This year, our team was awarded the Most Enterprising Business Award by the company. We had a group dinner together at a hotel, and everyone had a great time, drinking a lot of alcohol too. My godmother Xiuhui drank a lot of red wine. She and I live in the same area, so I took her home.
I saw she was quite tired and hadn't spoken much the whole way. I originally planned to just drop her off downstairs, but after she opened the car door, she couldn't stand up. As I helped her up the stairs, wicked thoughts began to sprout in my mind. I couldn't let such a great opportunity pass. I gently touched the side of her breast with my fingers. Her breasts were quite large and elastic, but I didn't dare go too far.
By the time we got to the door, she found the key in her bag, but no matter what she did she couldn't get it into the keyhole. I took the key, stood in a horse stance, let her sit on my thigh, used one hand to open the door, and with the other hand hooked her close, completely covering her big breasts.
After opening the door, I helped her to the sofa. No one was home. I wrung out a towel and wiped her face; she seemed unresponsive. She wore a long skirt, the hem tucked under her buttocks, exposing her entire thigh. Slowly, I reached my hand over, gently stroking her thigh, gradually moving toward her honey pot, lightly touching her pussy through her panties.
She suddenly moved and let out a 'hmph' sound from her mouth. I was startled and quickly stood up, asking her: 'Are you okay? If you're fine, I'll head home first.'
Unexpectedly, she grabbed my hand and said, 'Don't go back yet, stay with me for a while.'
I sat down beside her, and she immediately leaned against me. One hand intentionally or unintentionally pressed against my cock, I was getting a bit overwhelmed. I thought she was definitely giving me a hint, so I took the opportunity to stroke her back, harder and harder, I just wanted to see her reaction. Her hand also started caressing my thigh, at this point I was completely reassured, and one hand directly started kneading her breasts. She began to moan, I unbuttoned her clothes, she fell back, presenting her entire chest to me. I continued kneading her two full breasts, pushed her bra up, and pounced on them, sucking hard on her two dark, large nipples with my mouth. She started losing it, her 'mmphs' getting louder and louder.
I continued sucking with my mouth while using both hands to pull down her panties. She cooperated, gently lifting her hips. My fingers began rubbing back and forth along her groin, deliberately avoiding her honey pot. She was so frustrated, moaning "ah ah" with her mouth, one hand reaching over to grab mine and press it onto her honey pot. So much wetness. I inserted my fingers into her hole, occasionally stroking her little bean. Her reactions were so sensitive; when I inserted into her hole, she would "mm-hmm," and when I touched her bean, she would cry out "ah ah." I had already taken the opportunity to take off my pants, my cock standing tall and hard. She reached over and stroked my cock.
After a while, she started crying out, 'In, in, come in!' I didn't hold back, spreading her legs a bit more, and thrust my cock hard inside. So slippery—she was so wet, it went in effortlessly. I lifted my body a bit higher so each thrust rubbed against her clit. She moaned loudly, 'Ah! Your cock is so hard! Feels so good! So good!' After just a few thrusts, she suddenly screamed, 'Oh, fast, fast, fast, oh oh! More, thrust, thrust!' Her whole body arched, she let out a muffled 'yah,' and then went completely limp.
I didn't expect to make her climax so quickly; it really gave me a sense of accomplishment. I continued working hard. She lay there motionless, but I could still feel her clenching tightly around me, her honey pot contracting and releasing. When she tightened, I would thrust faster; the pleasure was too intense. After about another five minutes of thrusting, she started moaning 'mmm' again, probably starting to feel the climax building again. I brought her two thighs together and thrust my cock between them, rubbing rapidly against her honey pot. Her butt also pushed up forcefully, and her mouth started making 'ahh', 'ohh' sounds again. I knew she was about to come again, so I thrust even more vigorously. I felt I was about to burst too. I started moaning in her ear: 'Oh, I can't hold it, I'm going to cum, ahh.' As soon as she heard me say that, she immediately cried out: 'Ahh! Cum, cum together, ahh, don't stop, fast! Fast!' I could no longer control myself and shot inside her honey pot.
