She likes kissing but doesn't want to have sex with me.

The year I graduated from university, I was assigned to a very good government agency. This agency had very few young people, and even fewer women. My arrival attracted everyone's attention. The leader in charge of our department spoke with me specifically, praising my youth, potential, and promising future, encouraging me to use my intelligence and talents—words that filled me with enthusiasm, as if a bright future was beckoning me. Then my direct supervisor spoke with me, saying I was energetic, intelligent, and enthusiastic, and urging me to leverage my strengths and do a good job. After receiving affirmation and instructions from my superiors, I resolved to make a name for myself. So, every day I was the first to arrive at the office to clean and organize files. I'm outgoing and warm-hearted, and since my colleagues were older than me, and I was diligent, they all liked me. My proactive and capable attitude frequently earned praise from my superiors and colleagues, and I was very happy working in such an environment. After a while, I always felt like there was a pair of eyes watching me—my direct supervisor. My boss is tall and handsome, with a beautiful wife and a well-behaved daughter. He has a very happy family, so I reminded myself not to overthink it. He's my leader, and with such a happy family, he wouldn't have any ulterior motives towards me. However, his gaze really confuses and unsettles me. I've bumped into him several times in the hallway. His eyes are full of tenderness, and when I greet him politely, he smiles and says, "Xiao Ke, you're doing a great job. Everyone's been very supportive!" Sometimes, he'll even pat me on the shoulder. Sometimes, when I pass by his office and happen to meet him, he'll invite me in for a chat, asking how my work is going, if I'm facing any difficulties, and if I need anything from him. I always give him a truthful answer. He'll also recommend some books to me; he has a lot of books in his office, and he'll let me take them and even exchange ideas with me when he has the chance. Once, this boss called me into his office. He first asked about my recent work and thoughts, then helped me design my future and goals, guiding me on how to achieve them. I know that he's the person who can help me the most to achieve these wonderful goals. As he spoke, the topic suddenly shifted to my personal life, asking if I had a boyfriend. I shook my head. He then asked what my criteria were. I said I hadn't considered that yet. He was very pleased to hear this: "Good, young people should prioritize their careers and make achievements while they're young." I nodded: "Please give me your guidance, sir." He smiled, looking very happy: "No problem, I like ambitious and progressive colleagues." As he spoke, he walked to my side and naturally put his hand on my shoulder. I was momentarily at a loss, sitting there blankly, unsure whether to push his hand away or just let it be. As I hesitated, his hand began to stroke my face. Just as I was at a loss, someone knocked on the door, and he calmly sat back down in his office chair. A colleague walked in, and my heart pounded. But he remained calm, as if nothing had happened. Holding a document, he said to me, "Hmm, not bad, you've improved. The language needs some refinement. Okay, put it here for now, I'll take another look and come back to you later." After saying this, he turned to my colleague and said, "Xiao Zhang, how's the report coming along?" My colleague Xiao Zhang began his report, and I slipped out of the office feeling guilty. After that, I frequently received ambiguous text messages from him. Although I didn't like him, having someone care about you when you're lonely is a nice thing, and it's still quite comforting. One day, near the end of the workday, my boss called me to his office to assign an urgent task. I went, and he sat there, looking at me tenderly. To hide my nervousness, I gave my report, my words somewhat incoherent. He didn't seem to mind; his eyes were full of affection, and something else—I can't quite describe it. I finally finished my report. He looked at me and said a bunch of high-sounding words, then started saying sweet nothings about liking me. My face burned, and my heart raced, but he showed no sign of stopping. I turned and walked towards the door. He caught up with me in a few steps, hugged me, and kissed me. I struggled and wanted to scream, but I didn't. I knew it wasn't good for either of us, especially since my colleagues had all gone home. He kissed me, and I resisted, but slowly it felt good, and I even started to enjoy it. Perhaps he sensed my change, because he carried me to the sofa and began to caress my body, kissing me passionately, calling me "my darling," and saying he would do anything for me. He opened my shirt, and I suddenly regained my senses. I couldn't give my virginity to a man who couldn't be my husband. I said no, no, and pushed him away. He finally stopped and looked at me: "Baby, I really like you. Give it to me, I want you." "No, I'm not married yet, I can't," I said firmly. He sat up, helped me put my shirt back on, I tidied my hair, and left. The next day at work, I hid in my office, only daring to step out to use the restroom. I was afraid of running into him and reminded myself to act naturally, as if nothing had happened. Thankfully, I didn't see him until the end of the workday, and I breathed a sigh of relief. On my way home, I received a call from him: "Xiao Ke, I drank some alcohol yesterday, and I forgot everything you reported to