[Urban] Adult Officialdom (Complete) - 13-15

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-22

Chapter 12 of "Officialdom's Erotic Debauchery":

Secretary Qin usually had the habit of getting up early to exercise. Although this trip was for tourism, and he had expended a lot of energy last night to "try something new," the sunlight streaming through the gaps in the floor-to-ceiling curtains woke him up before 9 a.m. Especially seeing Bai Yun sleeping beside him instantly dispelled his sleepiness.

Her pretty face, disheveled hair, curvaceous petite body, her languid and alluring sleeping posture like a begonia in spring slumber, and her tempting breasts rising and falling slightly with her even breathing—all these sights stirred up Secretary Qin's desire once more. Looking further down, he saw the thin skirt clinging to the young woman's delicate body, outlining the beautiful curves of her slender waist, rounded hips, and jade-like legs. Her legs were slightly crossed, and her full mons pubis pushed against the thin fabric, creating an alluring little mound.

Secretary Qin's lust was aroused. He sat up and gently lifted her skirt to her waist, revealing the beautiful scenery of the young woman's private parts. Last night he was too busy with his desires to appreciate it properly, and now he realized that Teacher Bai's pussy was actually a rare "steamed bun pussy"!

When he was exchanging ideas with his old friends, Minister Lin and Bank Manager Fang, he discovered that these old men also preferred women with plump vulvas, even calling them "steamed bun pussy." He naturally agreed with this, because when a woman is excited, especially during orgasm, her labia majora will stretch to the sides and become thinner and flatter, which somewhat affects the tactile and visual aesthetics; while a woman with a thick and fleshy mons pubis and labia majora, even during orgasm, still looks plump and feels chubby when fucked, which is incredibly arousing!

But he disagreed with Minister Lin's view that all plump vulvas are "steamed bun pussy." Some women, when wearing tight pants, make their genitals appear full and alluring, but once they take off their pants, they are often wrinkled, dark, or rough, greatly diminishing a man's sexual desire—calling such a genital "steamed bun" is a waste of a fine name! His standards for a "steamed bun cunt" are far more demanding than those of the older men: besides being thick and plump, it must also be smooth, white, and elastic.

For example, Zheng Shuwen's cunt, though plump, is brownish in color, probably due to age and too much sex, and her labia are hairy, so it doesn't count. Xiao Huang's labia are fleshy with little hair, white and smooth, but her labia minora are overdeveloped, turning out like blooming flowers, which has its own charm, but it doesn't qualify as a "steamed bun."

Secretary Qin has seen countless women, but so far, the number of women who truly meet his standards for a "steamed bun cunt" is very small. Bank Manager Fang's accountant mistress, what's her name, Jing? She's thin and slender, but her pussy is plump and tender—that counts; Old Liu's "neighborhood sweetheart," Ji Xiaorou, not only has a plump pussy but is also naturally bald—a "perfect steamed bun"; then there's the beautiful policewoman Chu Jie, her police trousers hanging down her legs, her black uniform revealing a plump, white, tender little bun between her legs—another "steamed bun" pussy that makes one's heart itch just thinking about it; and...

and of course, there's this little girl, Haitang Chunshui, right now. The young woman's vulva was unusually full, with sparse, fine pubic hair neatly fanning out towards her lower abdomen and softly adhering to the tender flesh at the top. Her smooth, hairless labia majora were also plump and swollen, their white flesh tinged with an alluring pink. The slit between the labia was briefly visible before disappearing into the tightly closed thighs...

Secretary Qin couldn't help but press the young woman's plump labia with his index finger—wow, soft yet resilient, it bounced back as soon as he withdrew his hand, just like pressing on a freshly steamed white bun!

"Eee—um...what are you doing..."

Bai Yun groaned softly in her sleep.

Half-asleep, she seemed to hear a man say, "Hmm...you really look like a steamed bun! Little beauty, from now on I'll call you Little Steamed Bun..."

"Oh no—"

Opening her sleepy eyes, she found her lower body exposed in front of the man. She screamed and sat up, grabbing the blanket next to her and wrapping it around herself. She lowered her head, hugged her knees, and trembled in the corner of the bed. Remembering the absurdity of the previous night, she blushed with shame and dared not utter another sound.

"Still shy? We weren't very..."

"Please stop—"

Bai Yun could no longer bear the humiliation and interrupted Secretary Qin's lewd words with a scream that sounded like crying. Then, as if suddenly terrified of the bed, she jumped off the bed and stood far away by the French windows, arms crossed, face downcast. But the expressions on her face, sometimes wanting to cry, sometimes confused, sometimes shy, were all seen by Secretary Qin.

After standing there for a while, the young woman sighed softly, lowered her head, and walked around the bed towards the bathroom. Her gait was somewhat unnatural, as if something was stuck between her legs. Reaching the bathroom door, she was suddenly blocked by a large body. She tried to look up to speak, but was gently embraced.

"Please let go... I want... to take a shower..."

The young woman showed no intention of struggling, only leaning softly against the man's chest, pleading softly.

Fortunately, her phone rang at that moment, and the secretary released her to answer it in the outer room.

After finishing the call, he smoked a cigarette in the living room, and Secretary Qin's thoughts returned to the beautiful young woman in the room. He gently pushed open the bedroom door and saw in the transparent bathroom that the young woman was lifting her skirt and sitting on the toilet. Half of her white buttocks swayed before sinking into the toilet seat, followed by a

rapid "whoosh" of urine.

The beautiful sound of the young woman urinating instantly aroused Secretary Qin's lust again. He pushed open the glass door and walked in nonchalantly.

"Oh! You..."

Bai Yun was so embarrassed and flustered that she didn't know what to say. Her heart skipped a beat, and the "spitting" sound of her urination stopped abruptly.

"Continue, weren't you spitting quite loudly just now? I could hear it from the doorway. Why did you stop all of a sudden? Hurry up, I'm also a little urgent to pee, I can't hold it in anymore!"

Secretary Qin teased as he unbuckled his nightgown belt.

While showering earlier, Bai Yun had washed her private parts countless times, but she still felt like there was semen flowing inside. After washing, she felt the urge to pee and wanted to use the force of urination to expel the semen from her vagina, so she urinated with extra force, and even she herself felt a little embarrassed by the "spitting" sound. Now that the secretary had pointed it out, she was even more ashamed.

"Please... go out for a moment..."

she pleaded softly, raising her head slightly, but still not daring to look him in the eye and keeping her eyes closed.

Suddenly, a strong stench of urine mixed with a man's distinctive scent filled her nostrils, giving her a slightly intoxicating feeling, just like last night. Something seemed to tickle her heart, and she gasped, opening her eyes—a large, dark purple penis was swaying before her!

"Hurry up, I can't hold it in anymore!"

The stinking man held the "dirty thing" that had taken her virginity last night, trembling as if about to urinate.

"Ah—you pervert..."

Bai Yun suddenly remembered the scene of being violated by Qin Jun in the bathroom the night before last, and she jumped up in fright, pushing away the tall body in front of her in shame and panic, rushing out of the bathroom.

"Hehe...why the rush? You didn't even wipe your ass, ha..."

Behind her came Secretary Qin's lewd laughter and the deep, loud "thump-thump" of a man urinating.

The hotel building's floor plan was slightly concave, with the presidential suite located at the very center of the concave area on the top floor, facing the Bohai Sea to the southeast. There was only one presidential suite in the entire hotel. Its terrace was different from the balconies of the other guest rooms; it didn't extend out of the wall, but was directly located on the roof of the guest room below.

The terrace, about 20 square meters, is decorated like a small garden with flowers, plants, a fish pond, a swing, a stone table, and a rocking chair. Looking out over the sea, the blue sky and white clouds blend seamlessly with the water, the beach dotted with red and green, and white waves lapping against the azure sea. Looking down, although it's only 9:30 in the morning, there are already small groups of people in red, white, yellow, and green moving around in the tennis court and outdoor swimming pool. Because the terrace is located at the top center of the building's recessed area, one can also see people gazing at the sea from several balconies below the 19th floor on either side.

On a nearby balcony, a man is taking pictures of the sea view with a telephoto lens. Does he look familiar? A bald head, a thin build… it looks like Ms. Zheng's husband, Director Yu.

Bai Yun instinctively shrank back—although everyone probably knew she had stayed overnight in the secretary's room last night, she was still too embarrassed to let anyone see her directly. Especially now that she wasn't even wearing underwear under her skirt, if someone looked up from below… She nervously glanced down at the railing—thankfully, although the railing was openwork, it was built about half a meter inward from the building's facade. This half-meter-wide open space was a flower bed, and the lush flowers and plants could just cover the openwork of the railing, so if Director Yu looked up, he would at most only see her upper body exposed above the railing, right?

After escaping from the bathroom, she originally wanted to run straight back to her guest room, back to her husband, and never step into this shameful place again! But when she got to the door, she remembered that she was completely naked under her clothes, so she hurriedly ran to the mirror, turned around, and looked at herself from both sides—oh! How embarrassing! The fabric was so thin and see-through, her nipples, the bulge between her legs, and her buttocks and cleft… even someone with severe myopia would have everything clearly visible! She hurriedly ran back to her bedroom to find her underwear and bra, but couldn't find them anywhere. Seeing the secretary brushing his teeth in the bathroom, she was too embarrassed to ask. Afraid that the secretary would have "bad intentions" if he saw her dressed like that, she went to the balcony to hide for a while, leaning on the railing and thinking of a solution.

"What should I do? How am I supposed to get out like this? Ask Secretary Qin for my underwear back? That seems unlikely. Ask Hao to bring me a set… How am I supposed to bring that up? Staying overnight in another man's room, and then having my husband bring me underwear… Ugh! That would be so embarrassing!… Honey… you said last night… you'd see things differently… Is that true? You… can you really let go of this? Don't you love me anymore? God! What should I do… This game can't go on! Otherwise, it'll really ruin us… You jerk Hao, it's all your fault… And that Secretary Qin, he's just a… old scoundrel…"

Just as she was agonizing over this, a large body leaned in from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. His heavy male breath came from above, and she felt a large, half-soft, half-hard mass of flesh pressed against her sensitive lower back—it was definitely that "dirty thing." She struggled slightly, then leaned weakly against the man's chest.

Was it the Secretary's authority? The strength of the embrace? Or just pure sensory stimulation? She couldn't understand why, but the moment he hugged her, her body went limp, as if she'd fallen into a pile of cotton. Her resolve vanished instantly, leaving only a blushing dizziness and a trembling anticipation.

"Little steamed bun, you really know how to tease me. We were all lovey-dovey last night, why the sudden change of heart?"

Secretary Qin's large hand caressed her waist and abdomen, while his other hand grasped and kneaded one of her tender breasts. Even through her clothes, the man's heat easily penetrated the thin fabric, continuously reaching her breasts, causing her nipples to involuntarily erect.

"What… little… steamed bun…"

she stammered, somewhat confused, thinking he was implying her breasts were too small, not as full and beautiful as Sister Zheng's. A woman's instinct for beauty made her pout slightly as she muttered softly, a hint of dissatisfaction rising to her pretty face. She twisted her body slightly, indicating she wanted to break free from his embrace.

"Your...are more swollen than others', like a white steamed bun..."

As he spoke, Secretary Qin pressed his hand against her mons pubis outside her skirt and rubbed it a few times.

"You...you pervert..."

Bai Yun's face flushed red with embarrassment. She then remembered that when she was half-awake, she seemed to hear him say something about "little steamed bun." So he was talking about her...here! Of course she knew that her genitals seemed fuller and more prominent than others, especially when she wore jeans or other tight pants. She felt her lower abdomen and crotch bulge, which often attracted many men's lewd glances, causing her to leave several of her beloved pants unused in the closet. "But...how can you talk about someone like that?"

While feeling shy and resentful, she also felt a sweet sensation.

"From now on...I'll call you 'little steamed bun,' okay?"

Secretary Qin teased the petite young woman with a rosy face, while accurately probing the clitoris inside her slit with his finger and gently touching it a few times through her skirt.

"Oh! No...you're not allowed to call me that...I..."

With just a few light touches, Bai Yun felt her whole body go weak and her pores open.

"Then...call me when no one else is around. Call me now...Little—Man—Thumbs..."

"Please...don't call me that..."

Bai Yun blushed so much that even her ears turned red, and she shook her head desperately like a little girl, while at the same time, she felt that her "mantou slit" was getting wet.

"Please...give me back my bra...panties! How can I go out like this..."

She hadn't lost her mind from being touched, and she knew that now might be the best time to make a request.

"You cunning little mantou, you're trying to use your beauty to your advantage? We agreed yesterday that this was a souvenir, and I wouldn't give it back to you. When Xiao Tian comes over later, I'll ask him to go back and get you a set!...Or—how about I ask Xiao Ye to bring you a set of sexy open-crotch panties? Hehe..."

"No! No need to call Ye Wei...let my husband...bring it over..."

Mentioning her husband, her heart clenched—what would she do if he really came later? Was she really supposed to be naked under her clothes, held in the arms of an old man, and have to say to her husband, "Honey, could you please go back and get me that pair of underwear?"...

Bai Yun was worrying about this embarrassing situation when she suddenly felt a chill on her buttocks—her skirt had been lifted up to her waist by the secretary from behind! Then she felt a heat between her buttocks—that annoying "dirty thing" was already pressed against her!

"Ah! No—"

she cried out in surprise, immediately realizing that they were outside. Afraid that others would hear, she twisted her body and pleaded in a low voice, "Please—not here..."

But the young woman's twisting and struggling was useless to the strong and powerful Secretary Qin, and only increased his pleasure in defiling a married woman! His already hard penis was being squeezed and rubbed between her plump and tender buttocks, and this wonderful feeling was no less than being directly inserted into her vagina—even if the half-squatting position was tiring, it was worth it!

"My little darling, haven't you ever tried being fucked in the open before? It's so exciting... Don't worry, we're on the top floor, no one will see us..."

Secretary Qin was already ready to pounce, how could he not? While comforting the young woman, he lowered his stance, his hand gripping his large penis and rubbing it against her already wet vulva, exploring the entrance.

"Please, Secretary... not here... look down... Yu... oh! God—"

Bai Yun wanted to tell Secretary Qin that Director Yu was on the balcony below and could see them at any moment. As she spoke, she leaned forward slightly, pointing to the secretary. But this naturally caused her buttocks to stick out, making her vulva more exposed, allowing the man behind her to instantly find the entrance and thrust upwards without hesitation... When she realized her vulva was suddenly filled,

the word "God—" was stuck in her throat before she could even finish uttering it.

"My God! In broad daylight, like this..."

Bai Yun, who usually made love with her husband in the dark, was terrified by this scene. Her face turned pale with tension, her whole body trembled, and even the tender flesh inside her vagina spasmed.

"Secretary, please... go back inside, do whatever you want... oh—"

She nervously glanced down at Lao Yu's balcony, and as the secretary pulled back, she desperately tried to shrink herself further in, but was immediately pushed back in forcefully.

"Little darling... this is really exciting, look—your little buns are so wet..."

Although the horse stance was tiring, the sight of a tender, white buttock sandwiched between her spread legs, and the large penis thrusting in and out of the young woman's tender vagina amidst spasms, combined with the extraordinary stimulation of openly fucking a married woman, would be irresistible even for a fool! Secretary Qin lifted the young woman's skirt all the way up to her waist, then reached under her crotch and scooped up a handful of her

vaginal fluid, holding it up to her eyes. Several thick fingers were indeed covered in her vaginal fluid, glistening in the sunlight. A strand of fluid hung from her fingertip, crystal clear mixed with a bit of white, and incredibly resilient, hanging long for a good 5 or 6 seconds before breaking off from her fingertip, landing perfectly on a small, pink chrysanthemum bud. The chrysanthemum trembled, and a silvery thread dangled from its petals…

“Oh—um…”

Bai Yun was too ashamed to speak. Only then did she realize that her crotch was indeed "flooded," and the shameful fluid had already trickled down her legs, crawling like earthworms, making her inner thighs itchy, almost reaching her knees.

"Please... go back inside... do whatever you want..."

the young woman pleaded, trying to suppress the unusual pleasure amidst the tension.

"Really, do whatever I want? Then I'll go back inside... and fuck your little asshole!"

Secretary Qin paused slightly, teasingly rubbing the little anus hidden in the young woman's buttocks with his thumb.

"No—please... no more... oh! He... saw it..."

The intense itching in her anus made her involuntarily clench her buttocks and tilt her head back, suddenly realizing that Director Yu was holding a camera and looking this way on the balcony below! This terrified the young woman, and she tried to push the railing with both hands to hide inside, but Secretary Qin seemed to be deliberately pushing her outwards, making her so nervous that even her buttocks muscles tensed up.

"Hi—Good morning, Teacher Bai! Are you alone? The scenery is beautiful—let me take a picture of you!"

The oblivious Old Yu greeted her loudly at this moment. Due to the angle, he probably hadn't seen Secretary Qin crouching behind her. But his loud shout drew attention from several balconies nearby. Although they probably couldn't see the erotic scene behind the railing, Bai Yun was still blushing with nervousness.

Secretary Qin behind her clearly felt the tender flesh inside the young woman's vagina seem tense, tightly gripping his large penis and writhing rapidly. He slowed his thrusting, savoring the wonderful sensation of the vagina's contractions. To further tease Bai Yun, he gently lifted her slender waist with one hand, leaned forward, and then thrust upwards forcefully, making the young woman cry out "Oh!—" as her toes touched the ground

.

"What? Teacher Bai—speak louder! I can't hear you—"

Just then, Old Yu probably thought Bai Yun's "Oh—"

was directed at him, and asked loudly.

"I said the scenery—is very beautiful...oh...no need to take pictures of me...we'll take pictures when we get to the sea later, oh!...Is Teacher Zheng up yet..."

Bai Yun had to force herself to greet Director Yu while enduring the constant intrusion of the hateful penis inside her. This unprecedented shame and the unusual pleasure amidst the tension made her constantly worried that she would cry out, and when she had no choice but to cover her mouth and mumble an "oh."

Actually, Old Yu wasn't stupid; he had already figured it out and had even taken several pictures with a telephoto lens. He took the initiative to greet Bai Yun, firstly to prevent Secretary Qin from misunderstanding that he was intentionally spying, and secondly, of course, to deliberately tease this beautiful teacher. Through the gaps in the flowers and the carved railings, he captured the lifted skirt and the jade-like legs, as well as the vaguely visible private parts of the young woman. Now, with Secretary Qin lifting and pressing Bai Yun forward, Old Yu was thoroughly enjoying himself. He snapped a series of photos—although the swaying flowers and plants sometimes affected the focus, he managed to capture the bulging shape of her mons pubis and the shadows of her fine pubic hair. One photo even captured the wonderful sight of her white labia holding a black penis! Of course, he didn't miss a single detail of the young woman's furrowed brows, glazed eyes, and nervous, shy expression.

"Please... I can't take it anymore... Let me go back inside... You can do it... there... too..."

Bai Yun knew she was about to climax, and she pleaded and compromised in a low voice.

"Where? You mean your little asshole... Little steamed bun, you're really obedient... Okay, let me thrust twenty more times, then we'll go back to the room... One!... Two! Ah—three! Oh..."

The pleasure was like the waves of the distant sea, one wave pushing the other, each wave higher than the last, crashing against Bai Yun's heart as if it had already flown out of the building, flying towards the blue sky and the sea...

"Teacher Bai—what's wrong—are you not feeling well? Where's the secretary—where is he? Or—I'll ask Shuwen to go see you..."

Old Yu's voice downstairs sounded like an annoying crow cawing to Bai Yun at this moment.

Secretary Qin, however, was secretly delighted—this bastard, he's putting on a show with me!

"No need—"

Bai Yun's face turned red as she barely managed to answer.

"Ten! Hey—eleven!..."

Secretary Qin was still thrusting and counting from behind, but Bai Yun realized that she was about to collapse, and could no longer withstand even the slightest stimulation.

As she counted to "twelve," Secretary Qin suddenly lifted her waist, his burning hot mushroom head pressing hard against her clitoris, rubbing it a few times before peeking out from behind her head and greeting Old Yu: "Old Yu! Up so early!"

In an instant, Bai Yun's mind went blank, her body convulsing uncontrollably. She silently told herself, "Don't scream! Don't scream!"

Although she covered her mouth and clenched her teeth, a muffled "hmm—hmm!" still escaped her nose

.

Hearing the secretary greet Old Yu from behind, she felt a surge of shame and panic. Her body convulsed, her vagina overflowed, and her urethra loosened, gushing out—she had lost control! She frantically clutched her lower abdomen, trying desperately to hold it in, but in the heat of the climax, her lower body felt like it wasn't her own, completely unresponsive!