After a round of vigorous activity, the alcohol had mostly worn off. But we still didn't speak, each lost in our own thoughts. I was a bit worried, afraid that if she clung to me, it would be troublesome. A mature woman like her was something I had dreamed of. Today, I finally got my wish; having sex with a mature woman was really great.
Before she knew it, the little guy started reacting again. She suddenly lifted her head, slapped my dick, and said with a smile: you’re still a young man after all. I need to wash up; it’s still leaking down there. I thought she had fallen asleep, but it turns out she’d been watching my little brother all along. She stood up and went into the bathroom, and only the sound of running water could be heard.
It's about time to go home, I haven't informed the family today either. Will she ask me to stay? Should I stay? ? ? ?
She was almost done washing, 'Come wash up too.'
The underside was sticky, so I needed to wash up. I went into the bathroom; she was wrapped in a bath towel, blow-drying her hair. I held her from behind, looking at her lewdly in the mirror. 「What are you looking at, you little pervert? Don’t you think I’m old? One slip and you got tricked by me.」
"Tch, obviously you’re the one lying to me, you weren’t drunk at all, you think I don’t know?" She turned around and pinched me. "You brat, you got a free feel of me and still want to make me mad." I pulled her into a tight embrace, gave a slight tug, and the bath towel slipped down. Our eyes met. I said, "You’re really beautiful." "Nonsense, what’s beautiful about someone this old?"
"You have a very alluring scent, a strong feminine fragrance. I like it." As he said that, I kissed her forehead and slowly lifted her face. We kissed passionately. Her tongue was so soft, and it felt like her mouth was very hot. She was very excited, holding my neck, desperately sucking, our tongues forcefully licking each other, enjoying ourselves to the fullest.
They kissed for who knows how long until even our tongues felt sore. We finally let go. “It’s been so long since we kissed like this. I can’t even remember the last time I kissed my husband. It seems that after the kids became sensible, my husband never kissed me again; only when doing it would he kiss me a few times.”
“Hehe, I’m the same. My wife always wants me to kiss her, but I really have no interest.” “You men are all the same — living it up outside, but unwilling to treat your wife a little better. You’d better wash up first. Are you going home today?”
"Can you bear to let me go?"
"Nasty thing, using this trick again."
"Haha!! Let’s not talk about it, let’s not talk about it."
She laughed, 'How come I never noticed your sweet talk before? Do you sleep in pajamas?'
"No need, I sleep naked at home."
I crawled into his blanket, so warm. Like a child, I nestled in the crook of her arm, a feeling so magical, as if I had returned to childhood. She just looked at me, gently stroking my hair.
She was still naked, her body emitting a faint fragrance. I started wanting it again. I pinched her breasts and sucked her nipples with my mouth. She began to moan again.
Oh! Harder, suck harder. Yes, just like that, mmm!
I placed my hand down below her; she was completely wet again down there, with a lot of sticky fluid. I lubricated my fingers and slowly rubbed her little clit. Her moans grew louder and louder. I sucked harder with my mouth and suddenly increased the frequency of my finger's friction. She let out an 'ah ah' sound, immediately clamped her thighs together, lifted her hips up, and matched the thrusting of my fingers.
Suddenly, she pulled my hand away, 'No, I don't want this, let's take it slow.' She sat up, abruptly threw off the blanket, and reached one hand toward my cock. My little brother was already rock hard. She gently stroked it. I closed my eyes and quietly enjoyed it. Suddenly, warmth below; she took my cock into her mouth, rapidly bobbing up and down. I could feel her tongue constantly circling my glans. She was amazing, her head moving so fast up and down, yet still coordinating with her tongue. Seems like she practices often with her husband.
She took it deeper and deeper into her mouth with each suck, as if every thrust went down her throat. Wow, so good. My wife could never do this; if I go deep, she gags. Does she not feel it?
Oh! So good, oh, you're so amazing!
I couldn't help but moan. It felt really amazing, a sensation I'd never experienced before. But I'd never cum from oral before; no matter what my wife did, I wouldn't ejaculate. But what's happening today? It feels so good, I'm about to lose control.
