And fortunately, a young woman...

I added her as a friend on QQ five years ago. She's from our hometown, but was working in a neighboring county at the time. After adding each other, we chatted about work and everyday things, and gradually got to know each other. One day, about six months later, she called to say she was back in her hometown on vacation. We met and had lunch together. Afterwards, I hinted that she wanted to go to a hotel to rest, but she said her home wasn't far and asked me to drive her home. To get her to agree to my desired outcome, I used every trick in the book, but she still thanked me for the meal and insisted on going home. I reluctantly drove her home; it was 30 kilometers from the county seat. On the way, I instinctively squeezed her hand; it was icy cold and sweaty. I was certain my words and actions had frightened her. At that time, she was 27 years old, newly married, and had a baby less than a year old. The 30 kilometers passed quickly. After getting out of the car, she politely pointed out the location of her old house and invited me to visit sometime. On the way back, driving and replaying the memory, I felt incredibly embarrassed. I realized my lust had almost reached an irrational level. She was over 20 years younger than me, and her parents were probably younger than me… So I decided never to bother her again.
Time flies; five years have passed in the blink of an eye. Coincidentally, one day last October, my wife and I were having breakfast at a breakfast shop. I was sitting facing the door when a figure suddenly caught my attention. The sound of her buying steamed buns confirmed it—it was her from five years ago. Perhaps because of her profile, her buttocks were more shapely and rounder than five years ago, and her breasts were bigger. Those curves instantly stirred my restless heart. Five years had passed, and she had become even more alluring and captivating. Luckily, my wife didn't notice my expression. Arriving at the office, her image filled my mind. My heart, which I tried to suppress, remained restless. Two hours passed, and I still couldn't calm down. Finally, I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts, finding a number I had saved. Tensely, I tried calling, and surprisingly, it went through. That familiar voice in the earpiece asked, "Who is this?" After I told her who I was, she said she had been working back in her hometown for over a year and couldn't remember me. My heart calmed down instantly.
Two weeks later, one afternoon, I went to the hair salon. While lying in the recliner getting my hair washed, that familiar voice reached my ears again. She was there too, negotiating a perm with the owner. I didn't have any particular intention at the time, and quietly paid her bill without saying goodbye. Two hours later, she called, thanking me for paying and saying she'd treat me to lunch sometime. I thought it was just polite formality.
Three days later, at noon, she called again, indeed inviting me to lunch. Just like that, my once calm heart began to flutter again. The process is too long, so I'll just tell you what everyone wants to hear. After two weeks of back-and-forth, I suggested visiting her new home in the county town. She didn't refuse (it was during working hours; her son was at kindergarten, and he also spent lunch there; her husband was still working in a neighboring county and hadn't been transferred back). The living room was large, and the sofa was also large. After some polite exchanges of tea and water, I sat down. I already had ulterior motives, so I tried to get closer to her, slowly sitting down next to her on the sofa. Her face was flushed, and her hands were constantly rubbing together. I boldly touched them; this time they weren't cold, but warm, and she was sweating. My restless heart drove my hands to slowly caress her shoulders, then slowly slide down, my eyes fixed on her protruding breasts, which were heaving faster and faster. Before I knew it, her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back. My lips moved involuntarily from her earlobe to her neck, my hands groping her from top to bottom... Suddenly, I picked her up and carried her straight to the bedroom. I didn't even bother to draw the curtains. We undressed, kissed, and touched each other. Her vulva was already overflowing with white fluid. My penis was even more unruly. Before I could even lick her clitoris, it plunged into her vagina with a "plop." Deep and shallow, heavy and light, this thing made a lot of noise in the lubricated hole. She also started to moan wildly and groan. Suddenly, there was a spasm inside, and a hot flow overflowed from the opening. It wasn't me who ejaculated, but her. A large area of the blanket was wet. There was no time for foreplay, no time for fancy moves, I was on top, thrusting in and out, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, and she orgasmed again and again. Time flew by; after my second ejaculation, I saw it was almost 5 pm, and I had to rush to pick up my son from kindergarten. We hurriedly got up and left. It's true, no matter how good you are to a woman, if you don't let her be completely aroused, she will definitely be dissatisfied with you. This is my conclusion and experience. She said, "I showed her what a woman and an orgasm are." This one lucky break was enough, because she's only in her early thirties, and incredibly sexy.

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And fortunately, a young woman...

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