Ethnic minority girls

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Freshly baked, November 25th, 2014, sunny.

This morning, my dad and I went to the fields. We passed a market for farmhands and helped a neighbor with some work. I got out of the car to arrange for the workers to get on, but as soon as the car stopped, they all tried to squeeze in, making it overloaded. When I was about to get into the front passenger seat, I noticed it was occupied by a woman. I offered to sit where I wanted, and she said she'd squeeze in with me. I was overjoyed, so I squeezed in, hoping to get a chance to grope her. I put one hand behind her back, and accidentally touched her buttocks. She flinched, and I thought that was it. I secretly glanced at the woman; she was probably 25 years old, of average appearance, but among working girls, she was considered top-notch—very clean and tidy. Her hands were quite slender and fair, but halfway through the walk, she leaned to the side and placed her hand next to mine. I didn't think much of it, assuming she was just changing her position. After a while, she suddenly pressed down on my hand, and my heart skipped a beat. I wondered what was going on. After walking a bit further, she suddenly squeezed my hand tightly, seemingly very excited, and squeezed it several more times. I responded once, not daring to make any other moves. My dad was driving nearby. Just then, the farmer next door arrived in a truck to pick us up. My dad told the overloaded passengers to ride in the truck, and when there was some space in the back, he asked the girl sitting next to me to go too, but she refused. My dad then asked... Oh dear, I thought if I didn't go, he'd suspect I was taking advantage of the girl (which was true). When I got out of the truck, I saw there were already two people in the passenger seat, it was quite cramped. The girl, seeing I hadn't gotten in, probably thought it was too small for her, and she kept urging me to go back. The truck driver also tried to get me in his truck. Torn between the two, I chose to get in. At that moment, I saw the despair in the girl's eyes. I thought about it; at worst, I'd just nervously hold hands with him, there wouldn't be a good outcome. I have a wife, and I don't have the time or opportunity to see her. Most importantly, he's from an ethnic minority; if I took advantage of him and he clung to me, it would be troublesome.

[The End]

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