This was posted before, but the website was recently banned, so I'm posting it here. Thank you to all the netizens who supported me.

Everyone has their own experiences, and every couple has their own secrets. Some experiences can't be shared with family and friends, but some secrets are hard to keep quiet about. Especially after reading other netizens' personal stories, I've had this urge for a long time, a feeling that's been stuck in my throat, needing to be expressed. My beloved wife has also repeatedly urged me to leave something behind while we're young, so that when we're old and frail, we can revisit those beautiful memories and emotions together—that we loved, that we weathered storms together, holding hands earnestly, loving each other heart to heart, that we were true to ourselves, and that we were true to everyone who loved us. So, I feel a bit like a well-prepared singer, anticipating the applause when I go on stage.
For someone past thirty, it seems like everything is just beginning.
After several on-again, off-again relationships, like many men, my heart seems to have settled down. I've finally met someone I like and started a serious relationship with a beautiful model. Amidst the envious glances of others, I was completely infatuated, single-mindedly devoted, terrified that the happiness I had finally grasped would slip away.
However, fate played a cruel trick, and things didn't go as planned. My girlfriend's frequent text messages and ambiguous language with her boss caught my attention. Until one day, I knocked on their hotel room door. At that moment, I truly felt what it meant to be struck by lightning. But reason told me that this had nothing to do with the man; as the saying goes, flies don't land on eggs without cracks. The blame lay with my girlfriend. After slapping her in front of that man and calling her a "bitch," I slammed the door and left. Actually, how I wished then she would cry and cling to my clothes, sobbing and saying, "I'm sorry, I was wrong, I can't live without you, don't leave me." If only that, my heart would feel a little better. Ha, alas, she just stood by the bed, crying, without saying a word, only sobbing.
I was frustrated, I was heartbroken, I couldn't accept it; my heart was bleeding.
I felt like an abandoned orphan, having lost my support and hope. Every day, I went to work, came home, and slept like a zombie. I drifted through more than ten days in a daze. She didn't call once, not even a text message. My heart sank completely. I pondered the future, the aftermath, unable to sleep at night. My parents were getting older; I couldn't let them worry about me anymore. I had to do something, I had to pull myself together.
Just then, I received a text message from her, just a few words, but enough to stir my gradually calming heartstrings: "I miss you."
My heart pounded. I told myself, don't panic, stay calm. Who knows what she'll do next? Just as I hesitated, her call came. But I stubbornly refused to answer. I called again and again, stubbornly persisting until dinnertime.
Just as I felt a slight disappointment at the lack of a ring, there was a knock at the door. The three of us were sitting in the living room having dinner. I opened the door casually, and she stood there, crying her eyes out.
My parents busied themselves, offering me a seat, pouring water, and serving rice. I didn't say a word to her, and she didn't say much either, only telling my parents that I was ignoring her and that she was very sad. My parents kept scolding me, telling me not to treat her like that.
After the meal, she came to my room, carefully closed the door, and suddenly knelt before me, begging for my forgiveness. I don't know if it was out of pity or love for her, but I finally couldn't resist her persistent pleas. After a while, we kissed, caressed, washed our genitals, undressed, went to bed, and made love passionately. As I thrust, I told her that I wouldn't let history repeat itself, that there would be no next time. She hummed and told me not to worry, that she would never do anything to betray me again.
But I wasn't at all at ease, and I was always wary of her afterward. My judgment was correct. Less than two months later, just as our relationship was at its peak, I discovered something wrong with her phone and text messages again, this time with the male model she was shooting an advertisement with. I followed her again without making a sound; I had to catch her red-handed again, I had to humiliate her.
But this time, I didn't even have the heart to slap her, let alone humiliate her. I calmly laughed a few times, gently closed the door, and turned to leave.
After that, I vowed never to date another beautiful woman.
Six months later, at a friend's gathering, I met my current wife. Her traditional charm and reserved demeanor deeply attracted me, who had been longing for her.
