My one-night stand with a beautiful TV news anchor

I've been registered on sex8 for over half a year, mostly lurking and not posting anything, at most participating in discussions. Recently, I've seen quite a few genuine original posts on this forum, which has made me itchy to share my own little story with everyone, hoping to get your support and affirmation.

This happened around Christmas time in late 2005; I don't really remember the exact date. At that time, I had just graduated from the best university in the province, and my future was uncertain. I didn't know whether I should join the vast job market and fight tooth and nail for a position, or try to organize my personal information and apply to schools in North America to continue my graduate studies. I was quite confused at this crossroads in my life, but fortunately, my best friend from high school, AA, had also graduated from a university in another province and returned to our city. She was also in a similar state of confusion, so we often hung out together.

Although it was called hanging out, we both had decent part-time jobs that weren't strenuous and offered flexible hours. So during that time, we liked to go to bars. In that environment of mixed aromas of alcohol, pungent smoke, and deafening live music, we would calm our minds and contemplate the direction of our lives.

Social bars were very popular in our city. The fact that Alan's chain was booming when it first opened was proof of this. Passing notes and making calls on the table replaced the awkward attempts to strike up a conversation, which was what AA and I enjoyed most—it was incredibly fun and worth it.

We were both the kind of young people with our own ideas, so we generally didn't follow the crowd to bars with big names. For example, when Alan first opened, we were regulars, basically spending weekends there and going on weekdays whenever we had free time. Later, as Alan became more famous, many pseudo-rich young men and older men went there with the intention of one-night stands, and we gradually went less often. However, almost every time we went to Alan, the phone on my and AA's table would ring several times, and we received quite a few notes every night. So much so that a young woman named ZZ became acquainted with us and later became our designated note-giver at Alan. AA and ZZ later had a brief romance, but that's not the focus of this article, so I won't go into details.

When we gradually stopped going to Alan, we returned to the so-called bar street to find some bars that weren't too crowded but still had good taste. However, I must admit that AA and I have high standards for music; if there's live music, we don't want to listen to DJ sets, and if it's a DJ set, we don't want to go to bars with a disco vibe. But after searching and trying different places, we still couldn't find a bar that completely satisfied us. Finally, after much compromise, we decided to go to the most recommended, and also the most clichéd, place called "Beloved."

Beloved is quite famous in our city because it claims to "only talk to strangers" and is known for having the highest rate of one-night stands. Therefore, the great reputation also brought considerable negative effects. The quality of the customers varied greatly, and many went with the intention of having one-night stands. However, because the bar owners had good taste and ample funds, they could hire decent live performers. Whether it was a band or a solo artist, their skill level was quite good.

To be honest, neither AA nor I were exactly innocent men. Although we didn't say it out loud, we still had expectations for this place. This wasn't surprising at all. I had seen my beautiful English teacher from high school there, who had recently divorced her wealthy husband; I had also seen the owner of a five-store image consulting chain; and I had even seen a female client manager working in the housekeeping department of the Sofia Hotel. It's clear that people who are unhappy in life subconsciously hope to compensate for their unhappiness through one-night stands.

That night, AA and I finished eating fish head hotpot outside, and feeling quite warm, we naturally thought of going to our favorite place for some drinks and to continue chatting, so we drove there. We were quite discreet when we entered; in winter, we always wear a dark-colored trench coat, so we didn't stand out at all. After checking our coats and bags in, we realized that 10 pm was a bit late for a Saturday night, the first live show was almost over, and the seats were mostly full.

Y-jie, a waitress we knew, showed us around but couldn't find any particularly good seats, so she ended up arranging for us at the bar. Although it was the bar, it was actually a very inconspicuous spot, right behind the live stage. To see the performance, we had to turn our heads, and we could only see the performers' backs, which was a little disappointing. But given the circumstances, we made do, especially since Y-jie promised to seat us as soon as there was an opening.

