The afternoon sun falls in golden angles over the rice fields, painting the swaying leaves amber in the warm breeze. Chen Li removes his straw hat and wipes his sweaty forehead with his forearm, watching his wife, Mei, gather the last of the vegetables from the garden. The cotton dress she wears, loose and faded from washing, fails to hide the generous curves that sway with every movement: the heavy breasts that bounce slightly under the thin fabric, the round backside that stands out even when she bends down to pull a handful of chives. Chen Li swallows hard, feeling the day's heat accumulate in his crotch. It's not the first time he's noticed how much his wife fills that dress, but today, for some reason, the thought burns him inside.
"Mei," he calls, his voice raspier than intended. "Come here."
She looks up, smiling with that sweetness that always disarms him. Her lips are thick, slightly parted, and a bead of sweat slides down her neck, disappearing into her cleavage. Chen Li unconsciously clenches his fists.
"Yes, husband?" she asks, approaching with slow steps, her hips oscillating as if she knew, instinctively, the effect she has on him.
"I think you should wear something more… appropriate for the weather," he lies, though not entirely. "The sun is strong here in the countryside. You don't want to get burned."
Mei furrows her brow, confused, but she nods. She doesn't question him. She never does. From behind his back, Chen Li pulls out a small package wrapped in tissue paper. He unfolds it with fingers that tremble slightly, revealing two pieces of shiny, electric blue fabric, so tight they look painted onto the skin.
"A bikini," Mei whispers, touching the material with fingertips that accidentally dig in. "But… what for?"
"So you'll be comfortable," he replies, though his gaze is entangled in how those breasts would rise, contained but not hidden, how that great ass would be marked like two perfect moons under the sun. "Put it on. Now."
She obeys, though her cheeks flush pink. She hides behind a fruit tree, but Chen Li doesn't take his eyes off the trunk, imagining every movement: the dress falling to her feet, the bikini straps tightening over her shoulders, the fabric stretching to encompass that flesh that seems made to be adored. When she emerges, the air escapes his lungs.
The top is a miniscule triangle, unable to fully contain her breasts; the sides overflow like freshly baked bread dough, and the valley between them is a tempting shadow. The bottom is even worse: a strip of fabric that digs between her buttocks, exposing the soft flesh of her thighs and the start of that furrow that Chen Li has explored a thousand times with his hands, but which now, under the implacable sun, seems to scream for outside attention.
"I don't know if this is… decent," Mei murmurs, crossing her arms over her chest, but the gesture only pushes her tits upward, making the bikini sink deeper into the valley.
"You look beautiful," Chen Li says, though his throat is dry. "Perfect."
And then he sees him. His neighbor, Lao Wang, appears at the edge of the field, with a yoga mat under his arm and a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, but somewhere lower. He is a tall man with broad shoulders, his torso marked by years of physical labor, and black boxers that don't hide the bulge growing between his legs as he sets his eyes on Mei.
"Good day to stretch the muscles," Lao Wang says, running his tongue over his lips. "The air is… charged."
Chen Li feels his own arousal intertwine with something darker, something that makes him stay still, watching, when he should intervene. Mei, oblivious to it all, smiles and waves.
"Yoga?" she asks, innocent. "I've never tried it."
"I'll teach you," Lao Wang replies, spreading the mat over the tall grass. "Come. It's easy."
Mei looks at Chen Li, seeking approval. He nods, even as his fingers dig into his own thighs. *This is just a game,* he tells himself. *A game I can stop whenever I want.*
But when Mei kneels on the mat, with her round buttocks pointing toward the sky and the bikini sinking into the furrow of her ass like a finger inviting one to follow, Chen Li knows there is no turning back.
"Start with the cat pose," Lao Wang instructs, positioning himself behind her. "Arch your back. Yes, like that. More."
Mei obeys, and the movement makes her breasts sway, nearly spilling out of the top. The bikini tightens against her skin, the fabric already damp with sweat, clinging to the lips of her cunt like a second skin. Lao Wang doesn't miss a detail. He approaches, too close, and places his hands on her hips.
"Breathe," he whispers, and Chen Li sees how the man's fingers sink into Mei's soft flesh, how his thumb accidentally brushes the edge of the bikini where the cleft of her backside begins. "Deep."
Mei gasps, and the sound is so sweet that Chen Li gets hard instantly. Lao Wang smiles, as if he knew exactly the effect he's having, and then—oh God—he slides a hand down, following the curve of her back until it rests just above her ass.
"This pose requires… support," he murmurs, and before Mei can react, he pulls her back, making her backside press tight against his crotch.
The moan that escapes her is involuntary, a high-pitched, needy sound that makes Chen Li grit his teeth. He can see the bulge in Lao Wang's boxers, hard as a stone, pressing against his wife's buttocks. The man rubs subtly, moving his hips in slow circles, and Mei's bikini—damn, that cursed bikini—clings more to her skin, revealing how the fabric is dampening not just from sweat, but from something thicker, more obscene.
"Is this okay?" Mei asks, with a voice that is no longer entirely her own.