me. I can't remember anything. How did you get home?" "Oh, I took a taxi home. Thank you for your concern, boss." From then on, my immediate supervisor rarely contacted me. Zhuang was my supervisor, and also my direct supervisor's supervisor. He was very kind and caring towards me. He was 20 years older than me, calm and experienced, with a refined and elegant demeanor—a very mature and charming man. Sometimes, I would see him in the hallway; he would have a smile on his face, and his voice would be low and gentle, making me feel very comfortable. Sometimes, I would sit in his office for a while. He would listen to me patiently and even teach me some work skills. I could feel that he doted on me. So, I felt quite relaxed around him. When there were work-related social events, he would always bring me and a female colleague in her thirties, which made him feel very important. This colleague, always in her thirties, would step up at crucial moments and drink a few glasses for the supervisor, managing to outdrink several of the other people without batting an eye. Once, the supervisor took us out drinking again, but this time he drove himself, without a chauffeur. The banquet proceeded as usual, with the men trying to get me to drink. Although I couldn't hold my liquor, I still drank some. The supervisor tried to protect me, but whenever he did, they would make inappropriate jokes. This time, the supervisor didn't drink much; the female colleague did most of the drinking. Several hours passed, and everyone was completely drunk. The supervisor drove us home. The female colleague was so drunk she was slumped in the car. When we arrived at her house, I had to use all my strength to get her home. My supervisor drove me home, but he stopped in a secluded spot, got out, and sat in the back seat next to me. His eyes seemed to be blazing with fire as he grabbed me and began kissing me passionately. His breath reeking of alcohol was repulsive and disgusting. I tried to push him away, but he was too strong; I couldn't budge him. His masculine strength and scent made it hard to breathe. I began to enjoy the feeling. He kissed my lips, my neck, and even tore my clothes open. At that moment, I had no secrets from him. He lay on top of me, kissing every inch of my body. My mind resisted, but my body wouldn't obey, enjoying his caresses and kisses… Finally, after we straightened our disheveled clothes, he drove me home. That night, lying in bed, I felt a chill. If he had insisted on having sex with me, perhaps I really wouldn't have been able to hold onto that last line of defense. As I thought about it, a longing arose within me, a yearning for his passion and excitement. I was curious about that feeling and experience, and wanted to try it, but reason told me once again that I must save my precious first time for the man I would eventually marry. After that, I frequently received text messages and calls from my supervisor. Sometimes when I received a call from him, he would only say a few words. When I asked him what was wrong, he would say he wanted to hear my voice. Whenever the weather changed, he would text me to remind me to add or remove clothing, and sometimes he would tell me about personnel changes. Once, his wife and son went on a trip, and he invited me to his house. I hesitated, but went anyway. His house was very cozy, with their wedding photo hanging above the bed; they looked very happy. He made me coffee, and as I drank it, he asked me to feed him. I brought the cup to his lips, but he shook his head, telling me to drink it first, and then feed him mouth-to-mouth. Just as I took the second sip, he kissed me tightly, very urgently, and then he pressed down on me. He was very strong, and I lay there limply, letting him kiss and caress me wantonly. When he tried to cross the final line, I said no, really no. He stopped, held me, lay there for a while, and then let me go home. He was still as caring as ever, and his words of concern warmed my heart. Sometimes I thought, having him as my husband wouldn't be bad. That day, I passed by his office and went in for a while. He looked at me gently. I said, "What are you busy with?" He smiled, "Baby, I miss you. Wait for me at XX tonight, I'll pick you up. She's away on a business trip, come to my house for a while." I neither agreed nor disagreed. When I got off work, I received another call from him, saying he was waiting for me at XX. I went there, got into his car, and went to his house. His refrigerator was very full. He asked me what I wanted to eat.Then he started cooking. Watching his busy figure, I went over and hugged his waist, pressing myself tightly against his back, and muttered to myself, "If only this were true!" "Honey, isn't this true?" "I mean, if only we were really a family." Hearing me say this, he suddenly stopped, looking at me with some concern: "The chances are too small. What are you thinking?" At that moment, I felt a deep sadness and retorted, "It's not a matter of small chances, it's impossible. You're 20 years older than me. I don't want an old man as my husband." He laughed: "Exactly, Xiao Ke is such a smart girl." I ate a few bites and left. From that time on, he rarely called me. Why am I rejecting them while simultaneously longing for them? Before, they were always texting and calling constantly. Now that they don't bother me as much, I feel uneasy, and even a sense of loss. What's wrong with me?

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She likes kissing but doesn't want to have sex with me.

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