A thin stream of urine, straining against her will, arced gracefully, sputtering and spurting, rising and falling, scattering across the white ceramic tiles of the railing and flowing into a pool of yellowish-brown on the white marble floor. At one point, the spray was so forceful that it even grazed the intricate details of the railing, splashing onto the flowers and plants outside. A few small chrysanthemums, caught in this sudden, slightly scalding "yellow rain," swayed innocently for a moment.

Finally, the urine seemed to lose its strength, changing from a spray to a stream, overflowing from the urethra and flowing intermittently down the young woman's jade-like legs; some even flowed from the man's penis onto his scrotum, gathering and dripping from the wrinkled scrotum.

Secretary Qin, too, couldn't hold back his ejaculation amidst the tense contractions of the young woman's vaginal muscles and the fierce sucking of her clitoris. A surge of hot, thick semen pounded against the delicate flower core, causing the young woman to tremble involuntarily a few more times…

Continuing to let his semi-erect penis soak in her warm, juice-filled vagina, Secretary Qin held the woman tightly from behind, while loudly chatting with Old Yu on the balcony below. Only when it seemed Teacher Zheng called and Old Yu went back to his room did he pull out his softened penis, hold the woman's skirt at her waist, and squat down behind her.

Every time he finished fucking a wife he liked, Secretary Qin liked to "inspect" his "spoils" left on her vagina while she was still trembling in the afterglow of her orgasm. What he saw now was a truly "glorious" harvest—a long, semen-stained strand of fluid clung to her swollen, tender, rosy labia, barely connected, dripping onto a puddle of her fresh urine on the ground, the yellow liquid tinged with white—how could it not arouse lustful thoughts!

Having slept with so many women, the only one who experienced incontinence during orgasm was years ago. Back when he was the deputy secretary of the Discipline Inspection Commission, the wife of a corrupt deputy director of the county finance bureau had this problem. Every time he touched her, she would get so nervous that she would wet her pants. When he fucked her, the mixture of her vaginal fluid and the smell of her urine was quite a unique experience! He hadn't encountered another one since then, so seeing her again today was truly precious!

Satisfied, Secretary Qin released the young woman and sat in a rocking chair, swaying back and forth to rest, while admiring the woman sobbing and trembling on the railing. The woman's soft shoulders, shaking with her tears, stirred a complex mix of pity and a desire to possess and ravage her. As

Bai Yun's climax subsided and she saw that no one was on the balconies near or far, a deep sense of humiliation and shame caused her long-held tears to burst forth, accompanied by suppressed sobs…

After a long while, she wiped away her tears, lowered her skirt, shifted her feet from the urine stain, and leaned against the railing to steal a glance at Secretary Qin, who was resting with his eyes closed, before daring to look at the puddle of her own urine on the ground. The yellowish urine, still slightly foamy, made her so ashamed that she almost covered her mouth and cried again.

As a child, she was particularly timid and did have a problem with urinating incontinence when nervous, especially when the teacher asked questions or during exams. Her mother took her to see a doctor, who gave her some psychological counseling, encouraging her to make more friends and try to overcome her timidity. After entering middle school, she made more friends, became more outgoing, and gradually her urinary incontinence disappeared. However, during an exam in her second year of high school, she cheated a little, but unexpectedly, the teacher suddenly walked up from behind and knocked on her desk, startling her so much that she urinated again. After the exam, she remained hunched over her desk, and her classmates thought she was crying, but she was actually waiting for her skirt to dry a bit before she dared to leave…

Of course, apart from her parents and elementary school homeroom teacher, even her husband, Tian Hao, and her best friend knew nothing about this.

“But I haven’t done it again since then, have I? Today’s situation… is so much more nerve-wracking than that time I cheated on the exam…”

Bai Yun thought shyly, and couldn’t help but steal another glance at Secretary Qin. “It’s all that old scoundrel’s fault! He deliberately made me so embarrassed and nervous… Ugh, it’s so embarrassing! Will he… laugh at me… and tell others?”

At this moment, she realized that her high heels were also wet, so uncomfortable! She stole another glance at Secretary Qin and saw that he was still resting with his eyes closed. She quickly turned around shyly, squatted down, took off her shoes and poured them out—oh dear, they were wet and dripped with a few drops of yellow liquid, and smelled pungent—truly embarrassing for a beauty!

In fact, years of dealing with officials of all ranks in the municipal party committee compound had subtly transformed Tian Hao from a refined scholar into a "junior official" adept at assessing situations and handling matters calmly and rationally—although he himself didn't really accept the title of "official," preferring to be called a "scholar" or "literati." He woke up promptly at 8 a.m., took a cold shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed, all in just 20 minutes. By the time he stood on the balcony looking at the garden and thinking of his wife, he had already mentally reviewed the events of the past two days, basically clarifying his thoughts, and had even mentally outlined his analysis as if writing a report for his superiors: 1. It was all arranged by them, and he and his wife had fallen into their carefully laid trap (the thought that the gentle and affectionate Ye Wei might also be their "accomplice" still saddened him). 2. His wife's second loss of virginity and his own "collusion" were now facts. Just as Director Liu said, once, twice, or three times makes little difference, so he might as well grit his teeth and continue the "game." 3. The advantages of the "game"

are twofold: first, he can sleep with other men's wives to balance his own psychology; second, he can smoothly enter Secretary Qin's circle, with promotion in sight—if he loses one thing, he must gain another to make it worthwhile! 4. The disadvantage of the "game" is that it might affect his marital relationship, but the fact that he still cares so much about his wife proves that he still deeply loves her and hasn't been affected much by this incident (as for whether his wife's feelings for him will change because of this incident, that's what he's most worried about right now). 5. Everyone is in the same boat, so he shouldn't worry about the scandal of "using his wife to get a promotion" getting out.

6. Whether in the video or right beside him, while witnessing his wife's humiliation made him feel heartbroken and ashamed, he had to admit that he also felt a fleeting excitement! Moreover, as the process progressed, the more fait accomplied it became, the more trapped in the helplessness of reality, the more this abnormal excitement would "surface" (this couldn't help but remind him of the male protagonist in that erotic novel—Wang Bing? Hehe, missing the "Qiu" character would make him just like me!

After sorting out his extremely chaotic thoughts from the previous two days, Tian Hao felt much more refreshed this morning, only vaguely feeling as if he had overlooked something, but couldn't quite recall it. It wasn't until he had ordered brunch at the Western restaurant, called Boss Li to reconfirm the itinerary and pick-up arrangements, and was on his way to knock on the doors of Director Yu and Director Liu's rooms that he suddenly remembered—it was his wife's attitude! He had overlooked whether his wife was willing or not. He was determined to continue this crucial "game"!

For this, he felt somewhat guilty towards his wife—how could he disregard her feelings?

But immediately, he worried again: "What if A-Yun disagrees? Wouldn't all my carefully organized thoughts be thrown into chaos again? From now on… I'll not only have to endure the pain of being cuckolded and ridiculed, but I'll also lose my wife without catching the 'wolf,' losing both my future and my woman…" As

he nervously knocked on the doors of the various leaders, Tian Hao noticed that Director Yu's expression was somewhat strange, his dry laugh carrying a hint of schadenfreude; Director Liu, on the other hand, seemed to have been waiting for him, opening the door as soon as he heard the knock and saying he would go with him to greet the Party Secretary.

"Old Yu, you old bastard! What are you gloating about? You've been cuckolded for years, and you're laughing at me! Humph! I'll change my name if I don't make your Teacher Zheng scream with pleasure one day!"

In the elevator, Tian Hao was cursing Director Yu in his heart, but then he thought, "This is a wife-swapping circle, isn't it? Is A-Yun going to be...slept with by every man in the circle? Including this old bastard? Oh right, I wonder if my wife was also...slept with by Director Liu last night? Sigh, what a loss!...I think I heard my wife begging the secretary last night." "Don't let any other man touch her... Hmm—yes, we can't let her get cuckolded any more times! Especially not a lecherous old man like Lao Yu. If A-Yun were to be held in his arms, I'd really jump into the sea! Yes—since things have come to this, let A-Yun stick with the Party Secretary, and absolutely no other man can get near her..."

Thinking this, Tian Hao felt a little calmer. But as he approached the presidential suite, his feelings became complicated again—in the old society, poor people would sell their wives and just walk away, out of sight, out of mind, but he felt like he was going to a brothel to see his wife! He didn't know... Upon reaching the suite door, Director Liu produced a room key and, while opening the door, quietly told him that the Party Secretary had specially asked the hotel to issue him an extra key for the gathering. Tian Hao couldn't help but secretly envy the Party Secretary's trust and treatment of Director Liu.

He suddenly remembered Old Yu's nervous demeanor when he was about to knock on the door the day before yesterday: "Teacher Zheng must have been in the Party Secretary's room that day, that's why that old bastard was so nervous, afraid I'd catch him cheating! Sigh, now... how did it become my turn? If I just go in like this, what if I see my wife..." He was being pinned down by the Party Secretary… If they did that… where would I put my face? That old fox, Director Liu, he's definitely doing it on purpose…”

He was hesitating about what reason to give to stop Director Liu when the door clicked open. He had no choice but to nervously follow Director Liu inside. There was no one in the living room, and the door to the master bedroom was wide open. Director Liu softly called out a few times, “Secretary—Boss Qin—”

When no one answered, he walked into the bedroom. When he reached the bedroom door, Tian Hao’s heart was in his throat. Seeing that there was no one on the bed, his heart finally settled down.

"Hehe, enjoying the view outside!"

Director Liu pointed to the terrace with its open glass door.

Following Director Liu to the terrace, before Tian Hao could even greet the secretary who was resting with his eyes closed, he was stunned by the sight before him—his wife was squatting barefoot with her back to him, a pair of wet high heels lying beside her in the sunlight. Her skirt was pulled up in front of her, as if she was intently wringing it, oblivious to the people coming in behind her. She didn't even notice a small portion of her white, tender buttocks peeking out from under her taut skirt; even more infuriating, there was a small puddle of whitish, sticky fluid on the ground beneath her buttocks—clearly just-flowing vaginal fluid mixed with semen! And…and even more shocking, there was a pool of yellowish, foamy liquid on the ground inside the railing beside her—wasn't that urine?

"Wife, what on earth have you been doing here?!"

Tian Hao's recently calmed emotions surged again. The relief he felt after making his decision that morning, fueled by rational analysis, suddenly returned, replaced by a heavy weight. A mix of emotions—bitterness, anguish, pity, and doubt—overwhelmed him. Looking at his wife's green dress, he smiled bitterly to himself: "I might as well have cut it off and made a hat for myself!"

Bai Yun heard a noise behind her, turned around, and was startled. She quickly put down her dress, stood up, and trembled, barefoot against the wall, her face flushed with shame. She didn't even have the courage to look at her husband. She wanted to cry but couldn't, wanted to speak but didn't know what to say.

Seeing his wife's pitiful state, Tian Hao felt a pang of pain in his heart. All his resentment vanished instantly. He quickly greeted Secretary Qin and rushed to his wife's side, embracing her tightly. His voice trembled as he softly asked, "Ah Yun, are you... alright?"

Bai Yun was moved by her husband's tenderness and wanted to cry in his arms, but with two lecherous old men nearby, she could only suppress her sobs, her tears soaking her husband's clothes.

After giving Tian Hao a perfunctory reply with his eyes closed, Secretary Qin stretched lazily before slowly opening his eyes to chat with Director Liu. He glanced at the touching scene of the young couple embracing, exchanged a smile with Director Liu, and then said to Bai Yun, "Little Mantou... oh no, Teacher Bai, didn't you ask Xiao Tian to get you something?"

Tian Hao was somewhat surprised and hurriedly asked his wife, "Yun, what is it?"

Bai Yun was so embarrassed that she couldn't lift her head, trembling as she hid in her husband's arms for a long time without daring to utter a sound. Only after her husband repeatedly pressed her did she finally raise her peach-blossom-like face, slightly tiptoe, and whisper in his ear, "Underwear and bra, silly..."

Then she snuggled back into her husband's arms.

Looking down at his wife's back, Tian Hao saw her pert buttocks, their curves alluring and faintly visible under her thin skirt, and suddenly realized what she meant. He hurriedly said, "I know, I know, I'll be right back!" and

turned to run out in a hurry.

"Wait for me..."

Bai Yun followed her husband out, grabbing his hand in the living room, her face flushed and her voice trembling, "Honey... this dress... I can't wear it anymore... get me the shirt and pants you gave me for my birthday last year..."

"Okay, okay, I know! Wait for me, I'm coming right away!"

Tian Hao glanced at the damp patches on his wife's dress, his heart aching again, and quickly turned and ran out.

Bai Yun took another shower in her bathroom, squatting in the bathtub and rinsing her private parts for a long time until she felt there were no more traces of that old rogue inside, before she dressed and nervously walked out. Stealing a glance at her husband's expression as he leaned against the bed watching the news on TV, her heart pounded, and she softly called out, "Honey..."

Then she stood cautiously beside him, pouting and playing with her nails, looking like a little girl who had done something wrong and was standing in front of the teacher waiting for criticism.

Finally, she was back with her beloved husband! Although it was only one night, it felt like three autumns had passed—so much had changed in that one night. She wondered if her husband still loved her as much as before. Judging from the tender look on his face when he hugged and comforted her, he probably did. But after such a shameful thing, why was he still…? She really couldn't understand a man's heart.

Several minutes of silence…

“Husband (wife), do you still love me?”

Suddenly, they both asked the same question in unison.

A burst of cheerful laughter filled the room.

Then, they embraced, rolled around, kissed passionately, and caressed each other on the bed, like a couple reunited after a long separation…

“Husband, do you really love me the same as before?”

As the passion subsided, Bai Yun, pinned beneath him, asked again, still uneasy.

“Sigh—it's different…”

“What? You!”

Bai Yun's eyes widened in shock.

"It's different, I love you a hundred times more than before!"

"You're so mean! How can you be so scary? But... I've already been... impure... Aren't you disgusted?"

"Wife, don't say such things, I really won't be disgusted! Besides, thinking about what happened to you with the secretary... that... makes my heart ache a little, but on the other hand... sigh, I won't say it, I won't say it, you'll laugh at me."

"Say it—say it... I won't laugh at you!"

"It's just... sigh, I can't explain it... I'm just a little excited... I want to see what it's like under another man..." "

Really? That's not... hehe... I have a virginity complex, but you, you actually have this kind of cuckold... that kind of complex... hehe..."

"Hey, hey—you said you weren't allowed to laugh! Still laughing? See how I'll deal with you..."

As he spoke, Tian Hao pretended to be embarrassed and angry, and reached out to scratch her armpit.

"Giggle...no...I won't do it again...giiggle..."

"See if you dare laugh at me again!"

"I won't...I won't do it again..."

"Then...as for the secretary...are you still willing..."

Tian Hao was really too ashamed to speak.

"What do you mean willing! Do you think I would be willing? But...sigh, now that things are like this...do you think he will let us go? Sigh—it's all your fault, you made me...behaved on the balcony...if word gets out, how can I face people...waaaah..."

Crying on cue is a woman's unique ability.

"Yes, yes, it's all my fault! You've sacrificed too much for me."

Tian Hao was originally going to ask her what happened on the balcony, but seeing her crying like a baby, he had no choice but to give up for the time being and quickly tried to appease her.

"That's right... In the future... I might be... ruined by him... that old rogue... and become a withered flower..."

At this point, Bai Yun suddenly remembered the secretary's terrifying black penis, and a faint blush unconsciously rose on her tear-streaked face. She quickly pulled a long face and said, "If you don't want me anymore, I'll... wear a red dress and hang myself... and haunt you as a vengeful ghost!"

"Don't worry, how could you become a withered flower... You'll always be as beautiful as a fresh flower! How could I not want you? If my love for you had a time limit, it would definitely be—ten thousand years!"

"Hmph! You men—you're so sweet-talking!"

Bai Yun finally smiled through her tears.

"Um... right... there's something else... it's... did Director Liu......"

"Him? With his fat, chubby face, I wouldn't let him... touch me!"

Bai Yun herself didn't know why she had hidden this from her husband. Guilt made her feign coquettishness, turning her head away, not daring to look at her husband. But when she thought of the scene of being penetrated by Director Liu while lying in He Yingdan's arms, her face couldn't help but turn crimson.

"That's good, that's good. I don't want... too many men... to get involved with you... especially this cunning fat man, and that disgusting—old bastard!"

"Old bastard? Oh—you mean Teacher Zheng's husband? Hehe...that's disgusting enough...I won't even let him look at me from now on, okay?"

Bai Yun laughed, suddenly remembering how he had caught her doing something shameful on the balcony, and her hatred for him intensified.

"Alright, now I need to check if this place...has been damaged by that old pervert!"

Tian Hao sat on his wife's lap, reaching to remove her white, tight-fitting riding breeches. Seeing her full mons pubis bulge high in the crotch, his heart skipped a beat. While zipping up the breeches, he asked, "By the way, I think I heard that old pervert call you something... 'Little Bun'! What's going on?"

"It's our little secret, I won't tell you..."

Bai Yun wanted to test her husband's feelings, deliberately teasing him.

"Hmph, what nice things could that old pervert say? He must be referring to... this! It's bulging like a bun... purely tempting men to commit crimes! Little slut! Little Bun!"

Sure enough, as her husband pulled down her breeches, stroking her mons pubis through her underwear, his voice trembled with excitement, and his eyes shone with a strange light she had never seen before.

"Pervert! You men... are all the same!"

Bai Yun said coquettishly, but a sweet ripple of joy rose in her heart, pleased that she possessed a part of her body that men found so alluring. ...

The couple whispered sweet nothings in the room, lingering for a long time. Bai Yun's white panties were all wet from being touched, and Tian Hao's hard penis had been pulled out by his wife...

"Oh no! It's 10:35! We've kept the secretary and the others waiting!"

Tian Hao suddenly shouted, jumping off the bed and hurriedly putting on his pants. "Quick, get up! We agreed to have dinner at 10:20."

"Are you that afraid of Qin Shu... that old pervert?"

Bai Yun, who was in the middle of an arousal, had a flushed face and pouted, complaining unwillingly.

"It's not that I'm afraid, it's... my secretary's duty..."

Tian Hao denied it, but felt really humiliated—his wife had been taken by him, yet he was still so respectful to that old man, wasn't that a bit pathetic? ...

Public Relations Career Chapter 01

Actually, Zhang Yalun is not my real name. In a well-known sports academy in the north, my real name is Zhang Jianya. At this moment, I am lying in a luxury suite of a five-star hotel in the south, lighting my first cigarette of the day. Through the densely layered double curtains, you couldn't tell what time it was. The bed was a mess, bearing the marks of our night's toss and turn. A pillow lay on the carpet, and under the bed were piles of white tissues, undoubtedly stained with my semen and another woman's bodily fluids. She left in the morning, saying an important foreign businessman had invited her for morning tea. He was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open, and he wanted to slap her for her incessant nagging. Heaven knows how women have such boundless energy; wasn't she just as wildly active as me last night, partying until late?

Underneath the ashtray on the bedside table were ten neatly arranged hundred-yuan bills. This woman, so lacking in manners, did she ever pay like that? It was like throwing wine in my face in public. She seemed to be a novice at this. And to be honest, this woman's flesh was so soft and smooth, so irresistible. What was her name? I blinked, unable to recall for a moment. I remembered giving her my business card; I hoped she would come again.

I showered, shaved, and sprayed some fresh breath freshener in my mouth to completely mask last night's revelry. I slipped on a white short-sleeved shirt and black trousers, grabbed my designer handbag, and left the room. The elevator was crowded; a girl in a hotel uniform gave me a disdainful look, but I flashed her a smile and a flirtatious wink, making her blush and look exceptionally beautiful.

Stepping out of the hotel, the bright sunlight stung my eyes. A white cloud dotted the sky; summer mornings are always intoxicating. A gentle sea breeze blew coolly against my face, and the air still carried the scent of beer and perfume from last night. Dewdrops lingered on the flower petals of the roadside garden, their indescribable fragrance swirling in the air. I looked presentable, like a sales manager at a foreign company, my hurried steps suggesting I was rushing to an important appointment.

My rented apartment is nearby. Turning off the bustling main road, the alleyway is far less grand than the main thoroughfare. Arcades rise on both sides, one close to the other, leaving this narrow alleyway impassable for vehicles. It's more like a faded, aged woman, far less vibrant than a mistress kept on the sidelines, though she may have once been stunning. Walking through these alleys, a small clearing suddenly appears, hastily formed into a mini-park with a few old trees and some weeds. An elderly neighbor, doing her morning exercise, whispers to her husband and gesticulates at my nocturnal lifestyle.

Next to it stands a dark gray building, retaining its old architectural style, now looking somewhat incongruous.

