The innocent girl from the same factory

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Six days ago, one afternoon, the workshop of a large manufacturing group in a small town in the south was bustling with activity. It just so happened that the product I designed was undergoing trial production. The trial production had many problems, and as the product's creator, I was constantly busy on the production line, sweating profusely and almost suffering heatstroke. The weather in Guangdong in July and August is like a sauna. After the production line finally stabilized, I wiped my sweat, caught my breath, and had a moment to admire the young women. I noticed two particularly lively girls joking around, making the surrounding workers laugh. It was a way to find joy amidst the hardship. Upon closer inspection, I realized the two girls looked somewhat alike, and immediately started chatting. I asked them if they were sisters, saying they looked very similar. The particularly lively ones immediately chimed in, saying yes, and even asked how I was so good at guessing. I smiled and said, "I could tell you two are from Guangdong." They were impressed, and I felt much more relaxed. The product trial production was basically on track, so I made small talk to amuse them. Our back-and-forth banter quickly bridged the gap. After the trial production was completed, the two sisters offered to help me move the prototype to the lab because it was overloaded. This left them with good memories too. Women, when they're moved, they relive those memories. Unlike men, who express their feelings immediately, they keep those beautiful memories bottled up inside, like fine wine, and then repeat the cycle until they're completely intoxicated.

Six years ago, the concept of casual sex didn't exist. The first time I heard a colleague in the training room describe a certain type of girl as a "friends with benefits," I was amused and entertained for half an afternoon. I never knew such friends existed, such a wonderful relationship.

The two young girls worked hard on the production line, the older one being 20 and the younger one 17. I genuinely had no intention of tarnishing their image. We'd just say hello when we passed by, and occasionally I'd bring them a bottle of "ice tea" after a meal, and they'd reciprocate with "Wanglaoji" (a popular herbal tea brand). Back then, Jiaduobao was still called Wanglaoji. Later, I joined a public relations research group and had less contact with production. They weren't on their original production line anymore, and I gradually lost touch with these two lively sisters. More than a year passed in the blink of an eye. A new graduate joined the group, and I was responsible for guiding him and showing him the process on the production line. Surprisingly, these two were still on the production line, just transferred from their original one. Actually, employee turnover is very high in manufacturing workshops like this; anyone who can stick around for a year is considered a veteran. I went up to greet them and told them I was surprised they were still there, and they were happy to see me. We'd been through tough times together, and that friendship was a kind of bond. Back then, I was quite shy, but I mustered the courage to ask the older sister for her QQ number. This sweet girl actually said she'd forgotten it and would give it to me when she remembered. I felt incredibly embarrassed, clearly rejected, and slunk away. A few days later, I took a shortcut past the workshop, and she saw me and hurriedly chased after me, handing me a crumpled note with her QQ number written on it. I was overjoyed! Even a fool could feel her enthusiasm; even an idiot could see hope! That night, I promptly invited them for iced dessert. Let's just be good friends, even though one of them secretly harbored feelings for me. They told me many stories about how we met a year ago. The younger sister said she liked seeing me busy and focused with my glasses, while the older sister said she liked that I respected them, saying I didn't bother chatting with so many office workers. They even mentioned something more embarrassing: I'm still a bit shy around girls. I chuckled for a long time. These are the beautiful memories I left them, memories that had been brewing in their hearts for a long time.

Then the story of exchanging iced tea for Wanglaoji herbal tea repeated itself—a reciprocal gesture, truly showing genuine kindness. Southern summers are unbearably hot and humid, and overtime work often leads to colds, especially for a petite woman like me. One day at work, she pitifully told me she had a cold and was on sick leave, with a fever. I told her that even with a fever, she should eat on time and not go hungry. She said she had no appetite and didn't want to move. I offered to pack some for her, but she said she didn't want to eat. I suggested buying her some vegetables to make porridge, but she said it was too much trouble. She didn't refuse. I don't know if it was a moment of impulsiveness or just lust, but at that time, I genuinely didn't have many thoughts of having sex. During work hours, I actually sneaked out to buy groceries and make porridge for her… I brought a lot of vegetables and showed them to her apartment building. She squinted at the door, her face filled with surprise and joy; the emotion was indescribable… Now, thinking back, can you pick up a girl without being attentive? I think no one can, because I'm a loser. There's a very apt saying: "The higher you climb, the lower you have to put yourself; if you want to get her, you have to lower yourself and be attentive." Soon, my favorite porridge was ready and served. She told me it all felt like a dream. I teased her, saying the unbelievable part was yet to come, "Let me feed you..." It was as intimate as a couple who had been dating for a long time. After she finished the porridge, I brought her water and fed her her medicine. Her eyes welled up with tears of gratitude. She needed care and respect, a young 18-year-old girl.

