Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 4.5 Female Perspective

It’s been exactly two years since I married my childhood sweetheart, Ivan.

Of course, we had our fights during those two years, but Ivan and I were happy.

Only the person themselves knows another’s true feelings. While some might doubt this, we both could confidently declare each other’s happiness.

After all, we were able to marry the person we loved for so long, and we’ve never seen anyone say that we were unhappy.

Born and raised in Tyta—a town far east of Moscow—we attended the same high school. We were separated during university, but fate brought us back together when we both secured jobs in the same city.

As if guided by destiny, we fell in love and became inseparable.

My family has been Orthodox Christians for generations, but this reunion felt so divinely orchestrated that it carved the belief in God’s existence deeper into my heart than ever before.

 

“Take care, Ivan.”

 

Ivan, a Moscow police officer, lives an irregular life, unlike most workers – 24 hours on duty followed by 24 hours off.

I’m grateful for the days we can spend together all day, but that means we also have days when we can’t see each other at all.

It’s been a year since Ivan started his Moscow assignment, but the thought of being apart for 24 hours straight still makes me lonely.

But this is the trial God has given us.

He’s testing whether our love remains true even when we’re separated.

 

“Okay, I’m off, Sophia.”

 

Whenever Ivan leaves, we always kiss goodbye.

Of course, in Russia, kisses can serve as greetings, but this isn’t the kind friends or family share. This is the proper kiss lovers exchange, one we’ve maintained faithfully since our wedding day.

People often say that couples grow tired of each other after years of marriage, but I don’t understand that feeling.

When you truly love someone, you want to kiss them at any moment, don’t you?

 

“Please look after the house while I’m away.”

 

“Yes, I will.”

 

This cramped apartment we moved into when we got married is our home.

Nights without Ivan make me anxious, but when he’s not here, I have to protect this house.

 

“Let’s start cleaning.”

 

I can’t stay lonely forever just because Ivan’s gone. A full-time housewife has mountains of work, and my job is to keep the house clean so Ivan will think, “I love this home,” when he comes back.

 

“Today, I’ll clean the windows too.”

 

After vacuuming and mopping the floor, I decided to clean the windows, which have been bothering me lately because they have been dirty.

Sunlight streaming through clean glass is undoubtedly more beautiful than light passing through dirty windows.

 

“Ah!”

 

But when I place the bucket by the window, I make a terrible mistake. I hook my arm through the bucket’s handle and somehow tip it over.

Desperately reaching out, I narrowly avoid letting the entire bucket fall.

However, the water that spills from it cascades through the fifth-floor window onto the street below.

 

“Oh no! What have I done?!”

 

To make matters worse, a pedestrian happens to be standing exactly where the water lands.

The black-haired man, suddenly drenched from above, stands frozen in place, utterly bewildered by the sudden deluge.

 

“Are you alright?!”

 

When I lean out the window and shout, the disoriented man turns to look my way.

He’s slightly shorter than Ivan, with an unassuming Asian appearance.

That was how I met Daisuke.

 

◆　◇　◆

 

“I’m truly sorry…”

I invited the thoroughly drenched man into my home.

After finding a towel, I tried to remove his shirt to wipe him down, but he protested.

 

“Ji… jibun de yarimasu kara…” (I… I’ll do it myself…)

 

He spoke words we Russians couldn’t understand, then began wiping his head with the towel himself.

I had soaked him to the bone. By all rights, drying him should have been my duty, yet he stubbornly refused to let me touch him.

In that moment, I saw his integrity shining through.

When I thought about it, I was a married woman and he was a man. Perhaps he’d been hesitant from the moment I invited him inside, and I might have been a little careless.

But…

 

“It’s alright. This too must be part of God’s guidance.”

 

As someone who values neighborly affection, I snatch a towel and begin wiping his head.

No matter the situation, I’m the one who drenched him completely. And my intuition told me that he wouldn’t do anything wrong.

 

“Excuse me.”

 

“A…”

 

Once I’ve mostly dried his hair, I start removing his shirt.

His body is more muscular than I expected. While not as toned as Ivan, the police officer, it still feels distinctly male.

Though slightly embarrassed, I consider this another trial from God and carefully wipe his entire body.

 

(What is this feeling?)

 

By the time I finish cleaning his upper body, a strange emotion has taken root within me.

I felt excited, and my mind was foggy.

All that remains is to lower his pants and clean his lower body.

