She (let’s call her “Jane”) and I were both foreign students, and so was her husband (let’s call him “Sheng”), who was around the same time as I was, and she came a little later to meet him.
We have only one university in this small town, and there are only about 30 Chinese students from China, Hong Kong and Taiwan, so the arrival of new students or family members is a big deal, and it is not uncommon for the seniors who have come earlier to convene a dinner with everyone.
For some reason, after Jane Zhang arrived, I didn’t hear that the senior had convened a dinner party for more than two months, and no one seemed to have seen her. It was only later realized that her husband deliberately kept a low profile and did not want her to get in touch with the international student circle for reasons we all know: Mr. Zhang was afraid that his wife would hear about his affairs.
Before Zhang Jin came to be reunited with her husband, Zhang Sheng and another female foreign student (let’s call her “Fang Yuan” for the time being) were having an affair; this was known to everyone at that time. It was also known that Fang Yuan had an affair with me earlier.
For some reason, the ecology of the international student circle here is quite different from that of other places. We are not deliberately indifferent, but we are very indifferent, and there are usually not many people who come to see each other, and when we see each other on campus, we mostly exchange pleasantries. Therefore, it is not true that there is no right and wrong in the small circle, but it is just that they will not bring it to the surface because there is no such “surface”.
It was November, and one day at dusk, when it was already dark, I was about to go into the library, when I saw a woman with an oriental face sitting at the door. I thought to myself, ‘I don’t think I’ve seen that one before, or else, was it the one I saw from a distance on campus not long ago? So, who is that again?’ And then I thought, ‘Is it from Taiwan?’ At the moment, I hadn’t thought about Zhang Sheng, but she kept eye contact with me, and when she saw me walking towards her, she nodded to me.
She said who her husband was, and then I gave my name and how long ago I had been at the school, and she said she knew. After less than five sentences of this generalization, she said, “I have something to ask you.”
I was startled, because that tone of voice appeared uncharacteristically abrupt in the initial conversation. I said, “Yes?”
She said, “Fang Yuan, do you recognize it?”
I vaguely felt bad in my heart and replied, “I …… recognize it.”
She asked, “Did you know she was with my husband?” She was referring, I think, of course, to the time before she came here to join her husband.
I stammered, “Uh …… well …… I’m not really sure.”
Her expression was calm, but betrayed a little impatience, as if at my attempts at tai chi, “You really haven’t heard?”
I was a little surprised that she was so blunt, almost rude, but it made sense. I thought to myself, ‘Jealous wife or not, eager to piece together the truth and gather testimony, it all makes sense.’
I’m still uh-uh, ah ah, my mouth just “seems”, “maybe”, “but” a few words around and around. She added: “Didn’t Fang Yuan have dealings with you before?”
This caught me off guard and I said, “Let’s sit down and talk!” Trying to trade space for time. She followed me into the library and the two of them found a table in the lobby reading room and sat down.
There weren’t many students in the lobby at this time, but as soon as I was seated, and still pondering how to answer, it occurred to me that this was really an inappropriate place; the basement was the periodicals room, which was usually less crowded. I said, “Go downstairs, there aren’t many people.” So she got up, too, and followed me silently downstairs.
The periodicals room is really no one, fluorescent lights are sufficient, in the silent air between the columns of angle steel bookshelves, but like a layer of white taste; floor, desktop are very clean, slightly musty smell of aged paper in the air, but there is a sense of cleanliness that is rarely seen. Reading table is three large heavy wooden tables side by side, I found a table in the center of the side seat by the aisle, she went to the opposite side of me, and I sat across the table.
She said, “Fang Yuan used to be with you?” I said, “Yes.”
She put her hands on the desktop, fingers intertwined, I do not dare to meet her eyes, had to look at her finger wearing a ring. She said she came soon found her husband strange, forced to ask, her husband confessed to have a girlfriend. She said, “I don’t understand …… I mean my husband. I would have thought how beautiful she is, and does not see better than me.”
I was still at a loss for words, saying things like, “There seems to be some rumors” and “I don’t know; I haven’t seen it myself.” Suddenly, she blurted out, “I want revenge.”
When I heard this, my head exploded and I became even more confused. On the one hand, I thought about the “face value” of her words, and on the other hand, I thought about how she was going to retaliate, and even vaguely thought that the retaliation would have something to do with me. Human brain activity can be really powerful, between the flashes of lightning, so strongly stimulated situation, but also can flash out a trace of “is it looking for me …… uh …… to help?” But reason told me: hold on! Do not make a joke!
She added, “I’m going to find someone to take revenge on.”
