[Modern Emotions] Desire

Deafening music, dim lighting, and men and women swaying and dancing on the dance floor. At the bar, a disheartened woman chugs a spirit of 50% alcohol, like a thirsty traveler suddenly finding an oasis after a long journey through the desert. Everyone has their own way of finding an outlet in life, and for this woman, the drink in her hand is the perfect outlet at this moment. Morals and ethics are all forgotten; who says a woman can't drink so boldly? This

woman, nearing thirty, is dragged around every Monday when she has free time to go on blind dates. Today it's the neighbor's nephew, tomorrow it's the son of a friend's friend, or some other relative's introduction—each one more dreadful than the last, but they all share one thing in common: a pig-like face, and they're all eligible bachelors, their worth exceeding their height. Those older men who are still single or unable to marry are either extremely unattractive or incredibly boring.

Once, a woman went on a blind date with the son of a tire shop owner. He wasn't well-educated and had spent his childhood learning to change tires at home. During the meal, besides tire-related knowledge, he talked at length about the relationship between tires and politics. The woman tried to change the subject by asking, "What movies or books do you usually watch?" The man waved his hand, "I don't watch movies or read books, it's too boring," and then steered the conversation back to the relationship between tires and politics.

Another time, the woman met a mechanical engineer who taught her everything about designing streetlights, from the inner and outer diameters to calculations, even explaining concepts like shear stress and torsional stress that she couldn't understand. She was completely bewildered by the end of the meal.

And that wasn't all. Another time, the woman met a vegetarian man who spent the entire meal giving her moral advice, as if she had committed some heinous crime. At the end, he clasped his hands together and said, "Put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha." Damn it, what kind of butcher's knife am I supposed to put down and become a Buddha?! The woman cursed at the man before her.

Today, her mother dressed her up like a peacock again, forcing her to wear heavy makeup, claiming it was to enhance her femininity. The woman was used to jeans, shirts, or casual wear; comfort was paramount. Her mother, however, thought it inappropriate for a woman nearing thirty to dress like that, saying that dressing like a child at thirty would make her a laughingstock.

Today's blind date was with a friend of a friend of the neighbor's son's friend—a relationship so complicated it surprised even her. She was even more astonished by her mother's influence.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, she inwardly gasped when she saw the man sitting at the table, but forced a fake smile—something she was used to. Countless blind dates had taught her to wear a fake smile, to maintain an air of sophistication, and most importantly, to witness how many awful, wealthy, pig-faced men couldn't find wives. The man at the table smiled at the woman, revealing teeth stained with betel nut grime. The woman smiled and nodded. The man, surprisingly, shyly touched the few remaining hairs on his head, a gesture that startled the woman, yet she had to smile and watch. The man not only had a pig-like face but was also bald, chewed betel nut, and had a belly that looked like he was ten months pregnant. Worse still, he spoke fluent Taiwanese Mandarin. "

Hello, please give me your guidance." The man stood up and extended his hand to the woman in greeting. Looking at the pig-faced man, the woman could only awkwardly extend her hand in return. "Damn it, I'll have to wash my hands a million times when I get back," the woman muttered to herself as she shook the man's hand.

During the meal, the woman learned that the pig-faced man was the owner of a very famous beverage chain in the south. The person who introduced him said he currently owned more than ten directly operated stores and over a dozen houses. The woman knew that store; she was a regular customer. While the woman was somewhat tempted by these figures, a wave of nausea washed over her when she saw the pig-faced man. Unlike the woman's indifference, the mother was extremely flattering of the man, calling him a dragon among men and saying that if he were her son-in-law, he and her daughter would be a match made in heaven. "

Damn it, who's a match made in heaven with you? You'd be better off marrying a ghost doll bride," the woman thought.

After the meal, the woman went home with her mother. Her mother tried to persuade her to date the pig-faced man, but the woman felt nauseous just thinking about his pig-faced face, his belly that looked like he was ten months pregnant, and his teeth covered in red grime. She couldn't associate with someone from such a different world, let alone with marriage in mind.

The woman's last conversation with her mother ended with her saying, "Leave me alone, leave me alone. I'd rather die than marry that kind of man," followed by the slamming of the door. The woman stormed out of the house.

With nowhere to go, she randomly went to a nightclub to drink. What she needed most was to numb herself; otherwise, she would remember the pig-faced man's disgusting smile and that terrifying belly.

And so it went. The woman, holding an empty glass, spoke to the bartender behind the counter. She downed glass after glass of wine, yet she couldn't shake off her gloom. "Why do I have to be like this? Why does my mother object to the man I love? Is being poor a crime? What good is money? Even with a fortune, if you have a pig's face, you still can't find a wife and have to go on blind dates! Damn it, being poor means you deserve to die!" The woman finished her drink, speaking bitterly.

