[Modern Relationships] One-Night Stand Goes Out of Control

He had double eyelids that looked like single eyelids, and an adorable smile that made me dizzy.

Our first meeting was at a friend's birthday party at a nightclub. I was enjoying the music on the dance floor and didn't notice someone approaching from behind. Perhaps because I was wearing a shirt with a cutout back and a tie at the waist, it inevitably attracted the attention of some slightly tipsy people. I was focused on the music and swaying to the rhythm, but I gradually realized that the person behind me was getting closer and closer. If I took even a slight step back, I would immediately fall into his arms. I was very unhappy about this impolite advance, but since it was the first time someone had approached me like this from behind, I was a little flustered. I wanted to step on his foot, but I was afraid of hurting him if I didn't control the force properly. It was very embarrassing. Just as I felt him getting closer and closer, even trying to rub his genitals against me, the next moment I was pulled away. I was startled and looked up to see that it was my friend who had saved me. I was initially relieved that he had just come down from the dance floor... However, someone might get their foot trampled in the dance floor the next second. But unfortunately, I was too quick to celebrate, because my friend wasn't exactly a saint either. He loved pushing me onto the stage to watch me embarrass myself. Of course, as the birthday boy, he wasn't going to let this golden opportunity slip by. Sure enough, just as I was still basking in the joy of being rescued from the clutches of that perverted guy, he bent down and pulled me into his arms. I immediately realized what he was up to, so of course I struggled desperately, grabbing at the onlookers with both hands. Luckily, there was a silly-looking statue standing right within my reach. So when my hand hooked onto his, the saying "strike while the iron is hot" perfectly described my situation. Just kidding, in this ocean of a dance floor where you could drown at any moment, a Louis Vuitton suitcase that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere finally appeared. Even if the police came to inspect it, I would never let go, never!

Perhaps my unwavering determination to refuse to go on stage or let go moved the poor suitcase I was clinging to by the neck. It gently wrapped its arms around my waist, preventing my friend from pulling me over. The incredibly mean birthday boy, seeing this, reluctantly let go, giving me a break. As soon as I felt my feet on the ground again, free, I immediately let go, turned around, and punched my friend hard in the back. "You're so annoying! How many times have I told you not to push me up there?!" I glared at his grinning face. "I just saved you, so come on stage and be a monkey to repay me!" He shrugged, sticking out his tongue nonchalantly. I retorted with my own tongue before remembering to thank the poor suitcase… no, the poor passerby who had been innocently dragged into this. "Sorry, thank you for earlier," I said, standing on tiptoe near his ear. As I was speaking, I finally saw the true face of the kind man, Lu Shan. He had double eyelids that looked like single eyelids, thick eyebrows, a straight nose, and a very sweet and cute smile. He smiled slightly and said, "You're welcome." At that moment, I felt a little dizzy... I wouldn't dare say I'm a seasoned veteran of nightclubs, but I've been to dozens of nightclubs more than I can count on my fingers. But this was the first time, the first time someone made me want to take the initiative to get to know him. After all, I know the rules of the game here. If I miss this opportunity, I might never see him again. Actually, there are many people who are more handsome than him, and he wasn't the first person to catch my eye. But I know my own limitations. I know that most of the people I admire wouldn't be interested in me, so I never thought that I would have a day when I needed to muster up the courage to speak up. And that day was also the first time I kissed someone on the dance floor of a nightclub.

As the engine noise faded into the motel parking lot, I felt an urge to run away. It wasn't some last-minute retreat or a sudden moral awakening. I knew exactly what kind of game this was, and I wasn't a novice; I'd just set the rules for myself. I hadn't had a chance to tell him because I was afraid he'd be unhappy…or disappointed?

Actually, this was our second meeting.