To be honest, maybe because AA and I are relatively unsightly, and our clothing and style are considered mature and tasteful for our age, we stood out quite a bit in the almost intimidatingly loud environment after taking off our trench coats. Not long after we sat down, we received a note with nothing written on it, just a row of question marks—? ??? ??? ??? ???. AA and I were already used to these ambiguous notes. So, after Y told us which table it came from, AA and I asked her to bring eight Heinekens to their table. There were about four girls at that table. After confirming there were no other male companions, AA and I went over to say hello and, incidentally, check out the quality of their table.

Once there, AA and I found an opportunity to sit down, and Y conveniently opened all eight Heinekens. AA and I each took one, clinked glasses with the girls at the table, and took a small sip. To be honest, I couldn't really tell their ages because their makeup was so heavy, completely obscuring any clues to their age. However, their speech was deliberately affectedly sweet and affected, which made me a little uncomfortable.

The girl who wrote the note, XX, greeted me first, which gave me a good look. She didn't seem very tall, though I might not be entirely sure since she was sitting. Her face was a little chubby, but her upper body was quite nice, somewhere between slim and curvy. Her outfit was rather ordinary: a black cotton short-sleeved bodysuit with jeans, clearly outlining her chest and waist. Unfortunately, the jewelry around her neck was obviously cheap silver-plated, with poor luster and design. I secretly categorized her as one of those tacky types.

Needless to say, AA's taste in women was slightly better than mine; she had already lost interest in this group of girls with their thick pink skin, but she still pretended to mince words, making them laugh. I remained silent. Soon, about fifteen minutes later, we politely said goodbye, declined their offer to sit at the same table, and returned to our original spot at the bar.

It seems XX misunderstood me, thinking I had a good impression of her or something, so she sat down next to me and expertly poured some whiskey from our table. At this point, AA seemed a little annoyed. Actually, I also dislike girls who act all friendly and come over to casually ask for drinks. So we exchanged a glance, and I told her that we had a female companion coming over later, and if she didn't mind, we could go sing karaoke after we finished drinking. I deliberately emphasized that it would just be her alone. She seemed a little confused, glanced back at her own table, bit her lip, said "we'll talk about it later," and tactfully left.

Just as AA and I were laughing and discussing the girls at that table, especially XX, two girls appeared at the bar entrance, instantly attracting the attention of men in every corner of the bar. One was tall and the other short, the tall one voluptuous and the short one slender. Their clothing was just right, not out of place, but it made the women in the bar appear somewhat inferior. Sister Y led the two of them around the entrance, searching for a suitable spot, but it was almost 11 o'clock, the busiest time at the restaurant, and it was unlikely that any customers would leave at the last minute. Therefore, they returned empty-handed.

Y-jie was very considerate of us, arranging for the two girls to sit next to AA and me. We politely offered Y-jie a drink. At the time, AA was to my left, and the two girls were to my right. The taller, fuller-figured girl was right next to me, while the shorter, slimmer girl was next to her. I wondered if the other men in the bar would assume they were our companions, but that didn't matter; at least we had the opportunity to get to know them.

Sitting closer, I realized that height is relative. Although the difference in height was quite noticeable, the shorter girl was actually about 165cm tall, and with heels, she was probably around 170cm. The girl who already looked tall, barefoot, was about 170cm, but because she was wearing a fashion hat, she seemed even taller. I looked at the taller girl's profile under the dim lights behind the stage, finding her features very beautiful, with an alluring curve that made me reluctant to look away.

AA then whispered to me that the slimmer girl was very nice, and he thought she was quite good. I looked at the slender girl again, and she really was tall. Even so, she wasn't sickly thin; on the contrary, she was healthily slim. Calling a tall girl "plump" seemed a bit inaccurate; frankly, without the stark contrast of the girl next to her, she would probably be considered on the thinner side. Both of their outfits and the small details they wore were very nice—the kind of taste that's fashionable without being ostentatious, similar to mine and AA's. I figured our levels weren't too far apart.

To be honest, I'm not very good at striking up conversations without any strategy. So I asked Y to get two glasses, poured two glasses of whiskey, and I took them to the next table, while AA also took one to her favorite. When my eyes first met HH's, I involuntarily felt a little flustered, and I awkwardly offered her a drink. Somewhat surprisingly, I read a hint of unease and panic in her eyes, and both of them, without prior arrangement, declined our offer.

