a woman in love

(1)

At 9:30 in the morning, they appeared arm in arm in the buffet restaurant of the five-star hotel, with white tablecloths and golden knives and forks. The restaurant was quiet and there were not many guests. Occasionally, they saw a few pairs of middle-aged tourists with four Five year old child.

It was like her past travel experiences, she thought. She was traveling with her parents many years ago. At that time, she was the child whose eyes lit up when she saw the buffet, just like these little ones now. But today she is a woman standing next to her boyfriend, and her new identity fascinates her.

It was an honor for her to be there with her boyfriend, and it was like some sort of sexual role-playing, exciting. Because from any perspective, she is no longer a child. She has wavy hair and is carrying the latest Chanel. These things make her draw a line from the innocent child, which is exactly what she wants. .

She now has wonderful heterosexual relationships, she is a person in love, and an attractive woman.

She imagined that she was her mother, and while imagining, she felt as if her hand picking up the stainless steel ice clip seemed to be more slender and softer. She imitated her mother's voice and spoke to her boyfriend next to her, trying to make her voice sound charming and intellectual, just like that. It seems like they have been married for many years.

In fact it was the first time they had breakfast together at a hotel.

Whenever she traveled with her parents in the past, she had never received so much attention. No one would compliment her makeup, even though she had prepared herself carefully all morning, and among her friends who were older parents, it seemed like she was childish no matter what she did. But now, you see, she is both a baby and a fairy in her boyfriend's heart.

In the middle of eating the soft-boiled eggs, she suddenly felt that this was a good time to tell a story. The music was just right, the environment was just right, and the atmosphere and state between them were just right. She told her boyfriend a lot about herself at once, including the people she dated in the past, the relationship between her and her parents, and the pet dog she had had for seven years.

He didn't seem to be listening carefully and was a little distracted. He finally interrupted her and asked her if she had slept well last night, and whether it would be cold now that she was wearing so few clothes. He looked gentle and innocent, and was very kind to her.

As he spoke, he thoughtfully covered her legs with his denim jacket. The blue jacket had English letters printed on it and was in an old color. It matched his skin and necklace, proving that he was A young, fashionable and handsome man who is extremely separated from the traditional world where her parents live.

Just like when she was little, she liked to take out more food than she could eat at the breakfast buffet, but this time no parent blamed her for embarrassment. Eventually unable to finish the meal, she pretended to be annoyed at her judgment in front of her new boyfriend, even though she knew she was a repeat offender.

Her boyfriend touched her head, his eyes full of adoration, and he told her you are so cute. Then help her eat the remaining food, which is very natural.

He was really gentle, she thought, much better than that rough father. As a man, it doesn’t matter even if he doesn’t understand those women’s affairs. Perhaps it’s because her nagging is too sensitive, too trivial, and too girlish, while his eyes are all about reason and strategy, so these women’s Thoughts are naturally too small in his eyes.

Men are like this. His neglect of her seemed to make him more masculine, for he was in some sense in agreement with her father, so that it was as if her relationship with him was like the love between her parents." Mature” and legitimate.

She forgot that she had abundant but retreated desire for expression during the meal. Then she thought about it. It seemed that it didn't matter whether he knew about her past experiences. Anyway, he was in front of her now. Anyway, now they were in love. This was all. Very good, the result of falling in love is the most important thing. And now she felt that it was good to talk about trivial matters in her current life as he wished. Although it had no practical meaning, it made the interaction between them more ambiguous and sweeter.

After all, he also cares about her, which is much better than his father does to his mother.

(two)

At 11:30 p.m., a few minutes later, he bit her lipstick clean off. He saw nothing. If he had glimpsed it in those flashing seconds before, would he have looked carefully and marveled at the soft color of this Saint Laurent, like her sister, with the added bonus of lust.

She had many fantasies about sex between them, which often happened when she was masturbating alone.

But every time they really meet, they have to complete the repetitive process to release his and her passion. After the real "release", it seems that neither of them has the ability to continue exploring new projects. desire.

He rubbed her breasts, back and forth nine or ten times, and then put his hand to her vagina. Even though he didn't actually do anything at this time, he would always say that she was so wet now and that she was seducing him. wildcat.

She thought it must be because she wanted him so much that her body flowed in response.

She assumed a posture as dissatisfied with desire as pictured on an AV cover, imagining that she was playing the role of a young woman. She pinned one thigh on top of the other and he forced her apart. She whispered, but what he did was actually what she expected.

He started rubbing her pussy and she moaned, she hoped her voice sounded classy. But within a few minutes she couldn't stand it anymore, and she couldn't help but stop him in a playful voice because it hurt her too much. While she was stopping him, she was worried that her complaints would spoil his mood.