It’s such a simple task, yet somehow, as a married woman, I feel I shouldn’t be doing this.

He was the victim. I was the perpetrator.

So, lowering his trousers was a mission given to me.

 

“Why?”

 

But when I saw what was inside his trousers, I was stunned.

The “thing” in his underwear had clearly grown larger.

I was just wiping his body.

I hadn’t done anything remotely erotic.

 

(I… Why did I do this…?)

 

His “thing” was clearly more robust than Ivan’s, and half of its differently shaped tip was peeking out from the window of his underwear, unlike Ivan’s.

At that moment, I finally realized the gravity of my actions.

A married woman lowering a stranger’s trousers.

The abnormality of this act finally struck me with belated horror.

Such a thing was something I’d never normally do, yet before lowering his trousers, I’d even thought hesitating over it was absurd.

It was as if some unseen force had guided me.

As if God himself had directed me to do this—

 

“Go, gomen nasai…” (I’m sorry…)

 

His words were incomprehensible. But his apologetic demeanor made it clear they were words of apology.

He, too, was a victim of this situation.

Just walking down the road, he’d been splashed with water, had his body wiped against his will, and been made to expose his most shameful parts.

I, too, had been led into this situation by a “will” that would have been unthinkable to my normal self.

More than anything, there had been a voice in my head all along, ordering me to subdue his thing.

 

(God… Is that you?)

 

After twenty-six years of believing in God, this was the first time I had ever experienced something like this.

If this was the revelation given to me…

If confronting his lower body was something necessary for my life…

I could only obey the voice in my head.

 

“I… I’m Sophia. Excuse me, but what’s your name?”

 

It’s belated, but I introduce myself to him.

I knew we wouldn’t understand each other, but instead of broken English, I introduced myself in Russian.

If this truly is divine revelation, I thought he’d transcend language barriers.

If this situation were created by something beyond human, details like where he’s from or what language he speaks become trivial.

 

“Daisuke.”

 

As if our previous communication barrier never existed, he answers with his name.

There’s no evidence this is his name, but I’m utterly convinced Daisuke is his name.

That’s proof of God’s guidance.

 

“…God. Please grant me permission to take his p3nis in my mouth.”

 

I make the sign of the cross, pray to God, and reach out to touch the p3nis protruding from his pant.

It’s hot.

That was my first impression.

It was hotter than Ivan’s, and thicker too.

The shape of the tip was different, probably because the foreskin had been pulled back.

I only knew Ivan’s before, but I learned there are two types of male genitalia – those with foreskin and those without. Some men have their foreskin peeled back, revealing a ridge-like structure like this man’s.

 

(Oh God…)

 

Praying to God again, I took his heavy p3nis into my mouth.

In an instant, my mouth was filled with his p3nis.

It was completely different from Ivan’s. The heat, the weight, everything – but most of all, the hardness. This concrete-like shaft filled my nostrils with a masculine scent.

Every time my lips caught on his protruding ridge, I felt a strange warmth spreading through my abdomen.

 

(Why… won’t he cum…?)

 

Fifteen minutes had passed since I began my oral service.

Yet still he showed no signs of climaxing.

Ivan usually lasted less than five minutes, but this man’s member remained unyielding even in my mouth.

 

(At this rate, my jaw will give out…)

 

My jaw was already strained from maintaining the thick shaft in my mouth. The masculine “smell” emanating from him was gradually clouding my mind.

My mission was to make him cum and subdue his p3nis. In this situation, I had no choice but to…

 

“Ah…”

 

Though it felt obscene, I discarded my dress and removed my bra in front of him.

I was exposing my chest to a man who wasn’t even my husband.

Though I knew it was inherently immoral, my mouth and hands alone were no longer enough.

Looking at my exposed br3asts, Daisuke let out a cry of admiration.

It wasn’t just me—Russian women tend to have larger chests compared to those from other countries.

While I considered myself quite ample by Russian standards, this was my first time being praised for my chest by anyone besides Ivan.

 

“…Excuse me.”

 

Knowing that it was rude, I let him hold his p3nis between my br3asts.

In an instant, I was amazed at how hard his p3nis was. Ivan’s p3nis is buried in my br3ast, but even with his curved p3nis sandwiched between my br3asts, the pointed tip still pokes right in front of my eyes.

So hot.

How could a p3nis be so hot?

I’m just holding it between my br3asts, yet why does it feel like my chest’s core is burning?

