My name is Cheng Yu, and I am a full-time housewife.
Before getting married, I was quite indifferent to sex. It would be great if my desires were satisfied, but it wasn't a big deal if they weren't.
However, after getting married, my husband was busy with his business and often had to travel all over the country. On the rare occasions he did come back, our encounters in bed were hasty and perfunctory.
This psychological gap made me reminisce about my limited sexual experiences whenever I was alone. Sometimes, I would even dream of some unabashed scenes.
I knew it was the craving for what one couldn't get; it was the genuine desire of my body.
That night, during my ovulation period, I waited for my husband to return home after taking a bath, but I received a call from him instead.
“Honey, there’s a problem with a project, and I need to make a sudden business trip. You go to sleep first, and remember to lock up the shop.”
“Oh, okay.”
After hanging up the phone, I sighed softly. I put a long skirt over the special lingerie I had prepared and walked down to the beauty salon below.
My husband set up this store for me so it would be convenient for my beauty treatments without having to go far, and of course, owning the place felt more secure.
Upon entering, I saw a tall and muscular man at the reception, applying for a membership.
I sat down on the sofa next to him, flipping through a magazine while chatting casually with the beauty therapist next to me. I overheard the man’s deep voice, “I’ll choose the lady in the white dress.”
“She's our boss…”
I looked up at the man and then at the receptionist, who looked embarrassed and was about to explain. Suddenly, I felt intrigued, “Okay, I'll take care of you.”
After the man entered the private room, I told the staff to go home, locked the door, and made my way to the treatment room.
By then, the man had stripped to his waist, wearing disposable underwear, lying on the bed quietly waiting for my arrival.
“Does the beautiful lady boss have better skills?”
Hearing my footsteps, the man suddenly spoke, his voice laced with a barely there smile.
I didn't reply, mainly because I genuinely lacked confidence in my skills. Although I had received some training when I opened the shop, I was not in practice anymore.
I pretended to be calm as I approached the head of the bed, poured essential oil on his back, and then gently spread it around. This was the first time I touched a man other than my husband since getting married.
Unexpectedly, the man's frighteningly hard muscles weren't as rough as I imagined. Instead, under the cool liquid and the warmth of my hands, they became slippery.
“He really is a muscular hunk!” I silently thought to myself.
But I never would have dreamed that the man, without lifting his head, suddenly stretched his hands resting by the sides of the bed to my thighs and groped.
I immediately froze, my mind going completely blank, rooted to the spot, not daring to move.
I had encountered perverts before, but none so boldly direct as this.
Should I scream? This was my first thought.
The man's hands gently slid on my thighs, teasing, bringing an itch that went deep into the marrow.
Push him away! This was my second thought.
But men driven by lust could do anything. If I resisted, would he rape me or even murder me afterward?
I hesitated.
Surprisingly, I found myself quite calm, able to think so much in an instant.
The man's hands then dropped again, generously complimenting, “You have a great figure, not a bit of fat on your legs, your husband is truly lucky.”
I remained silent, my body relaxing, unsure how to respond to the man.
Oddly enough, even though my leg was touched, I wasn’t very angry. After he withdrew his hand, I even felt a kind of empty loss.
“I must be crazy to crave a stranger’s touch!” I inwardly scolded myself while my fingers glided along the man's spine towards his lower back.
In this position, I inevitably had to lean down, gently pressing my belly against the man's head, my chest resting on his back.
The man then lifted his hand and caressed my waist, lightly kneading.
A shiver ran through me.
That was my vulnerable spot, particularly sensitive. His slight handling had me instantly weak, my whole body soft and powerless.
“Your waist is so slim, especially with such a perky butt.”
“If I were your husband, I’d make sure you couldn’t leave the bed every night.”
As he spoke, his hand gradually moved to the back of my buttocks, kneading as if they were dough, with a demeaning pleasure.
My buttocks were the parts I was most satisfied with in my body. Though no longer a young girl, they were still plump and firm, particularly attractive when arched, a position both my college boyfriend and husband dearly loved.
But at this moment, it was in the hands of a stranger, and shockingly, I didn’t try to escape; my body transitioned from being stiff and tense to smooth and pliant.
