My sex life with a lonely, beautiful young woman

page views:1 Publication date:2015-01-23

At the end of last year, it was snowing everywhere. In the midst of this cold weather, I went to Tianjin to attend a systematic training course. It was a three-month course, with two people from each province. In my province, it was me and a young woman; for convenience, I'll call her Lan. Lan had been married for several years but hadn't had children yet. The body of a woman with sexual experience but no children exuded a mature, rich fragrance.
Lan and I were from the same province, so it was natural that we ate and went to class together. We even sat in the same row during lectures. It was a large classroom. We sat in the last row. Because there were computer classes, there were two computers on each desk in each row, naturally separating the people in front and behind. Because the distance was so great, if we leaned over the desk, even the teacher on the podium wouldn't see what we were doing. Lan and I often whispered to each other.
The first week was for everyone to get to know each other, receive new books, and form several study groups. Because we were in a new environment, everyone was excited, and there was also some inexplicable impulse and curiosity. Besides studying, it seemed everyone wanted something to happen during these three months.
Finally, let me introduce myself: I'm an older man. Now, let me begin the story of this winter.
I initially thought three months would be a relaxing time, maybe even with some travel. But the course schedule was surprisingly tight. There were Marxist-Leninist classes, computer classes, professional courses, audio-visual education classes, and literature classes. Everyone loved literature class the most. The teacher basically just read from the textbook, assigning homework based on the textbook's review questions, and the textbook even had answer hints. The most interesting thing was that the literature teacher, surnamed Huang, had a very strong regional accent. In any case, during his two-hour classes, if I wasn't looking at the book, I basically couldn't understand a single word. So, each literature class was like a relaxing break. Skipping class was out of the question; we were all organized people, and nobody wanted a stain on their academic record. If it got back to their workplace, they'd be in deep trouble.
The first time we had a literature class, everyone was very curious. After all, we'd been working for years, and our studies were usually limited to politics and our professional fields. But once Teacher Huang started speaking, everyone listened patiently at first, but by the second half, some were dozing off, some were talking, and some were reading novels. I couldn't understand a word, so I wanted to see Lan's reaction. I looked up at her, and she looked at me too. We exchanged a knowing smile.
Since we had nothing to do, we found something to do. Lan and I weren't very familiar with each other, so I wrote on a piece of white paper, handed it to her, and she replied before passing it back to me. We acted outwardly calmly, but secretly kept passing notes. I'd done this before when we were in school; I never thought it would come in handy now. Our initial exchanges were simple. "I'm sleepy." "Me too, I don't understand." "What do you girls do at night?" "Chat, play cards. It's so boring. What about you?" "We too. We also exchange information about salaries and bonuses at different companies."
Around the second week, our conversation went something like this: "Looking around, you're the prettiest in the class." "Nonsense, I'm the oldest." "The others are all old ladies." Her face flushed slightly, and she had drawn a crooked smiley face on the note she handed me. A little girl, her lips curving into a smile.
In winter, the indoor heating made it unbearably hot. Outside, it was unusually cold. I'm not used to the heating. It always feels dry, and I'm constantly drinking water. The automatic water dispenser is in the corner behind us. I always run to get water. The desks and chairs are all fixed, making it difficult to get up, especially during class, as I can't move too much. So, when I get up, my body often bumps into Lan's hand. Once, I even knocked her pencil away, and I quickly apologized. But her hand didn't pull back. After that, I would deliberately bump into her, regardless of whether it would actually happen.
We continued passing notes in literature class, and it gradually spread to other classes. The words on the notes became increasingly ambiguous. "What are you daydreaming about? Missing your husband, huh?" "No way." "You're missing Teacher Liu." Teacher Liu teaches computer class; he's very handsome, and we often tease him behind his back. "Missing you. Ugh." "I'm right next to you, what are you thinking about?" The note was passed, and she reached out to take it. I didn't pull my hand back; instead, I pressed down on hers. She tried to pull back, but I held on tightly. After struggling for a while, she stopped moving. Another note was passed to me. "Someone saw this. Stop fooling around." "Then put your hand under the table." I let go of her hand, and she took hers away too. At first, she ignored me, but after a while, whether intentionally or unintentionally, she actually put her hand down.

I nervously looked around; everyone next to me was asleep at their desks. So, I mustered my courage and put my hand down too, pretending to relax and stretch out my body, reaching out to touch hers. She didn't flinch. So I held her hand. When I held it, I felt her hand was so warm, as if it were sweating. It was so soft; the moment I touched it, I felt an electric shock. She seemed a little excited too. I felt her body trembling slightly. At first, I held it still, but then I gently traced lines in her palm with my fingers, and she bent her fingers to brush against my palm. It felt so good.