But the sessions were usually not very long, and she thought that was because she didn't like showing too much of her vagina. In order to divert his attention, she started stroking his penis through his pants. She felt his erection and asked him how he felt. He didn't speak but looked excited and pushed her head over.

This was exciting for both of them, for her, because she loved seeing men getting pleasure from her work, and she loved hearing their sexy moans.

No one would question the rationality of his penetrating her, because this was the purpose of their meeting today, the climax of the sex, and all the previous preparations were in service of it. In fact, she was already too familiar with the feeling of being penetrated. It hurt at first, but then she began to adapt. She imagined that maybe this feeling was a kind of pleasure. She imagined that she was an AV actress.

But now with the lights off, he couldn't see her expression, so she didn't have to look intoxicated, but she controlled the rhythm and ups and downs of her moans.

He seemed to be enjoying it, and she counted the seconds. Before long, she would pretend that her vagina could no longer withstand his attacks, that he was too big, that he was too strong, and that she would call him daddy. This is his favorite title. She took advantage of the situation and begged him in a tone of apology if she could climax earlier. At this time, he always felt particularly accomplished, and he proudly said that it was still early.

She watched him moving in and out of her body and felt her throat was a little itchy. She should stop talking and at least drink some water. She said, can we stop for a while, can I stop screaming? When she said this, she tried to look shy to hide her exhaustion. And as expected, he understood that out of shyness, he seemed to be even more excited.

He said, no, you have to keep screaming, it sounds so nice, I like to hear it, you can't help it.

That's your instinct. He said.

Oh, maybe, that was her instinct, she thought. She judged the depth and force of his thrusts, making the loudest noises when she went hardest and fastest, and then he slowly came to a stop.

His end was her end, and the sex was finally over. So tired, she thought, and she didn't want to do anything else. She also didn't want to mention her original plan for sex to him. Maybe she knew that he might not want to continue to participate.

They went to take a shower separately, and she always asked him to take a shower first, so that she could hide under the quilt and secretly masturbate for a while, taking advantage of the aftertaste of his orgasm and her own sleepiness. But it was not that easy for her to have an orgasm, especially since she had to All the while thinking that in a few minutes he would come out of the bathroom.

She didn't want him to catch her masturbating, because maybe he would feel hurt, or maybe he would find out that she wasn't satisfied just now. Under this kind of tension, her climax is harder to reach than masturbating alone.

When she heard him turn off the faucet, she deftly took her right hand out of her underwear, turned sideways and pretended to sleep. Go to sleep, she said, so tired, she yawned. He wiped his hair and turned off the light, then hugged her, rubbed her breasts with his palms, and stopped talking to her.

After a few minutes she heard him snoring, and his hand on her chest gradually loosened. She seemed to have never met a man who had insomnia once. Men always fell asleep so quickly, just like her father, she thought to herself. My mother also suffered from insomnia all year round and got used to it, and then fell asleep. Men like to say to her, you have to get used to falling asleep with my snoring. If one day I don't exist, you won't get used to it. This is the best. .

This made her feel that there was a certain similarity in the relationship between them and her parents, which brought her a wonderful sense of happiness.

While carefully paying attention to the man's reaction, she continued to stretch her hand towards her underwear. She began to recall the scene they had just made love in an attempt to arouse arousal. Her masturbation paused between each man's roll and continued after that. She climaxed an hour later.

Now is the time to sleep.

She returned to their bed from the bathroom and gently pulled up the quilt on the other side of the man. She lay meekly next to him, imagining that she was his wife. Whatever happens next, I had a great day, she thought.

(three)

yesterday? Oh, I was delayed by something yesterday. How about we change it to next Monday.

Well, I was in the hotel at that time, who was I with? I'm actually, well, I'm dating a girl recently.

Oh, no, I met my ex-girlfriend online. This girl was at a school club activity last month.

She looks quite cute, and she looks very innocent, which is quite different from her appearance on the bed. But you know, women like to talk about things that they have and don’t have. As soon as it sounds like she is a sentimental, bourgeois girl, I wonder if this woman will be like my ex-girlfriend who fell in love with her after sleeping with her. Damn it, I'm too busy this year and don't have that much time to deal with women, but it seems to be okay for now.

How did you hook up? Maybe she thinks I'm handsome. You know, I value that aspect more, it's quite harmonious, she's very good at screaming, and she's also very tight. In short, let's take a look at it first. If you can't block me, you have to work hard. Well, I'm a little sleepy today. I'll talk to you next time. I'll hang up.

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Official account meets on a cloudy day