Oh! I can't take it anymore, stop for a moment, I'm about to lose it, oh!
She didn't stop at all; instead, she sucked my cock faster. Oh! The head of my cock is so hot, I can't hold it. I thrust fully into her mouth, cumming in her throat. So good, this feeling is no less than cumming inside her pussy.
She continued sucking, and with great force. My cock had gone soft, but she stretched it long with her mouth, and she sucked every last drop of semen from the urethra. Oh, god, I feel so terrible, oh no, I couldn't help but laugh, it's too much.
She raised her head, wiped her mouth with a tissue, but didn't spit anything out—she swallowed it all.
She turned and leaned against my shoulder, smiling at me, 'Feeling good? Now you know my skills. Just a little help, and you couldn't hold back.'
"It feels really great. I've never felt this good before. I love you to death. Aren't you afraid I won't be able to get it up in a little while?"
“You’ve got a mouth too; if you can’t get it hard, use your mouth.”
"No problem, I'll make you feel good right now."
Actually, I quite like using my mouth to give women oral sex. As long as the vulva is clean, I like that close-range smell of sluttiness. And I can carefully observe what the vulva looks like; every vulva is different and has its own characteristics.
I crawled between her thighs and spread them apart. The room was well-lit, allowing me to clearly see the appearance of her honey pot. Her honey pot was much cleaner than I had imagined, the color not very dark, with little hair, just a thin layer. Her honey pot was already very wet, looking slick and shiny.
I licked her labia majora with my tongue, moving back and forth between her inner thighs and the labia. Circling her honey pot, I slowly licked around it. She clearly couldn't stand the stimulation, her hips swaying left and right, trying to bring her clit closer to my tongue, but I always avoided touching it. After teasing her like this for a while, I extended my tongue to the center of her honey pot, parting her labia. The flesh at her entrance was so tender, pink. I stretched my tongue to its fullest length and slowly pushed it into her hole.
She let out a loud 'Ah!' as if experiencing immense satisfaction.
Her fluids were plentiful, slightly salty, with a faint fishy smell. I started thrusting faster and faster. When my tongue curled, it occasionally touched her little bean. She enjoyed it immensely, her cries growing louder and louder. Probably unable to bear it any longer towards the end, she directly cried out, 'Lick my bean, it feels so bad, quickly lick my bean, my pussy is itching unbearably.'
I simply stopped thrusting in and used my mouth to suck on her labia minora, gently pulling them up, holding them in my mouth, and grinding with my tongue. Slowly, I started licking the inside of her thighs again, avoiding her honey pot. She simply reached her hand over and used her fingers to rub her own bean, constantly shaking it. So this is how women masturbate. Although I had guessed before, it was the first time I truly saw it—her three fingers covering her little bean, rapidly shaking her hand.
I grabbed her hand, not letting her do it herself. My mouth slowly went to her pubic hair, slowly kissing downward, inching closer to her little clit. As the distance got closer, her cries grew louder, and her hips slowly lifted.
But I deliberately skipped over the little bud, and just below it, my tongue trembled at top speed. Her butt kept desperately sinking downward, but the little bud still couldn’t touch my tongue.
"You nasty thing, don't do this. I want it, hurry, I want it ah." She knew I was teasing her.
I moved my mouth upward and suddenly took her bean into my mouth, sucking it hard into my mouth.
"Ah! So good, so comfortable. Stinky boy, you made me feel so good."
With the bean in my mouth, I quickly swept my tongue over it. "Pop," I suddenly released the bean and began licking forcefully with my tongue. Her fluids had already flowed to her anus, and I gently rubbed my finger around her anal opening, lightly inserting it. I didn't let up with my mouth either, continuing to rapidly rub her bean.
"Ah!" She suddenly grabbed my hand tightly, her hips forcefully pushing upward, thrusting up again and again. I knew she was about to cum, so I put my mouth on her clit again, sucking it up, and I also made exaggerated moans, grinding hard, while my fingers thrust quickly in and out of her asshole.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" The more she thrust out her butt, the slower it became, and little by little there were no more movements. I watched carefully her pussy, and a stream of sparkling slutty juice flowed down.
