One-night stand

Ten years after graduating from university, we unexpectedly met again. It was at an academic conference; we had come to the provincial capital from different cities. He was even more handsome than before, and possessed a more mature, weathered air. Back in our junior year, he was on our department's basketball team. He had a girlfriend, but I would often watch him run and dribble from afar. The moment he shot, my heart would race, as if he were striking my heartstrings.
Later, in despair, I hastily fell in love, graduated, got married, and had children… Gradually, I forgot those beautiful days, those infatuated dreams. Perhaps he never noticed me, this "second-glance beauty," because I wasn't strikingly beautiful, quite ordinary, like this provincial capital—average, somewhat ladylike, quiet, and perpetually spring-like.
And so, I watched the loneliness of youth fade away, watched him soar to great heights. In college, we were in the same department but different classes. I never imagined I'd see him again after 10 years, let alone that he'd recognize me instantly and call me by my long-forgotten college nickname, "Silly Pig." I was flattered and my eyes lit up, as if Andy Lau were fanning me. Truly, at that moment, I was incredibly excited, but I just smiled wistfully and said something very common: "I never thought I'd see you here again!"
That night, it was late, the moon wasn't full, but it was bright. He invited me to his room to admire the moon, since it was on the eighth floor, higher than mine. I went. Beforehand, I put on light makeup and some perfume. By then, I had long since left behind the silly "lady" of my college days. I was more confident than before, and possessed a unique charm of a young woman.
We drank the beverages he had prepared, a beautiful yogurt drink. How did he know I liked these? A strange premonition suddenly welled up inside me—the moonlit night could bring trouble—but I remained engrossed. We chatted happily, reminiscing about our college years, which was a major part of the conversation. Why am I crying? I even told him about the years I secretly loved him, how gloomy I was… He leaned in at the opportune moment and hugged me. I recoiled, but he comforted me, saying, “Don’t be afraid, my roommate won’t be back tonight, he’s visiting relatives…” He silenced my lips with a passionate kiss. I closed my eyes, entering a state of reverie, as if hypnotized by him…
He began to undress me piece by piece. Suddenly, I snapped out of my reverie, grabbed his hand, and begged him to stop. He gently bit the last button on my clothes with his teeth, then said with infinite tenderness, “Baby, there’s a 10 yuan note on the ground. Pick it up, and it’s yours. Why don’t you take it?”
“I’ll feel guilty, afraid the owner will come back and take it back!” I murmured helplessly. “Don’t worry, just once is enough. Such a beautiful moon, baby, let’s not waste it. Actually, I’ve always been thinking about you back then, but I didn’t show it because you were the one who arrived late…” Before he could finish, I fainted, my whole body going limp. At that moment, I completely collapsed, utterly powerless to refuse…
This profound yet simple romance ended with dawn. Finally, I asked for his phone number, but he calmly refused. As I went downstairs, I was a little dazed. I opened the door to my room, and my roommate asked where I'd been last night. My mind was foggy, and I blurted out, "I got lost..." Then I lay back on the bed and fell asleep, exhausted...
Was it because of greed? Or to fulfill a past, beautiful dream? I still don't understand. But when you make a mistake, there's no reason.
Da Liang: Out of spite or revenge?
The first time I heard about ONS (One Night Stay), perhaps because "homegrown flowers are never as fragrant as wild ones," a strange stirring arose within me. Would I have such an opportunity?
Many of my male friends boast that life is worthwhile because they've tasted all sorts of "delicious" experiences. In these situations where men boast, I wasn't going to be outdone. I made up some stories, embellishing them with eroticism, acting like a "womanizer." Actually, apart from my wife, I've never really "smuggled" anything with other women.
One night, I had an argument with my wife. She kicked me out of bed and then pushed me out the door. I was furious and went to a dance hall to drink. I felt resentful and wronged. I was such a good man, I never cheated, and she didn't appreciate it at all. Glass after glass of strong liquor went down my throat, and my consciousness gradually blurred. This was the first time I had ever drunk so much. Perhaps because of the alcohol, I became incredibly excited, as if my whole body was on fire. That night, a girl came to the dance hall alone. I took the initiative to strike up a conversation. After chatting, I learned that she had just broken up with her boyfriend and was also looking to drown her sorrows at the dance hall to get rid of the nightmare...
"We're both in the same boat," we chatted very congenially. After about an hour, we were both drunk. We staggered out of the dance hall, supporting each other. There happened to be a small hotel next door with hourly rooms. So I half-jokingly said, "Shall we go in and rest?"
To my surprise, she agreed! However, she said it was a one-time thing, and after that, we would disappear from each other's lives and never bother each other again. Her eyes were bloodshot as she stared at me intently. Now, I started to feel nervous. My long-dreamed-of one-night stand was about to begin, and the pre-battle atmosphere left me completely flustered. But my male pride compelled me to bravely enter the hotel.
Once in the room, the girl took the initiative to hug and kiss me, gently patting my face, pressing my chin against her chest, and then giggling—unrestrained and bold. She aroused me; my nervousness vanished instantly. I began to undress her. That night, the naked woman before me wasn't my wife, but a complete stranger!
I felt a little dizzy as I looked at her. In that critical moment, I suddenly thought of my wife, of how she defied her parents' strong opposition to marry me, a man who had once been penniless, of her past tenderness, affection, and loyalty… My mind suddenly went blank, then gradually cleared, and the alcohol stopped working. So I immediately stopped what I was doing, said "I'm sorry," and went downstairs to pay and leave...
It was a shameful secret that I kept to myself. I never dared to tell anyone, let alone my wife. Saying it today feels like a liberation. From then on, I treated my wife better and better, cherished this hard-won relationship more and more, and vowed in my heart that I would only have one-night stands with her (Only you, never second).

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One-night stand

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