I became the most proactive and motivated student in the class. That's what our homeroom teacher, Mr. Shen, said. Because no matter the weather, no matter the time of day, I was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. With something on my mind, I quickly became immersed in it. But Lan seemed completely unaffected. She came and went as she pleased, without lingering. She also seemed indifferent to my feelings, even though our hands were often clasped together in class.
Soon, I grew tired of the simple pleasure of holding hands, and opportunity struck. Since the training course had virtually no evening activities, the students suggested studying in the classroom. Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Shen, said, "You want to go to an internet cafe?" The whole class laughed in unison. The computers in this computer lab were originally capable of internet access, but the server in the computer lab needed a different interface. Mr. Shen said, "I'll talk to them for you." Three months had been a bit boring. The next evening, the classroom became a giant internet cafe.
When Lan came in, she didn't turn on the computer but went straight to me to watch me use the internet. It turned out she had never been online before. She had just showered, and her hair had a faint fragrance. This was the first time we sat together at night, and the dim light made it easier to feel dreamy. Our hands naturally intertwined in the darkness.
Because it was night, and because there weren't many people in the classroom, the space next to us was empty. My courage grew, and I casually released my hand, opening my palm and gently placing it on her thigh. She pretended not to notice and placed her hand back on mine. Even through her clothes, I could feel her warmth and flesh. My palm moved slowly like an ant, caressing her back and forth. The softness, combined with her scent, her tense breathing, and her pounding heart, was incredibly arousing. I really wanted to turn around and kiss her, but given the environment and our relationship, I didn't dare. My biggest fear was that she wouldn't accept it and we'd become enemies. So close, so irresistible, so within reach, yet so unattainable. This feeling made my heart boil with conflict.

As lights out approached, fewer and fewer people remained in the classroom. I knew that tonight's pleasurable time was drawing to a close. Truly emboldened, suddenly, with a slight exertion, my hand slid down to her inner thigh. Before she could react, I went straight for her crotch. She tried to stop me, but could only press her hand against mine, struggling to move it away—of course, it was futile.
To be honest, through her clothes, it wasn't much more pleasurable than my thighs. However, the satisfaction of invading a woman's private territory, and her lack of strong resistance—or rather, her feigned resistance while actually accepting it—gave me immense satisfaction.
So, even through her clothes, imagining its softness and wetness, its warmth and longing, the pleasure and sensation, made my hand linger.
The next day, Lan seemed unhappy, not even glancing at me properly after entering the classroom. I was terrified, afraid she was angry because I had touched her there the day before. So I went back to my old ways and started passing her notes again. I wrote on the note: "I'm sorry." She didn't reply for a long time after reading it. My heart was in my throat; I thought I was doomed.
After a long while, she handed me the note, which read: "Why did you do that to me?" Ugh. She really was angry about that. I replied: "I couldn't control myself, I couldn't help it." She took the note, glanced at it, chuckled, and immediately looked towards the podium. Luckily, the teacher didn't notice. She handed me the note: "Never do that again!!!" I replied: "Yes, ma'am, but you have to hold my hand." She replied: "We'll see how you behave." My heart immediately felt as sweet as if I'd eaten honey; I knew she wouldn't be angry with me anymore. After a while, I pretended to accidentally touch her hand again. After some dodging and chasing, our hands were intertwined again.

For the next few nights, we spent every evening online in the classroom. She gradually went from being a complete novice to becoming an internet addict. She wasn't interested in news or sports, so I let her go to some forums and read romance novels and stories. Among them were posts about infidelity, which often made her blush. Thinking back, there had been no progress between us for a long time. That night, I finally couldn't resist and started plotting again.
Opportunity always favors the prepared, or rather, those with cunning schemes. Hehe, another opportunity came. Lan wanted to watch a movie, but she couldn't because she didn't have the software installed. She didn't know how to download and install it, so I had no choice but to help her. She sat in her chair, and I stood up, reaching to her right, holding the mouse, and gesturing on the screen. The classroom was heated, and students usually took off their coats after entering, wearing only sweaters or cardigans. Lan was wearing a bright red sweater, and I joked that she looked like a new bride. She rolled her eyes at me. But when my hand reached out, although my body was a little distance away from her, my arm moved just enough to touch her breasts—soft and firm. She didn't move away from me because of this; instead, she pretended to get a better look at the computer screen and moved even closer, almost touching my arm. When I didn't move the mouse, my arm and her breasts were pressed together. With every movement, I felt the soft touch.
