My Record of N Men - Completed

page views:1 Publication date:2023-04-09 08:12:05

Recording My n Men and a Talking Cat

I remember an article that said a woman needs a certain number of men in her life; it seemed the more the number, the less she loses out. If we use that standard, I definitely didn't lose out; I actually made a fortune! Hehe. Starting today, I'm going to begin with the first man I met, recalling my n men, and use this article to commemorate my bygone years and the men I've had physical contact with!

For the sake of convenience, I'll use numbers to represent these men.

Every woman has a wild streak in her bones; some women restrain themselves when they meet a man who satisfies them, while others like to try different men, constantly comparing and searching for that perfect match, just like a child who's never satisfied with their toy, throwing away the old one when they see a new one. So don't criticize a woman's wildness; this applies to both men and women. When I was in my

early teens, I met a boy in a college entrance exam prep class. He was from an ethnic minority, dark-skinned, and simple-minded. He liked to play with the long, black braids of the girl in front of him during class. Let's call him Number 1. Number 1 had brown, watery eyes, liked drinking, smoking, fighting, and also played soccer. I only reached his shoulder. I was a teenage girl back then, and seeing a man like that made my heart flutter. So, that winter break, I used the excuse of not going home until I got into university and stayed at school with a group of ethnic minority classmates for the New Year. Of course, he didn't go home either. One night that winter break, a few of us left-behind students ate at a food stall outside. After the boys drank, they went back to the dormitory. I was cold, so he took me to his bed. That night, he was nervous, and so was I. He didn't seem to go deep; he was done in a short while. The next day, I found bloodstains on the bed. I had unknowingly given my innocence to this boy. Later, I got into a vocational school, while he failed. He and his classmates came to see me, and I coldly told him, "We're different now. Don't come to see me anymore!" I ignored the sadness in his eyes. Hehe, that was also the first time I dumped a man, and it went pretty smoothly!

During my two years of school, looking at my innocent and carefree classmates, I felt inferior, thinking that I was no longer a virgin and was therefore less than others. Yet, my body constantly craved men, wanting only to sleep in their arms. But men didn't think that way; they needed my body. One weekend, I went to a newsstand five bus stops away from school and slept next to the man who sold newspapers. He was a friend of my relative, wore glasses, had a leg disability, was almost 30, and unmarried. I heard he had a criminal record, had been to jail, and after his release, the government had assigned him to sell newspapers at the newsstand, requiring him to report to the police station monthly. I had stayed at my relative's house for a while, and he often came to visit my relative's children. When he saw me, he was very caring, and because of his past experiences, I admired him a little. He made a living from the newsstand and slept there every night. The night I went there, people kept coming to buy cigarettes and other things. Every time he got up to sell something, he would press me down to avoid being discovered, which excited me, like a child playing hide-and-seek. I went twice more later. He was afraid of taking responsibility and repeatedly asked me not to tell anyone, which I did very well, keeping it a secret. This is the first time I'm talking about him here, haha. At the time, I was also afraid of getting pregnant, since I was still a student. So after three visits, this somewhat legendary man, number two, disappeared from my life.

In the blink of an eye, I graduated from vocational school after two years. During that time, a university student showed interest in me, but since there was no physical contact, I'll just leave it at that. In June of that year, I went to the county where I had attended middle school for an internship. There, I met the third man in my life. This man still thinks about me to this day. I guess his longing stems from his resentment; he's resentful that I dumped him, haha. Men are all like that; they ignore women who are good to them, but they can't forget women who look down on them. My internship was two months long, and the company provided me with an apartment. The guy in my dorm, number 3, was a high school classmate. He went home early that year and spent the night with a bunch of his classmates in my dorm. He stayed, and on the small bed, we snuggled together, whispering sweet nothings and making love passionately. At that time, I really thought I would marry him, and he thought so too. When the internship ended, I left without a word. I don't know what I was thinking then. But I still left him a letter, telling him I would wait for my job assignment at school and that he could come to see me. When he came, I had already returned to my hometown to work.