It's actually quite normal for girls to refuse drinks, because many people worry about drinks being spiked. AA and I have seen this happen more than once in bars. After she refused, I laughed, didn't say anything more, and downed both glasses of whiskey on the rocks. My mouth and stomach felt burning. AA naturally did the same.

Although we didn't drink our drinks, we didn't pester them anymore and went back to our seats. Then the third live performance started, a great male-female duo singing several English songs. I only recognized "Whiskey Lullaby" and "Creep." But honestly, it was really great, and I unconsciously sang along; it felt very cathartic and emotional.

When AA and I came back to our senses from enjoying the live performance, the two girls next to us were gone. We didn't really think about it or look for where they had moved to. Because then another note arrived, written in crooked handwriting—"Do you also like Radiohead?" I suspect it's because I was so engrossed in my creeps that someone saw me. But the messy handwriting was hard to decipher.

Just as AA and I were pondering how to respond, the girl who wrote the note came over. "Woman" would be a more accurate description; she had a neat hairstyle, a confident expression, and an outfit that had a touch of office lady style, probably close to 30. I'm not really interested in mature women, especially since she was likely an office lady. AA, that rascal, excused himself to go to the restroom and left, leaving me and this woman staring at each other.

To be honest, this woman was quite charming—beautiful, with flawless makeup. Her speech was natural, sophisticated, and unpretentious. But I'm really not into that kind of thing, so I just let it be.

I didn't have much experience handling these situations and felt quite nervous. To avoid embarrassment, my eyes darted around, and I half-heartedly responded to her.

Just then, I suddenly saw HH and her slender female friend. They were sitting at another table not far from us, with a bottle of gin and some snacks on it, probably a gift from the bar. Later, when we talked about this, HH said that my eyes had a hint of pleading in them, though I didn't think so myself.

AA, probably seeing my embarrassment from a distance, couldn't stand it anymore and came over to help me get rid of the woman with a few words. His verbal skills are impressive, his heart is big enough, and his skin is thick enough—all things I can't match. Before I could even thank AA for his help, Sister Y had already floated over, smiling, and said that the two ladies over there asked us to sit down, then looked at HH and their table.

I have to admit, at that moment, I felt a surge of joy, and my intuition told me that something was bound to happen tonight.

Just as Sister Y was helping us move the bottle and glasses over, some men were already making advances towards HH and their companion. I saw a man who looked to be about 40 years old, holding a glass of gin, talking to HH, while HH didn't even seem to look at him properly. As we approached, the older man seemed somewhat frightened, saying to HH, "Oh, you have friends here? I'm so sorry." He was bowing and scraping, which disgusted me. After we

sat down, AA and I tacitly separated the two girls, almost like we were claiming seats. AA naturally sat next to the slender girl he liked; he always preferred people who were both thin. HH and I naturally sat on the other side. HH generously clinked glasses with me, saying, "I was so sorry for suspecting you were bad people earlier." I laughed wildly, even with a hint of wickedness, as HH would say. But I'm really a very naive person.

In bars, everyone wears a mask; no one ever pries into other people's professions, ages, or other private matters. Besides, I'm not good at finding topics or having a good conversation, so I just followed the unspoken rules and chatted casually with HH. Sometimes we'd have conversations all four of us together. AA was quite talented at it; his beloved NN was constantly giggling with delight from him. HH, on the other hand, was relatively quiet, as was I.

But during this quiet time, I actually had a chance to really observe HH. Her delicate makeup accentuated her almost flawless skin; every detail was perfect. The alluring curves of her face were still incredibly captivating, her fair neck shimmered, and her beautiful collarbones were prominent, as if telling everyone about the beauty of her body. Her breasts trembled slightly with her breath, displaying a fatal curve. Her waistline was sharply defined, showing no excess fat. For a moment, I seemed to be stunned.

HH coldly asked me, "What are you thinking about?" Her words seemed to carry a hint of displeasure. Had she noticed my gaze lingering on her? I don't know why, but I casually said, "The curves of your face are beautiful." At that moment, I noticed a flicker of sadness in HH's eyes, which quickly returned to normal. Unexpectedly, just because of that one sentence, HH and I seemed to break down our barriers and quickly became familiar with each other.

