Passionate Years

Over a decade ago, I met my current wife: a slender yet sexy figure, an innocent and beautiful face. This led me to repeatedly try to seduce her during our courtship (please don't be offended, friends, it's youthful indiscretion, understandable), but she always firmly refused. Young people in their twenties today might not understand, but over a decade ago, sex was still a rather serious topic.
After our marriage, like all newlyweds, we didn't miss any opportunity for intimacy: we'd make love two or three times a night, and even during the day, a single flirtatious glance was enough to ignite our passionate bodies; while driving, a passionate word could lead to stopping, backseat, undressing, touching, penetration, moaning, and ecstasy, oblivious to the cars whizzing by outside…
During that time, I was physically exhausted, yet still full of energy. The most memorable time was after our lovemaking, I fell into a deep sleep inside her, and she didn't have the heart to push me away; after a short nap, she woke up, kissed me, and we penetrated again.
Tonight, my wife and I walked home under the stars, reminiscing all the way. The passion was unforgettable, and when we got home, spring was in full bloom—the passionate years are still burning.

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Passionate Years

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