My room, however, was tastelessly and crudely decorated. The walls were painted in bright colors, and the floor was covered in multicolored terrazzo. A large, suggestive bed occupied half the space, and the room reeked of smoke, alcohol, sweat, and perfume. Lying on the bed was a woman's body, her arched form resembling a boiled shrimp, and she was wearing a red dress. I tried to see her clearly in the darkness, but it was too dark; I couldn't make out her features. The only person who could have a key to my room was her—my boss, or more precisely, my agent, this woman whose name I couldn't tell if it was Zhang Yan or Zhang Yan's, or perhaps not even that.

She was my cousin's classmate. Back then, in our northern city, I had just graduated, full of ambition and ready to make my mark. But a single notice plunged me into an abyss; I was assigned to a small, impoverished county town as a middle school physical education teacher. At that time, I hesitated, unwilling to give up this hard-won job, yet also looking for opportunities to stay in the city.

My cousin called, saying she was drinking and chatting with classmates at a hotel, and asked me to come along. Since childhood, my cousin had always taken advantage of me, stealing my notebooks and tricking me out of my candy. This great opportunity might just be another trap. I counted the six hundred yuan I had left, gritted my teeth, hailed a taxi, and rushed over, feeling a bit like I was bravely going through fire and water.

She introduced me to this female classmate, I couldn't tell if it was Yan or Yan, saying she was returning from the south. She had messy but uniquely styled dark brown short hair, and wore a thin dress with two thin straps digging deep into her full shoulders. My gaze lingered on the patch of white skin on her chest, a deep cleavage highlighting the two peaks. "Is that how you look at people?"

she said confidently, looking remarkably like those Hong Kong and Taiwanese celebrities. I awkwardly looked away and turned to my cousin. She said, "We were just talking about you. Why don't you go develop your career in the South?"

That was exactly where I longed to go. My senior classmates and many of my friends were jumping in like ducks into a puddle hole, eager to go there. They came home rolling in money, acting all high and mighty, with an air of worldly wisdom and arrogance, speaking with a thick lisp and a thick Cantonese accent, as if the South were a land of gold for anyone to plunder. "What kind of work would I do in the South?"

I tried to hide my excitement and speak calmly.

"Whatever you want."

Seeing the distrust on my face, she continued, "As long as you like it, I'll do my best to arrange it for you."

"Aren't you going to thank Sister Zhang?"

My cousin chimed in,

adding fuel to the fire. "Your Sister Zhang is the vice president of a big hotel over there." Only then did I really look at her face. It was an unforgettable face. Her moist eyes shone with a captivating charm, her straight nose exuded extreme arrogance, and her full, plump lips gave off a friendly and peaceful feeling. Her face was thin and somewhat haggard.

"Why don't you go home and think about it, discuss it with your parents?"

she said, tilting her head to the side. At that moment, I didn't think my acceptance was hasty or inappropriate. Under her burning, captivating gaze, that man, especially a hot-blooded young man like me, felt his blood boiling and a surge of ambition rising from his feet to his head.

Before half the dishes had even been served, and we'd barely drunk any wine, we'd already decided on our route and time to head south

. She raised her glass to me, saying, "Just give me your ID, I'll handle the rest." She spoke with such generosity and boldness, like a female knight-errant. My cousin clicked her tongue in amazement, wishing she could join us on the flight south.

I hadn't drunk much, far from being drunk, but my heart was pounding, and in my dizziness, I found myself lingering on her, and she showed no sign of shyness or embarrassment, even puffing out her chest with a smug look.

When it came time to pay, I reached into my pocket for my wallet, but when the smiling waitress handed me the bill, my smile vanished. I felt like a defeated rooster, all my bravado dissipating. She smiled and took the bill, handing me the money and adding, "It's definitely cheaper than in the south. All this food, and it's less than a thousand yuan."

She was the one who brought me to the south, settled me in her home, and told me to call her "cousin." I was filled with countless curiosity and questions about this unfamiliar city. The next day, I explored it all on my own. It was a vibrant and magical city. I discovered many people like myself in this city, from other cities. Unlike me, they had arrived earlier, some having already settled down and thrived.

In her apartment where she lived alone, I spent several days doing nothing, eating, sleeping, and fiddling with the TV, switching channels constantly. I dared not go out; the round-trip transportation costs alone would be exorbitant, and I dared not buy anything casually. She said she was busy and sometimes didn't even go home, or if she did, it was usually in the middle of the night. But she always had a car to pick her up. At first, I thought it was a hotel car, but later I noticed the cars were sometimes different models. I understood; a woman like her in this decadent city would be unworthy if not many men followed and fawned over her.

Actually, from the first moment we met, I knew our affair was going to happen, as if some unseen force was at play. I just didn't expect it to come so quickly and so naturally.

Living in a woman's boudoir, surrounded by the scents of cosmetics and women's trinkets, it would be a lie to say I didn't have other inappropriate fantasies. Even my dreams were fragrant with all sorts of erotic scenes.

That morning, when I woke up, maybe around nine or noon—I considered it morning at the moment I woke up—I rushed to the bathroom, needing to urinate. Passing through the dining room, I found her sitting at the table, slowly drinking milk. As usual, I was shirtless, my hand instinctively covering the bulge in my crotch—a bulge I'm sure every man experiences upon waking.

I sighed and finished urinating. Just as I was squeezing toothpaste, I heard her outside the door say, "Why didn't you flush after you peed?"

I opened the door, my mouth full of foam, and said, "It was just a pee."

She pushed aside the person blocking the doorway and went in to flush the toilet, the water gushing out. Suddenly, she opened her arms and wrapped them tightly around my chest from under my armpits, her face pressed against my bare back. I could feel her rapid breaths spraying onto my skin. In the mirror on the bathroom wall, I froze comically, as if someone had pointed a gun at me.

Even her arms hung motionless, one hand holding a toothbrush and the other a water glass. Her palms first pressed against my chest, then slid down rather restlessly to my lower abdomen. Then, with a quick movement, her hand slipped inside the elastic band of my pants like a flattened leech. She immediately grasped my manhood, and as her fingers played with it wantonly, her face rubbed against my back.

With a clatter, the water glass in my hand fell to the ground. I turned to the side and pulled her close, ignoring the foam on my lips, and kissed her. My kisses were clumsy and awkward, a world apart from her nimble and lively tongue. We moved around, exploring each other's bodies, and as if by telepathy, we fell onto her bedroom bed together. Her bed was clean and soft, giving me an urge to let loose, and there was a pleasant scent mixed with perfume and sweat. I pressed her down on the bed and clumsily began to remove her clothes. My actions clearly annoyed her, and she twisted her body to cooperate with my movements, even trying to pull off my underwear. Before I could completely remove her clothes, she had already spread her legs and hooked them around my buttocks.

As I thrust my engorged member down onto her, a sense of bewildered nervousness washed over me. The thick head bounced wildly between her legs, finally being guided by her hand until it entered her already wet spot. Upon penetration, an unprecedented pleasure coursed through my body. Instinctively, I thrust, and soon I was utterly exhausted, ejaculating repeatedly. My incompetence caught her off guard; her ankles pounded the bed like drums, and she scolded me incessantly, "I wasn't ready! How could you ejaculate so quickly?" In my

panic, I pulled it out, spilling a thick stream of milky-white semen onto the sheets. I frantically searched for it, grabbing my underwear and wiping myself as if I'd committed a grave offense.

She chuckled and pointed at my nose, saying, "So you're a virgin after all. Looks like I'll have to give you a red envelope."

I stopped a little shyly and said, "I've had girlfriends before."

"You've done this before?"

she asked, still smiling, her eyes slanting upwards. I nodded, but then said deflatedly, "Before I even fully penetrated her, she cried out in pain as if she'd been stabbed."

She laughed even harder, sprawling her pale body on the bed and lifting her upper body, saying, "You guys are so silly. What woman hasn't experienced that kind of pain?"

"No, she complained that mine was too big, and kept grumbling about how we'd be together in the future,"

I stammered. Her face turned cold, and she asked, "You ungrateful wretch, breaking up over something like this?"

"Maybe it's just an excuse, I don't know."

I put my arms behind my head, slumped down heavily, and continued, "Who told us to be born in such a poor place?"

Her hands kept stroking my chest, and she kept saying, "We can't choose to be born in a poor little place, but once we leave, we won't be poor anymore."

"Hurry up and find me a job!"

I couldn't help but sit up, and seeing that I was naked, I quickly pulled the blanket over my throbbing member. She lifted the blanket, even fiddling with it, and said, "Come work as a security guard at my place for a few days first, see what you need, and I'll arrange something for you."

"What do you want me to do?"

I asked loudly, my heart sinking as if doused with ice water.

"Then what are you going to do? What can you possibly do?"

She stopped what she was doing, glared at me, and continued, "Move out of here tomorrow and move into the staff dormitory."

Her angry face was extremely unpleasant, almost ruthless. Although I was very dissatisfied, I still wrapped my arm around her bare shoulder and forced a smile, saying, "You're just kicking me out like this."

"You can't stay here forever. Besides, I have a boyfriend. Don't think that just because we're having an affair, you can be so shameless."

She stared at me intently, as if stung by something. I exclaimed in surprise, "You mean, we're having an affair—"

She giggled loudly, "So what if we're having an affair? Isn't it more exciting to play like this?"

I lowered my head, facing this incredible woman. I thought I should leave. Just as I was about to get up, she wrapped her entire body around me like an octopus. "I haven't had enough yet, and you want to leave?"

Before she could finish speaking, she suddenly had a burst of energy and flipped me onto the bed. She straddled me like a horse. I tried to struggle, but with her butterfly-like lightness, if I really exerted myself, I might just flip her over somewhere.

She tilted her head slightly, which accentuated the length of her neck. Her rounded shoulders and the thin strap of her dress that had slipped to one side revealed her pert breasts. I felt as if I were under a spell, my whole body weak and powerless. My ribs braced against the bed, my upper body half-reclined. At that moment, I saw myself in her eyes, and I realized that I had a sinister, wicked smile on my face. I buried my face between her breasts, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing my head. She whispered shyly in my ear, "Ever since we met, I've been waiting for this day. You know what? Your eyes are so expressive; the way you look at people is so alluring."

As she spoke, she became increasingly excited, her slender waist swaying like a willow in the wind. She freed one hand and groped between my legs, her full hips rubbing back and forth. Soon, she found the spot she wanted, and she swallowed it whole, moving with pleasure. At that moment, a hazy dizziness washed over me, a sudden heat rising from my lower abdomen to my head, as if engulfing me. I plunged in without hesitation.

The room, with its thick curtains, made me forget time. As if testing my sexual prowess, she relentlessly took from me. When I got out of bed, I felt an unprecedented exhaustion; my legs felt weak and my knees trembled. Turning around, I saw her sprawled out, her body purring like a cat in heat, saying, "I haven't felt this satisfied in so long."

Fearing she might retaliate again, I quickly ran into the bathroom and rinsed myself thoroughly.

A few rays of sunlight streamed in through the window, creating a warm and tranquil atmosphere, gently scattering across her body. Her back resembled a cello, unabashedly displaying the allure of a mature woman. Three years ago, when I first experienced the exquisite pleasure of this cello, I was hooked. If there had been any changes in her body over the past three years, it was only that she had become more voluptuous and sensual, and at the same time, a little tired. Not wanting to disturb her, I carefully leaned against her, picked up the remote, and turned on the television. A wave of sound, like a surging, humming current, filled the room.

I finally woke her up. She rubbed her eyes, looking like a young girl experiencing her first stirrings of passion, and asked dazedly, "What time is it?"

"It's still early."

I pressed her down, but she struggled to get up.

"I made you some ginseng chicken soup, I'll heat it up again."

She said, "No need."

I changed the TV channel to the local station, which was broadcasting the morning news. A deputy mayor was leading everyone in planting trees on a hillside. The holes had already been dug and filled with soil. When it was the deputy mayor's turn, he easily dug out the soil, looking ridiculously fake. She put the chicken soup in the microwave and saw this scene. She teased, "The deputy mayor is so agile."

Then came the TV interview. The beautiful female reporter pointed the microphone at him, and he talked eloquently about how afforestation was linked to the development of the city's economy. "This deputy mayor seems to have had dinner with us before?"

I said casually, lying back down. "Yes, her name is Wang Chuping. And that female reporter, you were so attentive to her back then, you almost hooked her up."

"No way."

Yes, if I had another chance, I'd definitely have that TV station's leading lady. Just then, she remembered something, found her phone, and dialed a number.

The room filled with the aroma of chicken soup, and then I heard her yelling into the receiver. "You're so useless, you can't even handle a middle-aged woman, you're just wasting your time, and last night you were in that guy's bed again."

She slammed the phone down angrily. "What's up, so early in the morning?"

I was still lying in bed, asking lazily. "Dongzi is so useless."

Saying that, she took a photo out of her purse and threw it at my chest. "This one, go ahead."

The photo showed a woman in her forties, with a full face and wearing frameless glasses. She looked quiet and virtuous, but behind the lenses, her narrowed eyes seemed to intentionally or unintentionally conceal a vibrant allure.

"No way, even the supposedly invincible Dongzi couldn't handle her, how could I?"

I groaned.

"Maybe you're better suited to deal with her,"

she said, sounding unsure. Seeing me casually toss the photo away, she continued, "This is a huge deal, enough to make you rich for half a year."

I retrieved the photo from the bed, pressing, "Who is she that you're so obsessed with?"

"Who cares, someone's paying for it,"

she said. I understood the rules of this business; you'd better be discreet about what you shouldn't ask, knowing too much can be detrimental. "Dongzi spent almost a week trying to get her phone number,"

she said, taking the heated chicken soup from the microwave and slamming it onto the table, some soup overflowing from the pot. Her hand was burned, and she rubbed her earlobe with her fingers. I found it amusing and said, "You always do things that are so unusual."

"Someone got burned, and you still find it funny? You're so heartless,"

she murmured sweetly, looking quite charming. I took the photo to the dining table and examined it carefully again, saying to her without turning around, "Get me a bowl."

"You're the one who's ordering me around. Let me tell you, it's only because of you that I'm willing to do this."

She brought a bowl, ladled some soup for me, and sat down next to me.

She said, "Her name is Chen Lixia, the elementary school principal."

"Have a bite too,"

I said, but my eyes remained fixed on the photo. She said, "Still not enough to look at? She's pretty, isn't she?"

"She is."

It was clear that in her youth, she was exceptionally beautiful in the photo. "I'm not very confident, so don't blame me later,"

I said, smacking my lips as I finished the chicken soup in my bowl. Chapter 2 of my PR career

(November 2nd) : Dongzi was once my idol and the goal I strived to reach. While I stood like a clumsy bear in my black security uniform guarding the entrance to the Swan Club at the hotel, he was already a prince charming, captivating the socialites and young women wherever he went. His single-door Honda Accord, his high-rise apartment by the sea—all these things filled me with longing. The first time we met, he said I looked familiar, like I'd seen him somewhere before. I was so excited I didn't know what to do, completely forgetting that our hometowns were thousands of miles apart. Back then, I wasn't as mature and worldly as I am now; I still looked like a naive and inexperienced young man, with a genuine and honest smile. Sometimes when he left, he would slip me a hundred-yuan note or two, telling me, "If you just stand here like a statue, you'll never get rich." I said, "Brother Dong, you should lead your brothers to success!" Good heavens, he was only about half a year older than me, yet I called him "brother." He patted his chest and said, "One word: following your brother won't let you suffer." That day he did drink quite a bit, and without any restraint, we started waving our familiar greetings like old friends, feeling an instant connection.

Swan Club is a members-only private club. Sister Yan, a director of the city's Women Entrepreneurs Association, had a sudden inspiration during one of the meetings: why not find a place for these successful and wealthy women to have some fun? The female entrepreneurs unanimously agreed that they should find a place for themselves to enjoy themselves, and so it gradually evolved into the glamorous club it is today.

Those who hold club membership cards are mostly either rich or powerful; it's said that each gold card was once sold for an astronomical price, and women in the city used to flaunt their cards as a status symbol, like a luxury car or rhinestones.

I stood swaggeringly at the club's entrance, wearing a uniform adorned with gold sashes and a walkie-talkie clipped to my chest, next to a sign that read: "Private Club, No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed." The club opens to members at 2 PM. The southern afternoon was unusually hot; the blazing sun shone directly down, making the asphalt road in the distance shimmer. The thick leaves of the few paulownia trees in front of the entrance gleamed white.

Pushing open the glass door reveals another world. The central air conditioning whirred, spewing out cool air, enticing you to step inside.

Usually, there aren't many customers at this time. I'd hide under the sycamore tree around the corner, take off my hat, and hang it on a nail on the trunk—probably something my ex used to do.

Unbuttoning my collar, I gasped for breath; my clothes were empty, and I was soaked to the bone. Before I could even finish my ice-cold mineral water, a woman's loud shout came from the other side of the door: "Where did she go?"

I hurriedly grabbed my peaked cap and ran out, only to see a woman lingering in front of the glass door, carrying various paper bags, plastic bags, and a purse. I opened the door for her, and a refreshing breeze immediately greeted me—incredibly pleasant. She glared at me and scolded, "You've been slacking off there! I couldn't even get in!"

"Have some water,"

I said, bowing and smiling apologetically.

As soon as we entered, her aggressive figure was reflected on the gleaming granite floor. She continued her tirade, her voice sharp and menacing: "Do you even want to work here anymore? Believe me, one word from me and you're fired!"

I eagerly leaned forward to take the large and small bags she was carrying, but she pressed her nose to her shoulder: "Get lost, you stink!"

Just then, Dongzi came out. He shoved me away and smiled at her, saying, "Ming-jie, why are you getting so angry in this heat? He's new here, don't take it to heart."

She immediately smiled back: "You just watched me get bullied. Where were you earlier?"

"We've been waiting for you, we're one short for mahjong, hurry up."

Taking the things from her, Dongzi led the way.

I hadn't gone far when she snapped at me, leaving me somewhat resentful. I stared intently at her swaying in her thin linen dress, silently vowing, "One day, my father will pin you down until you beg for mercy." "See, I was delayed because I was getting these things for you,"

she said, swaying even more enthusiastically in a seductive voice.

After moving out of Sister Yan's place, I moved into the hotel's staff dormitory. My roommate was a man named Lao Zhao. Lao Zhao wasn't much older than me, but he always had a troubled and downcast look on his face, making him appear much older. He was on sick leave, saying he had a herniated disc and was hunched over every day.

Seeing how pale and thin he looked, like a little old man, I urged him to go to the hospital for a checkup. He said it wasn't necessary, that he knew his own illness and that he would recover with rest. He had a penchant for gambling, and at night he would go to the women's dormitory behind the house to play mahjong. He usually lost more than he won, and when he came back, he would bring a bottle of wine and drink alone, sighing and lamenting.

I asked Sister Yan if Old Zhao's illness was contagious. She said no, it was just some kidney deficiency, and he wouldn't listen to her advice to go home and rest. She spoke of it casually, saying that Old Zhao was a founding father here, and he had ruined himself by drinking, staying up all night, and gambling. As she said this, we lay side by side on the bed. The recent blissful infatuation had stirred her tenderness. Her head was resting on my chest, half of her body pressed tightly against mine, and one of her snow-white thighs wrapped around my waist. The room was quiet, and the dim yellow lamplight cast a golden glow on her naked body like mercury. The bed was a mess, half of the snow-white sheet draped to the floor, and the bright red wool carpet was covered with clothes that had been carelessly thrown around—her stockings, bra, and panties, resembling the debris on a beach after the tide had receded.

She would see me every week or two, and sometimes I would spend the night in her boudoir. I had secretly observed that she didn't have a particularly close boyfriend, although she wasn't lacking in male companionship.

She was voluptuous with fair skin, and we seemed like a match made in heaven. From her, I experienced the pleasure and joy between a man and a woman. Her genitals were like a ripe peach, easily accepting me. Before this, I had always felt ashamed of my own manhood, stemming from my short-lived relationship. I always thought my large head was abnormal and laughed at my own insecurity.

I felt completely at ease with her, constantly trying positions I'd seen in books, pornography, or heard about. I felt that this was all there was to sweet love and a happy marriage, even though she was much older than me. "Are you just going to make me stay a security guard like this forever?"

I asked, my hand caressing her ample buttocks.

"What? If you don't want to do it, what else will you do?"

She stopped scratching my chest. “Why would I come all this way for just a few hundred yuan a month?”

I moved the half of her body that was pressed against mine away and straightened up. She wasn’t angry; instead, she laughed and said with a smirk, “You think you can be like Dongzi and the others all of a sudden? Do you know what they do?”

“Isn’t it just playing cards, drinking, and chatting with guests?”

I said. She moved her body from the other end of the pillow, kissed my cheek with her full lips, and said softly, “You’ll understand after a while.”

As she spoke, her hands began to grope my body inappropriately. I knew what she wanted, so I rolled over and pinned her down. She giggled and said, “You have no romance at all; you just know how to be brute.”