 

(Ah…)

 

As I served his sturdy p3nis, I became intoxicated by the sensation of its rigidness.

I was merely moving my chest up and down to make him cum, yet I couldn’t tear myself away from his long shaft, as if feeling his heat and hardness was my true purpose.

 

(What a smell…)

 

From his tip came the musky odor of a strong male.

Ivan’s never smelled like this.

Other men’s odors are just unpleasant, so why do I want to be exposed to this smell forever?

Between oral service and chest service, we’d been at it for about twenty minutes.

If it were Ivan, he would’ve already come by now, but this guy’s only pulsing occasionally without any sign of climaxing.

Maybe I really will have to offer him the most precious part of my body.

Though I knew it was wrong, the question kept swirling in my mind: If this happens, what will become of me?

Never in my life had I been penetrated by such a massive p3nis.

 

(Please, hurry up and cum–)

 

I prayed desperately, I serve his p3nis with my heart and soul with my chest.

Yet even as I wished for release, a part of me—perhaps a small percentage—hoped he might never cum at all.

And then—

 

“Ahh—!!”

 

A torrent of semen erupted from the tip of his formidable p3nis, not merely flowing but violently shooting forth.

The semen became a bullet, instantly coating my chest, face, and hair in a thick layer of white fluid.

 

(It’s hot… and what a smell it is–)

 

It dwarfed the stench of the p3nis itself.

A smell overwhelmingly surpassing anything before it drenches my entire body.

Though I belong to Ivan’s, his climax carries such an overwhelming presence, it threatens to overwrite my ownership entirely.

When I smell this, my head starts to spin.

The sight of his incredibly powerful p3nis before me is overwhelming my mind.

His semen feels like it’s clinging to my whole body, but for some reason it feels strangely cool and refreshing, and I don’t feel any discomfort.

Instead, part of me craves more from his tip, and I blush at this lewd anticipation.

 

“Are you… satisfied now?”

 

In my hazy consciousness, I ask with a blushing face.

My duty is to calm his p3nis, which has grown large because of me.

I have fulfilled that role. I shouldn’t have to bear anything more than that.

 

(Why… is it still so powerful?)

 

I can’t tear my eyes away from the p3nis that shows no sign of weakening even after ejaculating. Ivan needs a break after one release, but can Asian men keep going indefinitely?

My duty is done.

Yet even though it should be over, I feel I can’t let him leave until I’ve calmed his member.

 

(God… is this the real test?)

 

The reason Daisuke’s p3nis is still strong is because I haven’t overcome my test yet. I gradually began to think so.

A man with a p3nis that would make any woman stare in awe.

God had introduced me to this man as a test. That is…

 

(Am I being tested to prove my love for Ivan remains unchanged even when connected to this man?)

 

I had a vague feeling that this was the case.

There is a very low probability that someone would happen to be in the same place as I had just tipped the bucket.

Yet here I was, welcoming an Asian man into my home—a man whose language I couldn’t even understand properly. And now he was standing before me, his p3nis swelling to an impressive size. What kind of coincidence is that?

As if to confirm my suspicions, I found myself compelled to serve his erection, my entire body soon bathed in another man’s semen.

Normally that would be the end of it, but a p3nis that didn’t weaken at all – what else could that be but the work of God?

 

“Sofiya…”

 

Just as I’d anticipated, Daisuke made me stand facing away from him and tore off my remaining pair of panties.

Киска(female genitalia).

The absolute forbidden area—a part of me that should never be exposed to any man except Ivan.

Under his intense gaze, I found myself helpless as he pressed his erect p3nis against my entrance.

 

(Ahh…what a shape–)

 

Just by tracing the entrance, I could tell that it was completely different from Ivan’s.

The length, hardness, and the prominent ridges—this virility seemed to belong to an entirely different species of man.

Though certain this intrusion would destroy me, I couldn’t bring myself to resist.

And then—

 

“Ah… Ahh—”

 

His formidable glans began invading me, millimeter by millimeter. A pace so gradual it should have been imperceptible, yet the pressure felt like a fist forcing open my walls.

 

(God—)

 

I make the sign of the cross while he inserts half of his glans into me.

Please forgive me for accepting this man’s p3nis.

Please forgive me for not being ashamed.

If this is your trial, I will endure it willingly.

I am about to have s3x with a man other than Ivan, with a man other than my beloved husband.

 

“Ahhngh—!”

 

My mind goes blank as he thrusts his powerful thing all the way into me.

