[Passerby]

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

I've had a smooth life from childhood, with a wonderful family, loving parents, good friends,

a good figure, and a pretty face.

In my mind, everything was taken for granted: my parents' love was a given,

my friends' care was a given, everyone's affection was a given, and I was entitled to a perfect love.

After graduating from university, I naturally had a stable job, and everything seemed so

perfect. Every day, entering and leaving the office building, I saw successful men in suits and ties.

I naturally assumed my future partner would be like them, a money-making machine

born . But something unexpected happened. The person I loved appeared, but he wasn't

the type I had in mind.

The biggest characteristic of working in a foreign company is wearing a mask. Everyone around you

wears their own changeable mask. You say one thing to your superiors, another to your subordinates, and yet another to your clients

. Every day is the same. The pressure of life and work suffocated me, so I learned

to indulge myself and started drinking heavily.

On a drizzly weekend, as usual, I went to a bar in the West End after work alone.

It was my usual pub. Inside, there was familiar music, my favorite drinks, and of course, the strong

smell of and handsome men.

Opening the door, a strong tobacco smell hit me, followed by loud

music . With an indifferent expression, I treated this place merely as a way to de-stress. As always, I sat at the bar and

ordered my favorite cocktail from the familiar bartender—a drink called "Loneliness." It had a faint

sour taste , a slight pain in the throat after swallowing, followed by a bittersweet aftertaste. Perhaps I really was lonely,

perhaps I didn't truly love this drink, but just felt we were kindred spirits.

The rain outside, though light, was heavy, slightly dampening my long hair. My silk slip dress,

wet felt even softer, clinging to my lonely skin with a slight coolness. But that only accentuated my shapely figure

. The low-cut black dress clung to my skin, paired with red high-heeled lace-up shoes, slightly wavy long hair, and a delicate

face. Every man's gaze was drawn to me. I wouldn't dare say I was the most beautiful woman in the bar, but

I could definitely say I was the most alluring. Soon, bored men came over to chat me up.

"Hi, are you alone, miss?" a man said as he approached me.

I was used to this kind of opening line. I looked up and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye—my usual

way of looking at people, unrestrained and carefree. He was a slightly overweight man, but judging from his clothes, I knew he

was definitely wealthy. But I've always disliked fat men. I couldn't imagine his beer belly pressing against me,

nor could I bear the sight of his thick, short fingers caressing my skin. I prefer slender men because they're

more attractive.

"Get lost!" I said coldly.

"What did you say? Say it again!" Perhaps the man had never experienced such a rebuff before, as he seemed very

angry .

"I said get lost!" Maybe it was the rain affecting my mood, maybe it was the scolding I'd just received from my boss at work,

maybe it was the loss of a major client, or maybe it was because the man wasn't handsome. At that moment, I was in a terrible mood. I

just wanted to drink alone and didn't want to be bothered.

"You filthy woman, what are you pretending to be so high and mighty for? I'm lucky I even think highly of you." As he spoke,

the fat man grabbed my wrist, and my hand turned pale from lack of blood circulation. I

didn't say a word, just stared at him coldly and arrogantly. I was already slightly drunk, and my vision was starting to blur. I only saw that

everyone in the bar had stopped dancing, and their eyes were all fixed on where I was sitting.

"Say something, you piece of trash, why aren't you saying anything? I'll see what you're capable of today."

As he spoke, the man gripped my hand even tighter. I only felt pain and dizziness, but I still didn't utter a sound.

"Take your filthy hand off me, let him go!" At that moment, a deep voice rang in my ears. Instinctively

, I looked up at the strange man who had appeared beside me. Tall, burly but not fat, with dark skin,

small eyes, a straight nose, and a crew cut. That was the impression this man left on me.

"Who are you? It's none of your business," the fat man said, clearly

hostile to this intruder.

"Let her go!" the man repeated firmly.

"I won't let go, what are you going to do about it?" As the fat man said this, a fist

swung down at him, and I only saw a faint red tinge at the corner of his mouth.

Before , the man grabbed me and pulled me out of the bar.