After returning home, I wasn't used to life in the south. It took me two years to adjust. During that time, I lived a relatively peaceful life. When I was 23, I met a man.

Because I hadn't had sex for over two years, my vagina was very tight. This man (number 4) later became my husband. At first, he wanted to stay overnight, but I refused. I was afraid he would find out I wasn't a virgin. Then one night, he forced me to stay, and he entered me. I didn't bleed. But it hurt a lot. The next day, I walked unsteadily. My explanation was that I didn't know why I hadn't bled. He didn't mind. He officially became my boyfriend. With a boyfriend, I began to experience the different sensations of a man's penis. The previous times were just casual flings, without any real enjoyment. During this time, due to my family's opposition, I wanted to leave him. Then came Man #5, a man I met at a dance hall whose name I didn't know. He was probably younger than me. We only had a one-night stand, and I was very wet with him. That night, my boyfriend caught us in the act. They got into a fight. I told my boyfriend, "Let's break up." He wouldn't agree. He only agreed to separate for a while. During this time, my cousin introduced me to a young man from her workplace, very handsome but also rather dull, Man #6. I left him alone at my house, and he would spend an afternoon watching TV waiting for me. Later, I slept with him. His penis was very gentle, and his kisses were very wet. His eyes were also brown. It reminded me of Man #1. We had sex about twice. Later, my best friend stole him away, but the woman he married wasn't my best friend. He later had a son. I got back together with my boyfriend. The third time I broke up with my boyfriend, I slept with another man, number 7, who worked at the same place as number 6. Number 7 liked to whisper in my ear during sex, telling stories from his childhood, but unfortunately, I didn't remember them. Once, when we were having an affair, his colleague knocked on the door. He got nervous and turned off the light—haha, what a blunder! After persistently knocking on the door for 10 minutes, the colleague finally gave up and left. Number 7 later became a son-in-law who married into the family, had a daughter, and still blushes when he sees me. Later, I concluded that boyfriends and girlfriends shouldn't frequently say "break up," or they'll cheat. Just a piece of advice, haha.

The fourth time I broke up with my husband, a neighbor introduced me to a company commander in the army, number 8. That handsome company commander helped me with laundry and cleaning as soon as he arrived at my house. When we made love, he said he would definitely marry me and take me with him to his military post. His leave to visit his family was short, and after returning to his unit, he wrote to me almost every day. But when I found out he had injured his foot, I decisively abandoned him. Later, I got married, and my husband always thought I only had him and the man he caught me in the act. In fact, I had already slept with eight men. But looking at my appearance, no one would believe me even if I told them. After having children, I worked steadily while taking care of them. When my child was in kindergarten, a soldier working on a construction project came to my workplace, man number 9. We were a front-line unit. The young soldier looked only in his early twenties. I was almost 30 at the time. The young soldier blushed as soon as he saw me and even handed me a little note. I thought he was so funny. I took him up the mountain to their water conservancy construction site on my little motorcycle. He sat behind me, and I could clearly feel his hard little penis pressing against my buttocks. He would occasionally touch my breasts. As I rode the motorcycle, I twisted my body, and his breathing became increasingly rapid. When we reached the vicinity of his construction site, he got off the motorcycle, grabbed my hand, and led me into the woods. I chuckled; he had already made a makeshift nest out of thatch in the woods. He ejaculated quickly, probably stimulated by my twisting and turning on the road. But being a young man, he got hard again in no time, and this time he thrust much harder, which satisfied me. He told me to wait for him. I smiled and got up to go down the mountain. Whenever he had free time, he would sneak down the mountain to find me, and I would take him for a ride on my motorcycle. Then we would stop by the roadside on a dark, windy night and make love standing up. It was very exciting.

The young soldier was later transferred away, and I later visited him once at the military region where he had been transferred. We made love in a hotel until we were swollen.