Did I just… cum?

But he’s only inserted his p3nis,

His hips haven’t moved even once,

And I came just from him kissing my cervix?

And it wasn’t just a light orgasm.

It was an orgasm comparable to the special orgasms I experience at the climax of s3x with Ivan several times a year.

No, it’s not just comparable.

This surpasses the most pleasurable moment we’ve ever shared.

It’s on another level entirely.

By the time I realize this, s3x with Daisuke has already begun.

 

“Ahh…!! It’s big!!”

 

His strong p3nis thrusts effortlessly into the deepest depths of me. Where Ivan could barely reach, his p3nis easily thrusts into a woman’s weak spot with ease.

And size isn’t the only factor.

This otherworldly rigid c0ck is redefining my understanding of s3x itself.

The impact feels like being impaled by a stone rod.

Yet its perfectly curved shape rubs against my most sensitive areas with deliberate focus, like a fated lover tracing my destiny.

 

“Ahh! The glans, it’s amazing!!”

 

Every time the part that I’m sure is commonly called the glans scratched the wall of my v4g1na, an incredible amount of pleasure ran through my brain.

It’s completely different from Ivan, who wears his skin from the start. This new sensation paints my whole body with pleasure.

 

“Ahh! God!”

 

I scream God’s name, but the voice that comes out is incredibly seductive.

It’s a voice I never used during s3x with Ivan – sweet and defeated, like a whimper.

With each thrust from him, my hips sway violently, my br3asts bouncing in sync.

My chest slams against my abdomen, creating dry, hollow slapping sounds.

When I was with Ivan, we never made these noises. Now, bestial sounds of passion echo through our love nest.

 

(God. Are you asking me to endure this pleasure?)

 

Every time Daisuke’s sturdy c0ck thrusts deep inside me, Ivan’s voice and face fade from my mind.

What did Ivan say when he left this morning? Did we have the usual kiss?

What time did you say you’d be back the day after tomorrow?

I can’t remember anything now.

With each penetration from Daisuke’s c0ck, I can only think of him.

 

“Ahh! Daisuke! Daisuke!”

 

Finally, I began screaming Daisuke’s name as if he were my lover.

The relentless pistoning continued without pause, erasing every memory of Ivan and me.

When I first had s3x with Ivan, I was truly happy. But now, I can’t even remember that moment.

With this masculine c0ck pounding me, I can’t think about anything else.

 

“Ahh! I’m cumming! I’m cumming from this big c0ck!”

 

For the first time, I screamed orgasm from a man’s c0ck other than my husband’s.

My mind went completely blank.

It was a hundred times better than Ivan.

Cumming from a real man’s c0ck was unbelievably good.

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming from a c0ck that isn’t Ivan’s!”

There was no hiding it. If I were going to cum, I would cum. If it felt good, it felt good.

With s3x that was exponentially more masculine than Ivan’s, I cum easily.

It wasn’t an exaggeration – the pleasure was so intense I nearly lost consciousness.

I was reminded that my s3x with Ivan had been nothing more than superficial.

When a truly exceptional male takes you, this is how good it can feel.

As this realization struck me, I shuddered to find myself nearly forgetting Ivan’s name—the name of the man I loved.

 

(Is this… God’s trial…?)

 

My s3x with Daisuke had begun as if guided by some unseen force.

He was the god of s3x sent by God to test my love for… Ivan, no, Ivan.

 

(Perhaps Daisuke himself is truly God.)

 

Otherwise, there’s no explanation for this impossibly pleasurable s3x.

My love is 100% for Ivan, so there’s no way I could feel this good.

I’ll probably be fucked even more in the future.

With a sturdier p3nis than Ivan’s, he’ll make me feel even better.

All I can do in that moment is not forget my lover’s name.

No matter what, I won’t forget my love for Ivan.

What I could do for that purpose—

 

“Ahh! Ivan! Ivan! Ivan!”

 

While having s3x with Daisuke, I screamed Ivan’s name over and over.

Still, every time his sturdy p3nis thrust deep inside me, its glans tearing at my folds, I nearly forgot even that name.

Worse yet, I almost began to believe that the man I loved was Daisuke, not Ivan.

This was the trial God had bestowed upon me.

To spend the night making love to Daisuke without forgetting my love for Ivan.

This was the sacred ritual meant to achieve that.

 

“AH!! SOFIYA!!”

 

With each thrust of his sturdy p3nis and every time he called my name, I nearly screamed “Daisuke” instead.

