My wife and I's story, part eight

Since my successful marriage proposal to my wife, we've become even closer. However, with the weather getting colder, our dates have lost the fiery passion of summer. It's not that our enthusiasm has waned, but rather that circumstances have changed. First, because of the cold weather, two more female teachers are now living in her dormitory, so we no longer have the opportunity to be alone together. Second, the cold weather and thick clothing also significantly affect the effectiveness of our embraces and caresses. So, we've been enduring it with great difficulty. Sometimes, during our dates, we sneak into the library for a passionate kiss, but even this isn't enough to satisfy my lovely wife. At the height of our passion, she always says, "Honey, when can I truly be your wife? Then I can let you have sex with me every day. I miss it so much!" Hearing this fills me with both sweetness and heartache, so I comfort her, saying, "My dear wife, hang in there. We'll get married right after the New Year, and I promise you endless happiness."
I remember finally, on a Tuesday after New Year's Day, my wife and I walked into the Civil Affairs Bureau to register our long-awaited marriage. However, when I saw my wife's household registration book and ID card, I noticed a small problem that bothered me quite a bit. I discovered that according to the age on the household registration book, she was six years older than me. I was a little confused; I really wasn't sure how old my wife was. I asked her, "Honey, why is your registered age so high? Six years older than me!" She looked at me nervously and said, "Honey, I told you, I'm three years older than you. Because I wasn't old enough when I started working, my dad asked someone to change it to three years older for me. So the age on the household registration book is a bit inaccurate. Don't misunderstand." At that moment, I had already fallen deeply in love with her. I knew that even if she were ten or twenty years older, I would still choose her. I hugged her, kissed her, and said, "I believe you. Even if she's really six years older, I don't care." I could tell my wife was very happy. I joked with her, saying, "Honey, it seems I not only married a wife, but also a silly, goofy girl." She chuckled, "You're my older sister now, so you have to be considerate of me." So, sometimes, whether there are other people around or not, I'd call her "older sister," and she'd happily accept it. By the time we finished all the formalities and got our marriage certificate, it was already past four in the afternoon. Since we needed to buy some wedding candy to distribute to our colleagues at work the next day, it was completely dark by the time we were ready, and there were no more buses for me to go home. I figured we could make do with the bed in our house. After we ate something outside and returned to our new home, I suddenly felt unusually cold. Perhaps it was because no one usually lived there, making it feel even more icy. Even though we were huddled together, I could still sense my wife's discomfort; maybe it was because her house had heating, and she was used to that warmth. I couldn't bear to let her be cold with me, so I said, "Honey, let me take you home; it's too cold here." She disagreed, saying, "Honey, I'm not leaving. I want to stay with you. I want to be with you today." Looking at how thin the blankets were, I insisted she go back. She became a little unhappy and said, "Unless you come with me, I'll follow you wherever you are, because I'm your wife." She proudly showed off their marriage certificate as she spoke. I was quite touched and said, "Okay, I'll come to your house and sleep on your sofa, alright?" My wife was overjoyed. She happily said, "You're part of our family now, it's only right that you stay here." When we arrived at her house, my in-laws were also very happy and said to me, "Silly child, from now on, stay at our house when you come to the county town. It's so cold there without heating. Besides, this is your home too." So I settled in, thinking I could sleep on the sofa for the night. But my lovely wife refused, insisting I sleep in her bedroom while she slept on the sofa. I didn't want to, so she said, "This is my territory, I'm in charge. You better listen to me," and gave me a meaningful look. I didn't understand what she meant at the time, but seeing how determined my wife was, I had no choice but to follow her arrangements. Since her house had heating and was very hot, I couldn't fall asleep when I lay on her bed. I felt incredibly hot, even after I was down to my underwear. I tossed and turned until almost 1 a.m., unable to sleep because I missed my wife.
Just as I was lost in thought, I suddenly heard the door open with a snap, and a figure darted in—it was my wife, whom I had been longing for. I asked, "Sister, can't you sleep either?" She immediately threw herself into my arms and said, "Honey, I missed you so much! I want to sleep with you." I was both happy and nervous. I said, "My dear wife, I missed you too, but I'm afraid your parents will be angry if they find out." My lovely wife, now completely controlled by desire, said coquettishly, "I don't care anymore, I want you." Then she kissed my lips, and her hands, not idle, even took my already hard penis. When my wife's soft little hand caressed my penis, my remaining rationality vanished, and I couldn't care less. I flipped her over and pinned her beneath me. My long-suppressed passion finally erupted, and so did my wife's. We frantically demanded from each other, our lips seemingly glued together, our hands roaming wildly over each other's bodies. When I kissed my wife's large breasts again, she finally became impatient. She grabbed my hand and guided it to her wet vulva, saying, "Good husband, stop teasing me, hurry up and fuck me, I can't hold back anymore, hurry up, I want your penis." This was exactly what I wanted, so I gripped my already rock-hard penis and aimed it at my wife's vulva, but to my dismay, I couldn't get it in. My wife smiled and said, "Honey, you're so clumsy, you can't find the entrance." I was already sweating profusely with nervousness, and said, "Good sister, don't laugh at me, I've really never done this before, please help me." At this point, my wife stopped talking. She simply held my penis in one hand and placed it on her vulva, while gently parting her labia with the other. With a soft "plop," my penis was fully inside her. This was the first time I had ever truly slept with a woman. I felt incredibly excited, thrilled, and satisfied. All my senses were numb, except for my penis. I could feel how incredibly wet and slippery my wife's vagina was, with many fleshy, bud-like things enveloping my penis and constantly wriggling, which aroused me greatly. My wife became even more uninhibited, encouraging me, "Good husband, fuck me hard! I feel so good!" She kept pressing me against her body with her hands. Completely inexperienced, I thrust into my wife violently, watching her alluring figure beneath me, listening to her soft, hot moans. I lost my rhythm, just thrusting wildly, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. My penis was already covered in my wife's fluids, and she seemed to have lost consciousness. Her two white legs were wrapped around my waist, constantly pulling me towards her. At the same time, she was emitting soft, melodious moans. I couldn't control myself any longer and started thrusting hard and fiercely. With the intense contractions and writhing of my wife's vagina, I finally ejaculated. We didn't move, just held each other quietly, feeling each other's heartbeats. I couldn't help but ask my wife: "Honey, did it feel good?" My wife nodded excitedly and said: "Honey, I love you, this feeling is so wonderful, can you leave your penis inside me? I don't want it to leave." I also felt a little unsatisfied and said, "I definitely won't leave you, I want you again later." Hehe, my wife was also very happy to hear that. And so, right under the noses of my parents-in-law, my dear wife and I began a new round of lovemaking.

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My wife and I's story, part eight

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