My second affair with a colleague

There's always a second time after the first.

With nothing to do and my sweetheart far away, browsing a sex forum made me think about our past. Let me tell you the story of our second affair.

The second affair was both inevitable and accidental.

Why inevitable? Because after our first affair, a second was bound to happen sooner or later. This time, however, it was accidental, leading to our second complete surrender of ourselves to each other.

It was around this time last year, in the sweltering heat of summer, with cicadas chirping. My company sent me to a pointless, officially mandated training program—a system designed to collect money without regard for results.

I went to register; the registration area was on the third floor. Just as I reached the first-floor stairwell, I bumped into her and her friends carrying small bags, coming down the stairs. We didn't work in the same company, so I didn't know she was also attending the training. We saw each other and couldn't help but gasp in surprise, simultaneously exclaiming, "Ah!" This drew considerable confusion from those around us. With so many people around, it wasn't convenient to talk, so we exchanged a smile and passed by.

I was overjoyed; it was like divine intervention. I immediately thought I had to take her to a hotel room this time.

I signed my name on the registration form, grabbed the dormitory key from the training instructor, and ran to the dormitory. I wondered if she was there.

As soon as I reached the dormitory door, I heard her cheerful laughter and voice.

She and her female companion lived in the dormitory next to mine.

Entering this deserted school dormitory—a place where the government-run facilities were used to support mistresses, concubines, officials' wives, and distant relatives—a place with countless connections to those in power, my heart sank in the sweltering heat.

The conditions were so poor that there was no reason to compliment them: in the sweltering heat, there was only an old-fashioned fan whirring overhead; a worn-out straw mat, worn and tattered from countless years of wear and tear; a rickety, dusty wooden bed; although the windows had been opened by early arrivals, the air was still thick with the musty smell of long-abandoned rooms… The only bright spot was that the mosquito net was new. I

laid out a curtain, tossed my luggage onto the bed, and thought, "Oh well, I'm too lazy to make the bed anyway, I wasn't planning on staying here.

" I went outside pretending to wash my hands, but peeked through the crack in the door: What was she doing? Making the bed! She had everything neatly arranged. Was this girl really planning to stay here? I

had a class in the afternoon, and to be with her, I ignored my fatigue and hurried to find a hotel. My principles were: price didn't matter, firstly, it had to be safe, and secondly, the conditions had to be good enough. After all, finding a hotel that was both unsafe and in poor condition would be very disappointing.

After a morning of searching, I finally chose a government guesthouse. Actually, the most important thing about a hotel is safety, and the safest places are government guesthouses or military-run hotels. No one dares to mess with these places.

I once stayed at a military-run hotel; the security guards at the entrance were all in uniform, the staff were also in uniform, and there were military insignia everywhere in the rooms. The security there was absolutely top-notch; no one would come here to cause trouble, and there would be no police checking the rooms.

Enough with the small talk, let's get to the point.

I arrived early for class this afternoon, managing to snag an extra seat. Every time someone tried to sit next to me, I told them it was taken.

When the teacher arrived, she still hadn't shown up.

My heart was pounding. Had she just registered briefly and gone home?

Just as I was feeling anxious, the door opened.

She walked in, her long hair flowing smoothly and softly, damp with moisture; a pink and white suit, its hem fluttering gracefully. At that moment, I felt like everyone in the room was staring at her. Perhaps everyone was asking: "Whose wife is she?" She was stunning. She

walked straight to me, tossed her long hair, and gracefully sat down in the empty seat next to me.

At that moment, my heart pounded with a mixture of joy and pressure. All the men's eyes were on me, scanning us with questioning glances, wondering: what was their relationship?

The air was filled with a wonderfully fragrant aroma, and for some reason, I blushed and couldn't utter a single word.

She spoke first, softly, "Why are you here too?" "Looking for you." "No way! If you'd known I was coming, you'd have been calling me non-stop!" Hearing this, I was speechless again. Usually, I'm eloquent, but at that moment, I was completely at a loss for words.