I finally got the software installed. I looked for a movie to watch, but the internet was slow and kept buffering. She lost interest in watching the movie. A long time ago, she said, "Never mind, I'm going to sleep." Of course, I didn't want her to leave, so I asked, "Tomorrow's the weekend. Why are you going to sleep so early?" She said, "Why not?" After a while, she said again, "How about you walk with me?"
Suddenly, I remembered a joke. A rather pedantic student finally mustered the courage to hand a note to the girl he had a crush on for a long time, saying he wanted to get to know her. The girl didn't say a word, packed up her books, and prepared to leave. Before leaving, she turned back to this pedantic student and said, "Will you walk with me?" The pedantic student said, "You go first, I still have a few pages to finish reading." Haha. Of course, I wouldn't miss this opportunity. I quickly packed up—there wasn't much to pack, just shut down the computer—and then we left the classroom one after the other.
The northern night was truly cold. We shivered in the wind. We walked along the street behind the training building. There was a residential area there. The alley was lined with small trees. The night was quiet, the moon a pale yellow, and stars twinkled. Such a night wasn't suitable for romance.

Without realizing it, I took her hand; it was icy cold, but it felt warm. The streets were deserted. Only a few vendors selling hot pot and lamb skewers were scattered around the alley entrance. No one recognized us, and we chatted happily, mainly about the cold weather and the boredom of school life. We even bought a few lamb skewers from a stall. The vendor strongly recommended lamb kidneys, saying they were very nutritious. Lan and I exchanged a smile.
After eating, we really felt less cold. Because we weren't familiar with the area, we didn't dare walk too far. At a point where there seemed to be no way forward, Lan said, "Let's turn back." She turned to look at me, and I looked back at her, boldly taking her other hand, our hands clasped together. Our upper bodies kept a distance, our thick clothes tentatively drawing closer. Suddenly, I pulled hard, and she fell into my arms.
There was no struggle. No words were spoken. There was no sound around us. Through her clothes, I felt her soft breasts pressed against my body. I released her hands and wrapped my arms around her waist. Our bodies pressed even closer. Lan rested her head on my shoulder, breathing heavily. I felt her warm breath and her pounding heart, which made my heart race.
Mustering my courage, I raised my head to find Lan's face and pressed my own against hers. It was cool, a gentle caress. Then I gently explored her nose, her forehead, her eyes, slowly rubbing my face against them. When I reached her lips, I suddenly stopped, searching for her ears, her neck hidden deep in her collar. Her body trembled slightly, and when my lips brushed against her neck, I could hear her let out a soft, long sigh: Ah. I seized the opportunity and kissed her. Her lips were closed. She flinched at first, then my lips captured hers. Because of the cold weather, her lips didn't feel much. So I stuck out my tongue, trying hard to pry open her mouth. I forced her lips open, but her teeth remained clenched, so I slowly pushed my tongue in. A crack appeared, revealing a touch of warmth from her tongue. I exerted myself even more. Suddenly, everything opened up, like the man from Wuling finding the Peach Blossom Spring. My tongue swam completely inside, finding her shy, hesitant tongue tip. First, our tongues tentatively explored each other, then a frenzied entanglement, devouring, sucking. We kissed each other's lips deeply. I kissed her neck deeply. At this moment, I truly couldn't control myself. I embraced her on both sides, my right hand pressing against her breasts. I vigorously kneaded them through her sweater. Ah. So full. Young woman, I'm crazy for you.
I held her hips tightly with my left hand, pressing my genitals close to hers, believing she could feel my hardness. In the constant biting and entanglement, my genitals were also rubbing against her body. Because I was away studying, I hadn't done it for a long time. Unexpectedly, in the midst of immense excitement, I experienced an uncontrollable contraction, like ejaculation. But I knew I hadn't ejaculated. When I came back, I found I was still wet, with fluid flowing out. As I pulled away, she abandoned my lips, hugged me tightly with both hands, and pressed her body close to mine. Suddenly, her whole body began to tremble. I didn't dare move. After a long while, her body suddenly relaxed from its tension. I gently kissed her lips, rubbing my lips against hers. She suddenly pushed me away and asked, "Why did you bully me?" I quickly replied, "I like you." "Go back, it's too late," she said. Back in the dorm, I received a message from her: "I don't know what's wrong with me today. I went crazy. Forget all of this, just pretend it never happened." Lying in bed, I didn't know if we still had a story. But only God knew. The real show had just begun.
