Let's talk about the aftermath of the older man-younger woman relationship.

In the days that followed, I lived a very happy life. My wife was already very beautiful, and then there was this neighbor who was just as exquisitely beautiful. Although she had health problems, had never given birth, and had never done manual labor, her skin and figure were top-notch. About a week after we met again, I received a WeChat invitation from him. I replied that my wife was at home and hadn't left yet, and that I would come over as soon as she left. He replied that he would wait for me. So, after my wife left, I went over and knocked on the door. He was inside and said that the door wasn't locked, and that I could just open it and come in. When I entered the house, I saw him sitting in the living room. He had a delicate face, was wearing a pink cheongsam, and had loose, flowing hair. He exuded the charm of a mature woman, and his big eyes looked at me affectionately. He asked if the door was locked from the inside, and I said it was. He said he'd wanted to call me a few days ago but was too embarrassed. Today he just couldn't control himself, so he told his husband to call him so they could go for a walk at their daughter's house. His husband asked if he was thinking about 102, and he said yes. So, his husband left early in the morning and didn't come back until the afternoon. As I listened, I walked over and sat down next to him. He immediately rested his head on my shoulder, cupped my head in his hands, closed his eyes, and started to kiss me. I looked at his pink lips and kissed him back. Our tongues, which hadn't intertwined in a long time, began to entwine. He couldn't wait to take off my shirt, but because his hands weren't very good, he couldn't take it off properly. So, he got up and quickly took off his own clothes, telling him he was going to shower. He asked if I had showered, and I said my husband had showered him before he left. I finished showering in just a few minutes and came back. He had already gone to the bedroom and undressed. His clothes were in the blankets. I should mention he could walk on his own, just slowly. I walked to the bedside and quickly pulled the blanket off, standing there admiring his snow-white skin and his perfectly firm breasts, and his slightly dark pink vulva with sparse pubic hair. His vulva was a narrow opening, with a little vaginal fluid seeping from it. As I looked at him, he shyly said, "Come on, stop looking, it's embarrassing." I slowly lay down beside him, supporting myself with my hands, and climbed onto him, kissing his forehead and hair, which smelled of shampoo and flowers. I kissed down from his forehead, and when I reached his nipples, I heard him urgently say, "I can't take it anymore, fuck me quickly, brother, it's so itchy inside!" I didn't talk to him, just kissed his breasts with one hand, sometimes harder, sometimes lighter, grasping his other hand. He was wearing large breasts, and his mouth moved down to his vulva. I stopped and looked at his open vulva. I gently licked his clitoris with my tongue, and I felt him moan and tremble, saying, "Don't torture me anymore, fuck me quickly, it's so itchy inside, please, good brother." I didn't say anything, and continued licking and kissing, gently blowing on his clitoris with my mouth. I felt him grab my hair tightly with one hand, making muffled noises, saying, "Please fuck me quickly, I'm going to have a heart attack." I spread his legs and put them on my shoulders, dipped my glans in his vaginal fluid, and slowly entered his body. I heard him let out a long breath and say in a soft voice, "Go in a little more, it feels so good." I grabbed his breasts and squeezed them hard, looking at his deformed breasts, and slowly fucked his vagina. His moans went from soft to shouting, and I felt waves of pleasure coming from his vagina. A wave of heat washed over me, accompanied by rhythmic throbbing. I pulled out my penis, watching the gushing urine trickle from her vagina. It seemed I needed to change the diaper mattress again. I went to my spot and got the mattress. He rolled away from me. After changing the mattress, I pulled him back. He told me about his experience. I asked him why he orgasmed so quickly. He said I was the first person to penetrate him. He had been sick since he was twenty, before leaving school. In recent years, he had only been in contact with his father, brother, mother, and current husband. When he married her husband, he was 58, and he had never been able to get an erection. He would only insert the tip softly, and it would slip out with the slightest movement. I was the first person to penetrate him so hard. We chatted and kissed, and I inserted two fingers into his vagina. He touched my penis with his hand, and I teased his with my hand. His breathing became increasingly rapid. He guided my penis into his vagina with his hand. I sat up and rubbed it a few times before going all the way in. He moaned softly. We changed positions twice for more than ten minutes. He lay on the edge of the bed while I stretched his waist and thrust hard, pumping like a piston. He coaxed me, "Faster, faster, deeper!" I felt a sudden surge of heat and couldn't control myself; I ejaculated inside him. He didn't notice because he had squirted again. The fluid from his squirting flowed down our thighs and onto the floor, creating a large patch. Later, we did it again. In the middle, his husband called to say he'd be home in an hour. He told his husband to buy some emergency contraception, and we finished quickly. He had another orgasm, and there wasn't much fluid left from his squirting. I offered to help him get dressed, but he hugged me and I said no. His husband went back... I helped him tidy up, and he liked to kiss the vagina I had used on him. He would even take out the pad he had used to squirt and smell it. After hearing this, I felt it was almost time for me to go home. So I got dressed and went home. I took a shower, and when I came out of the bathroom, I heard the sound of his door opening. His husband had come home. I had lived there for more than three years. He would call me a few times every month. If it was convenient, I would go; if not, there was nothing I could do. After all, I had to pay my dues to my wife and the neighbor. I only had sex with the neighbor twice a month, and at most, I would have sex with him twice each time. Later, after a while, we only had sex once. Sometimes when my wife and I were at home, we could faintly hear what sounded like fighting and shouting from his house. A few times, I found several bruises on his body. When I asked him, he said he had fallen. Sometimes when I had sex with him, I felt that there was fresh blood when he squirted. When I asked him, he said it might be because his period hadn't finished. He would just keep smelling and talking like that. It's been almost four years. Just before the New Year, he asked me to come over, and since it was convenient, I went. The door wasn't locked, and when I went in, I saw him sitting in the living room, wearing a well-fitting silk nightgown. When he saw me, I suddenly noticed tears falling. I went over and asked him what was wrong. The more I asked, the harder he cried. He buried his face in my arms and recounted the three years of enslaved sex and the torment from his perverted husband. He was afraid to tell me, afraid I would leave him, afraid I would find him disgusting. Listening to his story, my heart ached. Here's what he said: For the past few years, several elderly men, about the same age as her husband, had come to his house and tormented him. Because these men couldn't do it, they would use eggplants, cucumbers, bitter melons—anything round or similar—to penetrate his genitals. The bruises on his body were from them hitting or pinching him. Hearing this... I was furious. That day, I didn't do anything except ask him to call his husband and come home. I argued with his husband for hours. Later, he said that was it, and if it didn't work, I could call the police. I couldn't call the police because I knew what would happen if they investigated my family. I felt helpless; there was nothing I could do, and I didn't want to see anything like this again. Later, I went to see him and explained the situation. He stayed with me for four hours, which meant I cried for four hours. He said a lot and was very understanding. He said he would definitely be my woman in the next life. We blocked and deleted each other. The following year, I moved out of the neighborhood where I had lived for over four years and never contacted him again. This is a true story; I am the person involved. Some of the details of our sex life are based on his feelings. It's absolutely true. It was a helpless and desperate encounter that led me to choose to escape.

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Let's talk about the aftermath of the older man-younger woman relationship.

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