I listened to the old deer in the head, said, “Don’t be so impatient, will there be anything …… Hey, things have passed, there is no need to be so drastic means-” she interrupted me: “They still come and go!”
I froze, not knowing for a moment what to say in response. The air was still, and the conversation that had just taken place was so strange, exciting, sensitive, and yet thought-provoking. At the moment, the atmosphere was extremely awkward, and I didn’t know how to take it, so I could only mumble, “Really?”
She said her husband calmed her down and said he would work it out as soon as possible just because the other person wouldn’t let go. Then, she said, “[Husband] said I could get someone else to do it too, but only once.”
Help! I was already completely passive, too shaken by enemy fire to think. She seemed to say something about how her husband seemed to be perfunctory, didn’t understand why he was dragging his feet, or something like that, and then said, “It’s not like she’s much prettier, and I’m better looking than she is!” Then she looked straight at me and asked, “She’s good in bed if you’ve been around her?”
My head exploded again, and I felt the blood in my body pouring out of my head at high speed. I’m dead. This woman knew me less than 10 minutes ago. ……
I don’t remember what I said, but it was something like, “How can I put it?” or “It’s okay.” I mumbled something like that. In retrospect, I was like a dead fish on a chopping block, not even caring when someone cut me down.
She didn’t know whether she was getting angrier and angrier as she spoke, or whether she was eager to search for evidence, but she pressed on, “How long have you been going back and forth?”
Dead Fish I said breathlessly, “Three months.”
She said, “Three months?” And then added, “How many times did you fuck her?”
The warrior woman spares my life! At the moment I probably look like an idiot with my face, my speech is audible and wordless, my heart is beating like a drum, and my fingers are shaking. I couldn’t help but get up while crossing my hands across the tabletop and taking one of her hands in each. I stood up to the edge of the table between her and my seat (the left front of my seat), angled toward her, and lowered my head toward both of her hands on the table, my heart beating so fast that I couldn’t think, and breathless, I could only whisper, “I want to see this ring of yours.” (Idiotic enough?) The narration of this paragraph is continuous action, less than ten seconds back and forth.
She didn’t move, still sitting, and I lifted both of her hands gently, right up to my lips, and I placed a few random kisses on the backs of her hands. Looked up at her, she did not move, did not speak, just look at me kissing her hands. I had a sudden surge of courage at this point and parted my left hand to hold her shoulder, my lips coming up to her face.
She said, “No good, someone will come.” I said no. In fact, how was I to know when someone would suddenly come downstairs to the periodical room to look up information? My mind wandered and I said, “Come on, let’s walk a little further in.” She got up silently, still letting me hold one of her hands. After only three steps, I knew I didn’t have to walk, this kind of open space, any corner risk is the same.
I stopped walking when I saw a small table sitting by the bookshelf, turned and took her into my arms, lowered my head, kissed her on the lips and slid my tongue into her mouth, she didn’t resist and didn’t say a word. As I kissed, I probed down to touch her ass, and it was then that I noticed she was wearing long pants today.
I touched her ass, then I touched her front, and touched her lower body through her pants; then I went up and touched her breasts. I didn’t take off her pants for fear that the cooked duck would fly away.
The pants zipper was open in the front, and I felt the head of the zipper near her belly button, pulled it down, reached in, found the waistline of her panties, felt in, and felt the thick pubic hair. Then, I touched the groove of the flesh – it seemed to be okay, not much flooding. Not surprisingly, my dick was only about seven or eight percent hard, and she and I both knew this was a university library!
When I got my hands on her, I unbuttoned the waist of her pants with both hands, and up to this point, she had not made a sound, had not resisted, and had not retreated. After unbuttoning the waist of her pants, I pulled the waist of her pants (together with her panties) with both hands and tried to pull them down, and she realized that I seemed to be planning to solve the problem on the spot. She said, “We can’t do it here! There will be people …… have no place to hide ……” lust attack, I do not care about these, only mumbled: “I know, I know, inserted a few times on the good.”
She let me pull her pants down to her knees with her panties, and with her hands on my shoulders, I put her hips against the edge of the small table, and asked her to sit down toward the table, and she said, “At this table?” I gasped and swooshed (what about her, did she gasp? I have no recollection of that, oddly enough) and said, “Uh-huh.” Asking her to lean her back against the bookshelf, I lifted both of her calves, and looking down I could see a thick bush of hair between her firm, plump thighs, concealing a dark, mysterious, warm groove of flesh.
