That was three years ago.
At that time, I was still a university student, majoring in English. University life was actually quite idle. Apart from surfing the internet and playing games, the brothers in the dormitory took turns watching videos, which kept everyone constantly horny. Financially constrained, we rarely went out for real entertainment, so we had to rely on ourselves to solve it.
Besides these, I have a small hobby—buying lottery tickets, especially the Double Color Ball.
The lottery shop owner's wife is in her early thirties, about 1.6 meters tall, with long hair, a瓜子脸 (oval face), and a substantial pair in front that sway gently when she walks, particularly eye-catching. She speaks with a somewhat lazy tone, and her eyes occasionally drift over, making one feel she's actually quite wanton at heart.
At first, when we went to buy lottery tickets, we just exchanged ordinary greetings. After going there many times, we gradually became familiar; occasionally I would crack a joke, and she would not get angry, only blush and chide me with a “bad guy.”
What completely changed our relationship was a rainy day.
That day, I came out of the internet cafe and stopped by a lottery shop. There were no other customers inside. The shop owner's wife was engrossed in playing a mobile game, not noticing my entrance. I quietly walked up to her, but my gaze uncontrollably fell on the soft curves of her chest.
Just after watching the film, my mind was full of naked images. As if possessed, I reached out and pretended to snatch her phone.
She subconsciously dodged to the side and leaned forward a little. We were already close together, and with that movement, her lips happened to collide with mine.
Both of them were stunned.
A few seconds later, she suddenly stepped back, her face instantly blazing red, and she scolded in a low voice, “Bad guy... taking advantage of me.”
I was still immersed in the soft, warm sensation from moments ago, standing there foolishly motionless. Seeing my dazed look, she reached out and hit me, chiding, "What are you thinking about!"
Snapping out of it, I smiled and said, 'I'm savoring that taste from just now, the kind you only experience in dreams.'
“Hmph, bad guy.”
She reached out to hit me again, and I dodged while deliberately provoking her. In the midst of the playful scuffling, the atmosphere quietly changed. From then on, the jokes between us grew bolder and bolder, and our looks at each other changed too.
Another rainy weekend.
I was originally going to an internet cafe, but halfway there, I suddenly turned and headed straight to the lottery shop. As expected, she was alone in the shop, wearing a short skirt and long stockings, reading a book with her head down.
My heart is beating a bit fast.
Walking up behind her, I directly reached out from behind and grasped her breasts.
She was startled, let out a soft cry, and turned to look at me, her eyes showing surprise but no real anger.
“You bad guy... you...”
I increased the pressure of my hand, kneading the soft mound through her clothes. Her breathing became ragged, her face flushed deeply, yet she didn't push me away forcefully.
“Hurry up and close the door...” she finally said softly, with a trace of trembling laughter in her voice.
I almost ran to lock the door.
When she turned around, she was already standing up, leaning against the counter and looking at me. I walked over, wrapped my arm around her waist, and lowered my head to kiss her lips. She let out an “mm,” closed her eyes, and wrapped both arms around my neck.
This kiss was deeper than the last time. My tongue pried open her teeth, entangling with hers. One hand continued kneading her breast, the other slid to her rounded buttocks, giving them a few firm squeezes.
Her body gradually softened, her breathing growing increasingly rapid.
I couldn't help but pull open her collar and undo her bra. That pair of fair, plump breasts sprang out, their shape still excellent, the pinkish-brown nipples already slightly hardened. I lowered my head, took one into my mouth, sucked hard, my tongue circling the areola, teeth gently nibbling. The other hand grabbed the other breast, continuously kneading and pulling.
“Mm……gentler……” She held my head, her fingers threading into my hair, her voice already carrying obvious lust.
My hand moved downward, lifted her skirt, and caressed the already heated area through her stockings and panties. The middle of her panties was damp with a small wet patch. I pulled down her stockings and panties, and my fingers directly touched the warm, wet, slippery slit.
Her pubic hair was sparse but very dark, and her labia were slightly parted due to excitement, with clear fluid seeping out.
I couldn't hold back any longer, quickly took off my own pants, thrusting my already painfully hard thing, aimed at her entrance, and plunged in.
“Ah……” She let out a soft cry, and the inner wall immediately wrapped tightly around me.
The sensation was hot and tight, making my scalp tingle. I paused for a few seconds to adjust, then began thrusting vigorously. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her hips actively meeting mine, and intermittent moans escaped her lips.