I can't remember the exact order of the men after that, so I'll just write down whoever comes to mind, numbered sequentially. Man number 10 was an online friend from the same city. Back then, the internet was booming, and I also registered for QQ. A man added me, flirted with me, and we met. One night, he drove to my neighborhood for the first time, and I rode in his car to a quiet forest area. We listened to the wind, the rustling of the pines, and the sound of flowing water. He stood in front of the car and took me. Man number 10 was lean and muscular, very hard, and incredibly skilled. He gave me a wonderful sexual experience; just thinking about him makes my lower abdomen swell and heat up. Later, we met frequently. The most exciting time was when he was driving while we were having sex. I was sitting on his lap, writhing, and his legs were twitching as he pressed the accelerator, constantly looking over my body to check the road ahead. That time was incredibly pleasurable. The car continued driving normally on the winding mountain road. When oncoming cars flashed their headlights, it only made us more excited! Finally, the car stopped amidst the climax of their passion. He said I was his demon, and I said he was my curse. We would get excited whenever our bodies touched. We usually made love inside or outside the car, standing or lying down. Once, he took me to a hotel, and soon another man came. When he touched me, his hands were ice-cold. I resisted, and he gave up. The man he brought was his boss. Both men loved sex; that time they wanted a threesome, which I refused. Haha, those two are birds of a feather! I

can't touch the number 10 man; if we do, our sexual desire explodes, and we won't stop until we're exhausted! If I could have a husband like that, how blissful that would be! The number 11 man is the number 10 man's boss. He'd been eyeing me for a long time, and I wanted to experience what he was like, so I agreed to drive him to a reservoir. That night, in the car, he made me feel terrible, like chewing wax. He was 10 years older than number 10. Logically, a man in his forties is at his peak. I advise the ladies reading my articles not to fall for this, because as men get older, their stamina diminishes, like an old eggplant—good-looking but useless. Later, number 11 invited me countless times, but I always made excuses to decline. I wanted to enjoy myself, not be enjoyed. The choice was mine, wasn't it? Haha. Number 12 was also a friend of number 10. He waited for me for so long in the hotel with the air conditioning on, and he was hungry, so his hands were ice-cold. We had sex once. I don't like men with cold hands and feet, no matter the reason. Another time, I had sex with number 10 at his house. His wife was on night shift, and we made love from downstairs to upstairs, each step a climax. Upstairs, he ejaculated, and I was trembling with excitement. In the heat of the moment, we promised each other we wouldn't look for anyone else. Haha, don't believe that. It was just a dream uttered in the throes of passion.

The man on number 13 was a thin, handsome man, younger than me, a civil servant, and obsessed with cars. Every time I called, he would appear promptly to help me with problems I had carelessly caused, like when the car battery or gas ran out. The more he helped, the more I liked him. One night, in the middle of the night, he was drunk and called me, asking me to pick him up. Since it was nearby, I drove my motorcycle to meet him. He was walking unsteadily on the street. I stopped and offered him a ride, but he refused, insisting I talk to him first. I went with him to the greenbelt, and during our conversation, he pushed me down. It was nearing autumn, and although there was grass, the fog was heavy. I struggled, but to no avail, and he eventually penetrated me. Afterwards, he took me home, acting as if he wasn't the one who was drunk. When I got home, it was already past 2 a.m., and I went straight to bed and fell asleep. As a result, a man with a buzz cut somehow got in and pinned me down on the bed. I struggled in vain and gave in; it was rape. After he ejaculated, he disappeared without a trace. I was trembling with fear. I called an older man nearby, who grabbed a stick and searched from the first floor to the third, but didn't find him. It was already 3 a.m. When he saw I was still trembling, he pulled me down to lie on the bed, and soon after, he entered me. That's how I was unknowingly penetrated by three men that night, my body filled with their semen. Later, I fell into a deep sleep. The intruder was probably man number 14, and the older man was number 15. To be honest, all three men brought me to orgasm that night. It's a little embarrassing to admit.