For a long time afterward, there was no more intimacy between us. And neither of us mentioned what happened that night. We seemed to have returned to our relationship from when we first entered university, polite and reserved. Sometimes I would stare at her blankly, sometimes I would even wonder, in a daze, whether those intimate contacts had actually happened between us. Lan, however, wouldn't even look at me, her expression calm and composed. Finally, the first snow fell, and it was midterms. The training course gave everyone a week off to go home. That evening, Lao Shen wandered around the rooms, confirming everyone's train or plane tickets. I originally wanted to fly, but after asking my boss, he said I should take the train. It's only one night. It'll be over soon. That's what my boss said. There was no other way. I had to book a train ticket. When Lao Shen heard I booked a train ticket, he asked in surprise, "Lan is flying? Aren't you going together?" Because students from different provinces were encouraged to travel together. But I hadn't discussed it with her. I could only reply, "My company can only reimburse train tickets." Old Shen said, "Then you should discuss it with Lan. Don't leave her alone." I knocked on Lan's door; she was alone in her room. I said, "Why don't you take a plane? My company can only reimburse train tickets." Lan smiled slightly and said, "Then I'll book a train ticket too." I said okay. We went to find Old Shen together and asked him to change the train tickets. Old Shen left, and Lan stayed behind to discuss with me when to leave and what to bring. We wondered if we should buy some dry food and water. I said, "We'll be there in one night; do you think we're moving house?" She laughed. The next afternoon around 5 pm, we boarded the train heading south together. It wasn't the end of the year or a holiday, so the sleeper carriages were empty. There were fewer than 10 people in each carriage. There were a few people in the sleeper berths at the front and back of the train, and they all seemed to be together. There were only the two of us in the middle berths, both lower berths. I said, "How's it? More comfortable than flying, right? Even going to the toilet on a plane is a hassle. Here, I can lie down whenever I want." Lan quickly agreed. "I always thought trains were crowded, but I didn't realize they were practically vacuum-like." We bought two boxed meals on the train, along with two bottles of beer and some snacks. After eating, we slowly drank and ate. It got dark quickly. Outside, everything was blurry, and the fluorescent lights inside the carriage were glaring. We drank and chatted. Later, she got a little tipsy. She asked me, "Why haven't you contacted me since then?" I said, "I was afraid you'd be angry." She said, "You think I'm a bad woman, right?" I said no. I was genuinely afraid of hurting her again. Then I sat down in her berth and let her lean on me. She said, "When you're away from home, it really feels like you relax. There's a kind of indulgent feeling. I've realized I'm a bad woman." I said, "No. Everyone's the same. It's mainly because you're so lonely." She smiled and said, "So you don't like me? Just because you're lonely?" I quickly said, "If I didn't like you, I wouldn't look for you even if I was lonely." She chuckled, finished her last glass of wine, and collapsed onto the bed fully clothed. The train attendant never appeared again after exchanging the tickets. Perhaps it was because of the cold weather. Everyone was too lazy to move. However, the train had heating, and after a while, it started to feel hot. Lan was sleeping in her berth, and I sat there chatting with her. She said she felt hot, so she took off her coat, and then her red sweater. Her full breasts bounced for a moment before settling back down. Then she took off her pants. "I can't sleep without taking off my clothes," she said as she slipped under the covers. Through the blanket, I knew she was only wearing a thin set of underwear. I was already feeling a little aroused on this train. I tentatively reached for her hand. She didn't resist. She lay on the pillow, her hair a little messy. I smoothed it with my hand, then stroked her face, her ears, her eyes, and her nose. She lay quietly, motionless. I leaned down and kissed her. She kissed me back, then said, "Be careful, someone might see." I said, "They might think we're a couple." She laughed, boldly and proactively tilting her head back to kiss me. One kiss after another, like a chicken pecking at grains of rice. My emotions surged. I kissed her fiercely. My tongue slipped into her mouth, entwining and sucking. My hand slipped under the covers, finding her breasts precisely. I only lightly brushed them before lifting her bra, pushing it aside, and her full breasts sprang out, my large hand covering them. She lifted herself slightly and reached down to unhook her bra from below. My right hand, easily and without restraint, began to caress her breasts. First, I squeezed her nipple firmly, then gently rubbed it with my palm, followed by lightly flicking it with my fingertips and gently scraping around it with my nails. A moan immediately spread through her. "So good," she said. I released her breast, my hand slowly moving down to her thigh, stroking it through her clothes, pausing briefly in the middle before moving to her other thigh. After a few strokes, taking her by surprise, I slipped my hand under her elastic waistband, lifted her panties, and slid my hand towards her private area. She initially tried to resist, but then seemed to give up. Above, I kissed her neck and ears, making it hard for her to breathe. "Come in with me," she said, pulling me closer. The lights were still on. To be honest, I was still a little scared. No one would care if we slept together. But I gave up. I said, "Let's wait until the lights are off." She laughed, "Coward." My hand suddenly slipped down between her thighs, touching a raised mound of flesh, a layer of smooth hair, and then reaching her soft spot. I gently caressed her with my palm, feeling her lower body arch upwards as if in response. I slowly parted her genitals, pulling them apart slightly, then gliding my fingers lightly until the entire area was wet. Her lower body heaved even more violently. Her hips writhed continuously, and she made low, indistinct sounds. I didn't know what to do. To be honest, I had never used my hand on a woman before. And I didn't know if it was the same as sex. Suddenly, I heard her say, "I want it." My blood rushed to my head, and without thinking, I threw back the covers, lifted her bra, and took her breast into my mouth. She let out a loud "Ah!" which startled me. I stopped everything, quickly covered her with the covers, and listened to the sounds in the carriage. Several people were chatting in their dialects, some were putting children to sleep, everything was so peaceful. We smiled at each other. I whispered, "Don't be so loud." She said, "I didn't mean to." I said, "Do you usually moan during sex?" She punched me lightly. I grabbed her hand and guided it slowly downwards; she understood and moved it towards my genitals. She stroked me through my clothes. "It's so big," she said. "Do you like it?" "Yes, I want it right now." Her hand reached for my belt, but I stopped her. "No, let's wait until the lights are out."