"Perfect," Lao Wang grunts, and then he does something that makes Chen Li's stomach churn: he slides his hand between their bodies, right where the bikini digs between her buttocks, and rubs.
The sound is unmistakable. A wet *squelch*, the sound of fabric moving against lubricated skin. Mei gasps, her fingers digging into the mat, and Chen Li sees how his husband—no, his neighbor—bites his lower lip, his eyes narrowed with lust.
"You're very tense," Lao Wang says, and then, without warning, he sinks two fingers under the elastic of the bikini, directly between her cheeks. "You need to… relax."
"Mei," Chen Li grunts, but it's a weak sound, drowned out by the moan his wife lets out when those fingers find her tight hole.
"Ah!" she screams, but she doesn't pull away. On the contrary, she pushes her ass back, as if asking for more.
Lao Wang needs no further invitation. With a quick movement, he lowers his boxers just enough to free his cock, thick and throbbing, the head already glistening with precum. Chen Li sees it, huge and veiny, brushing against Mei's bikini, staining it with his moisture.
"This is also part of the stretching," the neighbor murmurs, guiding his dick between Mei's buttocks, rubbing against the fabric that is already soaked. "Just… slide against me."
And she does. Mei moves her hips in small circles, moaning every time the tip of that dick hits her forbidden entrance, even through the bikini. The sounds are obscene: the wet splash of her moist cunt, the rubbing of the fabric against her clitoris, the wet thud of Lao Wang's cock sliding between her cheeks.
"You're such a good student," he grunts, and then, with a sudden movement, he pushes the bikini aside and rams the tip of his dick against Mei's virgin hole.
"Wait!" she cries, but her body says otherwise: she arches, offers more of herself, and Chen Li can see how that tight ring stretches around the head of Lao Wang's cock, swallowing it millimeter by millimeter.
"Shhh," the neighbor whispers, licking her earlobe while he penetrates her with torturous slowness. "Just a little bit. To get you used to it."
Chen Li should stop him. He should. But instead, he just reaches out and takes Mei's hand, their fingers intertwining while his wife is opened, stretched, and used by another man. Sweat slides down his back, but it's not just from the heat. It's from the image of that thick dick disappearing between his wife's buttocks, from the muffled moans coming from her throat every time Lao Wang pushes a bit deeper.
"So tight," the neighbor grunts, and then he does something that makes Chen Li almost come in his pants: he pulls his cock out, wet with Mei's fluids, and rubs it against the bikini, right over her cunt, before sinking back into her ass.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Mei screams, her thighs trembling, and Chen Li knows she is about to come, just from that, just from having another man inside her, stretching her, marking her.
Lao Wang doesn't stop. Every time he pulls his dick out, he uses it to rub Mei's clitoris through the bikini, and every time he enters again, he does so with a bit more force, making her buttocks shake. The sounds are a symphony of perversion: the *thlap* of skin against skin, the *gulp* of her hole swallowing that cock, the broken gasps of his wife.
"I want… I want more," Mei moans, and Chen Li feels his own cock throb with painful need.
"Of course, darling," Lao Wang replies, and then, with a fluid movement, he turns her over until she is on her back on the mat, her legs spread, her bikini completely to one side, revealing that pink and shiny cunt, and that hole that is no longer quite so tight.
Chen Li watches his neighbor position himself between Mei's legs, how he guides his dick back toward her ass, but this time from above, allowing him to see everything: how it opens, how it swallows that thick flesh, how the lips of her cunt contract every time Lao Wang's cock hits something deep inside her.
"Look at me," the neighbor orders, and Mei obeys, her eyes glassy, her mouth half-open. "Like that. That's how I like it. Seeing that little whore face while I fuck your ass the way you deserve."
Chen Li should feel rage. He should. But instead, he just squeezes his wife's hand, feeling how her fingers dig into his as Lao Wang begins to move in earnest, his hips slamming against her buttocks with a rhythm that makes the ground tremble.
"You're going to come," the neighbor grunts. "You're going to come with my dick in your ass, you bitch."
"Yes! Yes! Please!" Mei screams, and Chen Li sees how her cunt contracts, how a squirt of clear liquid shoots out of her, soaking the mat.
Lao Wang grunts, his muscles tensing, and then he rams his dick in all the way, holding it there as his hot semen floods Mei's intestine. She screams, her body shakes, and Chen Li feels his own dick explode in his pants, staining the fabric while his wife is marked by another man.
When Lao Wang finally withdraws, his dick glitters with a mixture of lubricant, sweat, and semen. Mei lies on the mat, panting, her legs still spread, her ass reddish and slightly swollen, the ruined bikini clinging to her skin.
"Good girl," the neighbor whispers, and then, as if nothing had happened, he takes a piece of fruit from his pocket and offers it to Mei. "Eat. You need to regain your strength."
She accepts, biting the mango with lips that still tremble, while Lao Wang wipes his dick with her bikini as if it were a rag. Chen Li watches all this, his hand still intertwined with his wife's, and for the first time, he feels the weight of what he has just allowed.
But when Mei looks at him, her eyes bright and with a timid smile, as if she had just discovered a delicious secret, Chen Li knows one thing for certain:
This will not be the last time.