The older man was actually about the same age as man number 11, but he was very considerate of a woman's feelings during sex. He also sang well. I learned during a mahjong game at his house that he and his wife were divorced but still living together. He would lie on the bed in his shorts for a nap, and his ex-wife would come in to bring him water, which was quite awkward. He also had another house in another location where his girlfriend, 15 years younger than him, lived. He moved between the two places. When I found out about these things, I absolutely refused to go when Uncle 15 asked me out. Haha. Man 16, whom I also met online, was short and thin, but very muscular, with a leopard tattooed on his arm. He was very vigorous during sex, but he sweated profusely, like rain. He came to the city twice, and I slept with him for two nights, leaving in the early morning both times. Although I missed his vigor, I couldn't stand his sweat. So I let him disappear from my life. Man 17, whom I met at an event, was the most disgusting of all the men I met.

He was trying to cheat on me, and he didn't keep his mouth shut. When his wife found out, he begged me to explain to her. He dared to do it but not to admit it. What does this have to do with me! His wife actually called me, so I had a guy I just met handle it for me. The details of how it was handled are irrelevant to the purpose of this article, so I'll omit them. What I want to say is that number 17 is a man who can't get enough to eat at home and can't get enough to eat outside. A selfish and cowardly man. Women, keep an eye on your men! This world is already chaotic enough; don't let them add to the chaos. Number 18, a man 11 years younger than me, we met at a karaoke bar. I never expected him to be interested in me. He's a very talented man. Not tall, but a fantastic street dancer! His fingers are like magic; I can orgasm while his fingers are dancing! When we found out each other's ages, we were both a little embarrassed. We didn't have sex after that. But we cared for and helped each other like family. At this time, because of my husband's infidelity, I got a divorce. I don't know if my husband knew about all the men I'd been with, but I never showed any weakness in front of him. Therefore, at the time of the divorce, he gave me all the assets. The man number 19 appeared six months after my divorce. He had a very magnetic voice, a bit of a rebellious youth, and was extremely attentive to me, teaching me hosting and public speaking. We lived together. He wanted sex every night; if he couldn't get an erection, he would use his hand to achieve it and penetrate me. The most bizarre thing was that when I wasn't wet, he would use his saliva instead, which made me feel nauseous for a while. During the two and a half months we lived together, except for my period, we had sex almost every night. It's weird, I actually met a man with hypersexuality. Although I enjoy sex, I couldn't handle such a high frequency of sex. I quietly moved out. He then threatened suicide. Luckily, we had lived together, otherwise, it would have been tragic if I had only found out after marrying him. After leaving him, I hid for a long time before he gave up. The man number 20 was a leader, an older man. Actually, the man number 20 appeared after the young soldier; I only remembered this man then, but to avoid disrupting the order, I'm recording him here. As I mentioned before, I work in a public service unit. I come into contact with many people. Number 20 was a demobilized regimental commander who became a leader in a local department. Once, when he came to my workplace to handle some business, I was quite helpful and attentive to him, which left a deep impression, and he asked for my phone number. However, this uncle was truly impotent; he always needed a very long time to warm up, which frustrated me. Number 21 was my best friend's classmate, very handsome, but he loved to lecture. I always found the scene ridiculous: having sex with a woman who wasn't his wife while telling him he had principles! So, I discarded Number 21 like a rag. Number 22 was a very vain man; he would get excited if you praised him. At a bar, he kissed me, and we made love in his Audi Q5. He was also great.