Because it was the first time I had really done it, I simply couldn't control the rhythm. Before long I felt I was about to come, so I had no choice but to lift her legs and brace them in the crook of my arms, then sped up and slammed forward more than a dozen times, ejaculating all into her body.
She patted my head and said with a smile, "You're just so impatient... take it slower next time."
We each straightened our clothes. But when I saw her bending over to straighten her skirt from behind, the thing that had just gone soft actually got hard again.
I lifted her skirt from behind again, pressed her against the counter, and thrust inside for the second time.
This time I deliberately slowed down, feeling every inch of her inner contractions. She whimpered softly with each thrust, her fingers tightly gripping the counter edge. When I ejaculated for the second time, I intentionally thrust to the deepest point, letting her receive it fully.
From that day on, there was no going back between us.
As long as there were no customers in the shop, I would find an excuse to go over. Sometimes I’d just hug her from behind, sometimes I’d pin her in a chair, and sometimes I’d simply make her legs go weak.
She also seemed to be letting herself go more and more. She would take the initiative to put on stockings and wait for me, clench on purpose when I entered, and bite my shoulder during orgasm so she wouldn’t cry out too loudly.
Once, just a few days after her period ended, I still couldn't resist doing it. Afterward, she leaned on my chest and said lazily, 'You little rascal... don't go getting me pregnant in the future.'
I smiled and went to kiss her; she wasn't really angry.
During those days, university life suddenly became something to look forward to. Every time it rained, or when there were few customers in the shop, my heart would race as I walked towards the lottery store.
And she would always look at me with that half-smiling gaze, then walk to the door and hang up the 'Closed' sign.
As soon as the door closed, our secret time began.
Some desires, once ignited, can never be put out.
And we are all immersed in it, unwilling to wake up.
After the first time, I went to the lottery shop much more often. Before, I went to buy Double Color Ball tickets; now, more often, it was for her.
She also seemed to cooperate with me in tacit understanding. As long as there were few customers in the shop, or when it was almost the noon or evening shift change, she would prepare the “Closed” sign in advance. The moment I walked in, the look in her eyes would change—not just an ordinary greeting, but with a hint of probing, a hint of anticipation, and desire she couldn’t hide.
The second time I went was on a weekday afternoon.
There was only one regular customer in the shop filling out a form. I pretended to casually look at numbers. After that person left, she looked up at me, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, then walked to the door, flipped the sign over, and locked it from the inside.
“So urgent?” she leaned against the doorframe, her voice tinged with laughter.
I don't answer, directly walk over, press her against the door, and kiss her. Her lips are softer than last time, and her response is more active. While our tongues tangle, her hand has already slipped under the hem of my shirt, stroking back and forth on my waist.
I picked her up and placed her on the counter, lifted her skirt. Today she was wearing a dark bodycon skirt with black lace panties underneath. I moved the panties aside and directly探进去 with my fingers. She was already somewhat wet.
“It was wet while that man was still there just now?” I asked on purpose.
Her face reddened, but she didn't deny it, just reached to undo my pants: 'Less talk... hurry up.'
When I thrust into her, she let out a satisfied sigh and actively wrapped her legs around my waist. The counter was a bit hard, her back was getting painfully bumped, yet she still pushed hard to meet me. Every time I thrust deepest, she would gently bite my shoulder, muffling her voice in her throat.
After one round, none of us hurried to separate. She leaned against my chest, panting, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on my back.
“Tomorrow... will you still come?” she suddenly asked.
I nodded.
She smiled, her voice a bit hoarse: 'Then come early. There are fewer customers at noon.'
From that day on, we almost formed a fixed rhythm.
As long as I didn’t have classes in the afternoon, or it was the weekend, I would head to the lottery shop. Sometimes I went twice a day. She seemed to be becoming more and more unable to do without that feeling as well. Once, I didn’t go for three straight days because I was cramming for finals; on the fourth day, when I went again, she pulled me into the little break room inside, locked the door, and took the initiative to straddle me.
The lounge had only an old sofa and a small table. The space was cramped, yet the air quickly grew scorching hot.
She unbuttoned her top herself, offering her breasts to my mouth, moving up and down while whispering: 'I missed you so much... these past few nights I did it myself, but it wasn't enough...'
I gripped her waist and thrust upward, asking her how she did it herself. Blushing, she described using her fingers, sometimes a small vibrator, but it never felt full enough. I said I'd bring something for her next time. Her eyes lit up, but then she shook her head: 'Not things... yours.'