She had fallen in love with a writer, a man who barely made ends meet through writing. He had no savings, no house, and if he didn't write, he didn't know where his next meal would come from. This was a man's life. She admired his willingness to fight for his dreams, even if it meant losing everything, to paint his own picture in his life. More importantly, he was well-read and knowledgeable; she could talk about anything with him—movies, writing, even philosophy—and she felt happy with him.

Unfortunately, the woman's mother was extremely fond of money, regarding it as her life. Although her mother always said that a woman needed to marry a good husband to ensure a worry-free later life, to her mother, having a wealthy son-in-law was like buying a billion-dollar insurance policy—more meaningful than anything else. Otherwise, raising a daughter only to have her marry and receive nothing, raising her for decades and getting nothing in return, wouldn't that be a huge loss?

"Miss, is this seat taken?" A slightly hoarse voice came from beside her. The woman looked up at the source of the voice; it was a man with short hair and well-defined features. Most attractive of all were his large eyes, which even women envied, and his smile was incredibly captivating. Looking at the man beside her, the woman felt her face burning. She hurriedly nodded and looked away, afraid that if she continued to look, she would become infatuated. Drinking too much alcohol can cause a burning sensation in the body, the woman concluded in her heart about her reaction, refusing to admit that she had been bewitched by the man.

This day felt like a rollercoaster of emotions for the woman, a mixture of hell and heaven. She dared not look the man in the eye, constantly watching his every move. Suddenly, the image of the man she'd met on a blind date flashed through her mind; his pig-like face disgusted her.

"Alone?" The man took a sip of his drink from the bartender and turned to ask the woman.

"Yes." The woman dared not look him in the eye, only gripping her glass tightly with both hands, taking a sip and nodding nervously. She felt her face burning again. "

Want to dance?" the man asked again. The woman shook her head. Although she frequented nightclubs, dancing was something she was utterly terrible at. "

It's very simple, I'll teach you." Ignoring her willingness, the man pulled her slender hand and led her to the dance floor. The woman, instead of being offended by this rude treatment, was attracted by the man's confidence and domineering presence, and was led to the dance floor with her head down. "

Place your hands like this, and then step your feet like this, take it slow, it's very simple, right?" The man moved slowly, his arm around the woman's waist. The woman remained silent, her head bowed. The closer she got to him, the hotter her face felt, and an irresistible desire welled up within her. "

How could a girl as charming as you be single?" The man gently stroked her back and hair, then whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Since starting blind dates, the woman had grown accustomed to other men's praise and admiration, but these sweet words from a man made her blush involuntarily, like a girl in love who had been secretly kissed by her boyfriend.

"Hold me, hold me tight." The woman murmured to the man, her eyes tightly closed, her body involuntarily writhing against him. She recalled a long time ago, a passionate scene with the writer.

They stood naked in the bathroom, the woman too shy to look up at him, too afraid to see his naked body. The showerhead poured down, water droplets quickly covering their bodies. "Don't be shy." Seeing her bashful expression, the man gently lifted her head, lightly licking her earlobe with his tongue, then proceeding to explore her ear, gently, slowly licking it. "Mmm, mmm." The woman gasped, her body writhing uncomfortably, a burning desire slowly igniting within her.

The man's kisses left her lips, moving down her neck, finally lingering on her breasts. The man's tongue swirled around the firm nipple, the woman's panting grew more rapid, her hands roaming freely over the man's body, finally settling on his erect penis, caressing it incessantly as if it were a delightful toy.

"Oh." The woman's moans became a passionate song, each sound piercing the man's ears and stimulating him. The man embraced the woman from behind, his tongue teasing her earlobe, his left hand grasping her left breast, his right hand sliding down her waist to the already wet entrance of her vagina. The man moved slowly and deliberately, lingering at the entrance. "

Mmm." The woman, not to be outdone, pushed away the man's hands, turned and embraced him, searching for the lips she had longed for. Her naked body swayed against the man's, finally kneeling down.

The woman deliberately teased the man's penis with her tongue, licking it and then withdrawing it, like a mischievous child teasing him. Finally, unable to resist the teasing, the man roughly forced the woman's head down, compelling her to swallow his penis. The woman showed no aversion to the man's rough movements; on the contrary, she laughed happily, deliberately gazing at him with hungry eyes as she swallowed.

After being serviced by the woman, the man left all his semen in her mouth.

Of course, the man was no pushover; not long after the first time, he proudly entered the woman's vagina again, the showerhead becoming a third party spying on their pleasure. Oh. Mmm. The man vigorously twisted his waist, trying to give the woman the most beautiful experience, and the woman passionately sang songs of pleasure, encouraging the man to work even harder so that she could reach a blissful state. For the woman, it was a beautiful new world, a place that only a man could take her to. Heaven, yes, heaven, the woman suddenly thought of a word to describe this new world, and for this reason, she responded to the man even more diligently.