Her body swayed happily beneath me, and my lower body pressed tightly against hers. Now I knew to be patient and gentle, waiting until she couldn’t take it anymore before I started moving vigorously.

Her eyes were slightly closed, and I noticed her long eyelashes. Her lips were parted, and her nostrils trembled nervously. She looked as serene and peaceful as a baby, evoking boundless tenderness.

She slowly savored the experience, like a rock standing on the beach awaiting a storm. The wind whipped up the storm, the rain lashed down, and the turbulent waves surged and crashed. She couldn't stay still; her body swayed joyfully, her two alluring legs intertwined and opened and closed. My body surged against her like waves, and at first she tried to resist, arching her hips to meet me. But with each frenzied thrust, she completely collapsed. She gave up resisting, letting me ride her. Finally, I released my passion, and she, too, achieved her desired satisfaction.

As if after a long journey, we both looked at each other, panting, the burning atmosphere on the bed now calm. "How are you feeling?"

I asked with a touch of masculine pride. Fine beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. She tilted her head back and said, "Like a bull."

As she spoke, the sweat dripped down, some splashing onto my chest. I grabbed her snow-white body and said, "You think you're a bullfighter?"

She laughed heartily, then suddenly stopped me, saying, "Don't move." Puzzled,

I withdrew my hands, only to see her covering her genitals with one hand, thick, milky-white semen seeping from between her fingers. She said coquettishly, "Look at this evidence of your crimes."

A chill ran through me; how could I have forgotten this? "I'll take responsibility,"

I said passionately, as if making a vow. "How will you take responsibility?"

she asked, pursing her lips. I raised a hand, palm facing her, and said, "If I get pregnant, I'll marry you."

"Are you stupid?"

she laughed, then slumped onto the bed, her voice broken. "You think I'd marry you?"

"If you don't marry me, why would I do this with you?"

I asked naively, completely unprepared for this sudden turn of events, feeling as if I'd fallen into an abyss. She laughed and pointed at my nose, saying, "Don't overthink it. You need me, and I need you, that's all."

"You mean I'm not good enough for you? I'm a college student, after all."

My insides burned, and my voice softened, lacking confidence.

"No one says you're not good enough, but you and I...it's impossible."

She hugged the large white cotton pillow, covering her breasts, her voice rising, her smile seemingly frozen.

Seeing me slumped over like a defeated rooster, she gently stroked my hair, her voice softening considerably: "I never thought there were such sentimental handsome guys in this world. Okay, go take a shower."

Her bedroom had a bathroom, just a few steps from the bed. I felt unsteady on the carpet, and as I stepped into the shower, letting the rain-like water wash over me, I wept for my betrayed feelings.

In the following days, I was somewhat restless, and she seemed to sense this, intentionally or unintentionally avoiding my gaze. As time passed, I understood. For someone like me, living alone far from home, it's easy to easily invest emotions in the first person who generously helps you, falling in love at first sight, harboring feelings of affection, even having foolish thoughts like being unable to repay kindness or offering yourself in return. The southern summer was still unbearably hot; even at night, the air seemed to solidify, easily making one irritable and restless. The moon, like a large, round plate, hung high in the sky, coldly observing the masses.

A brand-new BMW sped towards me, screeching to a halt right in front of me. The door opened, and a man tumbled out – it was Old Zhao. The woman inside snapped at me angrily, "Go get Zhang Yan!"

Before I could ask what was going on, Old Zhao grabbed my shirt, then pressed his face against the window, flattering me, "The boss'll be here soon."

We weren't allowed to come and go without a reason, so I used the walkie-talkie to call inside. A moment later, Zhang Yan emerged.

Before she even reached the car, the woman inside started yelling. "Zhang Yan, you gave me this piece of trash for a few thousand yuan? All night just using your hands and mouth, and he can't even get hard, it's like a cotton wick!"

"Chairman Zou, calm down, let's talk inside,"

Zhang Yan said, taking small steps forward and opening the car door for her. Normally, no one in this area would dare to act so brazenly and rudely, like a shrew, but Zhang Yan merely shook her head slightly at the woman's ill-mannered behavior and immediately greeted her with a beaming smile. The woman who got out of the car was disheveled, her long hair flying wildly, and a pair of sagging, plump white breasts could be seen through her open collar. As soon as she got out of the car, she bombarded Zhang Yan with questions: "Am I unable to afford the price, or are you looking down on me? The one you hired last time was quite large too."

Zhang Yan grabbed her shoulders and pulled her inside, saying in her ear as they walked, "I told you to come by yourself, but you wouldn't listen. Now, you

can choose for yourself." "I'm paying to have fun, so don't try to fool me. You won't hold back when it comes to collecting the money."

Seemingly calmer, their shadows stretched long in the moonlight. Old Zhao, having wrapped the woman's underwear and bra into a ball, followed behind them, his buttocks trembling.

The bright moonlight was gradually obscured by the haze, and this high-class entertainment venue, veiled in a veil of grandeur, began to reveal its true, unsettling nature. A moment later, the woman called Director Zou emerged, arm in arm with Ah Jie. Looking smug, she seemed to have completely forgotten her earlier unpleasantness. The two lingered, rubbing against each other, their intimacy bordering on sickening. Old Zhao followed them out, and only after they got into their car and drove away did he spit a thick wad of phlegm at the departing BMW. At that moment, my head was buzzing, and a kaleidoscope of images flashed before my eyes. I seemed to understand, yet I couldn't quite believe it.

"See? You saw it all, didn't you? A man can't be down on his luck,"

Old Zhao said, unusually agitated and agitated. His neck was stiff, his hands flailing nervously, and he cursed, venting a heart-wrenching complaint about life and his unfortunate fate. I replied, "Who is this person, so arrogant?"

"A fishmonger, the damn guy still reeks of fish."

Old Zhao said to himself, "Isn't it just because he has a few stinking coins in his pocket? And he's being so picky."

"Old Zhao, are you charging her?"

I asked, mustering my courage. He raised his chin, "Of course I'm charging her. Who here doesn't charge? Is there such a thing as a free lunch?"

"That would make me like a prostitute,"

I said softly.

He laughed, "Are you really that clueless, kid, or are you just pretending?"

After laughing, he looked me over seriously and continued, "You think you're not? Zhang Yan wouldn't be so generous as to airlift you all the way here. Kid, I can tell you're in this line of work with just one look. It won't be long before you're in it too."

I felt as if I'd been struck in a vital spot; my blood rushed, and goosebumps rose on my skin.

That night, I lay awake all night, contemplating how to go on. Should I return to the northern city, to that impoverished, backward mountain village, and become a teacher, like an unknown blade of grass rooted in the remote wilderness, left to grow and wither on its own, eventually rotting in the soil and becoming nourishment for other plants? Or should I go home? The image of my mother, exhausted from her daily trips to the market, flashed before my eyes; the scene of my father beating me mercilessly for spending three hundred yuan on a pair of sneakers remained vivid. This is a pragmatic society. With money, you're the boss; with money, you have dignity. Money is the master, and people are the slaves of money. So what if you're a college graduate? Even with a prestigious degree, it's useless without financial backing. You can't even compare to Dongzi and his friends.

A few years passed in the blink of an eye, but those events felt like yesterday. Over the years, our relationship has been like a game of hide-and-seek, a constant game of cat and mouse, never quite finding each other. Now, in her eyes, I'm like an invincible, detached, and otherworldly iron man, while she pretends not to care, continuing her own ways, spending her days among those men and women, acting foolish and ruthless, and seizing any opportunity to make a quick buck. Seeing that I had finished my chicken soup, she started clearing the table, asking, "Where's your apron?"

"I don't know, haven't seen it for days,"

I said, without moving. She took off her coat, revealing a black bra underneath, and her smooth, rounded shoulders.

She took the bowls and chopsticks into the kitchen and washed up by the sink. I leaned against the doorway, facing her almost naked back; a few black straps accentuated her sculpted body. I said, "Does that elementary school principal go to the Swan Club too?"

"She has a gold card, but she rarely shows up."

"How did Dongzi manage to get in?"

I asked with interest. She stopped what she was doing and turned around, saying, "She comes to my place to play cards on weekends."

"The house is too big, the bed curtains are too cold, and she's a woman confined to her room. I know what this kind of woman needs."

I laughed out loud, noticing that her lace bra was too small, barely covering her nipples, leaving most of her snow-white breasts exposed, trembling and quivering, as if they would break free and emerge at the slightest movement.

"Don't get cocky, she's not that kind of person."

Seeing my fingers reaching for her chest, my hand wet and greasy, she could only twist and turn, trying to escape. Finally, I got my way; my fingers slipped inside her bra, kneading that slightly protruding nipple. As if electrocuted, her body stiffened. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. I wanted to tease her further, but suddenly, she pulled away and said, "You're too tired, don't. Rest and recharge. I'm counting on you to make your move this weekend." (

Public Relations Career Chapter 3)

As agreed beforehand, I deliberately arrived at Zhang Yan's apartment almost an hour late. The card game had already started and was set up in the dining room. The dining table had been replaced with a mahjong table, and a spotlight hung above it, its intense light illuminating everything bright and dazzling. Clearly, Zhang Yan had planned this in advance. The other three people at the table were all unfamiliar faces.

"This is my cousin,"

Zhang Yan introduced him to me after leading me inside. I nodded to them. Opposite me was Chen Lixia. Under the harsh light, her lightly made-up face was still smooth and delicate, her thin lips painted a glossy, luscious red. She only glanced at my greeting casually; her eyes behind her glasses were large and round, but they only flashed briefly before dimming again.

The player to my left was a short, stout, and bloated old man with a ruddy complexion and a friendly smile. He picked up the cards slowly and calmly. The middle-aged man to my right had slicked-back hair and a sharp glint in his eyes, scanning the faces of everyone at the table after each card he played.

I moved a chair behind Lixia to watch the game. She wore a sleeveless white blouse and a dark red long skirt, looking elegant and serene. Her bare arms were snow-white, and when she stretched out to the center of the table, I could vaguely see sparse hair under her armpits. She was clearly a novice; her card-handling was clumsy. She would flip the cards in front of her, either keeping them or playing them. Noticing someone watching her, she became even more nervous, hesitating over a card in her hand, wanting to play it but not daring to. She would then play another card, and Zhang Yan across from her would swoop down her hand and win. "That's terrible,"

I deliberately provoked her. She glared at me, a hint of anger in her eyes.

They started over, several hands rubbing the cards together with a clatter, the diamond ring in their hands sparkling. I pretended to be very tactful and walked away, strolling behind Zhang Yan. I saw her breasts heaving, the light and shadow highlighting their fullness and abundance. A few cards passed, and she became even more cautious, following the lead of the player before her. But she happened to draw the Red Dragon. Before playing it, she glanced at the central pile of cards. Seeing the Red Dragon just played by the player opposite her, she gently pushed her card out. But then, the old man before her had played a single card, and now she had another winning hand, this time with a higher score. Afraid I would laugh at her again, a hint of panic flashed in her eyes. She glanced at me, her face flushing and paling, and said self-deprecatingly, "It was just played, I was just following."

She opened the drawer; the chips inside were almost gone, almost empty.

"How about we let Alan take over and win back what we lost?"

Zhang Yan said opportunely. She hesitated for a moment, but reluctantly stood up. I went over to her and said, "Just sit down and watch, take a break."

"I just learned, I'm not very good at it."

She sat down in the chair I had just been sitting in and picked up her cup. Luckily, she won a hand right after sitting down, making her so happy that she danced around and even got up to collect the chips.

Her body was close to mine, and she smelled wonderfully fragrant. We played a few more rounds, and Zhang Yan deliberately let me win, playing cards she shouldn't have. She's a very frugal person, and it was clear that she was really willing to risk her money for this deal. I pressed my advantage and won a few more rounds.

Seeing that I had won back her losses, she was overjoyed and praised me repeatedly. The slick-haired middle-aged man noticed this and pushed away his tiles, saying he was done playing and we should call it a day. Lixia, still somewhat unwilling and with lingering excitement, said, "It's over so early."

The fat old man echoed, "That's enough, you guys are having a good time, come back another time."

"A wise person knows when to yield,"

I said with a touch of melancholy. After settling the chips and paying the bill, Zhang Yan, seeing that she had made a slight profit, smiled and said to her, "You have to treat me, my cousin helped you win back your losses."

"No, I don't have the habit of eating late-night snacks,"

she said. As she bent over to put on her shoes, I saw her full waist sag softly. I didn't expect this middle-aged woman to be so flexible; she must exercise regularly.

She put her shoes on properly, smiled at us, and said, "You guys go ahead, it's on me. Just let me know how much it costs."

"Sister Xia seems worried about gaining weight,"

I tried to provoke her, but she didn't fall for it, calmly saying, "Oh, I don't care about gaining weight."

"Let Alan give you a ride,"

Zhang Yan suggested, but she shook her head and said, "No, you give me a ride."

"Then I'll hitch a ride,"

I said. She gave me a sidelong glance, a hint of disdain in her eyes, which I pretended not to notice.

Coming out of the building, a few neon lights flickered with warm light, forlornly illuminating the lawn along the path. Zhang Yan went to the garage to get her car. I looked for an opportunity to strike up a conversation with her, but she walked away alone. At that moment, she looked like an elegant crane that had spotted a toad crawling in front of it, her neck stiff, nostrils flared, picking leaves from the holly bushes across the road. Zhang Yan's car pulled up, and she gathered the leaves, twisted them into a handful, and tossed them aside. She clapped her hands, opened the car door, and took the front seat all to herself. I opened the other door as well, giving her a knowing smile at her affected avoidance.

After dropping her off at home, Zhang Yan abruptly turned the car around. She said, "It's hopeless, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily,"

I said confidently. As the car sped through the quiet street, her eyes were fixed straight ahead. She said, "Didn't you see her icy expression?"

"Why put on such a distant act? It doesn't make sense,"

I said with a smile. She suddenly turned the steering wheel, the car swerved sharply, and I swayed slightly with it.

"That's strange, she wasn't like this before."

She continued, "You really know your stuff when it comes to women now."

"I hear a hint of sourness in your voice,"

I teased. She smiled broadly, "Come on, don't be silly. Do you think I'm still at the age where I can be easily fooled? Don't play those extravagant romantic games; love can kill."

I shook my head and smiled back, not finding any hint of jealousy in her words. And rightly so, there was no jealousy to speak of. This world has truly gone mad. Don't even think about stealing my heart, and I won't steal yours. Lend me your body, take your heart back—it's that simple, and we can live in peace.

Dongzi said he'd felt I looked familiar for a long time, and this wasn't just a baseless rumor. That day, he suddenly said to me, "I've seen your picture, taken at the Great Wall."

This truly surprised me. Near graduation, I'd been to Beijing with classmates and taken pictures at the Great Wall, posing like heroes. Later, he said with certainty, "That's right, I saw it at Zhang Yan's place, before you came."

I understood. My cousin had gotten the photo from me and then sent it to Zhang Yan. So, Zhang Yan's journey from going home to bringing me here was all premeditated. She and my cousin had long ago woven a net, and I had unwittingly fallen into it. I couldn't help but gasp. At the same time, I had to look at this woman with new respect.

At that time, I was in a desperate situation, desperately hoping for a lucky break. My security guard salary was barely enough to cover my living expenses. My dad would call every time he asked for money, and our old house was slated for demolition, requiring a considerable sum for a new one. Luckily, I had a day off, and Dongzi insisted on dragging me out for dinner. We walked through a small alley next to the big hotel, where rows of brightly lit food stalls filled the sidewalk, teeming with people.

Under the bright lights of the seafood restaurant, fish, turtles, crabs, and shrimp swam in glass tanks, their scales shimmering and translucent, with air pipes causing bubbles to rise to the surface.

We found a relatively quiet table. The surrounding lights seemed to have grown weary, and my heart felt heavy, as if something had been pressing down on it. "Well, since we're here, let's take a gamble,"

he said, waving his hand and rinsing the cups, bowls, and chopsticks on the table with boiling water, gesturing for me to give him my portion. The crowd thronged, speaking loudly in Cantonese, the cries of vendors and the sizzling of oil mingling together to create a cacophony of sound. That invisible force continued to emanate from all directions, from the sky to the ground, from the streets and shops, rising and swirling, growing denser and heavier, tightly enveloping my body.

Before the food arrived, he handed me a full glass of beer. By then, we had established a deep personal friendship, and he considered me a confidant. "What are you doing tonight after resting?"

"Nothing, going to bed early,"

I replied, taking a sip of the ice-cold beer to cool the heat in my heart. “Find some work,”

he said. I raised my glass to my lips, then stopped. “What can I do? Anyone playing ball? I can fill in.”

“You, what a waste of that physique,”

he said, downing his drink in one gulp. As if he had made up his mind, he said, word by word, “Would you fill in for me?”

“Of course I would, why wouldn’t I?”

A youthful, untamed spirit filled my mind.

“Alright, I’ll introduce you to a client tonight,”

he said, clinking his glass against mine. I hesitated. “Tonight? That’s too soon. I’m not ready.”

“What’s there to prepare? Don’t you know how to do that?”

He laughed heartily, patting my shoulder hard. “Don’t worry, the women in our area are all eager for men to call them. These women are bold and wild; after just a few drinks, they’re already itching to sleep with you. Their desire to have sex with you is no different than choosing a fashionable dress in a boutique.”

Dongzi drank heartily and became more talkative. I talked to him about women, making money, and the city. Our faces, bathed in the dim light of the streetlights, lingered, offering endless critiques, yet always with a hint of regret. He told me about his experiences, his initial confusion when he first arrived. I listened to him speak casually, softly, and logically, like a child listening to a myth, believing yet not entirely.

It was late at night when Dongzi handed me a hotel room key, saying, "Go quickly, someone's waiting inside."

I took the key, weighing it in my hand. Dongzi said, "Completely abandon your pride, just do what needs to be done."

I gripped the key tightly; with it, perhaps my gloomy days would finally end.

Entering the hotel's high-speed elevator, I found it empty, the green indicator light flashing rapidly, creating a dizzying, cloud-like feeling in the silence.

Stepping out of the elevator, the receptionist at the floor counter kept glancing at me. I didn't know what was wrong, so I looked myself over again. I noticed my newly bought designer t-shirt, loose white trousers, and designer sneakers—all things Dongzi had spent a considerable amount of money on. I waved the key in my hand at her, feeling uneasy at her overly attentive probing, a vague sense of frustration at my initial setback.

I knocked on the door, and despite having the key, a crisp, emotionless voice from inside said, "Come in."

Pushing the door open, the voice returned in its usual businesslike tone: "Please close the door."

A woman lay on the bed, half-hidden like a crescent moon, wearing a sheer white robe. She put down the documents she was reading, a faint smile playing on her lips, not even a slight twitch at the corner of her eye. "Hello, my name is Alan."

I wanted to extend my hand, but faced with her two round, snow-white arms, their flesh trembling as they were exposed, her almost naked body exuding such allure, I dared not approach her.

"Go take a shower,"

she said, getting up to hand me a bathrobe from the wardrobe. I wanted to say I had just showered, but the words stuck in my throat. I took the bathrobe and fled into the bathroom.

"Look at you, even wearing your outer clothes inside! Don't get wet. Here,"

she relentlessly pursued me. I had no choice but to take off my clothes in front of her. As I handed them to her, I dared not look her in the eye; she seemed familiar, though I wasn't sure if I'd been to the same club before. A torrent of water drenched my face, and my wildly beating heart seemed to calm down. Using the water droplets on my face, I opened my eyes to examine her. She stood in the middle of the bathroom doorway, her curvaceous body, like a jade sculpture, encased in a thin nightgown, only a red triangle pulled down from her thighs, covering her legs.

Suddenly, I felt a surge of heat between my legs, and in an instant, my erection became like a towering pillar. At the same time, I noticed a flicker of fire burning in her eyes, her tongue rapidly licking her dry lips, and her nostrils flaring with restless breaths. She walked towards me step by step, throwing herself under the pouring water. I stood frozen, my mind blank, and then she suddenly threw herself into my arms.

We embraced amidst the falling water droplets, I letting her caress and scrutinize me. Clearly, my nakedness, my strong, taut muscles excited her; her trembling hands and legs shook even more violently.

Her gaze, her fingers stroking me, in turn fueled her caresses, until her hands, after a long, slow journey from my chest to my lower abdomen, began to pant heavily with excitement. The water cascaded down like a torrential downpour, droplets splashing and scattering over her body. Her white robe was soaked, clinging to her undulating form like transparent tape. And her fully erect breasts, like a pair of angry, raised, snow-white rabbits, their hardened nipples standing motionless, silent, and indifferent amidst a white cloud.