HH said she was working very hard, and it was mentally exhausting. She had been working hard for her dream, but unexpectedly, in the process of realizing it, she encountered a lot of irrelevant and inexplicable pressure, forcing her to slow down her pursuit of her dream to accommodate this pressure. I can really understand this feeling, after all, I am also standing at a crossroads in my life, unable to tell which way to go. It's just that the temptations from each fork are so great that I can't tell which way to go.

Although this is different in nature from pressure, the feeling is roughly the same.

AA and I ordered a large fruit platter and some snacks, and drank glass after glass of wine. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood. I secretly glanced at NN; her complexion was normal, but her smile was a little uncontrollable. She kept whispering to AA behind my and HH's backs, and AA seemed quite happy too. HH, sitting in front of me, had a slightly flushed face, a peachy red from the whiskey and gin, which evoked a sense of pity. My head was already slightly spinning from the alcohol, but I felt quite pleased to be with this girl beside me, who was excellent in appearance, taste

, and conversation. Later, there were bartending and fire-breathing performances in the bar. Whether it was intentional or the performers were inexperienced, there were many mistakes, but we still watched and chatted with great interest. A subtle emotion was spreading among the four of us. NN and AA, who had started by whispering, were now almost whispering intimately, like two lovers deeply in love. HH and I sat closer and closer, our hands occasionally touching, intentionally or unintentionally. That delicate, warm feeling sent electric shocks through my body, and I felt almost intoxicated.

Suddenly, HH leaned close to my ear and whispered, "You know, I saw you as soon as I walked in, looking like an annoying rich kid." Then she turned her face away, her breath brushing against my ear, revealing a bright smile. I leaned close to her ear too, and said with a hint of mischief, "That's not fair, because from the moment you walked in, I thought you and NN were both very beautiful." HH said somewhat coquettishly, "Then who do you think is prettier, me or her? You can only choose one." It seemed she had received many ambiguous answers before. I reached out and took her hand, gently stroking her index finger with a slightly teasing touch, and asked, "What do you think?" HH smiled again, her smile still warm, letting my heartbeat in her palm as it did in her heart.

On this cold winter night, time slipped away in this exchange of heartfelt words and leisurely melancholy.

It was nearly two in the morning, almost closing time for the bar. We'd all had our fill of drinks, and it was time to go our separate ways. Often, at this hour, I'd help AA hail a taxi, then drive off with his night's prey, while I'd stagger to the parking spot, window down, blasting CDs, and head back to my place. There was no other way; when it came to getting involved with girls, I was as innocent as a newborn, while AA was a seasoned pro.

But this night was different from those other nights that were now history. I could finally walk out of the bar with my head held high, no longer watching the taxi carrying AA and a woman who was completely subservient to him grow smaller and smaller. The moment I stepped outside, the cold air hit me, instantly jolting me from the warm, fragrant atmosphere of the bar. Looking at HH walking side-by-side with me, her alluring profile suddenly made me wonder: why am I living such a decadent life? And how long will this woman remain in my life?

But the alcohol of the night quickly took over my thoughts again, my mind gradually becoming sluggish, even somewhat impulsive. To be honest, I'm not a beast like AA, especially when faced with a girl who fascinates me so much. I'm unwilling to prolong this relationship with just a few hours of sexual pleasure. After AA hailed a taxi and told NN to get in, he waved to me and called out, "HH is going the same way as us, why don't you drive first?"

I knew what AA meant. On the surface, he wanted me to go first and give AA a ride with NN; in reality, he wanted me to drive HH away. At that moment, I made a decision I would deeply regret. I awkwardly said, "Then you guys give HH a ride, I'll drive myself." AA's face revealed a look that screamed "idiot!" HH, hearing my words, seemed somewhat taken aback, nodded hesitantly, and then turned to walk towards AA's taxi.