After we started dating, I grew to love her more and more. Kindness, filial piety, diligence, financial acumen, understanding, and a great sense of style became her defining characteristics. She also had another side that no outsider could ever imagine—her passion in bed. Every time we made love, we had a classic exchange: "Wife, your passion belongs only to me; no other man is allowed to see it." "Husband, I belong only to you; I won't let anyone else even get close!"
After dating for seven months, according to the customs of their hometown in Xinyang, our parents arranged our engagement. Because we hadn't found a place to live yet, both sets of parents pooled their money to buy a house, giving us a permanent place to live.
Just as we were renovating our new house, the devastating news arrived: his father, my future father-in-law, had passed away from pancreatic cancer. From diagnosis to death, only three short months had passed. Since there were no men in their family, I took on all the funeral arrangements without hesitation.
My wife was heartbroken at the loss of her father, crying every day. She would often sit in a daze, and I knew she had a deep affection for her father, so besides comforting her with words, I tried to distract her with sex at night. Perhaps due to her overwhelming grief, her libido was incredibly high during that period. Often, after a blissful moan in bed, before my penis had even withdrawn, my wife would collapse on top of me and sob uncontrollably. I would quietly comfort her while thrusting forcefully until she reached her second orgasm, letting out a sobbing moan. At this point, whether I ejaculated or not, I would lay her flat on the bed, tuck her in, and stay by her side, quietly watching her drift off to sleep, both satisfied and heartbroken.
During that time, I had to get up early every day to buy groceries and cook, but strangely enough, I didn't feel tired; in fact, I had inexhaustible energy. My work also improved significantly; I became a department manager, and my annual salary increased. In short, I felt that happiness was just around the corner, beckoning me.
However, life played another cruel joke on me, almost causing me to lose my beloved wife and my current happy life.
One weekend, my childhood friend called me, asking if my wife was home. I was puzzled by his question and told him curtly that my wife would be home late. What was wrong? He said he saw my wife and a man wearing glasses looking intimate as they went to a hotel. Instantly, his mind went blank, and he felt like he was suffocating with panic. Could he have seen wrong? My friend said with certainty that it was absolutely impossible. No wonder my wife had been acting mysteriously lately, sometimes radiant, sometimes depressed. Every night she would put her phone on silent, saying it was so as not to disturb us. I had some suspicions, but considering she had just lost her father, and that her emotions would need time to recover, I didn't think much of it and assumed I was overthinking it.
I rushed to the hotel my friend had mentioned, but I couldn't find out which room it was. The room registration wasn't in my wife's name. I thought of her QQ account, but I didn't have the password. I consulted a friend who said I could hire someone to crack her QQ password, but that would take a long time. I couldn't worry about that now; I had to find out who my wife was with immediately. I worked on it from 5 pm until almost 10 pm before finally cracking it.
What I saw shocked me. My beloved wife had fallen for a university lecturer. And judging from their tone, they'd probably already had sex multiple times. And this lecturer had a wife and children.
Below is a portion of their text message exchange, appended here for your perusal. "
I miss you so much… This brief separation has stretched my thoughts so long… The tender whispers in my ear rush through my veins! Embracing your body is the greatest happiness of my life! Do you know I'm thinking of you?
Hmm, you're so sweet-talking, sweetie, I know you're thinking of me, and I miss you too."
You are an integral part of my life... I can't let go, I can't forget you! Your smooth skin, your warm body, your graceful figure... all are etched into my heart.
Too many sweet words are just empty flattery, haha. But I love hearing
that your husband isn't back yet.
Hmm, where's your wife?
She took the kids back to her parents' house. Are you going to make love tonight?
I want to, I want to have a child soon
. Hmm, you're 27 already, you can consider having a child. How about we have one? Hey,
go to hell, you think I'm too old?
Dream on! I would never do anything to betray my husband
. Hey, who was that guy who was having such a good time in the car yesterday, like a vengeful ghost?
That's a different story.
If you keep saying that, I'll get angry. Sorry, baby, I was just kidding. Smile, don't be angry, sweetie .
My husband is the person I love most, I can't live without him. Don't talk about him so much anymore, okay? Honey, I
understand. I just want my dick again.
Go find your wife, isn't her breasts your favorite?