But that was absolutely forbidden.

If I called Daisuke’s name here, I’d never be able to forget him.

I’d truly fall in love with this man possessing such a sturdy p3nis.

That was the one thing I absolutely couldn’t allow.

No matter how desperately I wanted to scream how much I loved him, I knew that would be absolutely forbidden—

 

“Aah! Ivan! Ivan!”

 

I frantically screamed the name of the man I loved.

Even when connected to another man’s p3nis.

Even when I knew this person’s s3x was far more pleasurable than Ivan’s, I desperately kept shouting his name.

 

“AH!! SOFIYA SOFIYA!!”

 

But Daisuke still didn’t slow down his s3x. To me who’d only known simple s3x with Ivan, he relentlessly pounded the pleasures of women into me alongside his sturdy c0ck.

 

“Aah! This c0ck is so good! It’s completely different from Ivan’s!”

 

Finally, I’d screamed something other than Ivan’s name.

No. If this continued, I’d truly forget Ivan’s name.

Whatever else I screamed, I had to absolutely include Ivan’s name.

In my fading consciousness, I thought this. I desperately endured Daisuke’s s3x, clinging to the desperate hope of not forgetting Ivan’s name.

 

“Ahh! It’s even better than Ivan’s! Completely different from Ivan’s s3x! My Russian pvssy’s being invaded by an Asian’s thick c0ck!”

 

By now, I can’t even tell what I’m screaming anymore.

The echoes of “Ivan” I keep interjecting are the only thing carving themselves into my mind.

 

“Ahh! Asian s3x is incredible! Asian cocks are incredible! Nothing like Ivan’s crude s3x!”

 

As Daisuke thrusts into me from behind, I cum over and over.

I climax so many times I can’t tell up from down.

But I’m grateful our s3x is always faceless.

If we’d been looking each other in the eye, I’d have fallen for him without a doubt.

I’d have loved this man who gives me such pleasure down to my core.

 

“SOFIYA-SAN!”

 

Daisuke roars my name.

I thought he was probably close to ejaculating, but I didn’t have the energy to resist.

There was no way to fight against this p3nis.

What would happen if that masculine release were to directly fill my womb? That was the only thought occupying my mind.

 

“Ahh! Give it to me! Daisuke’s cum—fill me with it! Ahh!”

 

In that instant, a torrential ejaculation—far surpassing any previous release—assailed my uterus.

It must have been several times Ivan’s volume. Without hesitation, that massive quantity of semen flooded into my womb.

 

“Aaaaaah—♡♡”

 

An overwhelming shock.

Simultaneously, an equally overwhelming pleasure.

This transcended mere mental blankness. After reaching that peak where it felt like only my soul remained in the universe, my body convulsed violently, leaving me utterly disoriented.

 

(Did he… ejaculate…?)

 

It took a moment for this realization to sink in.

Even longer before I grasped the implications—that this act carried the risk of pregnancy.

It took me even longer to realize that I wasn’t feeling any disgust at all.

But what was more important was that I’d screamed Daisuke’s name during s3x again.

And at the same time, I hadn’t screamed the name of the person I was supposed to love.

 

(I…)

 

In that moment, I realized I couldn’t remember my husband’s name.

Sergei?

Mikhail?

Had I really been married in the first place?

And why was I having s3x with him?

Wasn’t I supposed to have met him today for the first time?

As my mind spiraled into chaos, Daisuke’s p3nis remained stubbornly erect. In this maelstrom of confusion, it burned itself into my consciousness as the only solid presence.

 

“Oh! This is amazing!”

 

And just as naturally as breathing, I found myself experiencing my first sexual encounter with him.

With him, a man whose language I didn’t understand, yet in a way that made words seem utterly unnecessary.

Maybe he’s my lover.

The moment I thought this, I could think of nothing else but him.

 

“Ohh! Daisuke! Daisuke!”

 

So I screamed his name all night long.

To make sure I never forgot the name of the one I loved.

I carved it into my womb and memory alongside his impossibly thick c0ck.

 

“Ohhh! Daisuke’s d1ck feels so good!! I only want to have s3x with this d1ck!!”

 

I wrapped myself around his body, kissing him over and over.

The kind of deep, passionate kisses only lovers share.

Even his kisses were genius, melting every part of my body.

 

“Again! Make me pregnant with your cum, Daisuke!”

 

I lost count of how many times I came that night.

