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Our marriage's thirty-year history of adultery, part three: The sentiments of a "broken shoe" (a woman who has been cheated on). 

After I published my first few posts on 69, one evening, as I sat in front of the computer browsing the web, my wife, dressed in tight black thermal underwear, sat on my lap. As she read my posts about the past, her large buttocks began to sway, and a youthful blush and shyness appeared on her face, which was covered in fine crow's feet.
"Old man, I was this innocent back then?" my wife said shyly. "Do you still reminisce about our recent tryst?"
"Yes, my wife was really a good girl back then," I replied, somewhat aroused.
My wife continued reading intently, her slender hands, already showing signs of age spots, moving the mouse. But I noticed a white mark on our wedding ring, which looked like semen. Over the years, how many men's penises had my wife masturbated with that hand, the one wearing our wedding ring?
I couldn't help but feel a surge of lust again. I pulled my wife down, making her kneel at my feet. This old slut, already tested by time, obediently took out my penis and put it in her mouth, beginning to give me oral sex.
My little penis may be small, but it's rock hard now. Watching my wife lick her swaying white hair, I felt a deep pang of tenderness. She's aged, entering the twilight of her life. Sometimes, my wife laments to me that she's hesitant to seduce her students, worried they'll find her an old woman. Before, she was incredibly confident in attracting boys; a mere wiggle of her butt would drive them wild. And when she went to a hotel with her online boyfriend, she felt even more embarrassed at the front desk, worried people would think they were a mother and son. Once, she even felt incredibly ashamed that the young man at the county hotel front desk was filming her and her online boyfriend with his phone.
Perhaps because of these reasons, my wife has become particularly nostalgic these past few years. My wife and I often lie in bed together, discussing and analyzing the penises of the men who have slept with my wife.
My wife concludes that men in their late teens or early twenties have the hardest, most energetic penises, but boys in that age are too inexperienced, only knowing how to thrust and ejaculate very quickly. Men in their twenties are already skilled at having fun, but not quite there yet. Men in their forties are experienced, but due to societal pressures, their skills are always a little lacking. As for men over fifty, their penises aren't as good, but their oral skills are exceptional.
Therefore, wives prefer the penises of men in their thirties, not the kind of honest, unassuming man's penis, but rather the penis of a man who has slept with many women. Wives call these "big black oil penises." These men's penises can drive beautiful, mature women crazy; they'll do anything for them.
There's another type of man, mostly the wife's students. Basically, after the wife has her eye on their looks and penises, she seduces them and trains them for about a year, ensuring they have the best-looking penises in their twenties, along with the bedroom skills and abilities of men in their thirties. These are the men the wife loves most. When you
see this, can you believe that this is the same person who, in other people's eyes, has been a respectable teacher for over thirty years, a virtuous wife and mother, a model of a respectable family? But she truly is. It is precisely because of these things that I love her so much, and my love has only grown stronger over the decades.
Others don't live for us, and we don't live for others. This is our shared principle in life. This statement came to me when the police found videos of my wife and a former student of mine, who had become a minor corrupt official, on his phone after he was arrested. I told the police what was on my mind. I said I understood the situation, and that we hadn't been involved in the case in the slightest. We were simply pursuing our own happiness in a legal way, perhaps even if it wasn't socially ethical. I want to thank this policeman, who was also my wife's student, for protecting our privacy.
Having said all that, let's return to that impoverished yet beautiful 1980s and continue our story.

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