Man #22 said he and his wife had both had their fortunes told. His wife was destined to be a hard-working homemaker, while he was destined to be a playboy. He only needed to focus on making money; that was how the family would prosper. So, his wife not only took care of the children at home but also worked odd jobs in a factory. I met his wife; she was pretty, but her hands were calloused. Man #22 was proud and straightforward. Later, I saw him with another woman, so we stopped having sex. Man #23 was the one who helped me win over Man #17's wife. He had a tattoo on his chest. During sex, he started off very strong, but towards the end, he was exhausted and needed manual stimulation to ejaculate. We each got what we wanted. Man #24 was a policeman. During sex with him, he was as meticulous as if he were completing a task assigned by his superior. He was a heavy smoker and coughed. He often received assignments while we were having sex late at night. I worried that having sex at night would hinder him from going on missions, so I left him. I enjoyed the pleasure these men brought me, and I wasn't greedy. Even after we stopped having physical contact, they would still care for me from time to time. Like man number 10, number 25 had body odor, but like number 10, he gave me great pleasure when he entered me. He seemed to enjoy my screams. Man number 25 was also my mentor in my career. His insights were unique and I benefited greatly. After having sex with these two men, I would have a faint body odor. But I didn't dislike the smell at all. Their semen didn't have that smell; I've smelled and tasted it.

There was another man, number 26, who was a bit of a character. Once, I was on a sleeper bus passing through my hometown in another province, going to Shandong for business. It was my first time taking this kind of transportation. The young man in the next berth, a sailor, told me he wanted me the moment I met his eyes. In the middle of the night, I climbed into an upper berth at the back of the bus to sleep, and he followed me, reaching under my blanket to touch me. I was a little worried about being discovered by the other passengers, so I stopped him. He asked for my phone number. A few days after I returned from my business trip, he said he was passing through my hometown and wanted to see me. I knew he wanted it. I took him to a hotel and kept him there for a day and a night; we made love for a day and a night as well. We're more than ten years apart in age; he's younger than me. He didn't know my age and always thought I was in my twenties. Such a clueless man made me want to take advantage of him, haha. He was very reluctant to leave. Later, he wanted to come back, so I disappeared. I was worried that my lifestyle would affect his views on choosing a partner. I didn't want to hurt anyone; I was just a lost sheep. Haha, don't throw bricks at me.

Although I have many men, it won't affect my work. I'm an excellent employee at work and have received several city-level awards. My leisure life is quite healthy; I swim, play ball, read, etc. Enough said, I'll continue recording my men. Man number 27 is about to appear...

I met the man on the 27th at a camping trip. While everyone was setting up tents on the beach, he took my hand and we went swimming in the sea. As darkness fell, only the two of us remained in the water. It was in the sea that he penetrated me. Back on shore, in the middle of the night, he crawled into my tent again, and I couldn't help but moan. I think the other campers around us must have heard. We had sex more than ten times afterward. Actually, sex in the sea isn't as intense as on land.

I never used a condom with any of the men I had sex with. I don't like using condoms. The impact of a man's ejaculation on a woman's deepest point is incredibly intense; with a condom, you can't feel that pleasure—it's like scratching an itch through a boot. It's strange, though. Despite having had sex with so many men and so many different people, my biennial checkups show I'm healthier than my female colleagues at work. Aside from a very minor inflammation, I have no other gynecological diseases. Among the married women in my workplace, I'm the healthiest. Haha. But I can't be careless. After all, it's my own body. Without health, there's no enjoyment. Maybe my body just has some kind of immune system. Don't follow my example, using a condom is always safer. Now, let me tell you about man number 28...

I met man number 28 on a dating website. He seemed quite healthy, with a head of black hair. When we met, he drove ahead, and I followed behind. I noticed he kept combing his hair while driving, which puzzled me. Why was he combing it so meticulously? When we got to a coffee shop, I noticed his sideburns were white. I suddenly realized that his comb was for hair dye. That wasn't a big deal, though. The problem was that I discovered he was taking medication before sex. Out of politeness, I didn't look at what he was taking, but I guessed it was Viagra or something, because the next morning when I wanted him, he couldn't perform. This kind of man isn't for me. So, I told him we weren't a good match. Man number 29 is also a policeman. This policeman's penis was extremely small, like a duck's tongue, even shorter. I felt like he was just skimming the surface; he couldn't even get in. A man's penis being short and small can seriously affect his self-confidence. Actually, because his penis was unusual, it was very stimulating for me. That time, when it hovered at the entrance of my vagina, I orgasmed. I wanted him to penetrate me and continue to enjoy the pleasure, but he withdrew, ejaculated immediately, and ran to the bathroom. I was completely confused. I wanted to get a good look at his penis, but he resolutely wouldn't let me. It's a bit of a pity I didn't get a proper look at this treasure. I can't describe it in more detail here, what a shame.