Her body slid limply off me, her knees sinking to the ground. Her cheek pressed tightly against my lower abdomen, first gently, like a dragonfly skimming the water, her lips barely touching the surface, then pressing her lips more passionately, each kiss growing stronger, a frenzied kiss. Her hands gripped my strong thighs, and suddenly she opened her mouth wide, quickly taking my large member into her mouth. I had never experienced such a sensual scene before, and I cried out in surprise, "Ah!" stopping not only her eager exploration of her tongue but also her tireless, ardent hands.

I then gently lifted her limp body and laid her on the bed like a sleeping baby, the wet silhouette of her figure starkly imprinted on the white sheets. I began to undress her, and as her clothes fell away, my hands began to caress her body, from her rounded shoulders, her proudly erect breasts, her flat stomach, to that mysterious and deep place.

Her body writhed and curled restlessly, like a live fish placed on a grill.

I stood by the bed, my throbbing erection aimed at her. She seemed somewhat afraid, pressing her hands against my abdomen, yet her eyes held boundless anticipation. My erection slowly slid in, into a warm, moist, slippery place. I thrust involuntarily; she felt some discomfort at first, but gradually became more aroused, her hands supporting my abdomen falling away, allowing me to increase the intensity of my thrusts.

As I slammed down on her, she groaned with pleasure, the sound rising from a low, muffled tone to a high pitch, from slow to rapid, her moans interspersed with indistinct murmurs, until the sounds caused her trembling body to spin like a machine, shaking and quivering on the bed under my thrusts.

Her cries were like a spell, fueling my desire, waves of passion surging within me, flowing and searching for release. My hands pressed against her smooth shoulders, my body expanding and contracting like a bowstring, the room becoming unbearably hot. Drops of water or sweat from my hair fell onto her fair skin, her moans turning into ecstatic cries, a sound like weeping, like water rushing and surging through a dam.

I exploded inside her. As all my passion poured out, her hand, which had been tightly gripping my forearm, loosened and fell heavily onto the bed, like two ropes dangling limply. Her previously incessant, vibrant moans abruptly ceased. At that moment, what was inside her, as if its power had been cut off, lost its force and also stopped abruptly. (

Public Relations Career Chapter 4)

She finally opened her eyes as if waking from a dream. She propped herself up on her ribs, gazing at my face with tender affection, gently stroking my hair with her hand. Then, starting from my hair, forehead, nose, lips, and chin, she kissed and kissed me from top to bottom. The snow-white sheets on the bed were sticky and wrinkled, and the pillowcase was damp and uncomfortable. In fact, neither of us was completely dry; a lock of hair clung to her forehead, and the rest of her hair was a tangled mess like a pile of weeds. Her hair, disheveled and damp, draped haphazardly over her pale, bluish shoulders, resembling strands of fine black steel wire, standing silently in the lamplight. Her face remained fair and delicate, yet that delicate whiteness, like her shoulders, was tinged with a faint bluish tinge.

She kissed and licked me wildly, her tongue and red lips constantly at work. Never before had a woman caressed me so passionately; I completely forgot my duty, as if our roles had been reversed.

As if intentionally or unintentionally, her rabbit-like breasts kept swaying in front of my face, white as if sprinkled with powder, emanating a fragrance as strong as freshly squeezed milk.

Her nipples, like bewitching, burning red eyes, blinked at me. I licked them with my tongue, but they darted away as if playing hide-and-seek, forcing me to catch them with my hands—so soft, like clusters of pink brocade.

As I suckled alternately on her breasts like a hungry child, she tilted her head back, lowered her eyes, furrowed her brows, and swayed her body urgently from side to side, like a cobra enslaved by a magic flute, dancing involuntarily in agony, as if she were about to disintegrate. I sucked, devoured, and teased her wantonly, as if my lips wanted to remain there forever, to take root and sprout, until her hands reminded me of something on my body, and I reluctantly and lingered.

She grasped my erection, straddled me like a horse, and easily swallowed it. Then she began to dance wildly, her body rising and falling, her waist swaying softly, her hips bouncing joyfully. Finally, exhausted, she gasped for breath, her nose flaring heavily like an ox, and half-thrown herself onto me like a sack of flour.

I don't know when she left. When I opened my eyes, the room seemed to be back to normal. The bed didn't look too messy, and my clothes were neatly folded and placed on the chair. When I returned from the bathroom, I found some papers that had fallen under the bed. Picking them up, I realized it was a customs declaration for exported clothing. I remembered her leaning against the bed looking at documents when I first came in last night; perhaps that's when she dropped them. I have a rudimentary understanding of English, but I treat printed English with utmost respect. Unlike official documents or stamps, which I can ignore, I know foreigners are always meticulous. If I'm late, a deal might fall through. While getting dressed, I found a wad of cash in my pocket. I counted ten hundred-yuan bills—she must have secretly put them there. This money was a significant sum for me, like a lifeline.

This person seemed alright, but I didn't even know her name, let alone her phone number or address. How was I supposed to retrieve her lost belongings? I dialed Dongzi's cell phone, but it was off. He definitely hadn't gotten up yet, and he was probably surrounded by women. Leaving the hotel, the streets were already bustling. The morning sun shone on the busy people; the weariness of last night lingered, and many had bags under their eyes. Seeing that Zhang Yan's apartment wasn't far, I figured I had no choice but to ask her for help. I rang the doorbell, and after a long pause, she opened the door, still sleepy, yawning as she asked, "Why are you here?"

Clearly, she didn't intend to let me in. I held up a bouquet of flowers high outside the iron gate, and only then did she open the outer gate. I followed her into the living room, where I noticed the vase that had been there was now filled with a cluster of blooming roses. She closed the bedroom door somewhat hastily. I noticed a pair of men's shoes in the shoe cabinet by the door. I casually tossed the bouquet I had brought onto the table.

"You're here so early, not to ask for your payment, are you?"

she said coldly, clearly Dongzi had already told her what I had done last night. No, I had told her about the customs declaration and the thousand yuan in my pocket. "That was a tip from her. As for last night's payment, I'll pay you monthly."

She shifted on the sofa, her neckline low, revealing a glimpse of her white breasts, and continued, "She wanted to meet you alone a few days ago, but I didn't agree. I didn't expect she bribed Dongzi."

I was used to her indifferent attitude, just like in her office at the club. I poured myself a glass of water and tried to calm myself down. "I want to make money as soon as possible."

"Since you've entered this circle, you should know what it means. But you should also understand that this is something you wanted to do yourself,"

she rambled on. "Originally, I was supposed to be responsible for your cousin. Bringing you out into this line of work, I can't face your cousin

now." I'd already experienced her two-faced tactics of being a prostitute while pretending to be virtuous, and I was getting annoyed by her nagging.

"Of course, I did it voluntarily, it has nothing to do with you,"

I said. Is it really that serious? It's not like I've jumped into a fire pit. I don't want to miss this opportunity; once things settle down, there will be peace. This city is overflowing with money, the streets are full of rich people. Money here is like waste paper; making money is as easy as shoveling garbage onto the street.

As for people like me, I constantly yearn to rise above others. In an era without medals, my young heart desperately needs to be adorned with copper coins. I don't know where my inexplicable anger came from. She clearly wanted to end this boring conversation as soon as possible, so she quickly tore off a piece of paper, wrote something, and handed it to me, saying, "Send it to this address. If you can't find it, call her number."

I took the paper and left without looking back. The sun outside was getting stronger, burning my skin, and soon I was drenched in sweat. Taking the subway from the city center, I soon arrived in the suburbs, a newly developed area. The city was slowly encroaching, and a new avenue had opened up, destined to open in all directions, squeezing out the narrow villages. Soon, a torrent of cars and people would surge in.

Following the address, I easily found the woman's company from last night. To my surprise, it was such a large factory area, a well-known evening gown production base. It was during working hours, and the factory was quiet, with only the occasional vehicle entering or leaving. The security guard asked me politely, "What do you need?"

I said I was looking for Ye Xiaoru. He seemed a little skeptical, so I took out the notepad, afraid that Zhang Yan's chicken-claw-like handwriting might have written too little or too much. He still questioned me repeatedly with a wary look, "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"

I said with certainty, "I am Ye Xiaoru."

I showed him the phone number on the note.

I dialed their internal line, and he said, "Someone wants to see General Manager Ye."

The other end replied, "He's busy right now; General Manager Ye is in a meeting."

I hurriedly handed him the customs declaration form, explaining that I was delivering something important.

He explained again to the person on the other end of the line, and only then did they agree. Then, he had me register and put on my visitor's badge before pointing to a large building in front of us, saying, "It's on the fifth floor."

I nodded my thanks, my smile carrying a sense of camaraderie with a colleague, even though his attire was simpler than mine; after all, I was doing the same job.

The factory area was laid out in a staggered yet secluded manner, with rows of simple yet massive buildings separating strictly geometric flowerbeds, creating an atmosphere of grandeur and magnificence. The conference room on the fifth floor had a glass wall, allowing a clear view of everyone inside and out. My bewildered appearance clearly surprised her. She sat in the center of the conference table, her face dignified and serious, a stark contrast to the alluring young woman of the previous night.

She hurriedly left her seat, knocking a stack of documents to the floor as she rose. Her steps were unsteady, as if someone were whipping her.

She led me to her office, slamming the door shut behind her, and then angrily demanded, "How did you find your way here? What do you want?"

"You left something behind. I didn't know if it was important, so I brought it to you,"

I protested. She paced back and forth behind her desk, then adopted a defiant stance, saying, "You can't come here. I paid for it. We have nothing to do with each other anymore."

"I know, don't worry, I'm not what you think."

I understood the unspoken meaning in her words. I slammed the customs declaration form on the table and turned to leave. "Wait a minute,"

she called to me, taking out another wad of cash from her drawer. "I'll give you this again, but you can't come looking for me again."

I left her office without looking back, utterly ashamed. I'd come with such enthusiasm, only to be chased away like a scoundrel. I felt like a thief caught red-handed, fleeing her factory in a panic.

Thinking back, I was so fragile then, my nerves as sensitive as a clam, closing at the slightest touch. Just as Zhang Yan said, my condition at that time was completely unsuitable for this line of work. I didn't have the ability to earn big money and become a top star; it sounded like the entertainment industry launching a pop star with great fanfare. All I had were a pair of melancholic eyes and a youthful physique. Those eyes were dreamlike, enough to evoke maternal instincts in women like Ye Xiaoru. For women like her, everything men had fought for and created years ago had faded, losing all its allure. Leaving aside the unspeakable suffering of being trapped in a marriage, the most fatal flaw was the pent-up, burning passion within them, a passion they desperately needed an outlet for. Zhang Yan's club provided just such an opportunity; otherwise, how would they fill their remaining youth?

"Actually, I know very well what you do, including that Dongzi from before. The men under Zhang Yan are all cut from the same cloth,"

Chen Lixia told me. Two years ago, I would have run away after hearing her words, but now I didn't even blush. Two years is enough time to change a person. The world changes, the old looks are replaced by the new. The city has added several more overpasses, and countless skyscrapers have sprung up. I, too, now have long hair that flies in the wind. I waited at her school gate, pretending to bump into her unexpectedly. It was dismissal time, and the slanting sunset was blocked by the buildings on both sides, creating patches of light and shadow on the street, like a magician drawing countless squares on the ground. The sidewalk was crowded with people, students leaving school and parents picking up their children.

"So, you've enjoyed our club's services?"

I asked. To avoid causing unnecessary congestion, we walked side-by-side with the throng. She was wearing a short-sleeved suit, long pants instead of a skirt, and I couldn't help but admire her. She was clearly a person of refinement and good manners; her speech and behavior possessed a unique charm that most people lacked. "Zhang Yan gave me a gold card a long time ago, but I rarely go; it doesn't look good,"

she said casually. As we walked, the crowd thinned out, and she stopped, saying, "Alright, I won't waste my breath arguing with you; I have things to do."

"I'm just bored. Where are you going to exercise?"

I asked, noticing her gym bag. "Let me guess, you go to the gym."

"You hit the nail on the head! How did you guess?"

she asked, somewhat surprised. I replied casually, "Your physique has undergone rigorous physical training."

"You can tell that?"

she said excitedly, beaming with pride. “Others might not be able to tell, but I’m a genuine graduate of the sports academy,”

I said, then pressed my advantage, “Why don’t you let me give you some pointers? I’m just as good as your personal trainer.”

“She’s not a professional either,”

she said, sounding unsure. I said, “Then you should definitely let me give you some pointers.”

While she was still hesitating, I took her shoulder bag. “Let’s go.”

I linked my arm with hers and we started walking. She pointed across the street, “That way.”

After crossing the street, we found a gym in an inconspicuous building. The equipment was rudimentary, the machines were old, and the ventilation was poor. Stepping inside, the air was thick with the smells of sweat, cigarette smoke, body odor, and women’s perfume. “Make yourself at home,”

she said, then grabbed her bag and headed towards the changing room. In the middle of the room, a red carpet covered the floor. Some parts of the carpet were worn and faded, and several had holes chewed out by rats.

A dozen or so women, following a female instructor's commands, were energetically swinging their legs, twisting their waists, swaying their hips

, and shrugging their shoulders, performing aerobics. Opposite them was a mirrored wall. A moment later, she emerged from the changing room, her long hair loosely tied back with a hair clip. Her body, encased in a blue and white workout outfit, revealed a shapely figure that seemed about to collapse. She quickly blended into the group of women, also dressed in revealing clothing, leaping about with her long arms and legs, like a clumsy bear stealing berries from the south, tucking one under her left arm, then another under her right, repeating the same movement endlessly. My appearance carried a captivating and sexy air, enough to arouse the interest of women her age. They smiled charmingly, their beautiful eyes sparkling, and tried their best to twist their bodies like snakes.

I leaned against an exercise machine, my tall, graceful posture exuding a relaxed and indifferent air. I toyed with a bottle of mineral water in my hand, a faint smile playing on my tightly pursed lips, appearing provocative and confident. Seizing a brief break, she came up to me, took the water from my hand, and gulped it down. Sweat clung to her bare back, glistening under the light.

"How was it? Did you do well?"

she asked, wiping her sweat with a white towel, trying to get as close to me as possible, a foolish smugness on her face. "Not so good,"

I scoffed dismissively. I knew all about her little tricks. A woman surrounded by a large group of women—her psychology must have subtly changed, especially with a group of her kind, like withered flowers in their final, fleeting beauty.

"Then tell me how to train. You've come here specifically to instruct me, haven't you?"

She tossed me the towel with satisfaction. I listened with a smile, gesturing and seemingly discussing things with her, occasionally adding intimate touches to certain parts of my body. I felt she was putting on a show for the women around her. Their instructor clapped and called her back. In the line, she tilted her head slightly, swaying her hips gently, dancing with unhurried grace. A woman's vanity, like a parasite, always sprouts from the weakest link in her emotional life, not easily eradicated; it often flares up in some place or occasion.

To indulge her pitiful vanity, when she returned to me, I placed my hand on her shoulder and gently wiped her plump arm with the towel. She didn't object to my provocative gesture, but her expression was rather tense.

Her face was wet, beads of sweat lingeringly trickling down her fair skin, one trickling down her neck, then slowly moving towards her high, firm breasts. I pressed the corner of a towel there, and she hurriedly moved away, glancing around. The others around us gradually dispersed, like the curtain slowly falling in a theater, the sounds of audience members rummaging through their seats filling the air.

Her expression gradually turned cold, even showing a hint of sarcasm in her eyes.

"Why don't you go to our club for yoga?"

Zhang Yan always displayed creativity and energy in attracting women. I said, "Besides, the environment is definitely better than here."

"To escape men like you."

She maliciously waved her index finger in front of me, smiling seductively. I reached out and grabbed her index finger: "I'm not going to eat you."

Then, I awkwardly suppressed all my expressions.

Chapter 5 of My Public Relations Career:

The hotel is located in the most bustling area of the city. Its triangular building exudes an understated luxury in this city where land is incredibly valuable. The Swan Club is in the annex, occupying one of the "mouth" positions of the triangular shape. Unlike other entertainment venues, the Swan Club's staff are all male, and all are of average appearance and stature.

I don't get up until 3 PM. I let out a long, fish-like yawn. The afternoon sun shines brightly through the window, and I whistle happily, completely relaxed, as I rinse myself off in the bathroom.

Then I wrap myself in a towel and walk around the room. Milk is boiling in the electric kettle. I need to fix my half-long hair and apply some honey to my face. After a simple meal of bread, Old Zhao has again completely ruined my hairspray. Now, I feel that sharing a room with him is a disaster. He always seems to intentionally or unintentionally knock my clothes off the floor or deliberately wet something on my bed.

Now I'm ambitious and energetic; this city is like a fragrant cake, waiting for me to take a slice. The club entrance is empty, a ray of sunlight filters through the leaves of the plane trees, and Old Zhao, standing by the "No Trespassing" sign, looks even more hunched over. His uniform is clearly too baggy, like a musty robe, and he's immersed in endless lamentations. His heart is broken, his face is pale, and every day he storms out at the entrance, cursing Zhang Yan and me.

Pushing open the glass door, a cool breeze hits you, inexplicably refreshing and pleasant. There are no customers at this time. Climbing the suspended stairs to the second floor, Dongzi sits alone on a high stool, leaning against the bar drinking dark beer. He's dressed simply yet stylishly, his hair styled with hair gel, a few strands flying across his forehead. Behind me was a wooden shelf displaying various fine wines. Seeing me enter, he waved his beer at me, and I thanked him with a fist and a fist salute. On a sofa in a corner, Zhang Yan was incessantly berating a man named A-Jie. A-Jie was diligently devouring a steak on his plate, looking like he'd just gotten up and hadn't had lunch yet. We were all messengers of the night. He seemed indifferent to her barrage of words, barely listening. "How can you offend a customer? Let me tell you, everyone who comes here is our god. You have no choice. Don't forget what you do. If you think you've made enough money, you can tell me, and I won't hesitate for you to leave."

Her black hair cascaded over her pale face, like a queen residing behind layers of curtains in a secluded palace, wielding supreme power woven from a complex web of relationships.

"What happened?"

I asked Dongzi, who chuckled. "That Chairman Zou, you remember him? He had A-Jie stand him up last night. This leech is stuck to him, no one can get rid of him."

Seeing Zhang Yan staring at me with a long face, he quickly fell silent. I asked for a glass of water and left Dongzi, leaning against the second-floor railing. When more customers came in, I could safely peek at the various cleavages of women in low-cut dresses. Zhang Yan followed me over. She had her long hair coiled on her head, a glittering silver stud in her ear, and her black clothes accentuated her fair skin, which glowed with a honeyed fragrance under the light, giving it a dreamlike quality. She said, "Ye Xiaoru is very unhappy about you coming to her factory; she's even called me."

"I didn't do it on purpose,"

I said, picking up my glass, only to find it empty. She pressed her snow-white, rounded shoulders and full arms closer to me, and said slowly, "You should know your place."

"I know, it's like a chrome stamp now,"

I said.

"But she still has a pretty good impression of you. Just a little lacking in finesse."

She said with a charming smile, her eyes sparkling. I asked, "How so?"

"Fool, you just don't have that many tricks up your sleeve when it comes to pleasing women."

She was more blunt: "Want me to teach you?"

Customers started arriving downstairs, and she turned around. I stared at her back: "You didn't seem to sleep alone last night, did you?"

"Do you care?"

She stopped, turned around, and said, word by word, "That's none of your business."

With that, her figure, clad in a black spaghetti-strap dress and wearing the diamond ring given to her by her admirer, swayed gracefully away.

Several groups of customers arrived one after another. Most of them only lingered briefly in the bar on the ground floor. They all had an expression on their faces, as if they were seizing the opportunity to promote themselves. In reality, many of them were decision-makers from large corporations, or top performers from foreign companies. Most were highly educated women, but once they arrived, their faces all wore an ambiguous expression.

The top floor had a swimming pool, and below it were a gym, sauna, massage parlor, card room, and restaurant. They either rested there or met up with someone, before heading off to their designated spots.

Dongzi led two women in. I recognized one of them; her surname was Zheng, and everyone called her Sister Ming. This woman was average-looking, neither glamorous nor gentle. If it weren't for her aggressive temper, she would be the kind of person you'd forget after a glance. Aside from a beautiful, high bust, she was unremarkable. She entered and began talking and laughing loudly. Wherever she went, she brought her monotonous liveliness. Dongzi waved to me from below.

The lights shone like amber liquid spilled from a wine glass onto the floor. Waiters in white shirts and red bow ties moved about neatly and orderly, like puppets. Mingjie and Dongzi were huddled together like conjoined twins. A woman at the other end looked around, occasionally picking up her glass of iced water. As I approached, Zheng Ming wiggled his hips to avoid Dongzi's hand, giggling, his hand busy rummaging in his pants. "You get all excited when we talk about this," Dongzi said, pointing to the sofa beside her. "

You sit down." She then introduced them: "

This is Alan.