In that moment of emotion, I pulled her into my arms. She didn't resist, so I became bolder, kissing her forehead, her cheek. She didn't resist, then I kissed her lips. Finally, I couldn't control myself anymore. She didn't resist at all. In my excitement, I skipped touching her breasts and simply picked her up and carried her to the bed, pinning her down. She clearly knew what I was going to do, but she wasn't angry at all, saying I was on my period. Seeing that things weren't going to work out, I immediately turned around, hurriedly apologizing, saying I acted impulsively, sorry. I'd preserve the goodwill for later...

Later, after her cold got better, she really wanted a woman all night, really wanted to have sex. I brought her and her sister some sweet soup and a late-night snack, and invited her out for a walk. She happily agreed, leaving her younger sister at home. She sat in the back of my car while I took her for a stroll. Late at night, I led her to a scenic broken bridge by the roadside. From this elevated position, we could see the occasional car rushing by, but the cars couldn't easily see anyone on the bridge. I guided the girl to talk about her past. She mentioned having had boyfriends before. My bottom line is that I don't touch virgins, so she sensed an opportunity. Late at night, we sat on the deserted broken bridge, chatting animatedly. We both understood each other implicitly. Women aren't saints; they want to have sex too, but they need a reason. Give them a reason, and they'll readily accept it. My reason was respect and consideration. I playfully suggested, "How about we don't go home tonight? Let's go to a hotel, and I can massage your sore feet while I'm at it..." Some pretentious girls would feign anger and haughtiness at the mention of a hotel, but she didn't. She said her sister was at home, afraid she'd tell her parents, especially since she was still in her pajamas. ...Hearing there was no chance, I felt quite at ease and decided not to force it. I continued sitting on the broken bridge, chatting with her about this and that. We found a way to start the conversation about her pajamas. Since it was already 10 pm, she was still wearing them. I picked up her waistband and started telling her a story about a man with eleven hands, which made her laugh. "Do you know the eleventh hand is the penis?" I said. She laughed so hard she lay down. I deliberately tugged at her waistband, saying the grass was dirty. The knot in her waistband got caught, revealing a large gap, showing her underwear... The girl wasn't angry. What man could tolerate that? Okay, fine, if you're not angry, go for it. I pinned her down, pulled out my penis, and pulled down her pants. My penis was already soaking wet, pressing against her. She didn't resist at all. I teased her, saying I couldn't find the entrance, testing her willingness. She'd actually been horny for over a year, so she grabbed my penis, found the entrance, and thrust in. This was my first time having sex in the wild. After we finished, there was a commotion near the karaoke bar entrance. Apparently, it was Valentine's Day, and there was some relationship trouble... Later, I often invited her to have sex at the Broken Bridge. Back then, I was young and reckless. After we were done, I'd grab the condom and hang it on a tree in the flowerbed... She was very obedient and cooperative. Once, she was wearing a long skirt, and we sat on top of each other on the grass by the river at night. It was crazy. Suddenly, an old man walked by. He only noticed me when he was very close. I was pinning her down, inside her, too nervous to pull out. I was incredibly nervous. Afterwards, I realized the old man had deliberately come to watch. How wicked! Old in years, but young at heart!

If you leave a lasting impression on a girl, she'll have feelings for you. If you flirt with her a little more, she'll start thinking about you. And when she's thinking about you, if you flirt with her again, she'll become delusional and end up getting herself drunk... Looking back, dating really is a skill. You can't be impatient or lazy; you have to follow the natural progression of things, letting quantitative change lead to qualitative change, and seizing opportunities to achieve a leap forward...

So, keeping it a secret from her sister, the two of them would find excuses to have sex at night. It was always outdoors, and never very deep; just a quick poke around. It wasn't until later, when we went to a hotel, that I finally saw her true face – white, with a few sparse, soft pubic hairs, and pink labia minora. She was very shy and conservative; she never wanted to take off her top during sex and never allowed anyone to admire her vulva. Although I wanted to have sex with her countless times, she wouldn't let me. Her vagina was very shallow; penetration went all the way to the cervix. If I tried to swallow my penis completely, she would cry out in pain… I never forced her; I respected her wishes. Now we live far apart, but we still occasionally have sex when we have the chance. She's very understanding. She says she doesn't want to climb up to us, doesn't ask for anything, just likes being with me. I genuinely care about her; when she's in trouble, I offer to lend her money, even making promises, but she refuses, insisting on paying it back. She only accepts small gifts, like red envelopes and presents for her birthday and Valentine's Day. We get along very well. We were friends, yet we slept together; we were lovers, yet we maintained this ambiguous, distant relationship. This ambivalent relationship, somewhere between friendship and romance, lasted for over two years, until I moved to a distant city. Years later, when the term "casual sex" emerged, I finally categorized our relationship as: friends with benefits, friendship sex, sensory sex, platonic sex...

[The End]

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The innocent girl from the same factory

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