After leaving the nightclub last time, even though I was already downstairs at his place, I had to leave because I had to work the next day. He'd only asked for a kiss. Bye, but inexplicably, it turned into a passionate French kiss. It was still dark, and there was no one around. We were in the courtyard of a community surrounded by houses on all sides, so anyone who was still awake or got up early and had nothing to do would see a lewd kiss playing out downstairs. I don't know if it was because of the alcohol or if he was just naturally so willful. He held me tightly in his arms and kissed me, and I felt him tighten his arms, as if he wanted to meld me into his body. I even had trouble breathing. In the gaps between our lips, I couldn't help but let out a soft gasp. He seemed a little stimulated and started attacking my neck. His hands skillfully slid down to my pants (I was wearing very short hot pants that day). I was shocked. I didn't expect him to be so brazenly caressing me in public... well, although not in public, it was definitely in public... I don't know if it was the alcohol that made him so crazy and rude, or if it was just his nature, or if he was just being coy because it was still dark and there was no one around. I'd been wanting to do something exciting for a long time, or maybe he was trying to arouse my desire so I wouldn't want to leave. But maybe he was drunk, and I wasn't. That day, there simply wasn't enough time for us to release the desires we felt for each other. So here I am now... in the parking lot downstairs from a room in the motel... I knew there was no reason to hide this time, and I didn't really want to hide. I knew I wanted him too, but just as I was about to enter the room, I felt uneasy. Before, I always waited until we both agreed and he could accept my request before doing it. But this time, I don't know why, I couldn't bring myself to say it. Maybe it was because I was afraid that if I said it, he wouldn't accept it, and everything would be over... After entering the room, I pretended to look around and examine the equipment to ease my tension, and also to gather the courage to make my request. "Um... um..." I said timidly. "Hmm?" He responded while taking out a drink from the refrigerator.

"I... can I... not take off my clothes?" I looked at him cautiously, observing his reaction. Sure enough! He seemed a little uncomfortable. He frowned slightly and stared at me with a somewhat puzzled and dissatisfied expression. "...I... I'll go take a shower first..." Oh well! If he really can't accept it, then just consider it as me paying to come in and take a shower!

I thought to myself in despair, and turned around to quickly walk towards the bathroom to take a shower. But as soon as I stepped onto the bathroom floor, he followed me. "Wh...what's wrong? Didn't you already shower?" I was a little startled that he would follow me, and so close at that. "Why didn't you take off your clothes?" He looked at me suspiciously. "Because..." Before I could finish my explanation, he swallowed the rest of my words. What? Why ask me if I'm not going to listen to my explanation?

He kissed me while trying to take off my clothes. I nervously grabbed his hands and resisted. "...The clothes...will tear them..." I barely managed to find a moment to speak from his passionate lips and tongue. Seeing my desperate resistance, he decisively changed the battlefield. His left hand slipped inside my clothes along the hem and reached for my breasts, while his right hand was not idle either, reaching under my skirt and teasing my vulva. I think he shouldn't be surprised, because based on the last experience, he probably knows I don't need much teasing to get wet. I don't know if it's due to my constitution or a psychological factor, but when I feel that the other person "needs" me, my body reacts naturally. Maybe I'm not emotionally prepared, but physically I'm already overflowing with desire. I think maybe it's because I need to feel "needed." Although everyone has this desire, I'm addicted to it. When I was little, because my father was a serious violent person, my mother took my sister and me and ran away from home several times. But I don't know what kind of disgusting coincidence was at play, for two consecutive years, after my mother took us away from home, the day my father caught us again was on my birthday... Of course, after being caught, I inevitably received another beating.

The man's furious roars and the woman's pleas for mercy pounded against every corner of the room. I could bear it, perhaps out of habit; as long as I held back my tears and obediently endured the beatings, his anger would subside soon. But what I found most unbearable, and what truly left a lasting scar, was a sentence spoken by my older sister, only a year and a half older than me: "Why is it always on your birthday? You shouldn't have been born!" While children's words are said to be innocent, and I now understand she was speaking in anger, sometimes it's precisely because they are children's words that they hurt the most, especially when heard by someone as young as me at the time. Every day afterward, I truly wanted to die. I felt like no one in the world needed me; I was an unwanted child. When someone needs me, I'm truly happy, regardless of their purpose. Even if they just want my body, it doesn't matter. If this humble body can satisfy your needs, can satisfy my desire to feel "needed," then take it. Of course, it's also possible that it's all just wishful thinking on my part, that I'm just a born slut. But I don't care, the reason doesn't matter. I only know that someone needs me, and that's enough. Gradually, I felt his breathing become heavier, and his hands began to restlessly try to tear off my clothes. "Wait...wait...I'll take a shower first, okay?" I quickly pushed him away, pulling my clothes back on, and said. Perhaps it was because all the blood was concentrated in my lower body.

His eyes seemed somewhat dazed and mixed with a slight disappointment. He looked at me, like a frustrated child, and reluctantly stepped back, letting me go to take a shower. There was a wall separating the bathtub and the shower in the bathroom.

I was terrified he'd storm in while I was showering in the bathtub, so I decided to shower in the shower. But I soon realized I'd made a huge mistake. The shower was a small, rectangular space at the back, with walls on both sides. If you were facing the showerhead, there was a large, transparent glass door behind you—the only entrance and exit. As I slowly undressed in the shower, he happened to walk to the sink to wash his hands. Our eyes met in the large mirror.