No, that's not it. I love eating yours more
. I won't give you
any more, or you'll go hungry, baby. I still want to eat your peaches, they're smooth and wet
, hehe, sweet and sour, so delicious,
baby. So where are we next week?
Hmm, we'll talk about next week,
but I don't want to be on the bus. If someone sees us, I'm doomed
, baby. My dick is hard, I want to fuck your pussy.
Hmm, I want to too, baby. You've made me wet.
What's the difference between me and your husband?
I won't tell you.
Just then, my wife called, saying she'd be back late. He hung up without saying anything.
I can't understand it. I love her so much, and we're about to get married, why would his wife do this?
At 11 pm, my wife came back. But I had already packed all her things. I just said softly, "Get out."
My wife was about to speak when she saw the computer was on, and it was her QQ interface. She immediately understood. She immediately knelt down and begged for his forgiveness.
A familiar scene, history repeating itself, regardless of my will. I've said before that I don't want it to happen again.
I moved her things outside, pushed her out, and slammed the door shut.
I couldn't sleep, constantly thinking, why? The model who used to say he loved me cheated on me, and now my fiancée is cheating too. I feel like all the bad luck in the world has befallen me.
She calls me every day as usual, and he hangs up on all of them.
Then she sends me a text message every hour, which I don't even want to reply to.
A month passed like this, and the house was finished being renovated.
As the wedding date approached, my mother, who was helping me oversee the construction site, suffered a stroke due to overwork. Fortunately, she was rescued in time.
My father didn't call me first, but called her. And she, brazenly, as the daughter-in-law, stayed by her future mother-in-law's side every day, taking meticulous care of her, even cleaning up after her.
This truly moved me.
My mother was eagerly awaiting my marriage, wanting a grandchild. For her sake, I reluctantly got the marriage certificate and held the wedding as planned. But the love I once felt was completely gone. It was all because of our parents; his father had passed away, leaving him and his mother as orphans, and my mother was partially paralyzed. Misfortune never comes singly.
From contacting the wedding planning company to decorating the new house, from writing invitations to arranging the hotel, she, her girlfriends, and a few of my buddies handled all the details. I did nothing, and didn't want to.
On our wedding night, after the guests left, my wife, exhausted, made me a cup of hot tea, presented it to me with both hands, and then suddenly knelt down and kowtowed three times—a truly resounding thud that echoed on the floor.
"Husband, thank you for forgiving me. I will love you well from now on, and we will live a good life together."
I didn't say anything, just looked at her. A beautiful cheongsam draped over her graceful figure, her elegant bridal makeup and the wafting fragrance of her body reminded me that tonight was my wedding night. I couldn't help but raise my flag, thinking, "Why not?" I lifted my wife's cheongsam, roughly tore open her blouse and underwear, flipped her over, and thrust straight in. Her wet, tight opening felt so familiar. I thrust in and out with all my might. I asked my wife, "Tell me, why did you cheat on me? Can't I satisfy you?"
My wife moaned softly, saying intermittently, "Husband, you have to believe me. I swear, I don't actually love that university lecturer. It's just a feeling. It's a feeling, not love."
"Can't I give you that feeling?"
"Yes, very much so. I'm so, so happy with you."
"Then why did you cheat on me?"
"Yes, it's my fault, husband, but please believe me, I love you."
"You haven't answered my question yet."
"Then you can't be angry when I tell you. You have to treat me like before. Otherwise, I'd rather not tell you."
So I said yes.
My wife told me that beneath the veneer of tradition and reserve, she always had an irrepressible, fluttering heart.
Before me, she had eight relationships, each bringing her different feelings. But some of them couldn't even be considered relationships, because she knew from the beginning that they wouldn't last; they were merely casual flings. Aside from these feelings, she had no experience of loving or being loved, even if she had some, it wasn't profound, until she met me.
She tried to forget these different feelings, to forget them completely. But she could never forget them, and these feelings only intensified as her love for me deepened.
Sometimes, when she saw a man who caught her eye in social situations, she couldn't help but imagine: this man's conversation was so elegant, what would it be like to date him? What would he be like in bed? What would his penis be like…? It always filled her with fantasies.