The class began, and the teacher on stage spoke incoherently. The students, all accustomed to giving and receiving lectures, were sitting upright, their presentations superb, their notebooks scribbling away like silkworms eating mulberry leaves.

Only the two of us were out of the loop, completely unprepared.

I quickly got up, ran to the convenience store outside, and bought a pair of matching pens—notebooks with pictures of a loving couple printed on the covers.

When I handed her the notebook and pen, she glanced at the pen, then at the notebook, and couldn't help but give me a faint smile: "Thank you! Your mind works pretty fast." Having a beautiful woman around is a huge distraction; I could completely ignore the trembling, scripted recitation on stage.

After their performance, they even started to slack off. Some were daydreaming, some were slumped over their desks, and some were whispering… Whether she was genuine or not, she was taking notes very diligently.

I tore a small piece of paper from the notebook and wrote a few words: "It's so hot, I've already booked a room. Let's get a room." Looking back, it was quite explicit, but of course, it was understandable, given our first time together.

She glanced at the note, then just held it in her hand and said nothing more.

No more, no more. She was right next to me, which made me feel secure, so I didn't think much of it.

I quickly refocused my attention on the training session.

Not long after, she kicked my foot and gestured with her chin, indicating something was up.

I looked and saw a note at her feet. I was overjoyed and quickly picked it up.

It read, "Big brother, this is a classroom, boohoo, be careful I tell the teacher." Following it was a cute girl's smiling face.

This girl, I'm really impressed.

I listened attentively to the lecture: I won't go into the details of what advanced something was being discussed, as that would be too sarcastic.

Towards the end, my mind started wandering again, glancing at her ample breasts, her knee-length skirt, and her delicate white hands… As soon as the lecture ended at 5:30, I pushed my pen and notebook next to her, said, "Wait for my call," and rushed out of the classroom.

Back at the hotel, I quickly showered and got ready.

Seeing it was almost 6, I hurriedly called her.

It was lively on her end; she said, "Wait a bit, I'll call you back." I knew she was definitely with her female companions.

Waiting for her call felt like an eternity; I was restless in the cool, pleasant hotel room.

Fortunately, her call came shortly afterward.

"Are you getting impatient? Don't worry, just wait a little longer. I'll call you back in half an hour. I called you first so you wouldn't get anxious." The last sentence, in particular, was sweet. It seemed like there was a chance; otherwise, why would a woman not care about your feelings if she didn't have feelings for you?

Half an hour later, she called me back, but I could no longer hear her lively voice on the other end.

I said, "The room is booked. Shall I take a taxi to pick you up?"

"Wouldn't we be too mean? We already messed up once, didn't we agree not to mess up a second time? Think about it, is what you're doing right?" "Why not? It's just too hot. The conditions are too bad, I'm afraid my little darling will get too hot." "Haha, that's a good reason. Thanks for your concern, but I'm not going. I can't get over it mentally. I could convince myself the first time, but how can I convince myself the second time?" "Baby, come on over, I'll help you convince her."

Another laugh came from the phone: "Tell me now, if you convince me, I'll come." It seemed like she was softening a little.

“I’m telling you, these are special times. Your phone might be being tapped by some unknown organization. Besides, this isn’t something that can be resolved in a few words. Come here, come here and I’ll make you admit it.” “You bastard, spare me, okay? Can’t I really get over this?”

“Come here, let’s work together to persuade her. Many hands make light work.”

“You’re really the problem.”

“Come here, come here, you can vent your anger on me.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll take a taxi to pick you up in a bit.”

“Okay, I’ll make the arrangements and head outside.”

I quickly rushed out of the hotel, hailed a taxi, and told the driver I was there to pick someone up.

As soon as I turned onto that road, I saw her from afar. She was walking this way, and she stood out so much among the crowd.

I said to the driver, “That’s her, the one up ahead.”