Biting my lower lip, I glanced towards the full-length mirror beside me.
In an instant, I was confused.
The reflection showed a young woman with flushed cheeks and dewy eyes, as if emitting a sense of spring.
Was that me?
So this is what I look like when I’m unsatisfied!
As he became more bold, the air in the room felt charged with the thrill of an illicit affair.
I felt my waist moving as if trying to express something, and the twisting of my buttocks, as though asking for more.
“No… this isn’t right!”
Finally, I could no longer bear the man’s fondling. Clinging to what little remaining composure I had, I pushed away his hands and stumbled towards the door.
But he swiftly got off the bed and blocked the doorway.
The man stood there in just disposable underwear, visibly bulging and intimidating.
I dared not look, my heart pounding, covering my face and gasping, “This is a respectable establishment, if you need to vent, go find a prostitute…”
My voice was as soft as a bubble guppy, hardly audible to even myself, faced with a scene too embarrassing to bear.
With a “clang,” the man shut the door.
He caught me by the waist in one fluid movement, lifting me off the ground.
“Ah!” I let out a small yelp, inadvertently wrapping my arms around his neck, never imagining being cradled by a stranger, leaving me feeling dizzy and short of breath.
“I just want to vent on you.” The man said as he tossed me onto the bed, then grabbed my waist and flipped me over with force.
“No… please, no…”
Twisting my body, trying to escape this sense of loss of control, his grip tightened around my waist.
In my panic, I couldn't speak clearly, blushing and shaking my head, wanting to hide, wanting to flee, but also wanting to comply.
At that moment, one of his hands slipped under my skirt.
Oh God! Oh God!
I quickly pressed down on his hand, “Don’t... don’t move.”
“All hot and bothered like this, yet still playing innocent?” The man boldly lifted my skirt, pinning my hands behind my back with one arm, holding me down securely.
My buttocks, the part of my body I was most proud of, though no longer that of a young girl’s, remained plump and firm, especially attractive when arched – a favorite position of both my college boyfriend and my husband.
But now, it was in the hands of a stranger, yet I found myself making no attempt to escape. My body shifted from rigidity and tension to a smooth, softened state.
I bit my lip, turning my head to glance at the full-length mirror beside me.
In that moment, I felt lost.
The reflected image of the young woman had cheeks flushed with color, eyes glistening as if filled with hints of spring.
Was that really me?
So this is what unsatisfied longing looks like on me!
As he grew increasingly bold, the air in the room thickened with the electrifying thrill of an affair.
I felt my waist moving as if to convey something, while the writhing of my buttocks seemed as though inviting more.
“No... this isn’t right!”
At last, I could no longer endure his touches. Holding onto the last shred of my sanity, I pushed his hands away and scrambled towards the door.
But he quickly leaped off the bed and blocked my path.
The man was wearing nothing but a disposable underwear, intimidatingly large.
I didn't dare look there, my heart pounding wildly as I covered my face and gasped for air, “Our establishment is legitimate, if you want relief, go find a prostitute…”
My voice was so faint, barely audible even to myself, confronted with a scene too embarrassing to endure.
With a “clang,” the man shut the door.
He scooped me up in his arms effortlessly.
“Ah!” I let out a small yelp, reflexively clinging to his neck, taken aback by the prospect of being cradled by a stranger, feeling dizzy and struggling to breathe evenly.
“I intend to unleash my desires only on you,” the man declared as he tossed me onto the bed, then grasping my waist to flip me over.
“No… please don’t…”
I twisted my body, attempting to escape the overwhelming sensation of losing control, yet he firmly held me by the waist.
Panicking, I found myself unable to articulate clearly, blushing and shaking my head, wanting to dodge, wanting to escape, but also desiring to reciprocate.
Then, his hand crept under my skirt.
Oh, dear God!
I hurriedly pressed down on his hand, “Don’t… don’t move.”
“All worked up and still pretending to be pure?” the man said bluntly as he flipped up my skirt, using one arm to pin my hands behind my back, as though treating me like a captive, holding me down firmly.