Just a few days after our engagement, her company invited a lecturer from a prestigious university in the province to give them professional ethics training. The lecturer made the otherwise dry content lively and engaging, and my wife was deeply attracted by his talent and charm. She wondered what he would be like in bed, and whether he was hard enough. Then, almost on a whim, she invited him to dinner. After that, their meetings became increasingly frequent. To avoid me finding out, she would put her phone on silent as soon as she got home, telling me she didn't want to be disturbed after work. Although I sensed something was off, I didn't think much of it.
Besides their phones, they sometimes video-chatted on QQ.
The day after her father's 49th day memorial service, thinking that her father would be completely gone from her life, my wife was very depressed. Coincidentally, our company had a gathering, so she arranged to meet the university lecturer. They had sex in the lecturer's Chevrolet.
I asked my wife how it felt, and told her not to hide anything.
She said it felt great, at least it temporarily helped her forget the pain of losing a loved one. And the lecturer had been very attentive during sex.
Suddenly, I felt a surge of desire; my penis was as hard as an iron rod. That day, they had sex while talking.
His wife told him not to be angry with her, no matter what. She would never destroy their family. She would rather never see this man again.
I had no choice but to forgive her and promise to let bygones be bygones.
Sure enough, from then on, my wife never saw this man again.
But not long after, I gradually noticed that my wife was always sullen and thoughtful, and she wasn't particularly satisfied or happy during sex.
However, if we occasionally mentioned this man in bed, my wife would become very interested, and she would be very wet.
Gradually, every time we made love, in order to keep my wife's vagina wet, we would naturally bring up the details of her sex with him.
One evening, my wife and I had been drinking with friends. We were in high spirits when we got home, and on a whim, my wife said, "Honey, I need a favor. Can I call his name during my climax? If you don't agree, I won't, just don't be angry."
Hearing this, I wasn't angry at all; instead, I got even harder and thrust more pleasurably.
Under this intense stimulation, our sex life was full of vitality again, as if happiness was beckoning us once more.
One afternoon, I was in a meeting at work when my wife called to tell me that the lecturer had invited her. She asked what to do. I sensed that my wife was becoming increasingly demanding.
I asked her if she would be unhappy if I didn't agree to let her go.
She said she wouldn't be unhappy, just a little guilty.
Thinking of her filial piety in caring for her mother, how she single-handedly organized the entire wedding, and the nutritious breakfasts and warm dinners she provided every day, I told her on the phone, with tears in my eyes, "Go ahead, but come back early."
That night, I lay alone in bed, unable to sleep. My heart ached, but I was also impulsive. I couldn't help but call her, but she didn't answer. But not long after, my wife called. Just as I was about to speak, I heard the man and his wife moaning passionately on the other end.
I immediately got an erection and ejaculated.
One day, my wife told me that this man had come to our house and asked if it was okay.
I sensed she was pushing her luck again, but at the same time, I thought it was part of her charm. So I agreed, but I made one request: they couldn't close the door while they were having sex; I wanted to watch.
Around 8 pm, my wife was combing her hair to greet her bespectacled lecturer when he called, saying he was already at the complex and asking for directions. My wife told him, and as soon as she hung up, she practically dragged me into the inner room. I told her to leave the bedroom door slightly ajar, and my wife laughed and said, "Okay, okay," and quickly closed the door.
A short while later, the doorbell rang. My heart pounded; I felt nervous, excited, and a little bittersweet—a mix of emotions I couldn't quite describe.
We entered, I took off my shoes, we kissed, and laughed… There was no sound.
I pressed my face against the door and could hear some voices, but they were clearly indistinct.
After about ten minutes, my wife gently knocked on my bedroom door. I opened it immediately and saw that my wife was wearing a thong I had never seen before, a purple one that made her nipples and beautiful, dark pubic hair faintly visible, very alluring.
I quickly closed the door and asked her why she was in my room. My wife looked at me resentfully, hugged me tightly, and tears wet my neck.
"Honey, I love you," my wife murmured softly.