" "Isn't that the security guard at the door? What's he doing here? He must be crazy for money." She whispered in Dongzi's ear, but I still vaguely heard her. "

Let's go upstairs and eat. "

As Dongzi spoke, he freed himself from her clinging to him. Mingjie pointed to the woman opposite and said to me, "This is my good friend Mei. You'd better take good care of her."

The third floor was a small restaurant, cleverly connected to the hotel's banquet hall by a skybridge. It was famous for its expensive but delicious food. Tall lampposts, glass doors covered with floral paper, and luxurious and elegant private rooms with walls painted in a retro style—an elegant ochre color with a smooth and thick texture, very suitable for a young woman's aesthetic taste. I finally went into the room. Dongzi and Zheng Ming were still sitting close together, while the woman named Mei sat alone opposite them. I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. She was clearly a hot woman, wearing a tight-fitting, strapless, backless, and super short lace dress. Her skin was as white as jade through the shadowy black roses.

Next, I naturally inquired about her recent situation. I learned that she was now the wife of a real estate developer, living off her husband, spending her days idly, and aimlessly wandering around, finding ways to while away the time—a typical idle young woman.

Mingjie knew our local dishes intimately, and soon the food arrived. The banquet then resembled a grand performance, with Zheng Ming, the VIP, always treated like a princess. Without exception, Dongzi always served her the first bite, like a servant offering a gift to a princess, with boundless loyalty. I picked up a bite for Mei and asked, "Is this your first time visiting us?"

"Mingjie insisted on bringing me,"

she replied shyly and sweetly.

“Even when you’re having fun, you have to do it with class. If you hang out with those lowlifes all the time, you’ll become just like them, utterly devoid of any charm.”

Zheng Ming downed his drink in one gulp. “I’ve only led you through this door. Be careful, a few more times and you’ll forget all about it.”

She gave a strange smile, seemingly both innocent and utterly wanton.

Dongzi also had a strong liking for Mei. He took a sip of red wine and stared intently at her.

She remained impassive, her mouth full of the delicious juice of a stink bug. Suddenly, she glanced at Zheng Ming and saw him glaring at her, his face long and drawn. Looking down, she noticed her collar was slightly drooping, revealing a glimpse of her snow-white breasts, her two mounds of flesh almost spilling out. She casually pulled at them, wiping the chili oil from her mouth. Zheng Ming suddenly yelled, "What's going on here?"

She slammed her chopsticks down in a rage, startling Dongzi. She snapped back to reality, and I couldn't help but laugh.

Zheng Ming pointed to a hair she'd pulled from the soup and said angrily, "Why didn't you hire a bald chef?"

Dongzi hurriedly got up and called for a waiter. The restaurant manager also came over, apologized to Zheng Ming, and had the waiter take the black chicken and wolfberry soup away. A moment later, a fresh bowl of soup and a complimentary dessert were brought in.

Coming down from the third floor, a decadent, dancing sea of colors unfolded before my eyes, a cacophony of voices and intertwined illusions. There were sofas everywhere, branching candlesticks, and sensual floor-length curtains. On the second floor, many couples sat cuddled together in various corners, while some solitary women smoked and drank with indifferent expressions. Finding a seat, Dongzi asked them, "What else would you like to drink?"

The bartenders here could mix over forty kinds of martinis and perform all sorts of difficult bartending tricks; sometimes, they'd even create a firework display in their glasses.

"A slut playing with spring,"

Zheng Ming said brazenly, while Mei looked horrified. The noisy, chaotic music gave everyone a strange kind of excitement, as if they were both furious and tender, radiating a soft glow. The drinks were served in cone-shaped glasses with three layers of red, white, and green, with a strawberry floating on the top green layer, much like a woman's pale body immersed in water. Mei took a small sip and said it wasn't anything special. Dongzi chimed in, "You'll understand when you drink more."

They drank more and more, sinking deeper and deeper into the sofa. From their seats, they could see shadowy figures below, like dark branches intertwined. The dance floor on the ground floor of the bar was filled with a relaxed and joyful atmosphere, the scents of alcohol, lipstick, and perfume wafting through the air, men and women swaying their bodies tightly together. Zheng Ming dragged Dongzi onto the dance floor. The lights below flickered, making it seem as if each dancer was covered by a layer of glass. Zheng Ming's voluptuous body clung tightly to the shapely Dongzi, as if she were about to faint. Dongzi placed her hands on her waist, occasionally kneading her ample buttocks.

I deliberately stared directly at Mei with an unadorned gaze, and I could still see a small flame burning in her eyes.

She gulped down the wine in her glass, her seemingly drunk but actually alluring eyes in the dim light. She smiled tenderly at me. "Let's go, let's dance too,"

she said. We stepped onto the dance floor together, and she pressed her soft, boneless body against me, letting me lead her as she swayed hesitantly. The noisy environment forced us to speak close together, our lips almost touching. When an unintentional touch occurred, a subtle surge of desire rose within us. The conversation became unrestrained, leading to more laughter. Laughter melted away the awkwardness, and we found ourselves intimately embracing.

I told her, "Let's see who's coming from behind."

She smiled gently, "No need for tricks."

But she still turned her head, and my lips pressed firmly against hers. Her body seemed to freeze, trembling as if electrocuted. Just as I was about to tease her further, she closed her lips tightly and took a step back. I asked awkwardly, "Are you tired?"

"I'm not used to this kind of setting,"

she said, placing her hands on my neck and wrapping her body around me more tightly. I didn't know how she had crossed this ambiguous boundary, from conversation to kiss. Perhaps she was tired of her own caution; she didn't want to always be seen as a clean but empty lady. Even a respectable woman can have a sudden desire to step into another world.

As we went upstairs together, she was still hesitant. Of course, sleeping with a man eight years younger than her, especially one in a profession involving illicit affairs, was something she had to think about carefully.

The elevator led directly to our hotel room. The elevator lights flickered in turn, and I kissed her again, this time initiating it. My lips, moist and warm like a strange flower bud, quickly enveloped hers. Our tongues intertwined like two smooth silks, and she sucked on them with ecstatic fervor. One hand caressed her breasts, gently stroking her nipples through her clothes, while the other slid down to her thigh. When we reached our floor, the elevator stopped with a "ding," and she trembled. We separated.

Inside the room, a large bed was enough to drive us wild. We embraced and kissed again. Her thin clothes had unknowingly slipped off her body, revealing her firm, elastic breasts. As I buried my face in her breasts with my tongue, her hands gripped my hair tightly. My tongue circled and licked her areola, her waist twisting restlessly, emitting cat-like moans.

At first, she shyly caressed my body, but as physical pleasure surged, it numbed her senses, robbing her of all intelligence and concepts of chastity. Suddenly, she pushed me down onto the bed with incredible strength, panting as she unbuckled my belt. When she pulled out my throbbing erection from my crotch, surprise appeared in her eyes; clearly, my large size made her uneasy.

"Don't be nervous, relax, let me take care of the rest,"

I said, laying her flat on the bed and removing her black panties. Her most alluring hidden area, mysterious and deep, was like a stream concealed by withered grass, where parting the grass revealed flowing water and blooming flowers. She covered that spot with both hands, murmuring, "Be gentle, don't hurt me."

I removed her hands and said, "You silly thing, how could I?"

Even when I kissed that spot between her legs with my tongue, she still clenched her legs tightly, still feeling lingering fear. "Okay, how about this, let's take a shower."

I said, without her consent, I swept her up and carried her into the bathroom. I turned on the shower, letting the warm water pour down like countless rays of light, cascading over our faces, warmly and tenderly drenching our embracing bodies. She tilted her head back, her lips slightly upturned, and I pressed my lips to hers again. We kissed like that in the warm water, slowly and deeply, sucking on each other without haste or impatience, feeling our desires slowly stirring within us. Her body shifted restlessly in my arms, and my lips slid down to her chest. As I teased her nipples with my wet tongue, she twisted her slender waist to escape. I embraced her from behind, one hand sliding down her lower abdomen, covering her wet pubic hair. She arched her hips high, trying to get away.

The lukewarm water cascaded down our naked bodies like arrows. The light dimmed in the rising steam, and I could almost hear her pounding heartbeat and feel the flow of her blood. Soft, lingering moans escaped her lips as my thick member quietly pushed in from behind, rubbing against her swollen lower body. She raised one thigh, her toes pointed, tense as if dancing ballet. A sudden wave of pleasure surged from my lower abdomen, spreading throughout my body. My wet, tingling member withdrew from her slippery lower body, then slowly pushed in again, feeling a gushing, spring-like surge within her spasming depths.

I pressed tightly against her insides. After a moment, her hips swayed, and she let out loud, exaggerated moans, tossing her hips up and down. I showed no mercy, relentlessly thrusting into her. In the blurry mirror, I saw her face, indistinct and phantom-like, her eyes wide open, half-love, half-surprise. Chapter 6 of my PR career

(November 2nd) : Back in bed, Mei gradually adapted to my long, large member. With each powerful thrust, she arched her hips to receive it, and she seemed to appreciate it more and more. She bent her legs high in the air, even shamelessly using her fingers to pry open her vulva, like an open city gate welcoming the invasion of a thousand troops, letting out painful screams as if being tortured, to stimulate my physical excitement and make me thrust even more violently. We were like two fish left on the beach after the tide receded, writhing wildly under the scorching lamplight, the bed filled with semen, saliva, and sweat. I used devilish force to push her to the peak of passion again and again. I realized that this woman beneath me, with her long hair reaching her waist and a pair of melancholy eyes, had an insatiable lust. A pleasant melody wafted from her handbag, which she had tossed on the floor. I stopped thrusting, but she grabbed my hips with both hands, urging me, "Don't stop, don't worry about it." I continued to rise and fall on top of her, and the music started again, playing incessantly. She finally relaxed, looking somewhat dejected. "Get me my phone." She didn't even have the strength to struggle. I shakily got up from the bed and picked up her handbag from the floor. She took out a small phone from the handbag. A man's voice came on, scolding her for not answering the phone. The voice was a bit loud, but not angry. She said, "Playing cards? Okay, I'll be right back." As she spoke, she straddled me, rubbing her hips to find the most suitable position. I understood, and with my still-erect, rubbery thing, I thrust it accurately into her. There was a soft cry, and an anxious voice on the other end of the phone asked, "What's wrong?" "Nothing, just got a good hand," she said, giving me a strange smile before shifting her body. The phone crackled with static, as if she didn't want to hang up immediately. She swayed her hips as she said, "Why are you home so early tonight?" "Drinking with a few people, it was so boring," she replied, placing my hand on her breast and stroking the back of my hand with her delicate fingers, trying to keep her voice natural. "You should go to sleep first, I'll be back after this round." She shifted even more vigorously and joyfully. As soon as she put down the phone, she flipped herself over, tossing her round buttocks high towards me. I penetrated her from behind, and with a scream, her body swelled, her senses heightened, everything like a thirsty flower, sucking at my fiery yet icy touch. My thrusts drove her wild. Her body swayed rhythmically with my movements, my thick member probing and exploring inside her like a treasure hunter. Her flesh trembled under my brutal assault, and with each unrestrained moan and the impact of our bodies, she gradually exhausted herself. She went from kneeling on the bed to sprawling on it, her eyes moist with excitement under the light, her lips opening and closing with each climax, as if she had reached the end of her rope. "I have to go back," she said weakly. I kissed the back of her ear. "Okay, I'll take you." "No need, I'll go myself. You can go back to sleep." Her voice was weak, but undeniably firm. As she sat up to dress, I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my head on her lap. She leaned down and kissed my hair tenderly. She pulled away from my embrace, quickly dressed, and touched up her makeup, making her still-young and pretty oval face shimmer with a golden, silvery, agate-like radiance, as if she had returned to her youth, with a playful air within her poise and the charming, endearing expression only a mischievous young girl possesses. Reaching the door, she suddenly turned back, ran over, and whispered in my ear, "Next time you see me, don't say you know me." She reached up to smooth her bangs, and a certain refined elegance unique to women returned to her every gesture. At that moment, I was overwhelmed with profound dejection. Of course, the next time I saw her, it might be in a shop window displaying top-tier brands, or waiting on a subway platform, but then she would undoubtedly be a glamorous, flamboyant, yet still elegant and reserved young lady from a wealthy family. The thick carpet made no sound underfoot. She vanished like a gust of wind, leaving me instantly enveloped in an empty, silent loneliness. The bright lights felt like blades cutting my eyes. I threw myself heavily onto the bed, the soft, plush mattress bouncing a few times. I tried to deceive myself, thinking it was just a game, entertaining both myself and others; society itself was a giant amusement park. Back at the bar on the second floor, it was almost closing time. Only a handful of customers remained, like a chess game after a fierce battle, with a few pieces scattered across the board. Zhang Yan sat alone in a corner, the chrome-plated liquor cabinet gleaming brightly in front of her. The bottles were always full of fragrant liquid, while the glasses were empty after being emptied. I approached her from the shadows and said, "You drink alone sometimes too?" "Finished work?" she countered. I nodded and sat down opposite her. "Won't you buy me a drink?" I asked, relaxed and cheerful, a stark contrast to the barely suppressed unease she seemed to be putting on. She pushed the entire bottle of red wine towards me, saying, "Want to make some more money?" "Who?" I asked, holding the bottle, her eyes fixed on me. "Me." Her words had a startling effect; I looked up and saw a strange expression on her face, a look in her eyes that made me uneasy. "Come on, I'll give you a discount." I forced a smile. After I discovered she had a man at her house, our once clear relationship began to blur and become complicated, like a straight, flat road entering a primeval forest, becoming winding and unpredictable, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden, always elusive.

Emerging from the bar, our steps trod together along the eerily quiet streets. The orange glow of the streetlights cast a warm glow over the closed shops and trees lining the streets. I turned my head, using the dim light to scrutinize her face. "You seem to have lost weight lately."

"You seem so compassionate,"

she said, taking larger strides to deliberately create some distance between us. I quickened my pace, putting my arm around her shoulder and bringing my nose close to her hair.

"It smells wonderful,"

I said. "Something's off about you,"

she said, half-jokingly. I knew there was something more than just a subconscious connection between us, but neither of us wanted to break through it.

In her spacious apartment, the air seemed to be filled with a bluish-green hue. In front of me, she took off her dress, walking around the bedroom in only her underwear. She said, "I'm going to take a shower. Can you run the water for me?"

There was a stereo system next to the liquor cabinet. I pressed the switch and heard a passionate song by Bai Sheng, music from the last century, born in a chaotic era. " This shouldn't be hers," I suddenly realized. The man in her bed must be an old guy from that era.

When she came out with her pajamas and towel, she saw me still lingering in front of the stereo and said reproachfully, "Didn't you hear me?"

I snapped out of my reverie, turned around, went into the bathroom, and turned on the tap.

"That record definitely isn't yours?"

I said, testing the water temperature. She fiddled with her hair in front of the mirror and said, "I'm not that old yet."

I said fiercely to myself in the mirror, "You should find a good family and get married."

"A wise move,"

she said. When it came to verbal sparring, she was quite experienced, and her retorts left me somewhat at a loss. Before the bathtub was even full, she stripped naked and rushed in. The bathroom was filled with steam, and she lay in the tub, her skin white and pink, shimmering in the mist. "Is this all you're capable of, just standing here letting your customers soak in the tub by themselves?"

she shouted. I could guess about 70-80% of what she was thinking. I knew she was somewhat indifferent to our relationship. Being able to put her body in a slightly comfortable place and release some pent-up desires was something she couldn't judge by gains or losses.

I ran my fingers across the foggy mirror and said somewhat impulsively, "What do you want me to do?"

I knelt down beside her. "What do you want me to do?"

she asked, her eyes closed. The bathtub was filled with warm, clear water, white foam floating on the surface. She lay naked in the tub, using her fingers and toes, painted with bright red nail polish, to tease the foam against her body, a breathtakingly alluring sight. Parting

the foam, my hands caressed her body. Her skin was smooth and delicate; I could feel her firm breasts swelling and fulling under my attentive touch. My gentle fingers traced patterns on her skin like a fish. Then, she stood up, rinsed herself under the shower, and gestured for me to dry her body with a towel. She spread her limbs, constantly gesturing to me. I circled her snow-white body, and suddenly, she brought her delicate breasts to my lips, her body trembling like a swaying flower. I opened my lips and took her breast in. "That's right, that's good. Be gentler with your tongue,"

she said, closing her eyes in enjoyment.

"Alright, let's go to bed. I'll teach you how to please a woman."

After a while, she said, and left the bathroom first. I followed her naked body. As we passed the stereo, the passionate music was still playing loudly. I roughly unplugged the cord, and the music stopped abruptly. Stepping into the bedroom, she was already sprawled on the bed. The soft light from the bedside lamp made the room even more secluded. Half of her naked body was sunken in the shadows, and the other half was exposed to the light and shadow, exuding an indescribable allure.

I stood beside the bed and leaned down to kiss her. As I pressed my lips to hers, she cupped my head in her hands. With her movement, my lips sucked on her earlobe and neck, gradually moving down to her breasts. Her nipples hardened under my licking, and she let out a seductive moan. The hands pressing down on my head tightened, pushing my head down. At that moment, a sliver of light crept up her body, slanting across her withered, grassy hair, like a golden belt binding her between her legs, making each pale golden strand shimmer with a delicate light, and a half-clear, half-fishy fragrance suddenly wafted out.

I stubbornly raised my neck; my eyes must have been filled with resentment, but my body was hot and panicked.

By this point, both sides had tacitly agreed on their own interests, and deep down they both knew that the feelings that had once moved them, though still warm, seemed unable to reignite. "You can't stand this, yet you still want to make money?"

she sighed, then sat up and grabbed a cigarette from the bedside table. I touched the muscles on my face that had suddenly hardened, found the lighter, and lit the cigarette for her. She slowly exhaled smoke and said, "You know, Dongzi can make women feel like they're dying from pleasure with just his tongue, and they'll willingly buy him cars and houses."

"Scared? Hahahaha."

She laughed loudly, then her laughter subsided, her face becoming frosty and serious. Her previous delicate beauty, like a lotus reflected in water, was now replaced by the thorny majesty of a rose. "Is it that you dare not, or that you are unwilling? You have to tell me clearly."

"No, no, neither."

I stammered, forcing a smile. "It's just that it's too sudden, I'm not used to it yet."

"I don't understand, a grown man, so indecisive."

As she spoke, she bent one leg.

Faced with money and dignity, it's hard to decide whether to abandon dignity for money, or abandon money for dignity and then crave money even more. I still lowered my head under the bed towards her lower abdomen. I hated the scene before me, hated this woman, but my cold lips still slid down to her there, even though that place had been entered and exited by men's dirty things countless times.

Following Chen Lixia out of the simple gym, we turned into a street, and the hustle and bustle of the city disappeared. The towering buildings were gone, replaced by residential areas, giving a fresh, green, and clean feeling, with the fragrance of flowers wafting in the air. The road was quiet, with only a few cars passing by occasionally, and no more annoying city noise. She must live nearby. As we walked, she suddenly stopped and asked, "Why are you still following me?"

I feigned ignorance, "I don't know either."

"Looks like we need to find somewhere to eat. I'm not familiar with this area,"

I said, observing her hesitation. It might take some shamelessness to rudely dismiss a man who wasn't particularly ugly or dangerous.

"Okay, there's a fast food restaurant on the corner over there,"

she pointed ahead. Not far ahead, at the intersection, there was a fast food restaurant decorated like something out of a fairytale. Pushing open the glass door, the waiters inside looked like cartoon characters, with blank smiles.

"What would you like to eat?"

I asked. The seats were like train carriages, and we sat side by side. "Strawberry milkshake," she said, putting her bag behind her back. A rose-like scent emanated from her hair, her armpits, and every inch of her skin. I took a deep breath and ordered a Coke. Through the window, I could see people strolling along the sidewalks on both sides of the street, each one looking hurried.

"Are you often alone? Your child should be in high school by now, right?"

I asked cautiously. She had a misty smile on her face, her hair was damp and curly, and her white t-shirt was stained with a large patch of sweat. Everything about her seemed to have a strange, fragile, and indescribable beauty.

"You're testing my age, aren't you? Your child is studying in another city."

"Really? Already in college?"

I said, feigning surprise. She shook her head. "High school, but I'm more than ten years older than you."

She gestured to emphasize.

"Then you're my older sister,"

I said hastily. She frowned. "Don't be so mushy."

I felt awkward. It was already a favor that she agreed to eat with me; I couldn't force her to smile or be overly charming.

She ate quickly and elegantly, like a focused cat. We each ordered another bowl of rice. "Actually, you should practice yoga; it's more effective than that lousy gym,"

I changed the subject. She looked up and said, "It takes a lot of time."

This topic seemed to interest her, so I continued, "Aren't you very free? Playing cards takes even more time."

"Zhang Yan dragged me there. I really don't understand why she went to so much trouble,"

she said, looking at me earnestly. "That's what good friends are like,"

I said calmly, my tone making me seem more mature.