"Let me go, let me go!" I cried out, my grip hurting. "Don't think that just because you saved me I

have to be grateful. Thank you for your kindness." I was already a little drunk and had no idea that I had been

so rude to my savior.

"Why are you wallowing in self-pity?" The man looked at me with a deep gaze and said, "I've

been watching you for a while. You often drink alone late at night. Why?"

"I like it, I'm happy, what's it to you?"

"It hurts me to see you like this." I seemed to see a light in the man's eyes, the light of tears. This

greatly piqued my curiosity.

"We don't seem to know each other, do we?" He said, leaving me completely bewildered.

"Yes, we don't know each other, but... but I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. I have inexplicable

feelings for you."

"Do you want to have sex with me?" I stared directly at him, boldly scrutinizing him.

"You... what did you say?" The man seemed very surprised.

"I said you want to have sex with me?"

"Is this the kind of girl you are? Drinking alone late at night, having sex with strangers, is this the kind

of girl you are? If you are, then I'm so disappointed in you."

"You're right, this is the kind of girl I am. If you don't have sex with me, I'll find someone else tonight."

Saying this, I staggered towards the pub I had just left.

At that moment, I felt a sharp pain in my arm. The man grabbed me and said calmly, "Come with

me."

Actually, I'm not a promiscuous girl. In the daytime sunlight, I'm a healthy and lively girl, but

under the neon lights, I seem to take off my mask and become a different person. But no matter how

unrestrained , I have principles: I don't sleep with men I don't like.

There are two reasons why I wanted to have sex with the man in front of me: first, I was interested in his story; second, he was my type.

As the taxi sped along, we arrived at the entrance of a hotel. He left me alone in

the car and went in first. After a while, he helped me out of the car, took me to the elevator, and led me to a room. In other people

's eyes, we might have been a couple, or perhaps just a man who picked up a drunk woman at a bar and

naturally ended up in a hotel.

As soon as the door opened, I leaned into his arms, wrapped my arms around his neck, and began kissing his

lips. That night, I really wanted to let loose. My movements were rough and intense; I just wanted his response,

his embrace. I felt so cold; I needed warmth.

At first, he was a little surprised and overwhelmed by my kisses, and tried desperately to avoid them.

He pushed me away and said, "You're drunk."

"No, I know what I'm doing. Don't you want me?" Though drunk, I was still somewhat sober; of course I

knew what I was doing.

"I don't want you to have sex with other men. I just want you to live a good life."

"I'm doing very well." Saying this, I stepped forward again and wrapped my arms around his neck, passionately kissing him.

A man is a man, after all; everyone has desires, especially men. Under my passionate kiss, he

finally responded, responding with equal intensity, his hands around my waist. I felt like my

lips were about to be bitten through; my body had lost its balance, held tightly in his arms. I felt my entire

weight on him. I was in pain, but I felt safe and happy. I wished time

could stop , I wished he would come again and again. I don't

know when, but we were intertwined, both lying on the bed. But I

felt like our lips had never separated. I only felt that I had somehow kicked off my

high heels , and that we were now completely naked.

His lips left mine, wandering to other parts of my body—earlobe, forehead, eyes, cheek,

neck … Though his kisses landed in different places, the movements remained rough and intense, and I could still

feel the warmth he left behind.

Alcohol definitely had a catalytic effect on sex; that night I was particularly lost in passion.

While , I experienced an unprecedentedly intense pleasure, and I kept letting out soft moans, “Mmm… ah

…”

His lips quickly moved to my breasts. He stopped, no

longer sucking, his tongue circling my areolas, one hand caressing my other breast. I

felt waves of tingling pleasure flowing from my feet to my entire body. As he suckled my nipples like a child, my body

convulsed ecstatically, “Mmm… ah… so good… mmm… mmm…” I involuntarily

uttered sounds.

After a while, he sat up and helped me up, so I was head down, straddling

him , and then he began to lick my genitals. I felt him slowly part my labia with his fingers, then gently press my clitoris with

his fingers . "Ah...

ah...it's so itchy...don't..." I felt a tingling and numb sensation in my lower body, it was so uncomfortable. Looking at his already erect

penis, I swallowed it whole without hesitation.