Her eyes were closed, her face flushed, still panting heavily, her large breasts rising and falling. She looked truly beautiful. I crawled beside her and gently took her nipple into my mouth. I was also very tired, so I just leaned against her shoulder, sucking her breast as I fell asleep. She gently kissed my forehead. Gradually, we drifted into dreamland.
After that day, the two of us basically found time to date every week, usually at her place. There, we didn't have to worry about being disturbed and could make love and be wanton to our heart's content.
Since that day, we found time to meet almost every week.
Mostly at her house. Her husband often traveled for work or worked overtime, the house was empty, and once the door closed, it was just the two of us. No one would suddenly push the door open, and no one would hear anything next door. That sense of complete belonging to each other made each time more uninhibited than the last.
The first official 'date' was three days after the dinner gathering.
She sent me a message with only two words: Come over.
I took time off and arrived half an hour early. She had already changed, wearing only a loose silk robe with nothing underneath. As soon as the door was locked, she actively pressed against me and kissed me. This kiss had a familiar taste, but was more sober and more forceful than that drunken night.
We didn't go to the bedroom first.
Right there on the hallway rug, I pinned her against the wall, one of her legs lifted and wrapped around my waist. I thrust into her from below—she was already wet. The sound of thrusting echoed clearly in the empty living room. She braced her hands against the wall, looking back at me, her eyes filled with desire. I sped up, hitting the deepest point with every thrust. Her moans gradually became uncontrollable, and finally, she went limp, climaxing in my arms.
After finishing once, we slowly moved to the sofa.
She straddled me, controlling the rhythm herself. Her robe had slipped to her waist, her breasts swaying gently with each movement. I tilted my head up and took one into my mouth, cupping the other with my palm. Her insides were hot and tight, each descent swallowing me whole. I could feel her deliberately clenching, as if intentionally torturing me. When her climax came, her whole body leaned forward, her long hair spilling down and brushing over my chest, her insides spasming in waves.
In the days that followed, the frequency became higher and higher.
Sometimes it was afternoon, sunlight leaking through the curtain gap, shining on her sweat-dampened back; sometimes it was night, after finishing, the two of them lying side by side, listening to the occasional sound of cars outside. She began to voluntarily make various requests—wanting to be entered from behind, wanting to be pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window, wanting me to use my fingers to bring her to orgasm first before truly entering.
I did everything as told.
Once she suddenly took out a black silk ribbon from the nightstand and asked me to tie her wrists to the headboard. I did as she asked. Lying there, legs apart, her eyes were unusually clear. I started kissing from her toes, moving upward, lingering for a long time on her inner thighs before finally taking that spot into my mouth. Tied up, she couldn't actively meet me, only passively receive. When I used both tongue and fingers, her back kept arching, her cries growing louder. Only after she came so hard her legs were shaking did I thrust inside.
Being tied up seemed to make her more sensitive. Every time I pulled out and thrust back in, she would let out short, muffled sobs. Finally, when I untied the silk ribbon, she immediately reached out to hug me, burying her face in the crook of my neck, her body still trembling slightly.
“Like this?” I asked.
She nodded, her voice still somewhat hoarse: "I like... being watched by you, being used by you."
This sentence was like a spark falling into dry grass.
Since then, we have tried more and more things.
She would send me photos while I was working—only showing below the collarbone, robe open, one hand placed between her legs. I would reply with 'tonight,' then finish work early and rush over. When I opened the door, she was often already prepared, sometimes wearing only stockings and high heels, sometimes wearing nothing at all, just leaning against the door waiting for me.
Once after we finished, she lay on my chest and suddenly said, 'Have you ever thought about what will happen if this continues?'
I didn't answer immediately. My fingers slowly traced circles on her back.
“What will happen?” I asked back.
She was silent for a moment, then said softly: 'We'll sink deeper and deeper. One day we'll be discovered. We'll... not be able to turn back.'