Her two knees are trapped by the pants, half open and half closed, still wearing shoes two feet outward zigzag open. Her back against the bookshelf, both hands propped up on the desktop, I murmured, “inserted a few times on the good ……” feel a little wet sticky labia, seems to have been slightly open. I turn my head frequently, always pay attention to the stairway there is no footsteps, one heart, holding eight or nine points of hard cock, stuffed in, nailing her. One, two, three, four, five, six …… She left the table with both hands and hugged me tight.
I was right when I said “just a couple of thrusts”, and I was out in less than five minutes. I remember the sweaty forehead, the gasping for breath, and the rapid pumping of my lower body like a male dog, but I don’t remember the pleasure of ejaculating while I was doing it in the university library. I had my eyes fixed more in the direction of the stairway and less looking down to admire her trance-induced expression (and the beauty of the blackened spot between her thighs that was being trashed by the dildo).
In the two or three days afterward, I couldn’t forget the pungent flavor, like eating wasabi, the detailed on-the-spot taste was not there, but afterward, I always remembered that kind of strength: so spicy that it gave me a headache and made my nose run, but also refreshing and refreshing. The thrill of it made the male dog in me restless, and I wanted her again.
After the incident, it was the same old campus and I didn’t see her again. I asked her where she lived after the library and she wouldn’t tell me. She said it was over and told me not to look for her. I didn’t dare to ask other students where she and her husband lived, but I happened to overhear a white classmate say that Zhang Sheng had told me how to get to his house: about which direction, where there should be a stream, where to turn left after crossing the bridge, maybe at a fork in the road and then turn right again, and then there were three houses, and it seemed to be the first one.
Probably, seemingly, maybe, as if …… it sounds very vague, but I was burning with desire, and found a time when her husband had a class, but still drove to break in and see. Turns out, the people had told me all the right general directions and had seen the three houses. I was so nervous when I knocked on the door, my mouth was dry, and I was so excited that I felt like a greedy kid knocking on the door of a candy store (which, moreover, had candy sprinkled all over the floor and a little naked girl sitting in the middle of it). Of course I was afraid of getting the wrong house, but that’s okay, if you get the wrong house, just say you’re here to ask for directions.
A female voice from behind the door asked, “Who is it?” OK, since it was in Chinese and a female voice, it should be right. I said, “It’s me, so-and-so.” A few seconds passed before the door said, “I told you not to come to me ah …… bad la! You quickly go, do not give the neighbors see.”
I said, “Hurry up and let me in so people can’t see.”
“My husband will be back any minute ……”
I said, “I went to the classroom before I came here and saw that the professor had arrived and was already in class. They have this class that goes on for two or three hours at a time.”
Before I could say “Open Sesame,” the door opened. Oh, the one I’ve missed! She was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt, half the length of her thighs in close-fitting shorts. I smiled, her expression …… can not say, can not see the joy and sorrow, just eyes alertly swept out a circle, said: “Come in!”
When I entered, she closed the door behind me and hit the lock button. We both sat down on the couch, she didn’t ask me if I wanted anything to drink, just sat quietly and watched me touch her thighs. Next I went over to her and kissed her on the mouth, she was nonchalant but their tongues teased and intertwined with each other. I went back to touching her breasts …… and she said, “This is the last time! Don’t come back next time.” I said yes, so she got up and took my hand and headed for the bedroom.
I knew she didn’t want me to stay long, so I didn’t take off her short top, just peeled down her shorts to her knees and told her to kneel like a bitch. I held her by the hips, looking at her round little fat ass, her amber asshole, the hairy cunt of a newlywed young woman, smelling the faint smell of tartness, and pressing my fully erect cock against the mouth of her honey pot.
The fuchsia colored cock was extremely ugly, but powerful and full, very narcissistic and flaunted there. Then, the glans was hooped by her vaginal opening, and hey, it tasted so good! Then, step by step, I looked down at the naked young woman like a sheep kneeling, waiting for me to ravage, and my entire rod by her vagina completely “master”, then support the hips deep, one in and one out, one in and one out, began to enjoy her flesh.
She doesn’t produce much, even on the low side (lots the first time at the library instead!) It wasn’t particularly sticky either; no liquid reflections or thick white goo could be seen on the cock between strokes. In retrospect, she had always been low on spring fluids; was it just her constitution or was it due to nervousness and fear? However, the taste of her nappy can be described as fresh and spicy, fresh and crispy, tight and “less oil and low-fat” cunt to my dick tugging very comfortable, very intimate.