That time, she climaxed particularly intensely, her inner walls spasming in waves, squeezing me so tightly I almost surrendered immediately. I held back and thrust a few dozen more times before releasing everything inside.
Afterward, she lay on top of me and lazily said, “The feeling of you ejaculating inside... is so strange. So full and hot.”
I asked her if she wasn't afraid. She was silent for a few seconds, then said softly: 'Safe period. And... I like it.'
This sentence made me even harder.
Later, we began trying more positions and places.
Once when it rained, there were almost no customers. We did it on the sofa, against the wall, even on the high stool she usually sat on. When I entered her from behind while she was wearing stockings, she was especially sensitive. The stockings got stretched out of shape, her toes tensed, and every time I thrust to the deepest point, she would let out fragmented whimpers.
Once she came two days before her period. She originally said we wouldn't do it, but in the end, she couldn't resist. That time she was especially wet and sensitive, and her orgasm came quickly and intensely. Afterwards, she leaned in my arms and said somewhat regretfully: 'It's all your fault... we clearly agreed not to do it.'
I kissed her ear, and she leaned her body even closer to me.
Over time, the默契 (tacit understanding) between us grew deeper.
She began making preparations in advance. Sometimes she would wear open-front clothes so I could reach straight inside; sometimes she wouldn’t wear panties, only stockings; sometimes, before I even came in, she had already made herself somewhat wet, waiting for me to enter directly.
I also became bolder. I would hug her from behind while she was on the phone, my hand moving under her skirt. She had to force calmness while talking to clients, but her body trembled uncontrollably. As soon as she hung up, she would turn around and bite me, scolding me for being bad, yet her lower body would clench even tighter.
Once we were almost discovered.
A regular customer suddenly pushed the door open (she had forgotten to lock it that day), and we were doing it on the sofa. I quickly used my body to block her, while she frantically straightened her clothes. The customer only thought we were arguing, and with a smile he smoothed things over and left. Once the door was locked again, she went completely limp against me, both shaken and excited.
“You scared me to death...” she said.
Yet I felt her body was even hotter than before. So that time we did it especially fiercely, as if trying to transform the earlier fright into pleasure.
The relationship lasted for nearly half a year.
During that period, I had final exams, she went out of town to stock up on goods, I returned to my hometown for the holidays—we were interrupted several times. But each time we met again, it was more intense than the last. It was as if we were trying to make up for all the desire from the days we were apart in one go.
She gradually began to make requests proactively.
“Today I want you from behind……” “Today I want to go slower, I want you to do me for a long time……” “Today I want to watch you cum on my chest……”
Once she even suggested spending the night at the shop. That day, her husband was on a business trip, and she had left the child with her mother. We locked the shop door tightly, spread a blanket on the sofa in the break room, and did it over and over. Around two in the morning, she lay on top of me and suddenly looked at me very seriously.
“After you graduate... will you still come?”
I was taken aback for a moment.
She immediately laughed and dismissed the topic: 'Just asking casually. Don't take it to heart.'
But what was in those eyes was no longer just simple desire like at the beginning.
I didn't answer.
Because I myself didn't know the answer.
College life is still going on. Coursework, classmates, future plans... all of these realities kept reminding me that this relationship was destined to be only a secret. And she had a family, children, and her own life path.
But whenever she, beneath me, called out in confusion and desire, or lazily leaned in my arms after it was over, all reason would temporarily stop working.
We both knew that once this fire started burning, it would be hard to truly extinguish.
I can only carefully control it, not let it spread into reality.
Another rainy afternoon.
As usual, I walked into the shop. She was organizing lottery tickets. Seeing me, her eyes lit up, but she didn't lock the door immediately.
“A bit busy today, come back tonight.” she said softly.
I nodded, bought a few lottery tickets, and left.
A little after 9 p.m., I appeared again. The shop was already closed, with only the inside lights left on. She opened the door to let me in, and after locking it, the first thing she did was kiss me.
This kiss was more urgent than any before.
She pulled me towards the break room, undoing her clothes as we walked. By the time I closed the door, she was already down to her underwear.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day today.” she said, her voice a little hoarse, “I was already wet by noon.”
I pressed her onto the sofa, starting by kissing her neck and moving downward. She was especially sensitive today; just lightly licking her nipple with my tongue made her arch her back. By the time my lips moved between her legs, she was already trembling slightly.
I wasn't in a hurry to enter, instead using my tongue to carefully attend to her. Her fingers tangled in my hair, her voice intermittent: 'Don't... don't do that... just come in...'
