Our fifth date was a 4P.

It's late at night, and I've been tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. I remembered asking my husband for his account password a few days ago. It was simply because I had some free time recently, a chance to let my mind wander and write occasionally, recording our different lives over the years.
A lot has happened in the past few years, to the point that we haven't had the time or inclination to share and exchange ideas with everyone here. Time has flown by so quickly, and I feel I've grown a lot, seeing everything and everyone more clearly now. Getting back to the point, thinking back to that day a few years ago—it's actually quite blurry now, and I might not remember some of the specific details clearly—I'll just give a general overview.
I remember that summer, I was having a classmate reunion at a shopping mall. The night before, my husband had already arranged our plans for the next day with his mistress (the third DN). Since the mall I was going to was close to her place, he asked him to give me a ride to her hotel. The next day, I went shopping with my classmates for a while, and then we all had dinner together. It had been a long time since we'd seen each other, so we were bound to catch up. However, because my friend arrived half an hour early, I was so busy eating that I was completely disoriented. I needed to finish my meal quickly, come up with an excuse to leave, and also figure out where he was waiting for me, since it was my first time in that mall and I had no idea where it was. Finally, I thought of telling my classmate that he was my husband's friend and could give me a ride home, since he'd arrived earlier and I had to leave first. Thankfully, my classmate understood. It was a shame the gathering ended so abruptly.
My classmate personally saw me into my friend's car (a Mercedes R-Class). The moment I got in, he gave me a very unfriendly look, a slight smirk, and asked, "Are those two your classmates?" I joked, "Of course! Interested?" He put on a very serious face and said, "Only interested in you!" I didn't take it seriously and told him to focus on driving! On the way, he said that seeing me made him hard. I reached over and touched him through my pants, simply to verify, and it was indeed as he said. Without thinking, I unzipped his pants and reached my cold hand inside. I gently grasped his penis, and he actually groaned. Actually, the moment I touched his body, I felt a tingling sensation myself. If he hadn't been driving, I might have been more direct and had sex with him in the car. So, during the drive, we basically just touched each other. Because I didn't know his driving skills, I was hesitant to use my mouth, afraid he'd get too excited and lose control.
When we arrived at the hotel, I called my husband. He told us to go to the room first, and he'd come up in the car after a while. My mistress and I went to the room, and she eagerly came over and hugged me. I kissed her back. My husband knocked and came in. I suddenly felt like I'd done something wrong, and my face involuntarily flushed. I hid to the side, scared. My husband grinned mischievously and asked, "What mischief have you been up to?" I quickly grabbed the sexy lingerie I'd hidden in my bag and went to take a shower. While showering, I overheard my mistress telling my husband that a friend would be coming over soon. My heart skipped a beat; I was both scared and excited. After showering, while my husband was showering, the mistress hugged me and kept kissing and caressing me (details omitted, but similar). Just as the three of us were about to get down to business, the doorbell rang. It must have been the mistress's friend, W. W is a coach, but I still haven't asked what kind of coach he is. He seemed very refined and polite, not like someone involved in this industry. He was very courteous throughout. He was the man with the biggest mushroom haircut I've ever seen. His presence added to the joy of our little group. Being pampered by three men at the same time made me feel incredibly lucky. Of the three men, the mistress was always the main force. He wasn't very big, but his skills made up for it. He always liked to drag me from the head of the bed to the foot, from the foot of the bed to the table, and from the table to his lap. Didn't he get tired? This time, the mistress ejaculated in my mouth. His friend W, whom he brought along, had to take his place after the mistress's advances failed. He preferred a slow pace, enjoying the feeling of my penis gently caressing me, embracing and kissing, and the sensation of him thrusting into my breasts from behind. Unexpectedly, he didn't last long before ejaculating, and in the end, Mr. [Name] had to finish the job. The whole process lasted over three hours, and strangely, I felt unsatisfied. Was it really that much of a need?

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Our fifth date was a 4P.

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