I felt his tongue slowly enter my vagina, beginning to slowly thrust in and out, while I used my tongue

to lick his glans and urethral opening, sometimes sucking on his entire glans, sometimes taking the whole

shaft into my mouth, and then stroking it up and down. His tongue kept licking my clitoris, and I felt

a pleasure I had never experienced before. At that moment, I lost myself, tightly wrapping his penis with my soft lips.

I made "hmm...hum

..." and panting sounds. At that moment, I was incredibly excited, and later I learned that this was the so-called

69 position.

We performed oral sex on each other for about 15 minutes, then he picked me up and changed my position.

"Lift your buttocks up," he said in a commanding tone. I obediently did as he said, knowing he would

enter from behind, which was my favorite way to have sex—primitive like an animal, yet incredibly pleasurable.

I cooperatively raised my buttocks and pressed my body down, knowing this would make it easier for him to enter. I only felt

him guide his penis and stroke it against my buttocks a few times before suddenly thrusting.

"Ah..." He didn't give me any time to adjust, penetrating all the way in. Although I felt pain,

I was also inexplicably excited. He thrust rapidly, and I felt our bodies merge together, an unprecedented

pleasure spreading like an electric current through every cell of my body.

"Mmm... Ah... Faster... Harder... Oh... So good..." I

twisted my buttocks, and he grabbed my breast with one hand, pinching my tender nipple with two fingers, while his other hand

gripped my hand tightly. I gripped his hand just as tightly; that hand gave me a sense of security and made me

feel that at this moment, we needed each other.

After about 80 rapid thrusts, I felt a tingling sensation in my lower body. I desperately

twisted my hips, and my breasts swayed with the movement. "Ah... um... faster... faster... I want...

ah... I'm coming... um..." Hearing this, he thrust even faster. Soon after, I felt my lower body

contract violently, and my whole body convulsed. I knew I had orgasmed. At the same time, he pulled his penis out, and I felt a warm flow on

my buttocks . I knew he had ejaculated at that moment.

After more than an hour of intense lovemaking, we were both exhausted. I nestled in his arms, stroking

his firm chest.

"I think I've fallen in love with you, stranger."

"Don't joke around. You can fall in love so easily? Your love is too casual." He seemed dismissive of what I said

, but I was telling the truth.

"Can you tell me your story? Why did you save me? Why did you say you had special feelings for me?"

"Because you look like my ex-girlfriend. She died in a car accident two years ago. She is my lifelong..."

"It hurts." At that moment, I saw tears welling up in his eyes. It was hard to imagine that such a strong-looking man could be

so fragile inside.

"Then would you be willing to continue your love for her in me? I don't mind being her substitute." I

don't know why I said such a thing. I was spoiled since childhood. I didn't allow anyone to touch my

things, and I didn't like to share with others. I wanted everything I wanted. I don't know why I would want to be a substitute for

a dead person, especially in the most selfish matter of love.

He looked at me and then touched my head: "Tired? Go to sleep!"

I don't know how much time passed, but I fell asleep. When I woke up, there was only an empty pillow next to me.

After getting up and washing up, I saw the dark purple marks of varying shades on my neck in the mirror. I realized that yesterday was not

a nightmare.

Then I saw a piece of paper on the dressing table. It read: "You were sleeping so soundly, so I didn't wake you.

I've already paid for the room. You can pack your things and leave. Today I'm going to New York on business.

Maybe I'll never come back. I want to leave this city that has made me so sad." Thank you for the joy and comfort you gave me last night

. Please don't indulge yourself anymore, and please forget me. The last signature was "Passerby." Then

I noticed two wet stains on the paper.

After that day, I never went back to that pub. I still maintained a healthy and lively

image , but in the darkness, I no longer indulged myself. That passerby in my life taught me that not

everything is a given, and some things I may never understand in my lifetime. Just like I will never understand

what kind of feelings existed between him and that girl who looked like me, and why her departure made him

a passerby .

Now I begin to cherish—cherish friends, cherish love, cherish

everything , because I'm afraid, afraid of losing them, afraid they are all just passersby in my life.

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