"Honey, this is a gift from him. He told me to be sure to say he bought it himself, so you wouldn't suspect anything."
"It looks nice. What is he doing?"
"Taking a shower. I told him to take a good shower and get clean. He was worried about you, so he came to check on you. Honey, are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Go on over there and enjoy your wife."
"I don't know what to say, honey, thank you."
Not long after my wife left, we heard a man and a woman moaning coming from our bedroom. I quietly opened the door and went over. The door was ajar, just a narrow crack. The bespectacled man was kissing his wife's breasts, while his wife's hands were stroking his erection... (2800 words deleted below, worried about violating forum rules).
In short, my wife and he were having a great time, their moans were loud. I knew he only moaned like that when his wife was extremely comfortable.
My penis was bulging like a small tent in my underwear, and at their peak, I couldn't hold back any longer and ejaculated. The pleasure was mixed with many indescribable emotions, so "comfortable" was far from enough to describe it.
The bespectacled lecturer, worried I might come back at any moment, talked to my wife in bed for a while, then got dressed and left after a moment of tenderness. My wife stayed in bed and didn't get up to see him off, but it was clear they were very affectionate; their parting kiss seemed incredibly passionate. This made me instantly jealous.
The door slammed shut beside me, and almost simultaneously, as I opened the bedroom door to go to the living room, my wife ran over naked and hugged me tightly.
"Honey, please forgive me?"
"Wife, were you comfortable?"
"Mmm, very comfortable."
"Me too."
"Honey, I love you. You're the only thing I think of when I'm most comfortable." My wife playfully pushed me into the bathroom.
"Hurry up and wash, your little sister missed her husband."
Another passionate night filled with love.
These past few days, I've read almost all the comments from netizens, and my wife and I are incredibly happy with everyone's affirmation and praise. Your love is our motivation.
However, I'd like to say a few more words. Some netizens see us as different, but don't forget, sex is a basic human instinct, a natural gift to all living things. My wife is not a whore, nor a harlot, and has nothing to do with vulgarity. Please, some netizens, watch your language. I also hope the administrators will delete these uncivilized posts, because this is a place for everyone to speak freely, not a slaughterhouse of insults and harm. This would hurt those of us who pour our hearts and souls into writing. Please.
The truth is, whether you choose to let your wife suppress her sexual impulses, or whether your wife is willing to suppress them, or whether your wife is willing to pretend to be unrestrained to please so-called traditional people, including you, I have no right to criticize. It's entirely a personal choice.
We haven't hurt anyone, we haven't had affairs behind our wives' backs, and she hasn't had a lover behind her husband's back. We haven't had irresponsible one-night stands, we haven't followed the unspoken rules of corruption, and we haven't coerced anyone. We're striving to defend our marriage and strengthen our marital bond.
Humans are like that; the desire for novelty is human nature. Does touching your hand and feeling like your left hand touching your right hand constitute morality? Does it mean you won't hurt anyone? Haven't you ever had even the slightest fantasy about the opposite sex?
Why is the divorce rate so high these days? Why are our marriages so unstable? Why do couples have to be so wary of each other like thieves? Why can we have affairs while demanding so-called loyalty or chastity from our partners? What right do we have to do this?
I admit, I asked my wife if she would agree to me having affairs with other women. At first, I thought her answer was unreasonable: "No, because I'm a woman, I'm a thinking animal, I can control myself, I know when to stop, and I would never give up my children, marriage, and family for another man; while men are driven by their lower bodies, they can't control themselves, and for a woman they like, they'd give up not only marriage and family, but even their empire. So, my dear husband, I don't agree."
But as a man, honestly, isn't that true? Aren't there countless examples of this in history and in reality?
To say something that might offend women, I now see any woman as if she were another woman, without the slightest impulse. My love for my wife runs deep. If my wife didn't provide me with this same supreme spiritual and physical enjoyment, I don't think I could do this. With my personal qualities, even if I didn't attract anyone, someone would attract me. I've rejected at least three women who threw themselves at me because I have a wife. I no longer need any other women. Isn't this what they call "of all the waters in the world, I only drink from one"?