The driver said, “I saw her. I knew it was her even without you saying it.”

“How did you know, sir?”

“She’s very eye-catching, and she’s a good match for you. Who else could it be?”

The car stopped precisely in front of her, and I quickly rolled down the window, gesturing for her to get in.

She quickly got in and pulled the curtain closed.

I quickly closed my window too.

The driver seemed to understand our thoughts, and immediately started the car, turning towards the hotel.

Perhaps he'd seen this many times before, and knew exactly what we were going to do.

"I'm so angry! They've all run off, not one of them is with me."

"It's so hot, who's going to stay where? I told you so, but you wouldn't believe me, not your husband. None of your female companions care about you like your husband does." Hearing that it was her husband, she couldn't help but blush and smile.

The car arrived at the hotel quickly. I paid the driver whatever he asked for, and at the end, I said very politely, "Thank you, sir." The driver just smiled and nodded at me, without replying, and drove off.

I don't know how she felt, but watching her drive alongside me, my heart was pounding, and of course, I was overjoyed.

It was so hot outside. We went to a cool and comfortable hotel. As soon as I closed the door, I pulled

her into my arms. She couldn't help but laugh. "You naughty boy, so persistent! They've all run away. If there had been even one of them, I wouldn't have come!" I didn't answer, just kissed her. She pushed me away and said, "Like a kitten, I'm here now, I won't run away. Tonight is yours. Why worry about a little while?" That's how women are. When you can penetrate her most precious and mysterious place, even just once, she won't forget it. She'll think she's yours, and you've reached her heart. Without reaching that point, no matter how much you touch, kiss, or cling, it's all in vain.

There's a classic saying among seasoned lechers: the vagina is the path to a woman's soul.

While we were out eating, I quickly made a few phone calls to avoid being bothered at a crucial moment. Hearing those familiar, warm, and caring words, I felt a little guilty and secretly blamed myself.

I quickly finished my meal and brought her some food.

When I got to her room, I called her.

The door was only slightly ajar. I was puzzled, so I went in to see what was going on. She had just showered, put on her underwear, and was still rubbing her snow-white thighs.

I was a little stunned. Looking at me, she smiled shyly.

I said, "You must be starving."

"Not really, let's eat."

I stroked her breasts.

"Okay, wait for me in bed." She

had just finished eating and was about to come to me when her phone rang.

She answered, her voice sweet as she called out, "Husband."

The hotel was quiet, and although I couldn't hear what was being said on the phone, I could feel a man's concerned voice. She kept saying, "Yes, I'll take care of myself. Don't worry about me... Take care of the children, I miss you all too." Then came a sweet child's voice: "Mommy, Mommy..." "Daughter, listen to Daddy, Mommy will bring you a little gift when I get home, kiss Mommy." She hung up and stood by the window.

I quickly got up and pulled her into my arms.

I could feel her body trembling slightly.

I carried her to bed and covered her with the blanket.

We held each other tightly for a long time.

Suddenly, she whispered in my ear, "We'll go to hell. Just a moment ago I was a virtuous wife and loving mother, and now I'm ruined with you. I'd give up my reputation for you." At that moment, I was speechless, my heart aching. I could only softly say, "I love you." I regret not meeting her before I was married.

Actually, we did meet before I was married, but I didn't seize the opportunity, or perhaps it was too late.

Time flies, and ten years later we met again. It was like we'd known each other forever. We reappeared in each other's lives, becoming the most beautiful note in each other's lives once more.

After regaining my composure, I began my advances. While she was passively resisting, I undressed her, facing her beautiful body.

My hands caressed her entire body, my mouth licked and sucked her breasts, and finally, I focused on the most mysterious and precious parts of a woman. After some foreplay, her body slowly responded, and she became passionate.

She lay flat on her back, legs slightly parted, completely exposing herself to me. At that moment, a sense of pride rose within me. Since she was mine, I tried my best to make her comfortable, intensifying the foreplay.