I turned her over and entered her from the front. This time the movements were slow but went deep. She looked into my eyes and didn't speak again. I thrust into her again and again until she climaxed once more, then whispered by her ear:
“Then fall into it.”
Her eyes reddened slightly, then she actively lifted her hips to meet me.
After that, we spent longer times together.
Sometimes I would spend the night at her place. The next morning, she would make breakfast, and I would hug her from behind, slipping my hands into her robe. She would laughingly call me a 'pervert,' but lean her body back against me. Sometimes, in the middle of it, her phone would ring—it was her husband calling. She would answer, responding calmly with her voice while I slowly thrust into her from behind. After hanging up, she would look back at me, her eyes filled with a nearly dangerous excitement.
"You're so bad." she said.
I didn't deny it, just picked her up, walked to the floor-length mirror, and made her watch herself being entered. In the mirror, her cheeks were flushed, her breasts swayed gently with each thrust, but her gaze met mine directly. That visual stimulation made us both reach the peak faster.
Week after week.
The outside world still functioned as usual—company, family, social obligations. But as soon as one stepped through her door, all identities were shut outside. What remained were only bodies, desire, and that tacit understanding of opening each other completely.
Once she cried after orgasm.
It wasn’t because of pain, but because she was too full. She buried her face in my chest, her shoulders trembling slightly. I didn’t ask why, just held her and waited for her to calm down on her own. Later she looked up, her eyes still red, but she smiled:
“I think… I’m really addicted.”
I kissed her glabella.
“Then keep going.”
The door is outside, the world is outside.
The door is inside; only the two of us are here. We can do it to our heart's content, scream to our heart's content, and release everything we didn't dare touch during the day.
And we all know—
As long as they can keep meeting like this every week, no one will be the first to say stop.
And so, time moved forward bit by bit.
Outside, the seasons turned from autumn to winter, then from winter to spring. But the frequency of our meetings never decreased. Sometimes twice a week, sometimes two days in a row. Her husband's business trips became more and more frequent, and the house was empty for longer and longer. Once the door closed, the world consisted only of us.
Once I arrived early.
Using the key she gave me, I opened the door; the room was quiet. She was still in the bathroom, the faint sound of water coming through. I walked to the bedroom, tossed my coat on a chair, then leaned against the doorframe watching her. She walked out wrapped in a towel, saw me, paused briefly, then curved her lips into a slight smile.
“So early?”
I didn't answer, just walked over and pinned her against the sink. The towel was pulled off, the steam from the hot water hadn't yet dissipated. I entered her from behind, one hand braced on the countertop, the other reaching around to knead her breasts. In the mirror, I could clearly see her expression—eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted, each time she was thrust deepest she would lightly frown.
"Gentler... my throat is still hoarse from this morning." she gasped.
I didn't slow down. Instead, I sped up, letting the sound of water and the impact of flesh mix together. She soon couldn't hold on, gripping the edge of the counter with both hands, leaning her whole body forward. When the climax came, she bit the back of her hand, her shoulders trembling violently. I didn't stop, continuing to thrust inside her still-contracting interior until I released myself.
Afterward she turned over, washed her face with water, looked up at me, and said: "You're becoming more and more excessive."
I wiped the water droplets from her eyelashes: "Don't you like it?"
She didn't speak, just reached out, grabbed my tie, and led me toward the bedroom.
That day, we hardly got out of bed.
From morning until afternoon, she only got up twice to drink water in between. I took turns entering her in different positions: sometimes face-to-face, sometimes from behind, sometimes she climbed on top herself. After every climax she would go limp for a short while, then get ignited again. By later on her voice had gone completely hoarse, able only to make tiny, broken whimpers. By the fourth time I ejaculated inside her, her whole body was trembling slightly, her eyes red, yet she still took the initiative to spread her legs wider.
In the evening she leaned against my chest, her fingers unconsciously drawing circles.
“If this goes on, something bad will really happen.” she said again.
I held her hand: "So you want to stop?"
She shook her head, burying her face even lower: 'I don't want to. But... sometimes I get scared.'