The man on the 30th entered my life like a fairytale. He was also my mentor and friend. Once, during sex, I suddenly wondered how such a model husband could cheat. He replied, "There's not enough food at home." So, sisters, make sure your men are well-fed! He had profound insights into life and taught me many principles of life. Unfortunately, he left me in a misunderstanding. This man was the only one who left me voluntarily. Man #31 firmly believed my divorce was his fault, but actually, that was just an excuse I used to keep him around. His penis was incredibly thick, filling me completely. Every time I had sex with him, I worried that other men's penises would feel like toothpicks in a bucket. Having sex with him was very satisfying and pleasurable, but afterwards it would hurt, and my vagina would feel like it was tearing. I didn't think his nose was particularly big, so the online claim that you can tell a man's penis size by his nose is inaccurate.

Man #32 was a leader's driver, a heavy smoker; you could smell his cigarette smoke even before you got close. I slept with him purely because I wanted someone to have some fun with. But he wasn't very vigorous, and I wasn't satisfied. His penis was short and small, he liked the doggy style, and he was gossipy, haha. I only slept with him twice before leaving. Later, he always wanted to have sex with me, but I pretended not to notice or was busy. In short, it was impossible for him, haha.

Man #33 was someone I met before my divorce. I missed something in the previous account, so I'll add it here. This man, when I was a young woman, once secretly visited my workplace with his family and friends—his sister told me this later. At that time, I already had a boyfriend, so we were not meant to be. He had seen me, but I had never seen him. Many years later, I went to his workplace on business, and he recognized me immediately, even calling me by name. I was surprised, and he said he was so-and-so's brother. I said, "Oh, it's you." To my surprise, the next evening, he followed me to my home using the address I had given him at his workplace the day before. I didn't even know his full name, only his surname. This made me very embarrassed, but out of politeness, I welcomed him into my home. My husband and I greeted him very warmly, and he made small talk for a few minutes before leaving. My husband and I were completely baffled. He always calls me unpredictably, at any time. Later, we slept together, but unexpectedly, he couldn't perform either. He said that the training in the army was too strict, almost cruel, so he was ruined. Haha. Whether this is true remains to be verified, but I believe the military's crucible does forge men into more masculine traits!

The man in charge, number 34, is my colleague. As the saying goes, "a rabbit doesn't eat the grass near its burrow," and I never considered including a male colleague in my list of men. But he just barged in; he's a mid-level manager. We've only been together twice. He speaks very formally, spitting everywhere. His sex skills are so-so, probably from nervousness. I don't want people in my workplace to know about my private life, and I don't need to use men in my workplace to advance my career, so I've avoided him ever since. I think I'll never get involved with another male colleague.

The man number 34 is my colleague. As the saying goes, "a rabbit doesn't eat the grass near its burrow," and I never considered including a male colleague in my list of men. But he just barged in; he's a mid-level manager. We only had sex twice. He speaks very meticulously, spitting everywhere. His sex skills are so-so, probably from nervousness. I don't want people at work to know about my private life, and I don't need to use men at work to advance my career, so I've avoided him ever since. I think I'll never get involved with another male colleague.

Men and women are complementary, like yin and yang. But I'm not the kind of woman who's completely open-minded. Through those men, I learned a lot from them; most of them are kind people, just like me, lost in their own ways. I'm still quite shy in life. In public, I don't flirt with men, nor do I accept any man's advances. I won't let a man know another man exists. I also never boast or tell my story to my best friends or anyone who seems trustworthy. I also never look down on the spouses of these men; they are innocent, and it has nothing to do with me. I always silently reflect and summarize things on my own. Now, while I can still clearly recall the events of these past years, I'm recording them in writing. Unexpectedly, yesterday that blind fortune teller said I've had many romantic encounters in my life, and too many could negatively impact my descendants. He told me to carefully recall how many I've had, not to miss any, and he would help me resolve the issue. Now, my writing isn't just for recording anymore—I need to carefully recall every single one, because that could affect the next generation! Continuing with the record...