Oh. The man breathed heavily, his waist arching more and more rapidly; it seemed that the second ejaculation was about to erupt.

Just as the woman cried out excitedly, "No! No!" her body trembling and weak, the man ejaculated a second time into her vagina. Afterwards, the two leaned weakly against the bathroom wall, enjoying the meager feedback from the showerhead.

The woman, recalling her passion with the writer, felt a fire ignite within her vagina, but she couldn't show it. She could only cling tightly to the handsome, refined man, imagining her passion with the writer to relieve her inner desire. "

It's getting late, I'll take you home." Back at the bar, the man checked the time and said to the woman, who shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment. "No, I don't want to go back to see my mother who just wants to marry me off quickly. I don't want to. She only cares about money; she doesn't care about her daughter's happiness at all." The woman looked at the man, her heart filled with rejection. "

Where do you want to go? I'll go for a walk with you. You look so desperate, but such a beautiful woman shouldn't be in despair. You should be happy. Flowers should bloom beautifully, not be so depressed." The man seemed to understand the woman's thoughts and spoke considerately.

The two sat in the man's car, driving straight towards the Gold Coast. The woman stared silently out the window, her mind still preoccupied with her mother's pressure to arrange blind dates and marry her off. The more she thought about it, the sadder she became, until finally she wept silently. The man noticed her tears and, considerately, didn't say anything, simply handing her a tissue before focusing on the road ahead.

Walking along the Gold Coast beach, many couples who hadn't yet returned home were scattered in various corners, some embracing, chatting happily, some even strolling hand-in-hand. Seeing the woman, the man considerately took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. The woman looked at him in surprise; no man had ever been so considerate to her, not even a stranger. For her, only the writer man had shown her such consideration—the only man she had ever truly dated. The others were merely casual acquaintances at the dinner table, men who only cared about her beauty, forgetting that what a woman needed most was emotional support. "Put this on, you won't catch a cold." The man seemed to see through the woman's surprise.

They walked along the beach, the woman taking his arm. From a distance, they looked like a loving couple. The man didn't refuse; instead, he held her tightly, his eyes fixed on her as if trying to see into her heart. "

Why are you looking at me like that?" the woman asked.

The man didn't explain much, but simply lowered his head and kissed her. Their lips met, and sparks flew. The woman clung to the man, his hands gently caressing her back, a caress that sent shivers down her spine. Their tongues intertwined, and the woman breathed softly, as if saying, "I want it, I want it."

After their passionate kiss on the beach, they went to a love hotel near the Rende Interchange, where there were luxuriously decorated beds and lights that aroused desire.

They passionately embraced on the bed, their tongues locked, and they busied themselves removing each other's clothing, finally lying naked on the bed. The woman kissed the man, trembling all over, as if trying to release all her pent-up emotions. She teased his earlobe with her tongue, moving down his neck to his nipples, licking them hungrily. The man responded with pleasure, stimulating her movements. Her tongue continued its skillful maneuvering, while her right hand slid down his abdomen, grasping his penis and stroking it repeatedly.

The woman's tongue reluctantly left the island in the sea, continuing its exploration, finally finding the man's penis in the dense forest. This time, the woman didn't tease him playfully as she had with the writer man; instead, she swallowed his penis whole. Because his penis was so large, she had to open her mouth wide to swallow it.

As the man received the woman's ministrations, he recalled the image of her crying in the car, and now her passionate behavior. What kind of depression was hidden within her? Like… not long after, it was the man's turn to serve the woman.

Just as the man was about to move away from the woman's lips, she suddenly reached out and grabbed his penis, saying coquettishly, "I want it. Stop this pointless game, give it to me." Before the man could respond, she guided his penis into her vagina.

She moaned softly with pleasure as she entered.

Finally, she pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him, wildly thrusting her body to reach that beautiful world. Without the man, no one could lead her there; now, the man beneath her was merely a tool to take her to that beautiful world. Without this "work," she couldn't experience the beauty of heaven.

As she writhed, she looked down at the man's hands kneading her soft, erect breasts, and suddenly felt a sense of triumphant conquest. With each twist and sway, the man's face became increasingly blurry, eventually transforming into the pig-faced man from the earlier blind date dinner. The woman swayed even more violently, finally laughing happily.

Perhaps it was the power of self-deception, but she felt as if she had trampled that pig-faced man beneath her.

"Damn it, so what if he's rich?" "I just don't want to marry a rich man, I don't want my mother's scheme to succeed, so what? I'm going to be promiscuous, I'm going to have sex with strange men, so what?" Just as the man left his semen inside the woman's vagina, she shouted loudly, as if yelling at all the rich, pig-faced men in the world.

(Word count: 10666

) [The End]

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[Modern Emotions] Desire

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