We are all human beings, all members of this earth. We uphold marriage, uphold morality, and uphold all the beautiful things in this world, including sexual instinct. For a country to be harmonious, first and foremost, families must be harmonious. We are all working hard to build a harmonious society. Dear reader, why are you so eager to harm each other? What is the reason for this?
Later, his wife became pregnant, and he took care of her day and night. His wife felt that finding such a man was truly a blessing from heaven.
One day, her husband's boss called him, saying that her husband had been in a car accident. When they arrived at the hospital, they saw a man wearing the shoes she had bought for her husband. The doctor was trying to save him and asked him to leave.
After a while, the doctor came out and told them that the injuries were too severe and he had died.
His wife fainted on the spot, and after being revived, she cried loudly.
As she was crying, her husband came over and called to her.
It turned out to be a false alarm; he had been in a car accident, but only suffered minor injuries.
Seeing how much his wife loved him, he cried immediately.
He vowed to treat her well for the rest of his life and never let her down.
He constantly rejected the advances of women who offered themselves to him, devoting himself entirely to his wife.
When they got home, he asked his wife, "What would you do if I were gone?" His wife replied, "Then there would be no point in me living. I would go with you."
He was so moved that he hugged his wife tightly.
Then he asked her, "Would you still sleep with that man afterward?"
His wife said, "Yes."
He said, "Then I won't allow it."
His wife said, "That's against humanity, it's utterly immoral. You have to agree."
He said, "You wouldn't even blink an eye if you died with me, but I'm immoral if I don't allow you to sleep with other men?"
His wife texted her husband, saying that the lecturer had asked her out, and asked what to do.
Her husband replied, "You're not going to get pregnant and still sleep with him, are you?"
His wife said she wouldn't do it directly, but would take off her clothes and show him, and then the lecturer would masturbate and ejaculate.
Our daughter was born safely, a healthy and adorable child who became the center of the family. My wife works very hard taking care of the child. Her libido has never been very high, and sometimes she would only rush into sex to appease me, lacking the energy she used to have.
One night, I had just finished showering, and the child was playing next to us. On a whim, I quickly took off my wife's clothes, pressed myself against her, and thrust my hard penis into her vagina. However, it was so hard that even I felt pain. I got up and started complaining to my wife, but she didn't say a word of resistance. She opened the drawer, took out the lubricant she had prepared for the child, applied it to her genitals, and then took my already limp penis into her mouth, saying sorry as she did so. I couldn't hold back any longer, picked up my wife, stroked her hair, and told her to stop talking. I was being unreasonable and hadn't considered the hardships she faced in raising the child. We comforted each other like that, and that day, my lovely wife made me ejaculate with her mouth and hands.
Here I want to advise new fathers: be considerate of your wives. Raising a child is not an easy task. If you can manage it yourself, do so. If all else fails, asking your wife for help with her sweet lips and delicate hands is perfectly acceptable, but please, never try anything inappropriate.
Until last year, when our child was over two years old and started kindergarten, my wife's desires began to resurface.
A young man joined her workplace, only twenty-two years old, and my wife actually planned to seduce him, claiming it was to "educate him on sex." My wife told me that when she was alone with him, she felt like an innocent young girl. Even occasional physical contact made her feel wet, and her vagina would suddenly feel very tight.
Back home, my wife was very proactive. I knew she must be asking me for something again. Sure enough, my wife, lying in bed touching my penis, said, "Honey, what should I do?"
I asked, "What should I do?"
"It's about that guy she likes. What do you think? He's so young."
"Exactly, you shouldn't be harming a minor. Your lecturer is still contacting people about the next time you'll have sex. Can you handle it?"
"Honey, I can handle it. I just want to experience the taste of a young man, please, please, let's discuss how to do it."
Then came a long string of reasons and grand principles about how much she loves me, how much she loves the children, and how much she respects her elders.
Because this guy doesn't have a girlfriend, her husband told her she could invite him to dinner on July 7th
to get closer, and then often cook him nice things to bring him.

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This was posted before, but the website was recently banned, so I'm posting it here. Thank you to all the netizens who supported me.

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