Man number 37 is the one I've been with the longest besides my ex-husband, and he's still with me. He's nothing special, just easy to control. He's almost 20 centimeters taller than me and much younger. When we have sex, he always considers my feelings. If I'm satisfied, he ejaculates; if I'm not, he persists until I'm satisfied. With him, we don't change positions much; it's usually woman-on-top. Standing sex is very difficult because of the height difference. I saw on a website that the ideal height for a man is 10 centimeters taller than a woman, making kissing and sex easier, which seems to make sense.

There was once a recently discharged armed police officer, much younger than me. I participated in a charity event in a revolutionary base area, and he went with me. That night, I took him for a drive, and on the roadside, I saw his "little brother"—very thick, big, and powerful. Ultimately, my guilt prevented me from taking his hand; I let him go because I worried about feeling guilty later, since he was only 20. I won't number this kid. Just a little tidbit here~~hehe.

Now, let me write about those other men: When I first got divorced, during the time I was living with that man, number 19, whom I wanted to have sex with every night, he led me to play "Werewolf," also known as "Close Your Eyes When It's Dark." During this time, I met many people, including a tall, thin man who always looked at me with a burning gaze. Deep down, I'm a bit insecure. I always felt I was average-looking and not exactly a heartthrob, so when a man had feelings for me, it made me anxious and uneasy. Therefore, I always deliberately avoided his gaze. Later, as we played more often, everyone knew about his feelings for me. Whenever we didn't have enough players, he'd ask me to call him, and he always came. This made me even more uneasy, as if I was using him. When I'm with one man, I don't date two men at the same time. So, I stopped participating in the murder mystery game. This tall, thin man later had physical contact with me, but we never had sex. To this day, I don't know what attracted him to me.

The man number 38 was a powerful older man. Before I met him, I didn't know his background; I just thought he was somewhat talented, spoke logically, and could recite a few lines of poetry. Once, he came to my small county town for an inspection, and in his presidential suite, we had sex for a night. Perhaps because of his age, his skin felt loose and didn't feel good to the touch. Later, I discovered he was a powerful official, and his QQ space was full of messages from women. He messaged me saying he was coming again, but I ignored him. Haha, he treats every place like his personal palace. Once, when I went to the provincial capital, I asked him to book a hotel room for me, but I didn't go and stood him up. I'll chuckle to myself here.

I won't reveal his identity, but I met him as soon as I started working; we've known each other for as long as I've worked here. He's very tall and handsome; he was very dashing when he was young, and now he looks like Wang Zhiwen, very much so. He and his wife were in a relationship where the woman was older, which was very conspicuous in their time, but they remained devoted and loving, always considered a model couple. As he started to resemble Wang Zhiwen more and more, we started seeing each other more frequently due to work. I never thought about anything happening between us. His usual small gestures towards me, like brushing a strand of hair aside or supporting my waist when the elevator sways, I always interpreted as a caring older brother to a younger sister. But even with this near-perfect man, something still happened between us. That day, at a banquet with many superiors present, I couldn't hold my liquor; after just two glasses of red wine, I was completely drunk. Due to the alcohol, I couldn't see anything; all I could see were black stars. He helped me to rest, and in the room, he used to be my pillow until I sobered up. When I woke up, I suddenly didn't want to leave his embrace, so I turned around and hugged him back. Just then, he convulsed—he ejaculated! Good heavens, I didn't do anything, just hugged him! The next morning, he knocked on my door to wake me up, so I pinned him down on the bed and stripped him naked. And then, I just kissed him, and he ejaculated. What a waste! A super frustrating experience.

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