Watching HH's retreating figure, I felt a pang of pain for some reason—the pain of missing out on something beautiful. For a moment, I felt a chill, my expression blank. Then, HH suddenly turned and walked towards me, saying in a distant tone, "Let's hug as goodbye," and slightly bent his arms. I don't quite remember how I pulled HH into my arms. The cold winter night air was penetrating, but it didn't affect the soft, fragrant warmth of the body in my arms; I could even feel HH trembling slightly.

The shrewd AA, seeing this scene from afar, understood and got into the car with NN, speeding away. Later, AA described NN as quite skilled in bed; they maintained contact afterward, meeting several times before AA went to Germany, each time ending in a night of passion until dawn—but that's another story.

HH and I embraced at the door of our beloved place, neither of us wanting to let go. I don't know where I got the courage, but I whispered in her ear, "Don't go home tonight, okay?" As soon as I said that, my heart pounded rapidly, and time seemed to stand still.

Utter silence. That's all I can say. Utter silence. It was so quiet that I wasn't even sure if HH had actually nodded in my arms, but the result was that I naturally took HH's hand and walked towards where I had parked. Although it was natural, my hands were actually trembling quite badly, and HH wasn't exactly relaxed either, letting me lead her with a slightly shy air.

I occasionally glanced at HH; her already rosy face looked even redder in the cold air, and her legs seemed long and slender as she walked. I was even secretly glad I was 180cm tall, otherwise, walking down the street with someone as tall as HH would definitely not have looked very elegant. When we arrived at my Ford Focus hatchback, I politely opened the passenger door for HH, let her in, and then got into the driver's seat.

There's not much to say about the details of our conversation in the car. HH kept emphasizing that we shouldn't go to my place, probably because she was afraid of some danger, just like with that glass of whiskey at the beginning. Actually, this kind of caution isn't wrong, especially in a city as dazzling yet dangerous as this.

Finally, as she requested, we drove to a world-renowned chain hotel. Of course, just in case, I didn't ask the front desk to arrange a room; I changed rooms instead. Actually, at that moment, I was also reminded that one should always be cautious, but looking back now, it was completely unnecessary.

Real life is completely different from the plots in novels or movies that flood the internet. We often see scenes of a man and a woman arriving at a hotel, taking a bath together without saying a word, and then starting to do *that*, but in reality, it's completely different. We sat awkwardly on the chairs on the terrace, one on each side, gazing at the brightly lit bridge on the dark sea in the distance, and the scattered lights on the opposite shore, unable to utter a single word. Just

as the atmosphere was about to freeze, a spark ignited in my heart, as if God had descended upon me. I suddenly remembered Amei's song, "Listen to the Sea." Unexpectedly, music was the topic that resonated most with HH and me. We talked more and more about it, even feeling like we'd known each other for a long time. We started talking about Huang Guolun, a Taiwanese musician who wasn't as famous then as he is now, to the late Yang Minghuang, and the perfect pairing of Xu Changde and Liu Tianjian, even including many singers who weren't commercially successful but whom we admired greatly, such as Lin Fan, Jiang Desheng, Xu Zhepei, and Yi Qi.

We chatted like two long-lost friends, and at times even broke into loud singing, oblivious to everyone else. Indeed, there was no one else in the room, but we were facing strangers we'd only known for a few hours, connected only by a fleeting moment of understanding. So we were truly oblivious to everyone else.

I went to take a shower first, and my mind was a complete blur the whole time. The blurriness was probably because the effects of the alcohol were wearing off, and also because I had been singing loudly and enthusiastically with HH earlier. I was feeling very uneasy, sometimes excited and sometimes nervous. I didn't even know what I should wear when I left the bathroom. In the end, I stupidly wrapped a large bath towel around my waist, wore a long-sleeved shirt, and went out with my hair still wet.

HH remained seated on the balcony chair, seemingly unmoved. Hearing me emerge from the bathroom, she hesitated slightly before turning to look at me, then burst into laughter, her smile as bright and warm as ever. This smile effectively eased the awkwardness of my strange attire.

Whether it was because HH's shower was genuinely long, or because I was lost in my own thoughts in the room, time seemed to drag on endlessly; I even considered giving up. But HH finally came out, and seeing her emerge from the shower made me feel somewhat flustered, even aroused.

