Our Couple's Thirty-Year Cuckolding Journey, Part Four: Sweet Days

After our first meeting, I knew immediately that if Mei was willing, she would be my life partner, the one to weather life's storms with. Judging from my feelings for her, I could tell she was at least accepting of me.
The next day, I told the matchmaker my intentions. She chatted on with a sense of accomplishment, saying things like, "You two are definitely a good match. Take good care of yourselves. I'll sit at the head table at the wedding!" I readily agreed.
That afternoon, I called Mei. She answered, and I asked for Ms. Jiang. A woman on the other end laughed and loudly urged Mei to take the phone. From the teasing noises on the other end, I guessed it was Mei's colleagues teasing her.
Mei answered the phone, and I could almost see her blushing cheeks in her shy voice.
I arranged to pick her up from her school that evening. "Okay," Mei said hesitantly, but her cheerful tone showed her anticipation.
When I saw her emerge from the school gate at dusk, my heart skipped a beat, and my lower body trembled. Mei had let her hair down, her bangs cut into the kind of straight bangs common among young girls at the time, making her look like an adorable doll.
But Mei's figure possessed a different kind of charm. She wore a slightly tight white polyester shirt, fitted black trousers, and the same high heels she wore yesterday. This outfit seemed perfectly suited to her role as a teacher, but Mei's figure was simply too shapely. As she walked, her buttocks, tucked tightly into the shirt, jiggled rhythmically, and the edge of her panties was clearly visible.
When Mei saw me, the hint of joy in her eyes made me suddenly understand what love was—this kind of happiness and excitement.
"Hello! I told you not to come all the way to pick me up, I'm so sorry," her voice was even sweeter than yesterday, with a touch of coquettishness.
I just smiled and walked alongside her. We went to the cinema again and watched "The Italians in Russia," laughing as happily and sweetly as ever. Actually, even if I watched the same movie a thousand times, as long as I was with Mei, I would be just as happy and sweet.
Summer's vitality gradually arrived in our small town, and Mei and I fell deeply in love. We watched all sorts of movies together, discussed philosophy and art, appreciated Richard Clayderman's piano music which was just beginning to spread in China, and visited the few art exhibitions at the county cultural center. We lingered in bookstores, buying many books to take back to her dormitory, where we would quietly read together, sometimes glancing intimately at each other. We dreamed about the future of our country, strolled through every street and alley of our small town, ate at the few restaurants and eateries we could find, and danced ballroom dances in the small square. She was still so shy. Every time I rode my bicycle with her to work, she would jump off a little hastily when we reached the school gate, wave shyly at me, and then rush into the school.
These days were sweet and wonderful for me. Our relationship grew closer and closer without needing physical intimacy, and she hadn't yet discovered my awkwardness. During this period, I was filled with inner conflict. On one hand, I was always worried that my sexual organs were so inadequate; would Mei cheat on me after we got married? Would she divorce me? Although she was still a young woman today, she would eventually become a married woman, a mature woman; how would I satisfy her sexual desires? But whenever I worried like this, a kind of excitement would also grow within me. I would fantasize about Mei being beaten and humiliated by thugs, her clothes torn, her beautiful face swollen and covered in filth, her little buttocks sticking out, being raped by the thugs' big, thick penises, crying and begging for mercy in her sweet voice. I would feel excited to the point of tears.
"Fuck you, Teacher X, why did you make me so perverted???"
Every time I masturbated like this and ejaculated, I would deeply hate my music teacher. Not only did her contempt make me somewhat impotent, but she also instilled this twisted mentality in me. To be honest, at that time and at that age, I felt fear and disgust towards what we now know as cuckoldry, but I didn't know what to do.

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Our Couple's Thirty-Year Cuckolding Journey, Part Four: Sweet Days

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