I felt him staring intently at me through the mirror, at my shirtless self in the shower. In that instant, I realized I'd completely put myself in a difficult position. How could I be such a fool to walk into a trap?

There was nowhere to run!

I panicked, but running to the bathtub didn't seem right either… After much deliberation, I decided to believe he'd be a gentleman who would wait for me to finish showering and get dressed. Who were I trying to fool? We were already here; who would act like a gentleman?

Besides, that wolf outside was a drunkard!

I hurriedly turned the showerhead on full

blast, trying to fog up the glass door with steam so he couldn't see clearly from the outside. But I knew that was just wishful thinking and utter nonsense. Who would want to stand obediently outside and watch?

Of course, he'd just open the door and come in! He actually came in! Help! While I was struggling with my inner angel and demon, he had already stripped naked and brazenly opened the glass door and walked in. "Wait a minute... Didn't you already shower? Don't come in!" I had just applied shower gel when I turned around and found him behind me. I was so scared that I hurriedly covered my body. "You can shower again." Because of the shower gel, his hands, like octopuses, immediately slid from my lower back to my breasts and vigorously rubbed them. Then his left hand played with my nipples, while his right hand slid down my waist to my buttocks and kneaded them. Then he moved to my abdomen and pulled my body back, letting me feel his hard penis between his legs.

When his teeth gently nibbled at my earlobe, his heavy breath filling my ear, my body immediately went limp. Although I have many sensitive spots on my body,

and you could say I get wet without any deliberate teasing, my ears are the most vulnerable. It felt like a slight electric current coursing through my body, a tingling sensation spreading from the soles of my feet upwards. My legs went weak, and I squatted down slightly. He took advantage of this, stepping back a little so I could squat down completely and gesturing for me to serve him. My first encounter with his enormous penis truly startled me. I wouldn't say I'm worldly-wise, but I can say with certainty that it was the thickest and longest I'd ever experienced. I couldn't take his penis completely into my mouth. I tried to go deeper, and the glans was already touching my throat, making me feel nauseous, yet about a thumb's length was still sticking out. Of course,

it could also be because my throat wasn't deep enough. Although I couldn't take it all in, I still tried my best to serve him within my capabilities. I started by licking the base of his penis, slowly working my way up to the glans.

Then his tongue circled the glans several times before gently sucking it into his mouth. He immediately pulled away and instead took the base of my penis into his lips, licking and kissing it slowly all the way to the glans. He repeated the circling motion before sucking it into his mouth again, this time with more force and for longer. His hands gently entwined my damp hair, and low, unsteady moans escaped his lips. Just as I was about to switch to sucking the other side, he suddenly pulled away, pulled me up, and kissed me. To be honest, I was startled. I thought men were very averse to saying hello to their own scent, but he seemed completely unconcerned. Perhaps the alcohol had numbed his sense of taste as well?

He hooked my left leg up with one hand, while his other hand grasped his penis and tried to insert it into my vagina.

"...Wait...wait a minute...condom...no..." I frantically reached out to stop him, but he didn't seem to intend to stop. He increased the force of his hand, making it impossible for me to push him away. Then, as he looked up and kissed me, he entered me. "...ah!"

I felt my vagina being filled in an instant. The sudden stimulation made me gasp and let out a soft cry. At almost the same time, he also let out a satisfied moan. Then, he hooked my right leg with his right hand and lifted me up.

I clung tightly to his neck, my back against the wall, moaning with his rhythm. The showerhead on the wall continuously sprayed hot water, filling the entire shower room with steam. I couldn't tell if it was the steam or his thrusts that were making it hard for me to breathe. All my attention was occupied by his repeated assaults. His movements gradually quickened, and I could feel the pain from his forceful penetration fading away. I knew I was getting wetter, but when I felt him increase his force and speed, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen with each thrust. "Wait...it hurts...wait a minute..." I begged him to stop, wincing in pain. "Does it hurt?" He put me down, his face still shrouded in the hazy pleasure of the experience, but slowly being consumed by doubt. "...Um...maybe...I'm a bit short...maybe...sorry..." I crouched slightly, feeling a little uncomfortable, my hand on my abdomen, hoping to ease the pain. "It's okay." He gave me that gentle, adorable smile that made me dizzy again.