I didn't ask her again what she was afraid of. I just turned her over and entered her again. This time the movement was slow, but I went in deep. She looked into my eyes and didn't speak anymore. We both knew that once certain words were spoken, we would really have to face them.
So maybe it's better not to say anything for now.
In spring, she suggested wanting to move somewhere else.
"Being at home all the time, it always feels like something's missing," she said lazily as she lay on the bed. "I want to go to a hotel. A big bed, floor-to-ceiling windows, and I can make as much noise as I want."
I obeyed her.
Booked a hotel in the east of the city, on a high floor with a great view. That afternoon, we practically tangled together as soon as we entered the room. The curtains weren't drawn, and the city lights began to glow outside the window. I pressed her against the floor-to-ceiling window, her hands braced against the glass, entering from behind. Outside was the bustling traffic; inside were uncontrollable gasps. Her breasts pressed against the cold glass, deforming slightly with each thrust. When she climaxed, she cried out loudly, her voice echoing in the empty room.
After finishing once, we didn't rush to rest.
She pushed me down onto the bed and straddled me. This time, she deliberately slowed her pace, sinking all the way down each time before slowly rising. I could clearly see how I was being swallowed bit by bit. She looked down at where we joined, her eyes filled with an almost obsessive focus. After she came first, she leaned down to kiss me, then let me flip her over and continue on top.
That night we did it until very late.
They ordered room service once in the middle, ate a few bites, and then got entangled again. She had her wrists tied up by me (with a hotel tie), her legs spread and fixed, and could only passively endure it. After I brought her to climax twice with my tongue and fingers, I finally entered her for real. She cried and called my name, her insides clenching tightly. Finally I untied the tie, and she immediately reached out to hold me, burying her face in the crook of my neck, her body still trembling slightly.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
She nodded, her voice hoarse: "I like... being used by you like this."
This sentence became a keyword for a long time afterward.
We started trying more.
Sometimes she would voluntarily ask to be blindfolded; sometimes she would send short videos while I was working, only showing her own hand moving between her legs; sometimes she would listen to my commands over the phone, bringing herself to orgasm, then transmitting her panting sounds through the receiver. Every meeting felt like settling all the desires accumulated during the day in one go.
But the more it is like this, the clearer it becomes that something is changing.
Once after finishing, she suddenly asked me: 'Have you ever thought about the future?'
I was silent for a long time.
“I thought about it.” I said, “but I can’t figure it out.”
She turned to look at me, her eyes bright in the darkness: 'Then don't think about it for now. Just like this.'
I pulled her into my arms.
Outside the door was her life, my life, the daily routines each had to maintain. Inside the door, however, was another set of rules—where we could do as we pleased, scream as we pleased, and lay bare all the sides we dared not show outside.
And we all know that such days will not last forever.
But as long as it can continue, no one will be the first to say it’s over.
One rainy night, she sent a message: Come.
When I arrived, she had already showered and was wearing only a shirt, all the buttons undone. As soon as the door closed, she actively knelt down and took me into her mouth with her mouth. Her movements were urgent and deep, as if she had been holding back for a long time. I pressed the back of her head, making her swallow deeper. She didn't resist; instead, she let out a satisfied whimper. When I was about to come, she pulled back, looking up at me:
“Cum inside.”
I pulled her up and pressed her against the wall to enter her. This time was especially rough. Her legs were wrapped around my waist, and each time I thrust to the deepest point, she let out a short cry. When her climax came, her whole body tensed, her insides gripping me tightly. I bit her shoulder and came inside her completely.
Afterward she leaned against me, her breathing not yet steady.
“Next week……my husband is coming back to stay for half a month.” she suddenly said.
My movements paused for a moment.
“Then during this period……”
“Don’t meet yet.” she interrupted me, her voice very soft, “Wait until he goes on another business trip.”
I didn't speak, just held her tighter.
The rain was still falling. The sound of water outside the window isolated the entire city. We leaned against each other, neither of us mentioning the future again.
Because it's all clear—
As long as they still want to continue, they will continue.
And now, all that was needed was to make the most of this night before him.
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