She unzipped my pants and reached inside. I had been hard for a while. She grabbed it and squeezed it tightly. Then she felt it up and down, as if to gauge its size. Then she made a fist and awkwardly began to stroke it. I hadn't done it in a long time and was very sensitive. Knowing that I would soon be finished, I tried to stop her. She said, "Do you really want to ejaculate?" I said, "Yes. It's been a long time." She said, "Then let me help you come first." I looked at her suspiciously, taking in our surroundings. It seemed impossible. She said, "Come sit up a bit."
I had no choice but to take my hands out from under the covers and sit up a little. She said, "Sit here." She patted the pillow. I understood. I took off my shoes, turned sideways, and sat against her head. I was wearing her coat that she had taken off. If anyone saw me, as long as I didn't do anything, no one would know anything was going on. Her head was mostly buried under the covers, and under the cover of the coat, she took out my penis. She first fiddled with it for a bit, then put it to her nose and sniffed it. I was secretly glad that I had showered an hour before leaving the training class. There was definitely no odor. She raised her head, brought her small mouth to kiss me, and then stuck out her tongue to lick, drawing circles around the glans. She also licked the frenulum and the tip of the glans with her tongue. I thought I had met an expert, but when she swallowed the whole thing into her mouth, I still felt that she was not very skilled, and her teeth kept scraping against me. I whispered, "Don't use your teeth." She looked up and said, "No. I covered my teeth with my lips." I understood, but I couldn't explain it clearly to her right away. Women cover their teeth with their lips to avoid them getting scratched, but this involves using the outer side of the lips to contact the man, which still allows him to feel the hardness and stinging of the teeth. Actually, she should lift her lips, using the moist, soft inner side to hold the man, sliding gently and naturally—that's much more comfortable. After a while, I still couldn't bear it and said, "Forget it, it's hard to achieve that." She was tired too and gave up.

I slid down to lie next to her. She pulled the blanket up, draping part of it over me. We chatted. She said, "I'm not very good at this yet, I rarely do this." I said, "It's okay. I'm already very comfortable." Her hand slipped inside my clothes, pulling open my tight bra layer by layer, touching my body. Her small hand caressed my entire body, my waist, my abdomen, my chest, and then stroked my nipples incessantly. I kissed her eyes, her nose, her lips. This feeling was much more comfortable.
My right hand unconsciously went down again. It caressed her entire body, then went to her secret garden, which was already overflowing with desire. I kissed her ear, telling her, "So wet." Then my tongue slipped into her ear, gently licking it. Her body reacted even more intensely. Like a fish in deep water, swimming back and forth.