He filled me over a dozen times, each time marking my womb with his stench, until I developed an extraordinary love for his c0ck.

I’d served him with my mouth a dozen times.

Massaged his scrotum five times.

Though embarrassed, I’d inserted my tongue into his anus and licked it three times.

The number of times I’d kissed him face-to-face and whispered “Я люблю тебя (I love you)” was already beyond counting.

So we had s3x again and again, he came inside me repeatedly, and that supreme pleasure was carved into me over and over—until suddenly, it was morning.

 

“What… am I doing?”

 

Awakening in the marital bed, I was utterly bewildered.

Seeing the ring glinting on my left ring finger, I remembered Ivan.

I was Ivan’s wife, not his.

Yet why did I feel so utterly safe in his arms?

 

“I… must have failed the trial.”

 

Through hazy memories, I recalled last night’s actions.

I’d completely forgotten about Ivan, becoming utterly absorbed in my s3x with Daisuke.

 

“I’m sorry, Ivan. I’m sorry, God.”

 

Sighing, I sat up on the bed.

When I peeled off the sheets, Daisuke’s flaccid p3nis was revealed.

Even when soft, it felt completely different from Ivan’s.

Since I’d only ever known Ivan before, I hadn’t realized other men’s s3x could feel like this.

 

“Truly, it was God’s p3nis.”

 

Remembering last night’s intense s3x, my crotch grew hot again.

I was in awe of such a divine p3nis that I told myself that it was inevitable that I would be violated by it.

Then…

 

“Ivan, don’t look.”

 

Turning over the photo of Ivan and me on the dresser, I returned to the bed once more.

Then I knelt before his lower body, offering prayers to a divine image as I murmured.

 

“Thank you for yesterday.”

 

I kissed his still-tame p3nis with gentle devotion.

Even I couldn’t explain why I’d done such a thing.

But his p3nis possessed a charm that could make a woman act this way.

Perhaps only those who’ve slept with him would understand.

After showering, I prepared breakfast.

Though Ivan wouldn’t return until nightfall, I made enough for two, including Daisuke’s portion.

Having spent ages drying Daisuke’s clothes from yesterday’s failed washing attempt, I finally finished just as he emerged from the bedroom.

 

“I… I’m sorry…”

 

Daisuke offered his apology in broken English, his face etched with remorse.

Perhaps he feels guilty about sleeping with a married woman. I can’t believe the same man who had such vigorous s3x could be the one sitting here now.

Seriously, even if you don’t wear underwear, could you at least not come to the living room with that thing swinging around?

If you’re showing me that, I’ll strip naked in front of you again.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Still, I desperately suppress those thoughts and welcome him to our family breakfast table.

Breakfast and a conversation where neither of us understands a word.

I suppose this is what life would be like if I’d married an Asian man, but I’m Ivan’s wife. There’s no future where I marry him.

 

“I realized something. My love for Ivan still isn’t enough. I need to work harder at it.”

 

In Russian, a language he doesn’t understand, I voice my thoughts about this situation.

If he was a messenger sent by God to test my love for Ivan, then I would have been defeated too easily.

Because I became completely absorbed in s3x with Daisuke, ultimately whispering words of love to him over and over.

For a while after waking up that morning, I truly felt utterly hopeless.

What face should I show Ivan? Would he still love me the same way after I’d loved someone else, even if just for one night?

But when I looked at his lower body lying on the bed, I resigned myself to the fact that it couldn’t have been helped.

After all, his s3x was truly incredible.

So pleasurable that I became convinced nothing in this world could compare to the feeling his p3nis gave me, allowing me to avoid unnecessary worries.

My faith still wasn’t strong enough.

My love for Ivan hadn’t fully matured.

But from now on, I just need to take my time and build it up gradually.

Life is still long, so I can’t afford to dwell on a single failure.

In five years, when my love for Ivan has fully matured, I’ll find him again and have s3x with him.

Well, honestly, I don’t think I’ll win even then, but I’ll just try again in another five years.

You can challenge life as many times as you want.

That’s what my grandfather, who was also a Russian Orthodox priest, taught me.

 

“Thank you.”

 

I thank the man who left the house for giving me the trial of s3x.

Really, I felt like I wanted to do it at least one more time, but that would be betraying Ivan, so I suppressed the feeling.

My husband is Ivan.

The person I love is Ivan.

Daisuke is the person who gave me the best s3x in my life. The person with the best p3nis.

That’s all it means—