“I don’t think so. I’m not very familiar with her either. There must be some conspiracy.”

She said, a blank look on her face. My heart skipped a beat, as if I had been stripped naked in broad daylight, my face burning.

“How could that be?”

I replied awkwardly. She didn’t say anything more, and we just silently devoured the rice grains on our plates.

The last rays of the setting sun disappeared outside the window, the sky slowly sank to a dark indigo, and the neon lights of the distant skyscrapers lit up, shining like transparent icicles. The city rippled with countless joyful bubbles in the gentle night. She insisted on paying the bill, and we parted ways at the entrance of the fast food restaurant. I hesitated whether to ask her out again, and she also hesitated, waiting for me to say goodbye. But I still waved goodbye without saying goodbye and turned away.

Chapter 7 of my public relations career:

I finally made my parents move into their new house as they wished. In less than half a year since I came to the South, they had received more than 100,000 yuan that I had wired to them, to the point that they believed there really was a place in the far south where gold was everywhere. I also raved to them on the phone, saying that money came incredibly easily here—stocks, real estate, rubber, tobacco, steel bars—money just flowed out of any one of them. They listened with great excitement. My father's deep voice kept laughing, occasionally interjecting with exclamations like "Really? Really?" I told him not to ride his tricycle anymore, and that my mother shouldn't have to get up early and work late picking through rotten vegetables and fish at the market. It was time to enjoy life, to take walks in the park every day, chat with some old friends, and that I would send them money every month for living expenses.

Autumn in the south wasn't so cold yet; only a few leaves would occasionally fall from the tall sycamore trees. Actually, Zhang Yan had helped me pay almost half of the money I sent back. I said it was a loan to her, but she corrected me, saying it was my expected payment. I always chose to call home around dinner time. My father was clearly in a good mood; I could feel the wrinkles on his aged face etched with joy, a heartfelt sigh of relief that his hardships had finally come to an end.

I put away my phone in the parking lot in front of the club, tossing my long hair. A gentle night breeze blew, and the lights shone brightly. The Swan Club's tall neon lights shone brilliantly, and the surrounding lights were a riot of colors, numerous and varied, near and far, bright and dim, flickering and still, all seemingly mixed together in the wind, stimulating the senses and giving a vivid sense of the chaotic urban night.

The parking lot finally came alive. Old Zhao, his backside trembling, gestured, directing the approaching cars into empty spaces. The sky was also chaotic; fluffy white clouds moved rapidly across the not-too-dark sky, the moon sometimes obscured by clouds, sometimes not showing its face for ages. The women entering the club were dressed in bright, fashionable clothes, their faces adorned with insincere smiles, their eyes searching and flickering, plotting how to while away a night of utterly unromantic desire.

A powerful engine roared in, nearly colliding with another car searching for a parking spot. A

tall, robust woman stepped out, wearing light-colored glasses. Her broad face was heavily made up, and she spoke in a deep, hoarse voice, "What's going on? How long are you going to dawdle?"

She was Ms. Zou, the chairwoman of a seafood farming company. Old Zhao quickly went to greet her, saying, "It's alright, it's alright."

She laughed loudly, saying, "Old Zhao, this is perfect for you. It's amazing that Zhang Yan came up with this idea."

She tossed her car keys at him and strode away with her long, strong legs. Her back was straight; the surging wealth and insatiable lust were like two flapping wings, supporting the entire weight of her life.

Old Zhao knew the car well and easily parked it in the narrow space. Seeing me peering into the car, he opened another door and let me in. "How about it, pretty impressive, huh?"

I nodded, fiddling with the dashboard, while Old Zhao turned on the stereo, a cacophony of hellfire-like music roaring as if to flip the car over. He said somewhat boastfully, "Before, I could drive this car whenever I wanted." "

Now it's Ah Jie driving it, I saw him the other day,"

I said, slapping the steering wheel. "Now he's living the high life, it's not my turn anymore."

"That Boss Zou, is she rich?"

I asked cautiously. He said, "It's not just about money, the ones who come here aren't poor, it's just that she's generous and easygoing."

"No wonder Ah Jie seems like a different person these days. I'm leaving."

I said, opening the car door, and he grabbed my arm from the other side, saying, "Hey, can you lend me some more money? I've lost everything again these past few days."

I sighed and gave him all the thousand-plus yuan I had on me.

Upon entering the club, the air smelled like cigars, the music was slow and lyrical, and the flickering lights had a somewhat sinister feel. I ordered a glass of water at the bar on the second floor.

Looking down, I saw swarms of bodies moving about on the lower level, swaying to the gentle rhythm of the music, giving the impression of a swarm of snakes and insects emerging from their nest. A hand wrapped around my waist from behind. I didn't know who it was, but I didn't care. In this place, physical contact was perfectly acceptable; even if someone pulled down your pants, you wouldn't be surprised. When I turned around with a smile, it was Ye Xiaoru's vivid and beautiful face.

I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a loud, exaggerated kiss on the cheek. She appeared here every ten days or so, and she particularly enjoyed hanging out with young, boyish men, always managing to get something out of it. She wore a blue and white skirt with a blue ribbon on her shirt, resembling a school uniform.

I said sullenly, "Don't dress like that, you'll attract all sorts of perverts."

She laughed loudly, and I continued to fan the flames, saying, "If we were in a secluded place, dressed like this, I'd definitely fire you."

At that moment, she must have felt a sweet warmth in her heart, like a river flowing with honey, startling a flock of gulls.

"I came to see you that day,"

she said, tilting her head in an innocent manner. A young man beside her looked jealous; he was a newcomer here, so beautiful it was heartbreaking, a perfect match for a woman like Ye Xiaoru. "You can go now, I won't buy you a drink,"

I said, so as not to upset the young man. His jealous look aroused Ye Xiaoru, and she pressed herself close to him, saying, "Don't worry about it, Alan and I are very close."

Indeed, she came to see me a few more times afterward, and screamed loudly in bed at my increasingly skillful advances. I thought she would become deeply infatuated with me, unable to leave that fiery, exciting, and exhilarating relationship. But she quickly got involved with this young man. If it weren't for his appearance, she definitely wouldn't have been able to leave me that night.

Watching them leave hand in hand, I didn't feel any pangs of jealousy. When she pulled a thick wad of cash from her wallet, you wouldn't expect her to look at you with unwavering affection. Lust is lust, and lust bought with money avoids responsibility and prevents getting caught up in complicated emotions. Money eliminates the danger of lust turning into love at any moment. The air here is heavy, making one's chest feel suffocated. The sofa gets softer and softer, and the dancing releases the body more and more. Somewhere, a beautiful woman screams and laughs.

In a corner at the far end, Ms. Zou occupied a bar table alone, smoking and drinking with an indifferent expression. I brought her a glass of water and greeted her. "Waiting for someone?"

I asked. A flash of annoyance crossed her face, but she didn't hide it: "I'm waiting for A-Jie."

"Why didn't you call him?"

I sat down next to her. She seemed to have drunk too much; she wore overly strong perfume, her hair tied up high like an ancient lady's, her eyes sparkling like shards of glass, giving off an unsettling aura.

"His phone's off, that ingrate."

She said fiercely, then her tone softened: "You'll drink with me."

"Sure, but I don't drink much,"

I said. She called over a waiter, opened another bottle of wine, and raised her glass to me, saying, "Bottoms up, this is a celebratory toast."

"What do you mean?"

I raised my glass too. She smiled and said, "A-Jie and I broke up, starting from now."

I didn't comment, but simply downed my drink. She finished her drink and then asked me to refill her glass, her tongue slurping uncontrollably.

"I'm always resentful. He dumped me. I feel weary, old, and I'm never looking for another man. I doubt any young man will ever be interested in me again."

She drank her wine like water, her face gradually flushing, as beautiful as a blooming peach blossom. Without warning, she suddenly flung a wine glass to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

A waiter rushed over, and she pulled a stack of gold-embossed business cards from her purse, handing them to me and the waiter who was cleaning up the broken glass. "Look what I've done for A-Jie! I've even printed his business cards, booked his office, and I'm just waiting to welcome him to work with a bang!"

Her hoarse voice rose. The fragrant business cards bore A-Jie's name, and his title was Assistant General Manager of her seafood company. “Really nice,”

I said, handing her my business card back. She grabbed my hand, tilting her face slightly up in the light. Actually, her face wasn't unattractive; a pointed chin, slanted eyebrows, purplish-red skin with slightly large pores, and thick, luscious lipstick. She had once been stunning, but now her beauty had faded.

Her face pressed against mine, her warm breath on me in the background music. Her voice was low, but I could tell she wanted me, and not here, but to follow her back to her apartment.

Before I could answer, she left her seat first. The music faded away. At the door, Old Zhao had already parked her silver-gray BMW in the aisle. She opened the door and started the engine.

I sat next to her, and the car sped off. She drove quickly and gently, clearly still quite alert. We sped along the smooth roads, through the city's neon-lit streets, the windows wide open. Facing the cool autumn breeze, it was a delightful experience, giving the illusion that all worries were swept away.

The car entered a luxurious villa district and stopped in front of a three-story building with ornate iron railings. As she opened the door, she said, "This is my villa; no one will disturb us."

She then removed her clothes, tossing her coat and skirt around, and led me upstairs barefoot. Wearing only underwear and a bra, her figure appeared even more slender, without the bulkiness often seen in women her age. Her skin was slightly dark, but very smooth. In the bedroom, our bodies quickly pressed together. Her lips, like wet leeches, searched my face, sucking with particular force.

While kissing her hand, I unbuckled my belt. When she touched my enormous member through my underwear, she trembled with eager anticipation; clearly, my size surprised her. She abandoned the kissing, pulled down my pants, and began to observe and caress, then involuntarily escalated to sucking on it with her lips. As her crimson lips lingered and explored my member, saliva gushed from her mouth, dripping down my member with a bittersweet pleasure, soaking the thick hair on my lower abdomen. In some places, she skimmed over it, while in others, she lingered, lost in ecstasy, oblivious to everything else.

The unprecedented teasing and stimulation made my heart race. My throat felt dry as I swallowed, and my erection made her uncomfortable in her mouth. She stopped, got up from the floor, pointed to the bathroom, and said, "Take a shower first."

When I entered the bathroom, she had moved a chair to face the door, holding a bottle of beverage from who-knows-where, drinking from it as she faced me. One of her legs was raised high, revealing glimpses of her narrow panties, exuding a seductive aura.

"Don't wear clothes."

At that moment, I was drying myself in the steamy bathroom, holding a cotton bathrobe. She put down the beverage bottle, crossed her arms, and circled me, looking me up and down. Then she told me to turn around, which I obediently did, only to turn back again. She gazed at me intently. "Wow, you have a body that women adore."

She reached out and caressed my chest, kneading my bulging pectoral muscles with gentle, delicate touches, as if kneading a precious jewel. "I can't resist a man's body,"

she sighed, then stroked my long legs and neck. Her delicate hands tickled my face, like the gentle caress of a fish's tail. My manhood throbbed and swayed. She grabbed me, forcefully throwing me onto the bed, pouncing on me like a hungry tiger. She looked more like a pirate aroused by lust, while I appeared as a helpless, delicate woman.

Suddenly, a storm seemed to rage on the bed. She was like a tireless machine, relentlessly ravaging my body, while I, quite content, allowed her to ravage me. My act of playing the weakling only fueled her primal wildness; she became even more frenzied and wanton, roughly kneading, pressing, and squeezing me, sucking and tearing at my flesh with abandon. After a whirlwind of passion, she collapsed on top of me, exhausted, her face pale, her body ashen, silent and lifeless. My manhood remained erect within her, a trickle of warm, moist love fluid flowing down to its base.

There were two large arched windows facing south, through which I could see the moon from the bed. It was a full moon, its surface gleaming, hanging motionless in the distant sky. Its shimmering light poured into the room, onto the bed, silent yet incredibly alluring. We both seemed to be building up, brewing even more frenzied actions. She finally let out a long breath and looked into my eyes, saying, "You're different from A-Jie."

For her praise, I straightened her body, then knelt down in front of her, lifted her legs high, and thrust my thick member in, penetrating her completely.

At first, she swayed her hips to meet me, but as I thrust harder and more forcefully, she completely gave up resisting. I used all my skills, manipulating my penis with lightning speed, bringing her to orgasm in an instant. Her insides convulsed, and as I ejaculated my hot semen, she sucked on it like a baby. Then her moans were like the mournful cries of insects in late autumn, a lament of impending death.

That night, we were naked, completely uninhibited, and acted boldly. I stayed in her villa until noon the next day. We didn't waste the opportunity; we ate when we were hungry, slept when we were tired, and made love whenever we woke up. We were immersed in the bathtub, and in the warm soak, she used the phone to direct her branch to deliver truckloads of seafood to the restaurant. While she was instructing her workers, my penis was thrusting wildly inside her. She held the phone in one hand and lovingly stroked my cheek with the other.

"Are you hungry?"

she suddenly asked. I gently bit her strong arm and said, "I'm starving."

She climbed out of the bathtub, still wet. I heard a clinking sound, dried my hair, and went to the kitchen. I saw her naked back as she cooked noodles on the gas stove. She turned and smiled at me. "Only noodles,"

she said, picking up some with chopsticks and feeding it to me.

We each took a bite, fighting over the delicious food in the pot. Our eyes met, and we suddenly burst into laughter. I pushed my hard-on from behind, and she leaned over the stove, swaying her hips. A wave

of sexual pleasure washed over us. The remaining noodles were overturned by her writhing body, and the pot crashed to the floor. We didn't care; we just moved our bodies to meet each other's assault.

As we parted, right at the door of her villa, we embraced and kissed tightly. My hand rested between her legs, feeling the dampness and warmth there, like a strange flower bud drawing me to continue exploring. Her breathing grew more rapid, and physical pleasure surged suddenly with each caress. One of her legs straddled the threshold, allowing me to take out my penis and insert it at an awkward angle. The thrusting was clumsy, lacking a powerful impact, but she still seemed to enjoy it, beginning to moan dreamily until I ejaculated again with all my passion. (

Public Relations Career Chapter 8)

I dragged my heavy legs and weary body back to the dormitory behind the hotel. It was an old-fashioned building, poorly lit, with a large, dark room. The walls, both inside and out, were a grayish-white cement shell; the exterior walls were darker, while the interior walls were whiter. There was a large wet stain on the bed sheet, probably from Old Zhao placing some wet clothes on it again.

I didn't care about anything else; exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave. I curled up in a corner of the bed and drifted off to sleep.

A whooshing sound woke me up. I yawned like a fish, and when I opened my eyes, the sunlight was blindingly bright, like razor blades. Then, I saw a pretty woman in a floral dress hanging men's clothes to dry in the hallway. I stared at her intently, puzzled. She tossed a shirt around, making it flutter like a bird on the clothesline, then deftly shook it a few times. Suddenly, she stretched her slender waist and brought her face close to a man's underwear, sniffing the crotch area.

When I brought the washbasin into the room, I saw her face clearly. She was a plump young woman with big, round eyes. Seeing that I was awake, she smiled and said, "Sorry to bother you, I'm Old Zhao's wife."

I was surprised by how young and beautiful Old Zhao's wife was. Perhaps it was because Old Zhao had aged too quickly; a man who had once brought women to ecstasy in bed countless times now had his wife so repressed that she could only secretly sniff his underwear. "When did you arrive?"

I asked, quickly grabbing my trousers. "Just arrived. Old Zhao picked me up and went to work."

She said, bustling around again. I stood up, put on my trousers, and said, "Then I'll make room for you tonight."

Her face flushed instantly, and I seemed to hear the sweet, happy stream flowing through her heart.

I checked the time; although Zhang Yan hadn't specified when we started work, we were supposed to be at the club before dinner unless we went out with guests.

Leaving our dormitory, you only need to cross an alley to reach the hotel's front. Many families who couldn't move into the new district still live around here. They seem to have little money; laid-off housewives carefully budget their daily wages to make ends meet. The aroma of stir-fried dishes wafts through the air, and students in school uniforms, carrying backpacks, hurry home. Day and night flow silently through these ugly buildings and dilapidated streets.

But I prefer this familiar environment; I can feel a simple, unpretentious atmosphere that subtly maintains my self-respect.

Old Zhao, as if with ulterior motives, stopped me at the door. I smiled and said, "I know even if you don't say it. You want me to make room tonight?"

"You're quite sensible, kid. I was already being generous by not dragging you out at noon,"

he said, grabbing my shoulder. I pulled away, looking annoyed, and said, "Don't put your arm around my shoulder. You look so unlucky, short of money again."

"Smart,"

he said with a grin. I waved my hand, "I'm not your bank, you can't just withdraw money whenever you want."

I quickly declared. His hand reached into my suit jacket, pulled out his wallet, and behind my back, took out several large bills. Then, he threw the wallet back at me.

I avoided him like the plague, but turned back just as I reached the door. I asked him, "Hey, I have something to tell you. Chairman Zou wants to hire A-Jie as the general manager's assistant at that seafood company."

"I know, he can't go," he said. "Why?"

I asked. Old Zhao downed the last of his mineral water in one gulp, loosened his tie, as if he was about to launch into a long-winded speech if I had the patience.

"Are you stupid? Zhang Yan won't easily give up her money-making tools. Even if she has a change of heart and lets him off the hook, the boss will never agree."

He said, pulling me behind a pillar and continuing, "A-Jie really wants to get rid of everything. The boss is furious and has sent word to him that unless he leaves the city, he might as well go."

Upon hearing this, A-Jie immediately stopped dreaming. I asked doubtfully, "Is the boss really that powerful?"

"He really is. He's got connections in both the legitimate and illegitimate worlds,"

he said, giving a thumbs-up.

A chill ran down my spine. I finally understood why prostitutes in plays had to buy their freedom. But the young and beautiful Zhang Yan was completely incompatible with those short, fat, shrewish women.

Entering the club, it was bustling with people. Behind the liquor cabinet on the second floor was an employee lounge, reeking of sweat. In the corner lay a pair of smelly socks, empty plastic lunchboxes, and beer bottles.

Several people chatted lazily, spouting boastful words, while others rested alone on the sofas with their eyes closed. Dongzi was on the phone, saying his monthly phone bill could buy a decent TV; I could tell he was trying to find a customer to pay for dinner. The new young man listened intently to their blatant, deceptive discussions about women, occasionally bursting into laughter. He was supposedly an art school student, eager to slip into this intricate web of connections. I'm also a graduate of a prestigious university, yet I've ended up selling my body in this place. It's undeniable that this is fate's arrangement—the wrong place, the wrong role, yet we've converged in the vortex of this era's torrent. We're immersed in this turbid current; if you don't want to be swallowed up and drown, you have to struggle, you have to go with the flow.

"What are you daydreaming about? You can dream about things in bed at night."

Zhang Yan's voice must be talking about A-Jie. That kid's been spacing out for no reason these past few days, like he's carrying a heavy shackle. Her stunningly beautiful face appeared at the doorway. She pointed at me and said, "You, come with me."

Her words were unequivocal and left no room for argument. I followed her, not taking the elevator. On the stairs, I asked her, "Any good business?"

"No, just accompanying an important guest to dinner."

She didn't turn around, just tried to walk steadily, but her ample hips still swayed quite a bit.

The fourth floor was a billiards room. She led me into the pool hall. Inside was a couple. The woman was in a striking position, almost lying on the table, her legs stretched taut beneath her short skirt. The man was behind her, instructing her on the techniques. She hit a long shot, a black ball rolled into the pocket, and Zhang Yan clapped enthusiastically.

The man quickly moved away from the woman, picked up his wine glass, and smiled smugly. He was in his fifties, with jet-black hair and snow-white teeth. A tight-fitting white shirt hugged his slender frame, paired with a bright blue tie with white polka dots, exuding the unique charm of a mature man. Zhang Yan introduced him, saying, "This is my cousin."

He extended his hand to me, and I grasped his warm, slightly sweaty hand. I felt this man looked familiar; I'd seen him somewhere before. His face was wrinkle-free, his dark, bright eyes sharp, and at first glance, he looked at least ten years younger than his actual age.

"Wang Chuping,"

he said, and I immediately recognized him—Vice Mayor Wang Chuping, whom I often saw on the local news. The woman, however, was a beautiful TV anchorwoman with a man's name: Li Jun.

Her face was flushed from exercise, a fine layer of sweat glistening on her nose, and her sleeves were rolled up to her ribs, revealing her slender arms. “You come here, you come here, I’m no match for him.”

Li Jun handed me the cue stick, his lack of formality revealing their unusually close relationship. Zhang Yan quickly set up a new game. To show respect, I asked Wang Chuping to break first; he didn’t hit it well, scattering the middle red ball.