My left hand, because I had to use it to stabilize myself and prevent myself from falling off the narrow bed, felt constrained. I let her lie further down. She turned to the side, making room for me. I supported myself with my left elbow, and my left hand began to wander over her chest. My lips licked her ear and neck, my left hand touched her nipple, and my right hand gently stroked her genitals, finally settling on her vulva and slowly kneading. Soon, she bit her lip, her face contorted in pain, and then her body trembled with tension. I knew she had reached orgasm. Once she
climaxed, I couldn't continue stimulating her vulva, otherwise it would be uncomfortable. Her vulva was completely wet, lubricated like oil. It was easy for my fingers to slip inside; this was the first time I had ever used my hand to penetrate a woman. While exploring, I couldn't help but think about exploring the G-spot, which I had never understood before. The inner walls were smooth and swollen
, very elastic. My fingers rotated and explored inside. With a little pressure, I reached the bottom. I felt a knot at the bottom, pressed it, and she said that was probably the cervix. It probably wouldn't be comfortable. After several rotations and searches, I finally found a spot that was rougher than the inner walls. It wasn't big, about the size of a fingertip, but it had a textured feel; this must be the G-spot. I pressed it firmly, rotating and rubbing my finger around it. Suddenly, she looked up and sucked on my mouth. I continued pressing, and she thrust her tongue into my mouth, swirling it violently. Suddenly, she let out a cry and her whole body went limp. I was a little tired too, so I turned and lay on top of her, watching her slowly recover from the afterglow. This was the first time I'd lay on top of her, so soft and yielding, my genitals pressed against her through her clothes. Knowing full well, I asked, "Did you climax?" "Yes, three times," she said. I was surprised; I thought it was twice. I said, "Want more?" She said, "I'm afraid you'll get too tired." I said, "I'm not tired." I lowered my head to kiss her nipples, gently sucking and kissing them. My genitals pressed against hers, rubbing against her continuously.
She said, "Do you want to ejaculate?" I said, "No, I just want you to feel good." I didn't want to ejaculate like that. After rubbing for a while, she came again. Both of us were covered in sweat on the winter train.
I got up and went to the restroom at the front of the train to wash up and wipe away the sweat. I noticed in the mirror that although I hadn't reached orgasm, my skin was flushed. But did I really want to have that final, intense encounter with her? I returned to the carriage, and she got up too, fumbling for her shoes, and then went to the restroom as well. The other passengers had quieted down; some were already snoring. The train attendant's small cabin was empty; they must have gone to rest in the attendant's compartment. Outside the window was endless darkness. We sat on the lower berths, embracing each other, our faces pressed together, like two lovers deeply in love. She said, "Are you hungry?" I realized then that after all that, I was indeed a little hungry. I nodded. But there was no way to buy anything on the train now. She went to the luggage rack, took her travel bag, and found some biscuits, braised eggs, sausages, and peanuts. Even more interestingly, she also had several small bottles of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) in her bag. I was astonished; it turned out she was bringing them for her father. So, shamelessly, I asked for a bottle to drink. She occasionally took a sip, but couldn't stand the harshness of the alcohol, constantly exhaling and licking her lips. There was only one sausage left, which I gave to her. She peeled it, took a bite, and then brought her mouth to mine. I understood, so I leaned in, and the sausage passed from her mouth to mine. I kissed her passionately.
I found that we had become incredibly intimate and affectionate, the kind of intimacy only true lovers experience. We sat side by side, covered with blankets and coats. We shared food and drinks. Perhaps this was what sweetness felt like. Beautiful woman, fine wine, a wonderful night. The train rumbled forward. If only the night would never end, if only the train would never stop, if only the road had no end. How wonderful that would be. After finishing the wine, we washed up. In the meantime, the train lights went out; it was time to sleep. As we passed other people's beds, I made a point of looking over and found it was too dark to see anything. Lan took off her clothes in the darkness and crawled into bed. I took mine off too and snuggled up to her. I said to her, "Let's sleep together." She moved aside, and I slipped in as well. She turned to her side, and I naturally wrapped my arms around her, my hands moving up and down. Finally, I slowly pulled down her pants. Before I even got them down to her knees, she pulled them tight, preventing me from continuing. That was fine too. I pulled down my own pants, took them out, and groped my way in the dark. Her legs couldn't open, so I couldn't find a place. I said to her, "Help me."
She reached out and guided me, and finally, we got in. But it wouldn't go in, and it kept falling out. Helpless, I went to take off her pants. Her underwear and bra were together, and I pulled down one leg. That made it much easier. I was about to thrust in when she turned to me and said, "Aren't you afraid I'll get pregnant?" Yes, I immediately deflated. She'd never had a child before. If she got pregnant, it would be a real problem. I said, "I won't ejaculate inside." She said, "You could still get pregnant." What to do then? I was getting a little frustrated. She laughed and said, "Useless guy. You don't know anything. Take the emergency contraceptive pill tomorrow." I chuckled awkwardly and started working hard. I

entered from behind, sideways. It felt tight, and the penetration wasn't deep. I kept thrusting, and she cooperated fully, sometimes pushing against me with great force. She kept telling me not to stop. "So good, so good," she kept moaning. It was indeed very comfortable, but obviously, it seemed impossible for me to orgasm. I pulled her over and rolled onto her. This kind of entry made us both let out a long "ah." This missionary position, so old-fashioned, yet so practical. It penetrated very deeply, her wet private parts enveloping me, each thrust felt like sliding through a long, stimulating tunnel, bringing waves of pleasure to my lower body. She also thrust upwards forcefully each time, responding to me. My hand caressed her breasts, her mouth, she kissed my hand, and finally gently swallowed one of my fingers, moistened by saliva, and then slowly sucked it from top to bottom. Oh. Such a warm feeling.