HH's hair, still fragrant with shampoo, was draped over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed and damp. A towel covered her from her chest to her legs perfectly. Yet, her breasts remained proudly erect, and her feet, now slipped from her heels into slippers, still appeared fair and slender. Her hands rested somewhat awkwardly at her sides, as if afraid of revealing something.

My final, after much deliberation, decision was to get HH a can of drink from the freezer. It was a rather lame idea, but I couldn't think of anything else. Besides, we'd been drinking strong liquor all night; a drink would help us cool down. For some reason, we didn't sit down on the chairs on the terrace, but instead stood there awkwardly

, not too close, not too far apart, with our drinks. I don't even remember what we said; my memory was so hazy back then. The drinking session ended with us embracing tightly, like we were at the door of a lover's home. This time, there was no cold wind outside, only the real warmth of her body in my arms. In that instant, I understood what it meant to wish time could stop, to freeze that moment forever. I leaned closer, looking at HH's playful earlobe, and gently kissed it. I felt HH's body tremble in my arms.

This small detail was even more intoxicating than the two thick, warm mounds against my chest. I moved my face further, greedily kissing HH's left cheek. HH closed her eyes, even unintentionally tightening her grip on my waist, and that expression made my heart ache again. I didn't know if I could bring HH happiness; I had even transcended the fact that this was just a one-night stand and become filled with pity.

I don't know where the thought came from, but suddenly I bent down and pulled HH into my arms. HH shyly shrank her head, her brows slightly furrowed. I slowly walked to the bedside, carefully placed HH on the soft bedding, and then, without hesitation, pressed my lips to hers. I don't quite remember if I was kneeling on the floor beside the bed or sitting on the edge, but later I shifted my position to cover her. Our lips intertwined, never separating.

I also forgot whether it was me or HH who first extended our tongues to explore, but eventually, we were locked in a passionate embrace. However, at that moment, I felt a fleeting regret, because I clearly sensed that HH had brushed her teeth after showering; besides the faint taste of the beverage she had just drunk, her mouth was mostly filled with the clean, fresh scent of toothpaste. I'd forgotten to brush my teeth after showering, so I figured my breath still smelled strongly of alcohol. I peeked at HH's expression; she seemed fine, so I relaxed.

Our kiss grew more intense; HH's hands were practically pressing mine against her face, while I slowly withdrew my right hand, caressing her ear, ear canal, and the back of her neck, teasing her with varying speeds. Her breathing began to change, and my heart raced, my erection rising higher and higher. Just as I was about to deliver a deep kiss to her neck, I clearly felt HH tilt her head back, letting out a soft gasp.

HH's next move thrilled me; she gripped my hand tightly and placed it on her warm chest. Even through the towel and while lying on her back, HH's breasts remained firm and erect. I gently and lovingly stroked her, making circles, squeezing and kneading with varying pressure. HH's eyes were already glazed over, her lower lip slightly bitten, as soft as a drape of silk.

I slowly removed the towel wrapped around HH's body. Although I had fantasized countless times about how alluring her real body would be, seeing it in person still made my little beast head rise even higher in anger. I couldn't resist pressing my lips to the peak of her breasts, lovingly licking them with my wicked tongue, while my other hand was not idle, wandering back and forth between her other breast and her flat, smooth abdomen.

At one point, I understood that HH was not a novice in lovemaking. Because her hand had already slipped under my towel, stimulating my most passionate organ with a not-too-clumsy technique. At that moment, my masculine feelings took over, and I was slightly disappointed. What was the disappointment? I didn't really know. Maybe I just simply hoped that HH was as inexperienced as possible.

But the already hardened peak, its more open and swollen area than usual, seemed to urge me to go further. I moved my lips down from HH's chest to her delicate navel, while my right hand slid down, gently exploring her private area. HH still seemed unable to shake off her tension; although her body was somewhat stiff and her lips were biting down hard, her legs remained tightly closed.