I deliberately dawdled until she was almost begging. When I finally thrust in, she let out a long sigh, her inner walls tightly gripping me as if trying to swallow me whole.
That night, we did it for a long time.
Tried several positions, rested twice in between, then continued. She climaxed again and again, until her voice grew hoarse, and she could only weakly grip my arm, letting me do as I pleased.
The last time I came inside her, she had almost no strength left, just slightly lifting her hips, taking me deeper.
Afterward, we lay side by side on the narrow sofa, listening to the rain outside.
Her fingers slowly traced something on my chest, and she suddenly spoke up: 'Next month... I might need to close for a few days for renovations.'
“And then?”
“After the renovation... will you still come?”
I turned my head to look at her. She wasn't looking at me, just staring at the ceiling.
“Come.” I said.
She softly 'mm'-ed, leaning her body a bit closer to me.
The rain is still falling.
The air in the shop was damp and warm, mixed with the scent left after desire.
Neither of us spoke again.
Because once some things begin, they can only go to the place they are meant to go to.
And we have gone too deep, unable to turn back anymore.
After the renovation was completed, the shopfront was completely renewed, with an additional slightly more spacious inner room. She specifically placed a foldable bed that could accommodate a person lying down in that inner room.
“For a convenient rest.” She explained it this way.
But we all know what that bed was really for.
Since then, our meetings became even more regular and more concealed. She would message me in advance to tell me which day had fewer guests, which day her husband would not be there, and which day she could stay a little longer. I would adjust my time according to the class schedule and try to appear when it was most convenient for her.
Their physical默契 had reached an astonishing level.
Her fingers would just touch me, and I would get hard; my hand would just probe under her skirt, and she would get wet. Often, we didn't even need much foreplay, entering directly, and we could quickly find the rhythm most comfortable for each other.
But the more familiar it gets, the easier it is to want to try new things.
Once she took the initiative and suggested using a scarf to cover her eyes. I did as she asked. After losing her sight, she became unusually sensitive, trembling slightly with every touch. I deliberately prolonged the foreplay, teasing her with my fingers, lips, and breath until she couldn't help but beg me.
There was also one time I brought a little prop—a pair of vibrating nipple clips. She was somewhat resistant at first, but after putting them on she adapted quickly, and even took the initiative to turn the vibration to maximum. When I entered her, the stimulation on her chest made her climax come faster and fiercer, and the squeezing of her inner walls nearly made me surrender immediately.
The craziest time was when we stayed overnight at the shop.
That day, her husband took the children back to their hometown, and she told me in advance that I could stay. We did it from evening until late at night, taking only brief breaks in between. She hardly let me pull out, always using various methods to make me hard again soon after I softened, then swallowing it once more.
“No need to rush off today……” she said close to my ear, “we can keep going all day.”
That night, I came four times. The last time was almost empty, but she still clenched tightly around me, unwilling to let me pull out.
When dawn came, we were all exhausted. She lay on my chest, listening to my heartbeat, and suddenly said very softly:
“If only days like this... could last forever.”
I didn't respond.
Because I knew this was impossible.
The final year of college arrived quickly. Internships, the graduation thesis, job hunting... all the realities pressed down one after another. I started going to the lottery shop less often. Sometimes I couldn't spare the time for two weeks in a row.
She didn't complain, just held on a little tighter each time they met, did it a little harder.
Like clutching onto every last bit of time you can still hold on to.
The last time I went to see her before graduation was a sunny day.
There were no customers in the shop. She saw me, paused for a moment, then slowly walked over and locked the door.
We didn't rush to start as usual. We just sat on the small bed in the inner room, chatting idly. We talked about my work, her children, and some trivial matters.
In the end, it still happened.
This time was slower and quieter than any before. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, her body gently rising and falling with my movements, occasionally letting out soft, fragmented sounds.
At the end, she didn't get up immediately but lay quietly for a while, maintaining the entered position.
“Just work hard after you graduate.” she said, “Don’t keep running to places like this anymore.”
I let out an "Mm-hmm."
She smiled, reached out and touched my face: 'Go. What must end will end.'
When I left, she didn't see me to the door, just stood in the inner room watching me.
Sunlight streamed in from the door, clearly outlining her silhouette.
I looked back at her one last time, then pushed the door open and walked out.
The door closed gently behind me.
Some desires, once ignited, can never be completely extinguished.
But some relationships can only stop where they are supposed to stop. And we have already burned away everything that could be burned.
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