The unspoken rules I encountered as a civil servant

In 2007, I was a senior in college. I faced the dilemma of "graduation means unemployment" and "graduation means heartbreak." My boyfriend and I had been together for three years. In those three years, this strong man had transformed me from a shy girl into a mature woman. We had been living together for two years. On our one-year anniversary, fueled by alcohol, I gave myself to him. When his hot, hard penis, accompanied by a tearing pain, entered my body, years of emptiness were suddenly filled. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of emotion and tears. From then on, I became obsessed with sex. We, young and carefree, made love late at night on the playground, in deserted hallways, in early morning train carriages, on the bed, the floor, the windowsill of our rented room, and even in a crowded gazebo, sometimes wildly, sometimes repressively. I loved kneeling before him, letting him grab my hair and thrust into me violently; I loved him calling me "slut," "whore," and "bitch" during his orgasms, and slapping my breasts and buttocks hard; I loved him rubbing my clitoris with one hand while violently probing my vagina with the other until I convulsed and leaked fluids... But all
good things must come to an end. Before graduation, he found a job in the south, while I passed the civil service exam in my hometown and had to stay in a small city in the north. Due to the pressure of finding employment, neither of us gave up our jobs to follow the other, and we had to separate.
Soon after starting work, I felt the stifling atmosphere of the government office, feeling depressed all day. My longing for my boyfriend spread like weeds in my heart... especially my physical desires. I even learned to masturbate in various ways: I chatted with strangers in chat rooms, letting them tease me with all sorts of vulgar words; I had sex with strange men on the phone, pretending I could orgasm; I downloaded various "romance movies," imagining myself as the female lead...
Since I started working, many people have introduced me to potential partners. Perhaps I still harbored fantasies about my boyfriend who lived far away, or perhaps I felt that the people I met on blind dates were all too immature; in short, I couldn't develop feelings for anyone I clicked with. At the time, the deputy director of my unit, Director A, was very young, only in his early thirties. He always liked to hang out with us newly recruited young people, talking about work, studies, and life. We, the greenhorns, were flattered and flattered, feeling that this leader was truly approachable, which gave us newcomers without any "connections" a glimmer of hope for our future development.
The incident happened one sweltering summer afternoon. That day, a grassroots unit hosted a banquet for Director A, and as usual, he mentored a few of us. After lunch, everyone drank quite a bit, and the grassroots unit took us to a karaoke bar, booking several private rooms, saying we could sing and relax there until the effects of the alcohol wore off before returning to the unit. Since I usually only drank with a few people, I, as usual, drank quite a bit without any reservations, and, feeling dizzy, followed everyone into the private room. The noise inside made me dizzy, and when I felt the urge to urinate, I realized that only Director A and I were left in the private room, and I was leaning against him.
I was startled, sobering up considerably, and sat up abruptly from the sofa, asking blankly, "Director A, where are the others?" He said, "The room is too small, they went to another room. Why don't you sing with me?" Seeing that he didn't seem to care about the physical contact, I felt relieved. So, as usual, we drank and sang, finishing another bottle of red wine in less than half an hour. I don't know when, but Director A sat down next to me, took my hand, and started rubbing it… Perhaps it was the alcohol, but I slowly stopped resisting, letting him get closer and closer… until I was limp and powerless against him. It was summer, and I was only wearing a t-shirt and a denim skirt. Soon, his hands were moving up and down, one hand pushing up my bra and kneading my breasts, the other lifting my skirt and touching my genitals through my underwear… I knew this wouldn't work, but my body couldn't lie. My hands offered only token resistance, but my nipples immediately hardened, and the lustful fluids flowing from my lower body quickly soaked my underwear.
Director A, of course, was an expert. He kissed me roughly, his tongue forcefully prying open my teeth and sucking hard on my tongue. At the same time, he withdrew his hand from my lower body, took my hand, and guided it into his undone pants. I felt a sudden emptiness in my lower body. The moment my small hand touched his already erect penis, I couldn't help but grasp it, skillfully stroking it as I used to do for my boyfriend. He shuddered, grabbed my hair, and shoved my face down to his crotch. I resisted for a moment—no—he pulled out his thick penis, and with a forceful push, roughly forced my head down. Before my mouth could close, he swallowed it. Because of the force, the penis plunged into my throat, and tears streamed down my face. He ignored me, grabbing my head and thrusting hard. After a dozen or so thrusts, my tears, saliva, and snot covered his genitals. He pulled out his penis, and I crawled to the sofa beside me, gasping for breath, my body limp. He then pushed me down onto the sofa, lifted my skirt, pulled down my underwear, pressed one hand against my buttocks, and held his penis with the other... It all happened in a flash. Before I could even react, he thrust into my already overflowing vagina—we both sighed simultaneously—my hot, wet vagina tightly gripped his penis, my body, empty for almost a year, was filled again. Just that one thrust made me feel like I was flying. I realized how wanton I was...
What followed was like having sex with my boyfriend. He slapped my breasts and buttocks, calling me a bitch, and made me kneel on the ground while he thrust into me violently from behind. Our lower bodies collided intensely, accompanied by the continuous flow of vaginal fluid, making a beautiful slapping sound... Half an hour later, he made me use my hands to stimulate his penis and ejaculated his thick, white semen onto my face.
For almost an hour, no one came in to disturb us; everyone probably knows what happened. From then on, we would find an opportunity to go wild almost every month. I despised myself, but I couldn't live without his penis, and at the same time, I thought that at least I had a backer in the government office... This relationship lasted for almost a year until he was transferred.
I didn't gain anything; the long-term wildness only made me more promiscuous. Not long after, I got involved with another married man in the office, not just because of that feeling, but also because he was tall and strong, and his penis was thicker and longer... Even now, I have no interest in seriously looking for someone to marry; I just live this licentious and absurd civil servant life in a daze. ...

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The unspoken rules I encountered as a civil servant

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