Admiring my most private attire, the man seemed triumphant.
The word “slut,” spoken so bluntly, weighed heavily on me, causing a surge of panic. The realization that someone discovered I was wearing provocative lingerie made me want to vanish, “No… it’s not like that…”
I clenched my legs together, trying to resist his advances, but my body felt as though it was bound by silk, void of any strength to struggle.
The man's strength was overwhelming, nearly crushing my waist.
Yet, this forceful dominance strangely aroused me, igniting a latent desire within, warming up my innermost self.
I was speechless, mouth agape, breathing heavily, still resisting, yet not so much against his violation but rather against my own burgeoning desire.
Until the moment, he suddenly tore off my provocative lingerie, bending it at my knees.
My heart sank: it was over.
Like conceding defeat in a race, the loser’s spirit is crushed, and I momentarily ceased my resistance, submissively allowing him to undress me completely...
Just then, the ring on my left hand prickled me slightly.
I couldn't let things continue this way; otherwise, I'd make an irrevocable mistake!
With all my strength, I pushed his hand away, my eyes suddenly clear and determined.
Firmly, I spoke, “Any further and I’m calling the police!”
The man stared into my eyes, his expression deep and conflicted, as if hesitating to speak.
After a long standoff, he finally withdrew, begrudgingly.
I quickly freed myself from his grip, swiftly sitting upright and dressing myself in haste.
Before leaving, I paused at the door, leaving him with a stern warning.
“Please leave immediately.”
With that, I hurriedly left the massage room.
Once outside, I couldn’t hide the turmoil within me, nervously glancing around as if fearing someone might have witnessed the scene.
Only after settling down in my office did I take a deep breath, feeling slightly relieved.
The memory of that man’s lust-filled demeanor lingered in my mind, the physical reaction undeniable, as evidenced by the blush creeping onto my cheeks from the recollection.
Thinking of my usually attentive husband, I was overcome with guilt.
The overpowering male pheromones that man exuded were something no woman could easily resist.
I tried to console myself internally, attempting to ease the guilt buried deep within my heart.
Not until I saw the man leave through the surveillance did I allow myself to relax, making my way to the reception only to find he had left a business card.
Without a glimmer of interest, I tossed the card into the trash, determined to sever any potential ties with this man in the future.
I thought this chapter would remain buried forever, but little did I know, I would soon face him again.
Returning home, I entered my usual routine in the kitchen when my husband suddenly embraced me from behind, resting his head on my shoulder.
“Honey, I’ve invited a friend over for dinner tonight, so let’s prepare a couple more dishes.”
My husband rarely brought guests over, so I initially thought it was his childhood friend, Lao Ye, and his family.
“Is it Lao Ye and his family? It’s been a while since they’ve visited. I kind of miss their little Yuan Yuan…”
Only to be corrected by my husband.
“Not them. He’s a colleague from work, currently working together on a big project. We get along well, so I decided to invite him over.”
I paused my movements, immediately inquiring, “Who is it? You’ve never mentioned him before.”
My husband playfully teased, “You’ll see when he arrives.”
Just then, the doorbell chimed.
Pointing towards the entrance, my husband added, “I’ll get the door.”
I quickly straightened myself up, ready to welcome our guest with my best appearance.
As the door opened, revealing a tall figure outside.
My husband affectionately patted the newcomer’s shoulder, inviting him in.
When their conversation ceased, and I stepped out from the kitchen.
My eyes locked onto that familiar figure, leaving me petrified.
The man was tall and imposing, towering over my husband. His well-defined chest muscles strained against his shirt, suggesting immense strength.
And that face… wasn’t it the enigmatic man from the massage parlor?
Those captivating eyes reappeared before me, causing my forehead to pulsate with tension.
As I emerged, my husband eagerly made introductions, “Honey, let me introduce you to Zhao Lei.”
Then, turning to Zhao Lei, he continued, “Lei Zi, this is my wife, Cheng Yu.”
I swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze, merely nodding before quickly diverting my attention.
Zhao Lei seemed equally stunned, frozen in place, staring intently at me.