My exploration of HH's private area encountered some resistance, but I continued to kiss and caress her. My right hand gently stroked her thighs, slowly parting them. A slight downward probe, and a warm, moist sensation immediately covered my palm. I gently pressed my palm against her private area, and the waves of pressure caused HH to unconsciously open her small mouth slightly, letting out a soft moan, her body becoming increasingly stiff.

My fingers, moist with desire, could already feel the granular protrusions on HH's vulva. I gently probed and stroked them with my index finger, and HH's legs involuntarily tightened again. Fortunately, my hand was still between her legs, so I switched to my thumb and stimulated it more forcefully. HH's brows were tightly furrowed, an expression of unbearable yet suppressed urges. With my increasingly forceful stimulation, her nasal voice grew heavier, and her breathing became more rapid.

When I wanted to insert my middle finger into HH's honey hole, I hesitated. It wasn't that there was any obstacle or anything, but I remembered that I hadn't trimmed my nails for a week, and I wondered if such a rough entry would cause HH discomfort or disgust. Most importantly, although I had showered, were there bacteria under my nails that might cause HH discomfort afterwards? So I abandoned the idea of directly inserting my finger into HH's body, and instead bent my finger back into my palm, using the second knuckle to continuously stimulate the entrance of HH's honey hole.

Unexpectedly, this stimulation brought HH pleasure. She relaxed her tightly closed legs, somewhat shyly allowing me to stimulate her private parts. Her slender waist twisted continuously, while one hand continued to move up and down inside my towel. This change made HH, lying naked on the bed, even more arousing. My penis was pressed tightly against my stomach; I knew she was waiting for my entry.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I threw off the cumbersome towel, slowly lifted HH's legs, knelt beneath her, and rubbed my hot penis against her entrance. HH eagerly awaited my touch. I guided my throbbing erection, rubbing it against her entrance, preparing to enter.

Her love juices continued to seep out, already wetting a patch of grass. But as I moved forward, I felt resistance from all sides. HH looked up at me, then at my penis, a suggestive smile on her face. I decided to temporarily set aside my tenderness, so I thrust my hips forward and, with a lingering, lingering motion, finally inserted most of myself into her honeyed depths.

HH let out an uncontrollable groan, and I was immediately overwhelmed by a tight, tingling sensation. My mind went blank for a moment; I didn't move an inch after entering her. It wasn't until HH reached out and gripped my hands tightly that I snapped out of my daze. Carefully supporting HH's waist, I began to tentatively and slowly thrust in and out. The increasingly smooth entry and exit made my masculine symbol feel increasingly pleasurable. But HH's reaction puzzled me.

I clearly saw a fleeting tear in HH's eye, though it was only for a moment, I still noticed it. Why? Was it because I hurt her, or was she feeling uncomfortable? As I hesitated, HH said to me somewhat absentmindedly, "Hurry up." A man receiving such a message during sex would never hesitate. So I held my breath and began thrusting at a faster pace, almost pulling out halfway each time before fully re-entering.

Under such thrusting, HH could no longer suppress herself, opening her mouth to moan softly, the sound growing louder, the speed increasing. Slowly, large patches of blush appeared on HH's face, chest, and lower abdomen, her hands tightly wrapped around me from behind, her parted legs occasionally entwining around my waist. I knew HH wasn't inexperienced, and must have reached the point of climax. So I placed my left hand on her full, round buttocks, and my right hand stimulated her hard clitoris, increasing the force of my thrusts.

Quickly, HH's whole body convulsed. She clung to me frantically, her legs wrapped tightly around my waist, even twisting her hips to meet my thrusts. I knew her orgasm was coming, so I deliberately stopped thrusting. She frantically twisted her hips back and forth, and I felt waves of pressure from all sides in the warm, moist environment. HH writhed a few times frantically, then tilted her head back, hugging me tightly and remaining motionless. Only my penis could still feel spasms. I knew she was enjoying an orgasm, so I continued thrusting forcefully, sending her to another orgasm.

I'm not the kind of person who boasts about how strong or powerful my sexual abilities are in erotic novels or martial arts films. To be honest, I can't hold back for more than 15 minutes of pure piston-like movement. And my biggest mistake was that I got too into it and didn't realize I'd ejaculated inside her when I pulled out. Of course, I'm not like some people who, months after a one-night stand, are told "Congratulations on becoming a father." I guess I escaped a disaster.

