Chapter 3 — The Confession: A Chinese Couple's Invitation to a Threesome (Part 1) (3)

James and I got married ten years ago. Right after graduating from university, our parents arranged the wedding. We'd known each other since childhood.

Both James's father and mine were former high-ranking officials in the Chinese Communist Party. With the wave of liberalization, they amassed considerable wealth. Since they were close friends, we were practically brainwashed from an early age into believing we'd marry each other someday.

I didn't mind marrying James—he was handsome, tall, and wealthy. I'm sure he felt the same about me.

We officially started dating in high school. On the day we both got accepted into the same university, we had sex for the first time.

Throughout college, we were inseparable, constantly together, and deeply passionate. Sex was a shared joy between us.

After graduation, at our parents' urging, we married and left the country to study abroad. Though we called it studying, it was really more like immigration.

We arrived with substantial wealth and began investing in real estate. Our investments paid off spectacularly.

The average home price here was around $450,000 ten years ago. Now, it's over a million. That's just the official figure—real prices have tripled.

The surge is driven by the global trend of Chinese investors flooding English-speaking countries' property markets.

Since we bought early, we've reaped enormous profits.

Our combined net worth now exceeds thirty million dollars—about 3.5 billion won. At such a young age, we're incredibly wealthy.

To outsiders, we're the envy of all—beautiful, rich, and in love. But we carried a deep sorrow. After ten years of marriage, we had no children.

I longed to give birth to a son who looked just like James—handsome, strong. But strangely, it never happened.

Our parents had high hopes at first. Three years ago, we went to a fertility clinic. Shockingly, James was diagnosed with azoospermia—no sperm.

We considered artificial insemination, but the doctor said it would require donor sperm—someone else's.

We gave up. Instead, we decided to enjoy life. James and I moved to a small, quiet town.

All our real estate investments were in big cities, and the annual returns alone exceeded $200,000. Living simply in a small town felt more peaceful.

And then, another shift: we grew even more passionate about sex. Surprisingly, we began exploring swinging with other couples, even threesomes with other men.

But still, a hollow space remained in my heart. We considered adoption, but the idea of raising a child with no blood tie to either of us—no shared DNA—felt too distant, too foreign for our minds to fully accept.

Then one day, James made a radical proposal.

“What if the child comes from your body?” he asked. “If we choose a man with excellent genes, and you carry his baby… I could accept that. It would be better than adoption.”

I was stunned. I thought about it for a long time. But eventually, I agreed. It felt more natural than being injected with anonymous sperm—cold, clinical, impersonal.

I wanted to carry a child in my womb for ten months. To feel it grow. To know it came from me.

James said he'd found a man who met all the criteria. A Korean international student. He suggested we meet him first. His name was Daniel—Daniel Park in Korean.

When I first saw him, I was immediately drawn to his face. He looked like a K-drama star—the kind of face that made hearts flutter during the height of the Korean Wave in China.

On the day we first had a threesome, we subtly asked him questions, careful not to let him suspect our real intentions.

We learned he'd graduated from a top university in Korea and was now in graduate school.

He was tall, fit, intelligent—genetically ideal.

James and I both trace our ancestry not to the Han Chinese, but to the Baekdu lineage (called Changbai in China), so our features are closer to Korean than typical Chinese. In that sense, Daniel was perfect.

On the day we met, we had sex with him. His penis was nearly identical to James's. In many ways, he resembled James—same build, same face structure, even the same cock. It made me laugh.

After that first encounter, we made him an offer: move in with us.

He hesitated briefly, then accepted. He agreed to the conditions.

After his blood test, we finalized our plan. Strangely, even his blood type matched James's. The results showed he was completely healthy, no diseases—perfectly fit.

From that day on, I stopped using condoms with Daniel. I took his bare cock deep inside me, swallowing every drop of his cum, holding it in, not letting a single drop escape.

We still enjoyed threesomes with James, but most of the time, I had sex with Daniel.

By the third month, my body gave signs. A slight fever, nausea, a queasy stomach. I knew instantly—I was pregnant.

I told James. The pregnancy test was positive. We went to the hospital—the doctor confirmed it.

Coincidentally, it was time for Daniel to return home. We decided to throw him a grand farewell party.

We invited two white couples we'd known for years. We prepared delicious food and organized a sex party—entirely for Daniel.

Daniel didn't suspect a thing. I made sure to have sex with him one last time—for the baby. With the other two white men, I only gave oral.

But strangely, my heart ached. Was it because I saw him as the true father of my child? Or had three months of living together, of daily intimacy, made me fall for him?

Suddenly, he seemed so lovable. I loved my husband, James, deeply. But I already missed Daniel. I had a feeling I'd long to see him again.

Now he's gone. Returned to his homeland, Korea.

My belly swells day by day. When my parents heard the news, they were overjoyed and flew in to visit. A great blessing had come to our family.

Then the baby was born. A boy—his face the spitting image of Daniel.

James looks similar to Daniel, so everyone—including our parents—says the baby looks just like James. They're ecstatic.

For both families, this is a miracle. With strict one-child policies in the past, both sides had only one child each. Now, a new life—our heir—has arrived.

I'm endlessly grateful to Daniel.

And now, whenever I look at my son, I think of him.

Sometimes, I want to have a second child. I grew up an only child, lonely at times. I want my son to have a sibling.