Her marriage had become a stale echo of what it once was. The passion, the fire, had dwindled to embers. Lin, a striking Chinese woman with cascading black hair and a naturally curvy figure (Cup D, to be precise), felt a growing void. Her husband, preoccupied with work, seemed oblivious to her needs. She longed for a connection, a spark… something more.
She found herself increasingly drawn to the thought of another man – a younger, more virile presence. The idea haunted her days and inflamed her nights. A coworker mentioned a new massage parlor known for its… talented staff. Lin, after weeks of internal debate, made an appointment.
The masseur, a muscular young man named Jian, greeted her with a respectful bow. His eyes, however, held a spark that mirrored her own. He exuded a raw energy, a confidence that both intimidated and excited her. As he began working on her tense muscles, she felt a forbidden thrill coursing through her veins.
The massage progressed, each touch sending shivers down her spine. He lingered a little longer on her lower back, his fingers brushing against her skin in ways that were anything but professional. The air crackled with unspoken desire. She could sense his body heat as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "You seem tense," he whispered, his voice husky. "Let me take care of that... completely."
What happened next was a blur of forbidden pleasure. He led her to a hidden room, the air thick with anticipation. Clothes were shed, inhibitions discarded. His big cock, hard and throbbing, was everything her husband’s wasn't. She arched her back as he entered her, a moan escaping her lips. He explored her body with unrestrained passion, paying special attention to her sensitive spots. Anal was next, a thrilling violation that pushed her to the edge. He pounded into her, his movements becoming increasingly frenzied. The room was filled with their moans and gasps.
Finally, with a guttural cry, he exploded inside her, filling her with his seed. Creampie. She lay there, breathless and sated, a strange mix of guilt and euphoria washing over her. The encounter was wrong, so very wrong, yet it had awakened something deep within her. She knew she couldn't go back to her old life. Not now that she had tasted the forbidden fruit. The amateur encounter, fueled by her POV, was a new beginning.