Later, I heard from AA that he and NN spent the whole night at Super8, and even extended their stay for another day, only separating after dinner the following evening. I said, "You little rascal, weren't you supposed to be a beast? Why did you linger so long this time?" AA shrugged with a sly expression, pretending to be helpless, and said, "When you meet a worthy opponent, you want to compete more. How could you miss such an opportunity?" Then he grinned mischievously. But I couldn't laugh, because my heart was filled with HH's tears.

After the passion ended, HH and I hugged each other, our bodies still sweaty in the winter, and fell asleep in each other's arms. Because we forgot to close the curtains on the terrace door, we both woke up simultaneously when the morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors. Seeing HH for the first time, remembering the madness of a few hours earlier, I felt my face burning, and HH also felt somewhat embarrassed.

It turned out that HH had just broken up with a rich second-generation heir, and the reason, of course, wasn't hers. So now she hates people dressed like rich kids to the core, which is why she was so disdainful of us when she first met AA and me at the bar. It turns out HH mistook us for young tycoons. HH, how could you know I'm still just an innocent child? Vast wealth and thousands of acres of fertile land are just legends to me.

HH said she's leaving this city that hurt her the day after tomorrow. Before leaving, she hopes to leave behind some beautiful memories to cover up the reasons for her sadness. She's so happy to have met me in a place called "Beloved," at least for giving her a night of feeling loved, and she feels very grateful. For a moment, I almost wanted to tell her to stay, for my sake. But I knew she was a few years older than me, so I remained silent.

I later realized how fortunate I was to have been silent then, because I didn't know how much of what HH said to me was true and how much was false. A few days later, I went to the dentist to have my wisdom tooth removed. After returning home, the anesthesia wore off, and the pain in the wound gradually intensified. Around midnight, I was too restless to sleep, so I turned on the TV, something I hadn't done in a long time. While grumbling about the quality of TV programs these days, I finally stopped at a music program.

I think the program was called "Love After Painful Reflection," and I can't quite remember the song that came on, but it was definitely a sad love song. I really love sad love songs, so I stayed there to watch the music video. After the video ended, I jumped back to the anchor desk, where an anchor was speaking melancholic and sorrowful lines, interpreting the meaning of love along with the song.

I steadied myself, making sure I wasn't mistaken—it was her! She had put on even more exquisite makeup than when I first saw her, and her little dress made her look exceptionally beautiful. Most importantly, her eyes still held that same sorrow as when she told me her story that morning. I forgot about my toothache and called AA. He seemed to still be sleeping, mumbling as he turned on the TV, and then fell silent on the other end of the line.

For several weeks in a row, every day in the early hours of the morning, I sacrificed all sleep and canceled all gatherings to watch this show. The topics were constantly evolving, and I finally understood what HH meant when she said you have to please and accommodate others at work. Because you need to pander to popular tastes, you have to use some mediocre songs, like those by Cai Yilin and Jay Chou.

But I still don't understand. If what HH said was true, she would have left my city long ago, instead of appearing so frequently on so many variety shows. If what she said was false, then why did every theme fit her story so perfectly, and why was the sadness in her eyes so real?

AA also tried to find out more from NN, but it was all in vain. AA even advised me, why bother finding out the truth? She has her reasons no matter what she says, just let her be. Are you really going to stay with her forever? It was supposed to be a one-night stand; when dawn broke, we went home separately.

One day near the Spring Festival, AA and I ran into NN again at our favorite place. She was alone, still so slim and lovely, surrounded by so many men. AA helped her out, but NN still wouldn't tell me where HH was, or even if she was still in the city. It's

been a long time since I left that place, and I haven't watched that TV program since. I don't know if the program is still running, or if HH is still hosting it. If she is, and still in that city, I hope she's doing well. Because I know that my story with her has long since ended.

Dawn broke, and we went home.

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[The End]

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My one-night stand with a beautiful TV news anchor

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