Chapter 1 — The Strange Thing!

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

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I met her on a chat site. I couldn't be satisfied with the weekly ritual I had with my wife. And when spring bloomed, we'd go two weeks between encounters—that was just too much to bear. So I visited that infamous site everyone whispered about, and it turned out to be my lucky break.

She came to me too easily. I've always been brutally honest online, and I was with her too—telling her about the weekly routine, how unbearable it was, how I had to resort to bars, barbershops, or masturbation just to cope… At first, she seemed shocked, but gradually she opened up. Our messages grew hotter, more intense. I lacked confidence, so I hesitated to meet—instead, I poured all my pent-up desire into words, using them to claim her completely.

While chatting, she'd hold the phone to her ear, breathing hotly into the receiver. I'd pull down my damp underwear and stroke my erect cock, lost in sensation, consumed by the fantasy of her.

Then, neither of us remembers who suggested it first—we should meet. My heart pounded wildly.

Meeting another woman isn't easy. It's not something you just do, especially if you're a beginner. I waited at a run-down hotel café. Every time the door opened, my eyes darted toward it. I felt ridiculous. There were hardly any people around, so I stood out even more. I didn't even glance around until she finally approached—then I couldn't look away.

She sat down with an awkward, sheepish smile. Had this woman really whispered such fiery words to me online?

She was tall, in her late thirties, with a solid, athletic build. Her hips curved with a hunger that seemed capable of devouring two or three men. Her waist was tight, her figure strong—enough to fully satisfy my desires. She wasn't beautiful, but overall, I was pleased.

We didn't say much, but the sticky heat from our online chats seeped into our nervous smiles. We exchanged a few polite, meaningless lines, then parted ways. Later, I got a message—she thought I was really attractive.

Feeling my body grow hard again, we quickly made plans to meet again. This time, at a scenic seaside spot near her home, overlooking the quiet ocean. Reaching the same level of intimacy we'd shared online came easily. Then I drove her around nearby motels, circling endlessly. As a nervous beginner, I lacked the courage to go in—never thought this simple act could be so hard. Finally, I forced myself to enter the motel we'd just passed. I gently pushed her in from behind. Once inside the room, I tried to hide the awkwardness—lighting a cigarette, forcing small talk, anything. We ate the sushi she'd brought, trying to calm the mood, but then I remembered why I was there—time was running short.

I moved closer, gently wrapping my arm around her shoulder. She began to tremble. I whispered it was okay, that I wouldn't force her if she didn't want to—but still, she shook uncontrollably. I was completely at a loss.

I leaned in for a light kiss. She collapsed against my chest, her whole body trembling helplessly. Her teeth chattered, her lips turned pale blue. What was I doing? What had gone wrong? I told her we could just leave—but she stayed frozen, trembling in place.

I soothed her, stroking her shoulders until I gently placed my hand on her chest. She shivered, then took deep, ragged breaths—and grasped my hand.

I laid her down quietly and went to shower. Especially my swollen, raging cock—I caressed it gently. For a better tomorrow, I'd have to endure today.

When I came out, she was sitting up. I asked if she was okay. She nodded. I kissed her lightly, then gently gripped her waist with both hands.

She flinched, pulling back slightly—then slowly accepted my lips. She disappeared into the shower room. I downed a cold beer in one gulp.

When she came out, fully dressed, I held her tightly. Her large breasts pressed against my chest…

Feeling my lust surge, my hands boldly grabbed her soft, full breasts.

Huh?!

Her sharp cry was the only sound. Clothes came off. Her firm, elastic body lay beneath me, waiting. My lips found her entrance, teasing it. I sucked her nipples. I touched around her anus. When my fingers finally parted her folds and slipped inside, probing her soft inner walls, we were both lost. And when she suddenly took my cock deep into the mouth—Yes! I realized—this was why I came. This pleasure.

Her trembling had turned into hunger. Her desire now welcomed me with wild, frantic movements.

Finally, my cock reached her entrance, trying to push in—but the gate wouldn't open. Only slippery fluid glistened, but the door remained shut. It wasn't that her anus was more prominent—her vaginal opening was clearly there, yet it resisted.

I needed to slow down. Rushing only ruins everything. But she spread her legs wide, her arms flailing to wrap around my shoulders—pleading silently, Please, come inside me now. Then she let out a strange, pained moan.

I tried again to enter, but it was nothing like other women. Why? What was different?

I stepped off the bed, stood on the floor, and lifted her legs onto my shoulders. I squeezed her firm breasts—they felt alive in my hands. "Harder," she begged. I pressed against her entrance once more, guiding the tip of my cock up and down with my hand. Then, as I touched her wet, quivering ass with my fingers, my middle finger slipped smoothly into her anus. Something I'd never dared try with my wife.

That sensation alone nearly made me climax. She screamed, high and sharp—Kyaak! Kyaak!

Still keeping my thumb inside her anus, I tried mounting her. Again, failure. I couldn't hold back any longer—I was about to explode right there, outside.

Sensing my struggle, she quickly flipped onto her back, took my cock into the mouth—deep, all the way—then guided it with her hand toward her entrance.

Ah! Her opening wasn't like any other. It wasn't a simple slit. It was like a door where the threshold and lintel overlapped—a door where the upper lip pressed down firmly over the lower, like upper teeth biting down on lower.

Only after she guided me, rubbing my cock against her a few times, did I finally hear her gasp—Huh-uh!

It was exquisitely perfect. I never knew such a thing existed. My cock slid in and out with a smooth, snug sensation—pressed tightly from above and below. Even without effort, it felt like her lips were sucking my cock, her throat wrapping around the tip.

I thrust again and again, exploring her depths. As I pumped, I heard soft, wet puk-puk sounds—air escaping from inside her. She cried. I shouted.

I rose from the bed, bent my knees, gripped her hips, and pulled her lower body toward me. She screamed, Kwek! Kwek!

I felt my cock pierce deep into her, reaching all the way to her throat. Her screams faded. At the deepest thrust, she was thrown back, my lower body slamming against her upper torso, my cock pressing so hard it felt like her entrance was being torn, crushed—when suddenly she grabbed my hair, pulling my head close—and I exploded.

An incredibly long, violent climax. I felt like a part of my very being was ripped out, emptied. Only when her lips began licking my neck did I come back to my senses. We must have passed out for a moment, clinging to each other in exhaustion.

Now, we eat sushi together, affectionate and warm. We were starving. Is this how men and women grow close—after merging their bodies? Her trembling frame is now soft, damp like grass touched by dew.

That entrance—unbelievable. I've never seen anything like it in my life. She said her husband was too short, so it wasn't much fun. Well, no wonder—she needs several rubs just to open up.

I slipped a finger inside. The valley still remembers the storm—twitching, quivering, catching its breath.