My female colleague, Sister Gong

I met Sister Gong in the spring of 1999. At that time, I was a graduate student at the research institute, and she had just been transferred from the military to the institute as the deputy director of the office and chairman of the trade union, in charge

of graduate student work. In a table tennis competition organized by the institute, we each won the men's and women's singles championships, and as a result, everyone asked us to have a mixed-gender match during the awards ceremony. Naturally, Sister Gong won. During the match, I naturally felt sorry for her, but the final result was that Sister Gong and I became table tennis friends, often meeting up to play after work in the afternoon.

As spring turned to summer, and with less clothing, Sister Gong's breasts, often outlined by sweat and her sportswear, became a sight to behold, so much so that I often lost focus and made mistakes. After a while, I guess Sister Gong had gotten used to my lecherous gaze. When she lifted the damp part of her sportswear, she no longer turned her back to me, and even coughed deliberately a few times when I stared at her. We both knew what was going on, but neither of us said anything. I liked this feeling of first love. During that period, my girlfriend was no longer the only one who entered my dreams at night.

I remember it was Thursday afternoon around 2 PM when Sister Gong suddenly came to our lab to ask me to play table tennis. She even helped me ask my advisor for leave. After the break, Sister Gong changed her usual steady, defensive style. She lost all spin and just kept smashing the ball with all her might. She was completely out of sorts, losing two consecutive games 9-21.

Just as I was about to ask her what was wrong, Sister Gong said fiercely, "Keep playing! Best of nine games today!" I was startled. It seemed something was going to happen. From then on, I didn't dare to use my full power, focusing on defense. Even so, I couldn't withstand Sister Gong's frequent smash errors, and she quickly lost two more games.

The decisive fifth game began. From 1-5 to 1-13, Sister Gong missed eight consecutive smashes. I started to panic and decided to let her win. Sister Gong smashed the ball again. I casually blocked it, and the ball drifted off the table to her left, seemingly going out of bounds, but unexpectedly it grazed the edge and changed direction. Sister Gong moved to the side to receive the ball, then cried out and fell to the ground. When I reached her, Sister Gong was already squatting on the ground, clutching her left foot, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her face like broken pearls.

"Don't move!" I looked around; there was nothing to sit on. I supported her back with my left hand, scooped up her legs with my right, gently lifted her, and laid her flat on the ping-pong table. Sister Gong looked like she was in considerable pain. I asked,

"Did you bring a towel?" She shook her head. "A handkerchief?" Still a shake of the head.

I couldn't care less! I opened the door to the ping-pong room, running and taking off my t-shirt as I went. I kicked open the door to the opposite lounge, opened the refrigerator, and used my t-shirt to wrap up all the ice cream in the freezer compartment—Sister Gong had just bought and put there yesterday.

I rushed back to the ping-pong room. I took off her shoes and socks, and wrapped her foot in the t-shirt with the ice cream inside: "Sister Gong, let's go to the hospital for an X-ray!" Strangely, there was no sound. Instead, a delicate body suddenly threw itself into my arms, followed by soft sobs.

My mind went blank; I didn't know how to comfort her. I could only mechanically stroke her back. After a long while, she stopped sobbing, but still nestled in my arms. Her soft, damp hair, wet with hot tears, clung to her bare chest, and I involuntarily became aroused. The atmosphere was a little awkward, a little ambiguous.

"Sister Gong, does your foot hurt badly?"

"It's alright... Xiao Lin, I'm sorry."

"?...Sister Gong, should we go to the hospital?"

"I don't think it's a problem."

"Let me take another look!"

She lay back down on the ping-pong table. I unbuttoned my t-shirt and gently pressed my hands against her ankle. There was no redness or swelling, but a slight coolness; the ice cream seemed to have worked well. I looked up and asked, "Does it still hurt?" Sister Gong shook her head. I glanced down and discovered a glimpse of her underwear.

Since we hadn't arranged to play ping-pong beforehand, I was wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and leather sandals, while Sister Gong was wearing a white long dress with purple flowers and mid-heel sandals. At this moment, Sister Gong was half-lying on the table tennis table, her left leg half-bent and half-raised, which I had lifted into the air. Her skirt had slipped up above her thigh, and her white panties, soaked from the intense activity, clung tightly to her pubic bone. Most interestingly, the bottom of the panties, damp with sweat and exercise, had formed thin strips, and with her left leg half-raised, a hint of her vulva was faintly visible, along with a few strands of black silk.

In this situation, the best course of action was naturally to keep my eyes straight ahead and let my mind wander. I held Sister Gong's ankle with my left hand and gently massaged it with my right. Her delicate body gradually softened until she was completely relaxed on the table tennis table. Then, my right hand moved slowly from her ankle up to her knee. I glanced at her then and saw her hands resting on her chest, her lips slightly parted, looking completely relaxed and enjoying herself.

I don't know where I got the courage, but I slowly moved my right hand to the inside of her thigh and gently massaged it in a clockwise circular motion with the heel of my palm as the center. My right fingers occasionally touched the groin and the edge of her panties, each touch causing her delicate body to tremble. After a moment, seeing that she was still enjoying it, I paused for a moment, then gently slipped my right hand along the groin and inside her white panties. Wherever my fingers touched, it was already slippery and wet, and I couldn't tell what kind of fluid it was.

At this moment, a small hand grabbed my right hand through her panties: "Xiao Lin, no!" My mouth went dry, and I cried out in a trembling voice, as if possessed, "Sister, let me touch!" The small hand then let go weakly, allowing me to continue exploring freely.

My fingers gently glided over her labia, then I gently pinched and kneaded the smooth protrusions with my thumb and forefinger. Once, twice, three times... Sister Gong's legs suddenly tightened, her delicate body straightened and trembled, accompanied by a beautiful moan, and her body suddenly relaxed a few seconds later. I hadn't expected her to be so sensitive.

Continued caressing after an orgasm is a pleasure for women; it's said that 30% of women experience a second orgasm during caresses, though of course, you shouldn't stimulate overly sensitive areas at this time. I pulled my right hand out of her panties and continued stroking upwards along her lower abdomen, gently tapping around her navel. Sure enough, after a brief moment of discomfort, Sister Gong began to gently wiggle in sync with my fingers.

I leaned over her, continuing forward with my right hand, finally breaking through her bra and conquering one of her breasts. Then, with my left hand, I pulled her panties aside, quietly freeing my erection, and slowly thrust in. Unexpectedly, her vulva was incredibly wet, and my erection slipped away easily.

Sister Gong suddenly sat up and pulled my bare upper body into her arms. "Little brother, thank you for your concern, but we can't do this!"

I said, "I'm sorry, sister, I couldn't control myself."

Sister Gong hugged me tightly. "Little brother, I had something on my mind and lost myself."

That evening, sitting in a quiet teahouse, I gained a sister, and she gained a brother. The siblings agreed to forget the misunderstanding. The days that followed were peaceful and uneventful, as if everything had returned to normal.

[The End]

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My female colleague, Sister Gong

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