When it was my turn, I professionally applied wax to the cue tip, but my eyes darted to the side, meeting Li Jun’s gaze. She was stunningly beautiful, like a sun suddenly leaping from the sea, her radiance almost blinding. I bent over, held my breath, and hit the ball quickly and steadily, gaining nearly fifty degrees on my first shot. When I came down, Li Jun excitedly handed me his cup, praising, “You played really well.”

At that moment, I noticed Zhang Yan rubbing her shoe against my trouser leg. This subtle movement was noticed by Li Jun, who nodded meaningfully at me.

I deliberately revealed a few subtle flaws, which allowed Wang Chuping to quickly catch up. He became enthusiastic, and every time he hit a beautiful shot, he would turn around to face the two pretty women beside him. Amid their celebratory gestures, he would confidently return to the court. I sat down on a chair by the court, picked up the glass of water I had just drunk from, and noticed a faint smear of lipstick on the rim of the gleaming glass. It turned out I had used Li Jun's glass. This truly embarrassed me. Holding that glass, I felt awkward—whether to drink from it or put it down, it was like a hot potato.

She winked and smiled at me. Since she had already seen through everything, I didn't need to pretend. I took a deep sip of water and smacked my lips loudly. I was sure Zhang Yan's sharp eyes hadn't missed any of this, but she remained like an outsider, coldly observing our warm exchange of glances.

After several rounds of matches, I consistently lost more than I won, much to Wang Chuping's delight. He glanced at his watch and realized it was past dinner time. He chuckled and asked Zhang Yan, "See? I get so caught up in playing against an opponent that I don't even feel hungry."

"Is there any food left? It's on me."

"Yes, it's all prepared, just a phone call away,"

Zhang Yan replied immediately. "Okay, let's eat,"

he said readily. We went downstairs to a private room on the third floor. Zhang Yan opened the door and welcomed Wang Chuping inside. I stepped aside to let Li Jun pass. She smiled and glanced at me sideways, then nestled her soft, pink body into my arms. I hesitated almost imperceptibly, then planted a warm, wet kiss on her earlobe. Almost simultaneously, as we both stepped away, Zhang Yan poked her head out. Her expression quickly adjusted within a second, and she confidently surveyed the surroundings.

The weather was getting cooler, the city sky was becoming clear and dry, and the late autumn in the south was clean and bright, giving one a faint, tingling feeling. Since that dinner with Chen Lixia at the fast-food restaurant, we hadn't had any contact. One afternoon without warning, the bar was still empty and quiet; there was no arguing, no broken dishes or glasses. A waiter ran up to me and said, "There's a customer looking for you at the door."

My first thought was: she's finally here. Closing my eyes, I felt a clear yet eerie sensation for the first time. I ran outside, and there she was, squinting slightly in the sunlight, smiling. Her black sweater accentuated the whiteness of her skin, a white that seemed to have a honeyed fragrance in the sunlight, giving one a dreamlike feeling.

"Why did you come here to find me?"

I said cheerfully. "I could only come here; you didn't give me your phone number,"

she said calmly, without a trace of complaint. Old Zhao, hidden behind the thick trunk of a sycamore tree, peered in. He had remained faithful to his duty for two years, though his hair had thinned considerably. "I don't want to go through Zhang Yan to find you,"

she said, a hint of scrutiny flashing across her face, as if observing my reaction. I nodded, appearing calm and collected. But a surge of fervor rose within me. To be honest, I had suppressed the urge to find her several times recently. Now, my heart pounded, a long-awaited undercurrent of anticipation welled up, and my face flushed.

"Just let me stand here,"

she asked. "Shall we go in?"

My tone was more of a probe. "Alright then, I've heard your chef's cooking is quite good. I'll eat here first."

She said, walking inside first. "I can afford to treat you to a meal,"

I said casually, then realized how unrefined I was, linking everything to money.

There was still some time before dinner. The third-floor restaurant was quiet, the waiter lazily dozing off. I asked him for the smallest private room. She opened the door, and the furnishings inside surprised her. The walls were covered in a pale wallpaper, while rough, brightly colored curtains trailed to the floor, exuding a luxurious yet decadent air. The carpet, however, was a uniquely charming purplish-red, resembling withered rose petals. "I didn't like it here before, but now I imagine myself as part of this lively, indulgent place,"

she said after turning around the room. At that moment, I noticed her hairstyle had changed; it was now a head of large, wavy, jet-black hair, two-thirds of which swept across her left forehead, cascading down to her shoulder. A large butterfly made of small diamonds was tucked near her left ear, its two wings poised to take flight.

The more frank she was, the more reserved I became. Scratching my brains, I said in a hushed voice, "It's nothing serious. Life changes, you just have to try to adapt."

I felt a slight embarrassment after saying this, but there was no disdain on her face. The meal was indeed quite romantic; the candlelight, music, fish dishes, and the clinking of silver cutlery created a uniquely beautiful and romantic atmosphere, even though it all felt somewhat affected and pretentious.

However, she seemed to enjoy it, volunteering to order a bottle of red wine and pouring herself and me a full glass.

The food arrived, and we stopped talking. I ate while observing her; her face clearly showed signs of a story. Her face was thinner, her double eyelids deep, etched with a vague expression, her lips tightly pressed together yet conveying a myriad of meaning. "I feel life is so fragile," she said. "I just dealt with an accident at school. A car crash took two lives. Yesterday they were alive and kicking, and now they're dead. And right there at the scene, cars were still flowing on the road. The city was still bustling and vibrant. It makes you cherish everything you have even more."

She spoke slowly, taking large gulps of her drink as she spoke.

"All these years I've protected my marriage. I've devoted my whole being to my husband and children, and what have I received in return?" she continued, her voice rising with emotion,

like a child who had suffered a great injustice.

"I've had brief romances, but I wisely avoided them."

She also told me she was attracted to me. She was slightly drunk, becoming increasingly unrestrained, perhaps the alcohol easing the anxiety in her heart.

I walked over and placed my hand on her shoulder from behind. "Don't drink anymore, it'll make you drunk."

"Then I won't drink anymore."

She pushed the glass away, her facial features becoming slightly more vivid in the light, her eyes filled with tenderness, a hint of restlessness. I felt that with her, I no longer needed the elusive mystery and elaborate tricks of flirtatious banter. My hand caressed her bare shoulder as she leaned back in her chair, further exposing her neckline, revealing a deep cleavage and half of her snow-white breast.

My straightforward confidence didn't embarrass her; on the contrary, it gave her a pleasant feeling. My hand, silently encouraged by her, became greatly aroused and began to slowly crawl inside. She lowered her eyes to watch my neatly manicured hands wriggle, tease, and flick her breasts like two spiders, the air thick with the smell of alcohol.

She stared wide-eyed at my head slowly lowering. The room, filled with a bluish-green air, seemed spacious and quiet, imbued with an erotic atmosphere. "I haven't tasted meat in half a year,"

she sighed, pouting like a chick waiting to be fed. We kissed quickly, comfortably, steadily, and without haste. As our tongues swirled, the desire in our bodies grew even more alluring. She teased me with her wine-dipped tongue; the cool sensation of the alcohol mingled with the warmth of her tongue, making me dizzy. I could feel her body trembling uncomfortably. (

Public Relations Career Chapter 9)

The private room had a strange depth, as empty as a crisscrossing wilderness. We embraced, tighter and tighter, our bodies growing smaller and smaller. Her posture, with her neck arched and face tilted back, was awkward. She hooked her arm around my neck and slowly rose from her seat. Standing upright, she placed her rounded arms on my shoulders, her voluptuous body seeming to want to be embedded in my embrace. We kissed incessantly, our lips glistening with wet saliva and a fleeting warmth. The sounds of our kisses were hurried, chaotic, confused, and aimless.

We kept changing positions and locations, but our lips never parted. It wasn't until there was a knock at the door that we snapped out of our reverie, pulling ourselves from that inexplicable attraction. The waiter politely asked, "The restaurant is closed. Would you like to order anything else?"

"That's enough. We'll finish our drinks and leave,"

I said, taking the menu from his plate and signing my name. The room was filled with the strange smell of saliva and alcohol. When we returned to the table, the dishes were completely cold; a thick layer of golden oil floated on the steamed mandarin fish. She said, "You should drink less; you don't look well." Then, she clinked her glass against mine with a crisp sound. I downed my drink in one gulp, and she showed me her empty glass. We both found it amusing and smiled at each other.

"I'm drunk; I can't go back,"

she said, her eyes gazing at the bright sky

outside the window. "I'll take you," I said. She said, "No, I won't go back. Just get me a room." I was taken aback and stared at her. She walked to the window, her face turned to the glaring lights outside, and opened it. A chilling breeze immediately blew in, and the outside world seemed noisy and chaotic, a scene of decadent pleasures and debauchery.

My vision blurred, I felt uneasy and uneasy. I moved closer to her, trying to persuade her to change her mind. But she grabbed my hand and placed it on her face; my palm felt a burning sensation. I held her tightly, and we staggered into the elevator. The elevator ascended rapidly, the green lights flashing with each level, making us feel weightless. Stepping out of the elevator, her breathing became heavy, her body limp and almost paralyzed. The room attendant, used to this, opened the door for us without a second thought and left. As soon as

we entered the room, she shook off my support, tossed her handbag aside, kicked off her high heels, and eagerly began to undress. Her skin, white like that of a southern woman, was as smooth as silk under the soft room light. Her breasts were firm and shapely; her bra was too small, barely covering her nipples, leaving most of her snow-white breasts exposed, trembling as if they would break free at the slightest movement.

Her resolute decision shocked and unsettled even me, a seasoned womanizer. Her eyes were blurry with drunkenness, her cherry lips slightly parted, her tongue hovering behind her pearly teeth. Suddenly, she pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress, which fluttered down like feathers from a crane, settling at her ankles.

Chen Lixia seemed oblivious to my absent-mindedness. She gently twisted her long neck and smiled at my dazed and flustered state: "What's wrong? Your nose is making a snoring sound."

With that, she unhooked her bra behind her back, tossing it gracefully. The bra, like a light bird, twirled and flew into a corner of the bed. She beckoned to me with her finger, "Come on, come on."

Then, she leaned back and fell heavily onto the bed. She was completely naked, her flesh shimmering, revealing every detail of her voluptuous figure, a dazzling display of her beauty that almost blinded me.

With a sudden "boom," my head swelled into a small mountain, my blood boiled, and my heart pounded like a startled rabbit. I stared blankly at her naked body, feeling as if it were some kind of pure ritual, some precious gift. When I approached the bedside, she was already dozing off, looking old and drowsy. Her face was peaceful in her deep sleep, only her nostrils twitched slightly.

The lamp on the bedside table, as always, cast its light on her body, like a friend, watching over her without being noisy, understandingly.

Her legs were long and strong, and the area below her abdomen was covered in pubic hair, emitting a faint fragrance. I couldn't describe the scent; it was like orchids and musk, intoxicating and making one dizzy and restless, almost losing control. But I would never take advantage of her. At that moment, I wondered if I was deliberately playing the role of a virtuous person.

Old Zhao's wife left after less than two days. She arrived full of joy, but left with a heart full of melancholy and a bitter expression. The afternoon before she left, she quietly asked me, "Brother, tell me the truth, does Old Zhao have someone else?"

"No."

I was going back to get some clothes at the time. I turned around and found her face had turned ashen, frozen in place. "Why would you think that?"

I said, her eyes starting to redden and moisten. "Why wouldn't I think that? He hasn't been home for almost a year, and he hasn't sent any money back. I was just worried, so I came to check on him."

"You're overthinking it. We're short-staffed here, and he didn't want to take time off."

I tried to smooth things over for Old Zhao.

"I can understand why Old Zhao didn't send money home. He's a gambling addict. If he had won that day, he would have sent a lot of money home."

Then she began to sob intermittently.

“Brother, you’re still young, there are things you don’t understand. Old Zhao wasn’t like this before. He was like a child, greedy for that kind of thing. Sometimes I hadn’t even finished my chores, and he’d drag me to bed. In bed, he was wild like a madman. Now look at him, two days and two nights, and not a single time. His thing is like cotton wool, limp and never hard again. Tell me, don’t I think so?”

She cried even harder, burying her head on the bed, her shoulders shaking.

I didn’t know what to say to her, stammering, “Maybe you two haven’t been together for too long, it’ll get better with time.”

“I told him long ago that city women are all reincarnated demons, they’ll devour your essence and leave you with nothing. Why won’t he listen to me? He’s drained himself dry, how am I and the child supposed to live?”

She became more and more agitated. I didn’t know whether to leave or try to comfort her, I just stood there dumbfounded. “Brother, I can tell you’re not a bad person, so I’m entrusting my man to you. Advise him to gamble less and stay away from those disreputable women. His health is really important. Tell him he can’t afford to mess around anymore,”

she said slowly, regaining her composure. Her words instantly stirred my compassion, making my act of helping others seem less contrived. I steeled myself and gave Old Zhao another three thousand yuan, knowing I couldn’t get it back, even if it was for his woman and his child.

At that moment, my long hair flowed freely, its black, glossy strands dancing in the wind like fingers plucking strings. I felt a slow-moving peace and joy. Old Zhao said I looked exactly like him two years ago. He still sat at the low table in the corridor, drinking, and when he was tipsy, he would always reminisce about his glorious past and couldn’t help but scold me for being self-righteous.

“Can’t you just stop drinking?”

I exclaimed. I was already being quite restrained, never letting my happy expression give him any subtle provocation or cause him unnecessary resentment. He coughed, then shook his head firmly, a numb, numbing smile appearing on his face, like a deranged monster—desperate, suspicious, stubborn, and irrational. "Can I be happy without drinking? Will more women come to me if I don't drink? Will that thing get hard again if I don't drink? Don't you understand? You're all heartless, selfish, and wicked. I can live without you all, so get lost." He was in a drunken stupor, throwing bottles at me, making strange faces, and muttering to himself. I felt he was using this unique way to express his increasingly intense longing for the past—a man who had brought joy to countless women, a man who now couldn't even satisfy his wife.

That day was Dongzi's birthday, and the wealthy Zheng Ming held a celebration for him at a club; A-Jie and I were both invited. In a corner laden with fruit, cake, and bottles of wine, Zheng Ming presented him with a Swiss luxury watch he had just bought in Hong Kong, immediately eliciting countless gasps of admiration. As they cut the cake, she unabashedly rolled up her sleeves, revealing a lady's watch on her wrist—exactly the same as the other watch, clearly a matching pair. "These watches are at least fifteen years old,"

A-Jie, clearly a connoisseur, whispered to me. At that time, the city was experiencing an unprecedented boom, and people were incredibly wealthy.

Many of the guests were Zheng Ming's girlfriends, including her frequent card-playing friends, among them Mei. Their faces, glistening with sweat and contorted in various shapes, were all seasoned players in the game of love. Her knees were slightly bent, her hips taut. The air was thick with the faint scent of chewing gum, the lingering aroma of cologne, the dry fragrance of tobacco, and the mingled smells of sweat, body odor, alcohol, and fruit; enough to choke a rat passing by.

After my one-night stand with Mei, I never saw her at the club again. Then one day she called me, her voice as gentle as a warm breeze. I was stunned, initially thinking she was a customer who had just left. She asked if I was free and

wanted to invite me for coffee. The weather was surprisingly nice; the sky was blue, though a little dirty, and the grass and trees lining the streets glistened in the sunlight. Following Mei's directions over the phone, I easily found the place, as she had mentioned it was next to a well-known supermarket. She was sitting in that somewhat tacky coffee shop, surrounded by piles of packages she had just bought from the supermarket.

"Why did you think of contacting me?"

I asked with a smile. She smiled back, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "To rekindle that unfinished dream of being lovers."

"How did you become so bold?"

I asked. She giggled. "My husband's away on a long trip. The danger's over. Besides, I'm going to take you home."

"You're crazy,"

I said. "Really crazy. You're awful. You've made me sick of my husband."

As she spoke, she made a very erotic gesture, emphasizing that she was only referring to the bedroom aspect.

People nearby were watching us. I changed the subject, and she began to talk animatedly about her husband, sighing occasionally and smiling inexplicably.

She led me to a nearby high-rise building, a luxury apartment building, supposedly inhabited by the city's rapidly rising nouveau riche. Opening the door, she instructed me to put the bags and pouches she had been carrying together. Some contained food, some daily necessities, and even a sanitary napkin. She took out three drinks from the freezer for me to choose from. I selected one and took out ice.

She led me through the bedroom, where the ceiling was inlaid with prismatic mirrors, a luxurious bed that seemed beyond my wildest dreams, and a wardrobe overflowing with women's belongings—clearly, their married life was quite passionate.

She calmly removed her clothes in front of me, folding each garment neatly and ironing them flat on the bedside table. She did it meticulously, like a well-trained housekeeper.

She changed into a black silk robe; the thin straps and sheer fabric revealed her snow-white body without any concealment, making it seem to float on her like a black butterfly.

We teased each other with suggestive glances, and I felt a surge of desire in my lower abdomen, a hardening feeling about to burst forth. We quickly embraced, our lips frantically kissing. My hands caressed her silk robe, but she stopped me from unbuckling my belt, murmuring, "Don't take it off, I like you dressed up."

Some things are truly laughable; I don't know why she had such a strange thought. I remained impeccably dressed, entwined with her like a well-mannered gentleman. Then she collapsed onto the bed, the black butterfly resting on the snow-white sheets. Passion burned within us, fueled by a continuous stream of kisses. My lips covered her entire body, my warm, moist tongue seeping into every inch of her skin. She gasped for breath, like an exhausted bird, her legs opening and closing in the direction of pleasure, awaiting the fatal impact of that hard thing.

The mirror on the ceiling vaguely reflected our images: her naked, snow-white body still lying on the bed, legs stretched towards the sky, while I stood impeccably dressed below, unleashing my passion and savagery. The climax arrived just in time, and like the first time, she surrendered without any further provocation. At that moment, our minds and bodies were a blur, dazed and lost, milky white semen gushing out, and she weakly and helplessly received the torrent of ejaculation.

The scene before me was gradually heating up; the opulent bar was dazzling with lights, the overhead lights casting shimmering shadows, and the floor beneath my feet felt like smooth skin. Like conjoined twins with Dongzi and Zheng Ming, Mei didn't sit with me, and she didn't even glance at me once throughout the entire night. I didn't know who their girlfriends were, but one thing was certain: at least one of them made her hesitant to indulge in debauchery. The more I drank

, the more uncomfortable my lower abdomen felt, so I got up and headed for the restroom. He relieved himself comfortably, but then heard faint voices of a man and a woman talking in the next stall. The club's restrooms were unisex, but they were never so brazen as to be used by both men and women. "Hurry up, let me fly, I have to go on stage later."

It was a woman's voice, hurried and excited. I instinctively felt a little embarrassed. People looking for pleasure here wouldn't need to find a place like this; the hotel had plenty of clean and quiet rooms, and even a large bed big enough for two people to roll around in.

The couple over there were making all sorts of intoxicating sounds in a mysterious cave, sounds that were seductive, repressive, and persistent. A strange restlessness made me uneasy. I wanted to leave, but inexplicably, I remained rooted to the spot. Looking around, perhaps I could peek through the window at the base of the wall, but it was too high. I silently stepped onto the toilet, my gaze passing through the translucent glass, revealing a scene below that was enough to make my heart race and my breath catch in my throat. From the swaying head, I recognized the man as A-Jie. He was holding onto the woman who had fallen to the ground, wildly swaying his hips, his manhood thrusting wildly. The woman's hair partially covered her face; she swayed her supple waist back and forth, sighing softly. Her hips trembled like leaves, like a pair of adulterers experiencing shameless and supreme pleasure.

A-Jie was tall, and the clothes that had slipped down to his ankles along with his underwear did not hinder his agile waist movements. Like a nimble leopard, he arched his body and leaped forward. With each thrust, his manhood brought out a thick, milky fluid. The woman had lifted her skirt to her waist but hadn't taken off her underwear. To better showcase her genitals, she propped one leg high against the wall, especially her blood-red high heel, which gleamed with an eerie light, creating a striking contrast against the black wall tiles. They moved in perfect harmony, and I sensed a wild, unrestrained groan emanating from her. Their bodies pressed tightly together, trembling rhythmically.

I silently climbed off the toilet, my heart pounding against the wall. They were nearing their climax; I could hear her sharp, strained moans, muffled by a low, suppressed cry. When they opened the door, their faces were warm and weary, and they moved through the bathroom like two tropical fish. The woman horrified me. A woman of her status could only consummate her relationship with a man in this filthy, dark bathroom.

URL 1:https://www.sex3p.com/htmlBlog/20575.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=20575&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : [Urban] Adult Officialdom (Complete) - 16-18

Next Page : [Urban] Adult Officialdom (Complete) - 7-9

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

[Urban] Adult Officialdom (Complete) - 13-15

comment Open a new window to view comments