A Few Things from My Youth—My First Encounter with a Woman's Fragrance

page views:1 Publication date:2021-03-29

That year, during my junior year of college, I used all my savings from working during the holidays to buy an iPhone, which was considered a must-have at the time. I have to say, Steve Jobs' masterpiece truly changed some aspects of human life, and my own suppressed desires were released through this little device. At that time, WeChat was just emerging and quickly becoming more and more diverse. The "People Nearby" feature had just been launched, and the shortened distance provided fertile ground for communication between strangers
, and it was pure and simple. Back then, there were no beauty filters, no tricks, only the pent-up needs of both parties bursting forth like a mighty river, mutually fulfilling each other—it was a golden age. I stumbled upon this feature and searched frantically, like I'd struck gold. But things never go as smoothly as I imagined. Most of my greetings went unanswered, and even after becoming friends, the coldness of the interactions extinguished the flame of hope in my heart time and time again. Though the flame was extinguished, the warmth remained. After countless attempts, I finally took the first step. That night, a girl greeted me, and we exchanged a few brief words. Shortly after dinner, she suggested we meet briefly downstairs at the mall where she worked, and I excitedly rushed over. She was already waiting there, with wavy blonde hair, a black suit and high heels, and beautiful features—more than I expected, exceeding my expectations. During our conversation, I learned she worked in marketing at a KTV upstairs; years later, I learned she was actually the nightclub manager. She said she didn't lack men; her job involved dealing with men, and she met me out of curiosity about my youth and student status. I smiled noncommittally. Because she was getting ready for work, we parted after a brief chat, and I returned to my dorm. Unexpectedly, at midnight, she messaged me to go to the five-star hotel near the mall, and I was now incredibly excited. I entered the room; her face was slightly flushed, probably from drinking. After a few words, she went to wash up, and I followed. She had full, firm breasts, a flat stomach, and smooth, fair skin. That night, I recklessly thrust my hips, pounding into her again and again, pouring out all the pent-up desire of the past two years into her deepest depths. She, too, craved the same treatment. We finally clung to each other at the peak of climax, our bodies convulsing and trembling… When everything calmed down, she hurriedly returned home, and I turned away, exhausted yet satisfied, and fell into a deep sleep…
The next day, I got up to wash and prepare to rush back to class. The landline rang, and I quickly answered. Her voice came through. She asked if I was leaving. I said I was about to leave. There was a slight hesitation on the other end of the line. After a few seconds of silence, she said, “Don’t worry about class.” I asked if I still wanted to come over, and she answered affirmatively. I said, “Come on, I’ll wait for you,” and hung up. She rushed over, and when we met, our passion was even greater than the night before. We made love passionately, and I kept my promise from when I greeted her: “I’ll give you the feeling of soaring to the clouds!” We met again after that. She was a woman from Jiangnan, but her personality was more like that of the North. She had a beautiful figure and was undeniably charming. I had hoped to maintain a longer relationship with her, but given the sensitive nature of her profession and the assumption that her husband might be a member of the underworld, I decided to end things. She expressed her reluctance and tried to persuade me to stay, but I was too resolute. Looking back, I realize I hurt her feelings to some extent. This was not my intention, but I was young then, experiencing the allure of women for the first time, yet unaware of their hearts. But the past is the past; everything has settled into memory, transformed into words…

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