That night. On the train. We made love for a while, then, afraid of being discovered, we separated into different berths to sleep. After a while, we snuggled together again. We didn't rest until dawn. I was afraid she would oversleep, so I let her sleep. When she woke up, we were almost at the provincial capital. After
leaving the train station, we found a pharmacy, bought emergency contraception, and drank it with the mineral water we had with us. My heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down. We had to part ways temporarily. I asked her, "How many orgasms have you had in total?" She said, "13 times." She added, "Maybe it's because I haven't done it in a long time, it was easy to reach orgasm." I never believed before that someone could have so many orgasms, and I didn't believe that someone could remember so many orgasms. I never thought it was all true. Women are capable of anything. It was time to go home. We agreed on a time to return to the training class together, and then said goodbye reluctantly.
Back at the training center, everyone was like long-lost friends, incredibly warm and welcoming. Perhaps sensing the bittersweetness of parting, they joked around without any reservations. I hugged almost all the female classmates I'd met on the first day. They almost all asked if Lan had arrived. I simply replied, "I don't know. I haven't contacted her."
As it was almost time to return to school, I called Lan, but no one answered. Later, she texted back, saying she wasn't going the same way as me. I didn't know why, and it wasn't convenient to ask. Dejected, I went back to school alone. Two days after school started, she returned. During class, I wrote her a note asking what was wrong. She replied, "I'm pregnant." I was momentarily stunned. Her expression was serious; it didn't seem like a joke. That evening, I called her and we walked together on the cold streets. I asked, "Are you really pregnant?" She countered, "If you really are pregnant, what do you think we should do?" I was speechless. This was a difficult question to answer. Of course, the answer was an abortion, but those words were colder than the winter night. "I knew you were a cowardly man, afraid of taking responsibility," she said, feigning anger. "If you're pregnant, then marry me," I said, pretending to be a man. "Come on, how will we face anyone after that?" she said. Yes. Our two families, broken up and then brought together, what would people say? Joy is happiness, but there are always some annoying things waiting to be dealt with. Walking in the deserted wind, I took her hand, she shook it off, I took it again, she shook it off again. I wrapped my arms around her, watching her struggle in my arms, and kissed her. Her head kept shaking, but finally I kissed her. She suddenly went crazy, kissing me back, holding me tightly with both arms. She kissed my lips, my eyes, my neck forcefully and deeply. Then she buried her face in my chest, sobbing softly.
I could only pat her back gently and ask her softly what was wrong. I comforted her, saying it was okay, everything could be resolved.
Finally, she said, "I just suspect I'm pregnant. I don't know yet. I have to wait another week to find out." I held her tightly. It was my carelessness that made her so worried. "If you really are pregnant, will you come with me to get an abortion?" she asked, looking up at me. I nodded firmly.
Lan asked, "Have you thought about me?" I said yes, almost every day. She laughed and said, "Me too. I thought of you when I was making love with my husband." After a while, she asked, "I don't know if I've fallen for you." I was a little flustered. Was it too heavy to talk about such a topic when we weren't making love? We all just wanted to find some pleasure in this mundane world, but our hearts had to endure torment.
"You just want to make love with me, right?" Lan asked. "No, I like you too," I stammered. "Silly, don't be afraid," she laughed. "I was just afraid of falling in love with you, so I didn't walk back with you. I also couldn't bear to leave my husband; I love him very much." When
we got to the dormitory, we parted ways so that others wouldn't see us, intending to go in one after the other. She said to me, "Can one person love two people at the same time?" I was silent. She added, "But I know I shouldn't have fallen in love with you." Then she turned and left.

After a week of anxious waiting, on a weekend morning, while I was still sleeping in, Lan called, her voice urgent and low, "It's really happening." I jumped out of bed. My roommate was still snoring. I quickly washed up and went to find her. She had just left the house; thankfully, everyone was asleep, and we didn't run into anyone. We rushed to the hospital that winter morning.
Northern winters are cold, and the obstetrics and gynecology department didn't open until after 9 a.m. We bought two jianbing (Chinese crepes) from a street vendor and ate them while anxiously waiting. Watching our long, cold breaths escape our lips, we felt like a couple who had weathered hardship together.