He pulled me up and lowered his head to lick and kiss my nipples, while simultaneously probing my vagina with his fingers, searching for the legendary G-spot. Although I didn't know if I actually had a G-spot, I was surprised by his skill; at least I felt a pleasure I'd never felt before emanating from the area he was teasing. Just as I was about to forget the pain in my abdomen, he suddenly knelt down and buried his face between my legs. I must admit, his oral skills weren't very good, or perhaps it's more accurate to say that none of the men I've met so far have been very skilled in this area. But I didn't care. I was already touched that a man was willing to do this; whether I could truly enjoy it or not wasn't particularly important to me. For me, the kind of sex I enjoy is feeling the other person's body temperature, embracing them, feeling their expression of pleasure, and their strong emotion of "needing me." I don't know if this counts as having a slightly masochistic tendency. If I resist, it strengthens their desire to possess me, which excites me even more, so I'll try my best to fulfill whatever they want.

Even if it violates my principles, as long as I feel his desire, I don't care if my principles are broken. Originally, I insisted that I must wear a condom for the night and never take off my clothes... Did I really feel needed? Or was I just bewitched by his smile?

Maybe both. Later, when we moved to the bed, as I felt his penis moving in and out of my vagina, he held me tightly in his arms, and I thought about the men I'd been with before, whether I had feelings for them or not.

No one had ever gone to the trouble of holding me so tightly during sex, partly because it was difficult to exert themselves, and partly because it wasn't necessary.

But he made me feel that he wasn't just looking for sex; he also wanted to feel another person's warmth and embrace, to feel needed. We were both equally lonely.

Sure enough, when principles are broken, subsequent resistance crumbles like dominoes, and by the time I realized it, things were out of control.

I'd only considered him a one-night stand, and I didn't expect him to want to contact me again. Even when he said in the motel that he hoped for a next time, I just smiled and took it as sweet talk—sweet, but not heartwarming.

But I found myself starting to miss his smile, his kisses, and the feeling of him holding me tightly. So I contacted him first. I don't know what screw went off in me or what nerve snapped. I knew the terrible consequences of continuing like this, but I still recklessly fell for him, telling myself to just treat it as a beautiful dream.

Before my emotions completely spiraled out of control, I allowed myself to take everything from him. I wanted to savor the pleasure he gave me before losing him, to remember it forever and hide it in the deepest corner of my heart. During this period, we did it many times, so many that I was afraid I would become obsessed with his body, or even fall in love with him. Fortunately, he was a very unpredictable person, which somewhat woke me up and prevented me from completely succumbing. On the day I decided to end it, I drank a little too much, perhaps because I wanted to numb myself so that at least the end wouldn't hurt so much.

When he came back from his shower and kissed me awake, lying in bed almost asleep from dizziness, I immediately rolled over and pinned him down. After that, I found that I liked being on top. Maybe it was because his penis was long enough, so when I moved my hips, I really felt something.

In previous sexual encounters, I was always on top because my partner requested it. My hip movements were for them, not for myself. As long as they felt pleasure, I would continue moving even if I felt nothing myself.

But now, I'm doing it for myself. I've discovered I can enjoy the pleasure of sex. Even when he's beneath me, his expression a complex mix of pleasure and struggle due to my movements and speed, begging me to stop, I maliciously ignore him.

It's the last time anyway; this time, I'll enjoy it. He keeps saying "stop moving," and then asks if I can ejaculate inside

. I whisper "no" in his ear

while continuing to sway my hips back and forth to the rhythm of the electronic dance music. Watching his expression, a mixture of pleasure and pain, I have this twisted thought: So cute! Oh my god! So cute! I want to torture him like this until he dies. Some say that a minority of people with S or M tendencies are actually bisexual.

Conversely, it's also possible to go from M to S or from S to M. Maybe I'm one of them. It seems he really couldn't take it anymore. He suddenly stood up, grabbed my waist, and turned me from the top to the bottom position, regaining the initiative. I felt a surge of victorious superiority.

But he wasn't much more relaxed after regaining the top position. Although not wearing a condom was certainly more comfortable, it was precisely because it was so comfortable that when he wanted to ejaculate but couldn't release it directly as he should, this comfort turned into torture.

"Let's just consider it a farewell ceremony...

anyway, it's a safe period now."

Watching him struggle for so long, yet hesitate to release, I thought to myself, "Cum inside." I heard myself say this amidst our panting and moans. He asked again, somewhat uneasily, then seemed to relax, increasing his speed and force. Soon, he collapsed onto me, exhausted, panting heavily. "That phrase really has a powerful effect," I said, laughing as I held him tightly. "...Heh...it feels like getting the key..." He propped himself up, sweating profusely, looked at me, gently pecked my lips, then smiled and hugged me back tightly. So that was it...the fuse that made everything spiral out of control... I secretly etched the strength of his embrace and his sweet, dizzying smile into my mind and heart. I didn't know if I should say goodbye...but I didn't want to see him again...

so I chose to leave without saying a word. Nice to meet you, stranger.

(Word count: 14091)

[The End]

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