The third time, I went to her house and knocked on the door (I didn’t say hello to her beforehand, and I told her it was the last time), and she was a little surprised, but she let me in. I sat on the couch with her and chatted for a few minutes before pulling out my dick and pulling her hand over to play with it. She jerked it off a couple times and asked her to eat it, she looked down and took a couple bites. I asked, “Let’s go inside?” She then silently followed me into the bedroom, pulled down her pants, arched her ass, and waited for me.
This time, after insertion, first played with her for a while, stopped and did not move, hehehe! Good “adulterous couple” seems to have a tacit understanding. She saw me not move, they gently move up, so that her little fat ass top to top to me, a mouthful of devouring the male root.
Usually, I take off the lower half of her body (she wore shorts four times before and after at her house) down to her knees; sometimes she takes off her pants herself and sits down face-to-face, or lies down, or assumes the bitch-kneeling position at my request. She always hung her head and waited for me to take off my pants and fuck her. She let me cum deep in her vagina every time; she never asked me to go faster or slower, never said anything about being comfortable or uncomfortable, liking it or not.
I didn’t realize today that I hadn’t cared about her emotions or feelings, and I was wracked with guilt and felt like an animal. But, do you understand? That feeling of taking advantage of a situation and plundering it at will? I was like a zombie Earl, invading her scented boudoir, nibbling at her neck over and over again; sucking the blood, but still hungry, hungry for her. Because she was beautiful? No. Sexy? Not. “Famous? “Good in bed? No.
It’s the taste of taking advantage of the situation and plundering it that causes me to park my car near her house and go into a state of oxygen deprivation before knocking on the door, or a state of cerebral congestion when I’m riding roughshod over her (and she’s taking it almost like a whore in silence) over and over again! I’m just writing what I’ve seen from this perspective and what I really feel.
However, even though you can’t talk about love for her, for such a woman – who once embraced you in a tight kiss, tongues intertwined; her body odor intermingled with your scent, closed her eyes and let you hold her in your arms and slowly pumped; she also once had half-open lips, squinted her eyes, lost in thought as she watched you step by step to speed up the rhythm, waiting for you to let out for her! –How can you be indifferent to her inner feelings or emotions?
The last time we saw each other was at night, and she said, “Don’t be at my house, just go to your car.”
I pulled up to the creek that runs near her house and both got in the front seat. It was pretty empty, a few small trees, and a couple of residential houses in the distance tech. My old Chevy, the front seat was pass-through, the cold outside the car fortunately wasn’t too heavy, the heat was on in the car, she had a sweater and jacket on top and jeans underneath. I pulled my monster out of my pants and she played with it for a long time.
Maybe it’s because we’ve gotten to know each other a little better, or because this space is different from her home, free of psychological pressure, the atmosphere is very relaxed, and I’m not in a hurry. She muttered some small talk (this is the first few times there is no sense of privacy), but also once carefully observed her hands playing with the meat stick, and her husband’s made some comments.
I was about to reach down to her crotch when she spoke up, “Let’s not stick it in today! I’ll take that one.” Of course I wanted to stick it in her, not to mention that I was growing to like her. The two of us have been playing guerrilla a handful of times in just a few weeks, the first time was like seduction, she seduced me; then a few times it was like forced rape, I forced her; only this time there was a bit of a couple’s atmosphere. So, hearing her say that, I don’t force it – such a good atmosphere!
She touched my glans, I touched her nipples, they did not speak. After a while, eventually both of them got stupid, and I reached over to the waist of her pants again, so she unbuttoned them herself, lifted her hips, and pulled her jeans down to her heels with her panties, and took the whole thing off by herself. She did come to that, “Let’s just be careful.” I forget if it was her, or me who said that. I crawled over to her, her legs wide open, her hands on my waist ……
After this time, she refused to meet with me again because her husband graduated and had no more classes, so I’m afraid it wasn’t easy to meet. In less than a month, the couple moved away and I haven’t heard from her since.
Of course I know whether or not a woman gets pleasure from me, or how much. Didn’t the seamstress I mentioned in my previous article in the Quartermaster’s Office hug me tightly and snarl “hao, hao, hao”? But I don’t see that kind of reaction from her.
But on second thought, she still got a lot of fun from me; not the fun of sex under a man’s love and compassion, but the pleasure of revenge on her husband. Even the intention of revenge has been sufficient, the other party is repeatedly forced to rape, she was forced to be helpless again and again nappy, and then from helpless to accept, perhaps let her all kinds of feelings can not be said, right?
When I think of her, I always think of her first, “Don’t stick it in today”. Women close to orgasm when speaking foul language, in the man sounds very exciting, but the woman put “after dinner and then let you plug well” this kind of words said so lightly, regardless of intentionally or unintentionally, the man sounds even more flavorful, itchy hard to stop.