With his piercing gaze fixed on me, I felt uncomfortably on edge, my back tingling with unease.
“Don’t just stand at the door, come on in!”
My husband, seemingly oblivious to the odd tension between us, warmly ushered him inside.
The man hurriedly complied, soon carrying an assortment of foods into the kitchen.
I quickly took them from his hands, unintentionally brushing his fingers.
Suppressing the odd flutter in my heart, I tried to make light of the situation,
“It’s enough that you came, no need for all this extra…”
Zhao Lei chuckled softly, his voice deep and magnetic.
“How could I come empty-handed? Brother Xia definitely wouldn’t accept a gift, so I thought I’d just bring some ingredients over.”
“You know me too well.”
The two shared a hearty laugh before settling onto the sofa for a chat.
I busied myself in the kitchen with the evening meal, this man’s presence disrupting my peace of mind.
I couldn’t have imagined encountering him again, at home.
Was he unaware of who I was that day, insisting on having me perform his massage?
Now recognizing me, would he dare divulge that day’s events to my husband?
Logically shaking my head, discarding such thoughts, I reasoned, “A friend’s wife should not be coveted. If my husband knew, it’d be awkward for them at the company.”
Unable to overhear their conversation from the kitchen, I continued preparing dinner with a restless heart.
After the meal, sitting beside my husband, I avoided any eye contact.
My husband enthusiastically encouraged Zhao Lei to eat.
“Dig in, make yourself at home.”
I must admit, Zhao Lei was immensely attractive. Whether it was his robust muscles or those seemingly magical eyes, they easily stirred my emotions.
I inwardly scolded myself for my weakness while forcefully maintaining my composure amidst their questioning.
Out of the blue, Zhao Lei struck up a conversation with me, “Sister-in-law, your cooking is delicious!”
This term of endearment, coming from his mouth, felt somewhat awkward.
I managed a forced smile, my husband interjected, “Then you should visit us more often.”
Zhao Lei’s gaze lingered on me, sending shivers down my spine.
Staying a moment longer felt unbearable. I hastily excused myself from the table.
“You two enjoy your meal. I’m not feeling well, so I’ll be heading inside.”
As the lady of the house, my abrupt departure was admittedly inappropriate, but faced with Zhao Lei, a variable I could not predict, even risking my husband’s displeancure was preferable.
As expected, my husband appeared displeased but nonetheless gestured for me to go.
Just as I approached the door, he called out, “We’re going to have some drinks tonight. If you’re tired, go ahead and sleep first.”
“Don’t stay up too late,” I responded before stepping into the familiar comfort of our bedroom.
Finally, in the safety of our room, I could relax, intermittently hearing laughter from the living room.
After a night’s rest, I woke to a chilling breeze, shivering as a measure of consciousness returned.
But I felt as though someone was undressing me?
This sensation became increasingly real, straining my eyes to see...
To my horror, it was Zhao Lei hovering above me!
“You, what are you doing!”
I screamed at the top of my lungs, exerting all my strength to kick him away.
The surprise strength sent Zhao Lei reeling, releasing his grip on me.
By then, he’d nearly stripped me bare, leaving me just in my underwear. I frantically grabbed a blanket to cover my exposed body.
My uncontrollable screaming, the fear enveloping me…
Desperate, I shouted for my husband, to no avail.
Was he not at home?
Zhao Lei, like a wild animal, left marks all over me, rendering my efforts futile against a grown man accustomed to regular workouts.
It seemed my husband wouldn’t come to my rescue. It was up to me to save myself!
Noticing a fruit knife yet to be put away on the nightstand, I hatched a plan.
Pretending to surrender, I ceased resistance, reciprocating his advances to lower his guard.
Believing he’d conquered me with his charm, Zhao Lei relaxed, wholly absorbed in his foreplay.
Seizing the moment of his distraction, I grabbed the knife with lightning speed, pressing it against his throat.
Zhao Lei froze, the cold blade sending shivers down his spine as he gasped in shock.
With tight lips, I sternly declared, “Make any more moves, and I’ll call the police!”
Drawing back the knife, I removed the blade from his skin.
My demeanor showed