The hospital was nearly empty. She was a little scared. When the nurse let her in, I kissed her; I felt her body trembling slightly. Waiting outside, my feelings were complex. After a long while, I saw her emerge, her steps faltering. I helped her up and asked, "Does it hurt?" She said, "I had anesthesia, so it might hurt a little longer." She

couldn't go back to her dorm. Having an abortion is like postpartum confinement; you can't do strenuous exercise or touch cold water. But how were we going to get through these two days? We sat on a bench in the hospital, discussing it quietly. It was the weekend, so we decided she should ask Lao Shen for leave, saying a relative was visiting Tianjin and she needed to accompany them for two days, and she wouldn't be going back to stay the night. (We need to ask for leave to stay the night, especially the girls.) Hearing Lao Shen agree on the phone, we both smiled at each other. But my heart clenched again; I felt a pang of sadness.
We booked a room at a hotel near the hospital, helped her in, and laid her on the bed. By then, the anesthesia had worn off, and she was sweating profusely from the pain. I held her hand and gently stroked it.
According to our hometown custom, postpartum women eat chicken. I went to the hotel's restaurant and asked to order a portion of chicken for postpartum confinement. I happened to run into a woman who said, "Go buy the ingredients, we'll cook it for you, just for a processing fee." I happily ran back to tell Lan, adding that I was going to the market to buy chicken, ginger, and rice wine—things I'd bought for my wife when she gave birth. Lan said, "Luckily you know a lot; I don't know anything." I told her to get some sleep and not to wake up. Then I went out.
On my way back, I bought a bowl of pork liver noodle soup and a rice cooker. I opened the door and went into the room; Lan was still asleep. I sat beside her, looking at her pale face, and felt genuine regret and guilt. I had hurt her; she was a woman who had never given birth. I leaned down to kiss her cheek, and suddenly she hugged me tightly. Looking at her again, her eyes were open, filled with tears.
"xxx, I love you," she said. We hugged each other tightly.
To be honest, I didn't know where I had gone wrong. For a fleeting moment, holding Lan tightly, I felt a sense of pride and satisfaction at being a responsible man, but quickly I felt lost. What if the woman in my arms, someone else's, really falls in love with me?
I helped her up, reheated the noodles in the rice cooker, and gave them to her. The chicken soup wasn't coming over immediately, so after she finished eating, I let her go back to sleep. She said, "I can't sleep. Talk to me." I said okay, got into bed, and lay down next to her.

She reached out and stroked my face. "A man like you can make women lose their way," she said. I said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to seduce you." She laughed, "I just wanted to indulge myself this once." We didn't talk about our families or the future. In this warm room during the day, so close together, we couldn't control ourselves anymore. I kissed her, and she kissed me back. I slipped my hand under the covers, inside her bra, and stroked her breasts. She said, "This feels so good. It doesn't hurt so much anymore." I said, "Let me suckle her." She said, "No, it'll arouse my desire, and that'll be troublesome." She added, "The doctor said we can't have sex for 15 days." I chuckled foolishly.
We drifted off to sleep, only to be woken by a knock on the door. I opened it, and chicken soup had been brought in. I quickly told Lan to get up and drink it. I tore off a chicken leg for her to eat. At first, she ate it with relish, but soon she got tired of it. She told me to eat it, but I said, "This chicken soup and chicken are all for you; I won't eat any. Eat this over the next two days to replenish your energy."

That night I went back to my dorm, and came over again the next day. She still wasn't feeling well. I said, "Why don't you ask Lao Shen for another day off, and say you'll go back Monday night?" She thought about it and did as I suggested.
Monday was a snowy day. I came over at noon and saw that she had already gotten up and was still washing up in the bathroom. I said, "You can't touch cold water." She said, "I'm going to get moldy from lying in bed for three days. I just took a hot shower. It's okay. I didn't touch any cold water." Perhaps because of the hot water, her face had a rosy glow, and her complexion looked much better. “It’s alright, I can go back now,” she said. “Maybe the chicken soup really is good for you.” I told her, “You should wait until tonight to go back. It’s snowing heavily outside right now.”
Because my health had improved, my mood had also improved a lot. We lay side by side on the bed, and things got a little unrestrained. After a passionate kiss, I lifted her bra and started sucking on her breasts. Her hands kept rubbing my hair, and her body kept twisting. She made short, soft "ah" sounds. I slowly moved down, kissing her lower abdomen and navel, while pulling off her pants and bra. She reached out to stop me, but I went with the flow. Her fair, smooth thighs and shiny black hair were incredibly alluring. My lips slowly kissed down her thighs, to her calves, to her toes, and back to her thighs, gently brushing over the area between her legs before moving to her other leg. She was starting to lose control; her eyes were closed, and her body trembled occasionally.

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