Our couple's thirty-year history of cuckolding, part two: elegant and repressed slut.

My first meeting with Mei was at the entrance of the county cinema. After waiting for more than ten minutes, Mei gracefully arrived. That day, she wore a side braid, and had a slender figure; I estimated she was about 168 centimeters tall. She wore a white shirt with a violet pleated long skirt and cream-colored high-heeled sandals. As she approached, I carefully examined her. Mei had a beautiful face, especially her almond-shaped eyes, which seemed to inadvertently reveal a hint of spring-like passion, yet this was concealed by her youthful vitality and elegant temperament. Most importantly, she really looked like my music teacher, not only in appearance and charm, but also in her full breasts, pert buttocks, slender hands, and long legs.
I looked at her, and Mei also saw me. Inadvertently, I thought she glanced quickly at my crotch a few times before quickly looking away. Or perhaps it was just my imagination (after we got married, Mei told me that it wasn't my imagination; the first thing she did when looking at a man was to see how big his crotch was).
We smiled at each other a little awkwardly, and she spoke up, "Hello, what movie is playing today?" I replied, also a little embarrassed, "Hello, it's 'The Italian's Adventures in Russia.'" She laughed again, "It's like we're exchanging secret codes." I laughed too; her joke made us feel more comfortable with each other. Besides, her voice was so beautiful, truly as melodious as a nightingale's.
We chatted for a while longer, and then the movie was about to start, so we went into the theater. During the movie, I basically watched her. In the darkness, Mei's eyes were so bright, and the comedic scenes made her laugh constantly; her laughter was so captivating, clear, charming, and gentle. Her fragrance wafted around me, and my penis became erect again, a little fluid leaking from the tip.
After the movie, Mei and I left the theater. In the 1980s, there weren't many coffee shops in the county town, not even proper parks. Mei and I went for a walk and chatted in the grove by the river. During our conversation, we discovered we had so much in common. We both loved Russian literature and Chopin, and we chatted for an entire afternoon. We then ate cold noodles together at a Korean restaurant, and afterwards went to the county government square to watch an open-air film, *Waterloo Bridge*. As night fell, I walked Mei back to her school's single dormitory. I knew then that my first love story had begun.
That evening, as soon as I got home, I briefly told my parents about the date, then hid in my room. I lay on the bed, masturbating, imagining Mei. I imagined Mei's long skirt lifted up, her buttocks raised, letting my penis enter her. No, not my penis, my little penis wasn't worthy of her. It had to be a big penis, a thick, black, long penis going in. Ah, the word "fuck her" drove me crazy. I loved Mei, but I wanted more of a male genital ... The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I started imagining the class's sports committee member's huge penis fucking Mei, then Mei, then the music teacher—the two of them becoming one woman, being conquered by that big rod. My shame and excitement reached their peak, and a large gush of semen shot out. I also let out a soft, wild cry. In this feeling of shame, I felt even more lewd, yet also more satisfied than ever before.
Mei, be my wife. I muttered softly.

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Our couple's thirty-year history of cuckolding, part two: elegant and repressed slut.

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