The Little Fish's Secret Story (1) - Actually, strangers also have feelings. Thank you, Uncle.

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Hello everyone, I'm Boiled Fish, and it's a pleasure to meet you all. This is my first time writing an experience post on this platform, and I'd like to share my personal experience. From a girl's perspective, passion towards strangers isn't entirely devoid of emotion. I'll share a story that happened to me.
I work in sales and often travel for work. Sometimes, I even have to take a bus to remote broadcasting companies in county towns to handle business and financial signing for invoices and payments. The summer after I got married, my company had an urgent bid to submit in Badong County, Enshi, and they insisted on sending me. I've always been very thin and not in good health. When I arrived at Badong train station, I realized we weren't even in the county seat. It took over three hours to get from the train station to Badong County. I hate taking buses; the smells and the winding mountain roads are unbearable.
This experience truly felt like living hell. For three and a half hours on the mountain road, I was vomiting the entire time, from driving to getting out of the car. Several times I wanted to jump out. Sitting next to me was a man in his forties who kept offering me bags and tissues, giving me water, and even asking the driver to stop several times so I could rest. Without his care, I don't know how I would have fared during those three hours on the mountain road.

When we arrived in Badong County, it was completely dark. No clients came to pick me up at the station, and they didn't answer my calls. Badong was also freezing cold. My husband didn't call to comfort me, to ask if I had arrived. All my emotions piled up, and tears streamed down my face. I sat at the station, sobbing uncontrollably. I don't know how long I cried, but when I looked up, only the man was still there, comforting and reassuring me. He took me to eat their local specialty hot pot and then to the Badong Broadcasting Company, where we found a hotel nearby. While eating and drinking with him, I vaguely felt that he was like a father, like a brother, and I felt incredibly warm inside.
That night, as I was getting ready to sleep in the hotel, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, it was the same uncle again, carrying a bag of local oranges, pomelos, and walnuts. He told me there wasn't much good stuff in the mountains and that I should take some back for my family to try. Up until this point, my husband hadn't called once all day. I was so touched that I burst into tears. The uncle hugged me and comforted me, saying, "Young lady, find another job, don't come to the mountains to suffer."
I looked at the older man; his aged face suddenly blurred, and my arousal surged. I felt wet down there, and I knew I wanted it. I closed the doors and windows, pulled down his shorts and underwear, and squatted down to take it in. A pungent odor almost made me faint, but the stimulation in my mind didn't diminish at all. The older man gripped my shoulders tightly, seemingly at a loss, while I continued to suck, slowly feeling his erection. Soon, a stream of hot liquid shot into my mouth.
Before I had even finished vomiting, the older man ripped my underwear off my skirt and thrust into me. I only remember screaming until he ejaculated. That night, I couldn't understand a word he said in his mountain dialect; he just kept penetrating me, again and again, until dawn. When he left, he knelt and begged me not to call the police, to accuse him of rape, saying he had a wife and children at home, seeing his predicament. I just chuckled, saying it was my own choice, why would I report him?

In the following days, the company's bidding process went smoothly, and as I finished work and prepared to leave Badong, the night before I left, I don't know why, I contacted the older man. That night, we walked and talked on the mountain roads of Badong, like a father and daughter. When I told him I might not come back, the older man fell silent. He didn't say a word, but pulled me further and further away, until we reached the Qingjiang River at the lowest point of the county. He pressed me down on the riverbank and told me it was the place where he and his wife had their first time 25 years ago, and then he entered me again. For a moment, it felt like he was 25 years old again, incredibly energetic. I held him, feeling his thrusts, and for some reason, felt a sense of comfort. After he finished, I quietly asked him if he wanted to go back to the hotel with me; I was leaving later the next day. He shook his head and muttered, "I'm not good enough for you. I'm already satisfied with what we had."

Later, on the ferry from Badong back to Yichang, I realized I hadn't even known his name, but he was definitely in my heart. Although I had cheated on him, and with someone 20 years older than me, I'm still grateful for his past care.

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The Little Fish's Secret Story (1) - Actually, strangers also have feelings. Thank you, Uncle.

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