Two key points: first, her full, firm, and white breasts; second, the most mysterious and precious part of a woman's body, the part men yearn for most.

Above, I used my mouth to lick and caress, and my hands to gently knead and press with a balance of firmness and softness; below, the focus was on massage, smoothing everything out, gently massaging and stroking following the natural flow.

After about half an hour, she began to pant softly.

Sometimes she would open her eyes, asking and gesturing.

I continued, still working so hard.

Somehow, tears welled up in her eyes.

She said to me, "I'm sorry to trouble you. I love you."

I didn't have time to reply, I just kept going, and she enjoyed it to the fullest.

Suddenly, taking her by surprise, I lifted my already hard penis and slowly inserted it. She couldn't help but cry out, then I pulled it out again, and she cried out again. Then I slowly went in again, and so on three times. I could feel her place contracting rapidly.

Glistening vaginal fluid flowed out in gushes, soaking the sheets.

Facing the vaginal fluid, I thrust all the way in and started pumping quickly.

She went completely limp. She could only moan, sometimes quite loudly involuntarily, and I quickly kissed her.

She just sat there, and I lifted her buttocks with both hands, thrusting hard into that mysterious cave that didn't originally belong to me. She let me do whatever I wanted, without any reaction, only occasionally moving her body, raising her legs high, spreading them wide, her head tilted back, letting me suckle her small, white, still firm breasts like a young girl's.

I persisted, controlling myself, striving to bring her to orgasm again and again. Conquering a woman gives a man a sense of accomplishment.

The more I did this, the more excited I became, and the more excited I became, the more waves of her orgasms surged.

We went on for a long time, I don't know how long, I was so absorbed, I forgot where we were, forgot the deep guilt in my heart, forgot who I was, who she was? Forgot that the woman beneath me was a beautiful young woman I should never have touched; forgot everything… After the final thrust, I quickly pulled out, and under the light, spurts of semen flew up, landing on her snow-white abdomen, all the way to her breasts.

She lay there, and I quickly found some tissues to wipe her clean.

After everything was clean, I wiped her genitals, which were already overflowing with vaginal fluid down her thighs.

Perhaps embarrassed, she glared at me, snatched the tissues from my hand, and turned away to wipe herself.

The sheets were soaked, and my penis had gone soft. I quickly wiped it with tissues, even the pubic hair on it was wet.

She wiped herself several times, then turned over and covered her head with the blanket.

As soon as I lay down, she turned around happily, playfully punching my chest with her little fist. "You bad boy, you're too good! You've corrupted a woman! I'll hit you, I'll hit you!" She hooked her arms around my shoulders and said affectionately, "You bad boy, I want to bite you." Men, serving a woman well doesn't require much skill; practice makes perfect. She'll be more devoted to you, and that's very important.

Later, we held each other and talked about this and that. It's also important for a man to be talkative at this time. Don't be speechless; be humorous and witty, have some conversational skills. She'll love what you say and it will make her laugh. It will enhance your affair.

Sex is beautiful because of love. Later, it was naturally very enjoyable. We didn't think about anything else, only that she was mine and I was hers. Forget about rules and regulations, forget about power and wealth; this is human nature. Human nature is essentially unrestrained animality, and when people are in a certain situation, this animality can be revealed, and that's when people are happiest. Of course, it's difficult for people to reach that point, so sometimes when we do *that*, our animalistic side isn't fully aroused. We're entangled by worldly things, so naturally, it becomes dull and rushed. We

spent the whole night embracing each other. She touched my penis, and I sometimes touched her breasts, occasionally kneading them; sometimes I touched her genitals, occasionally exploring with my fingers; sometimes I touched her round, soft buttocks, occasionally pressing them.

When my penis was hard, she actively cooperated, letting me thrust in and out. We did it whenever we

wanted, and I don't know how many times we did it in that hazy, dreamlike night.

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My second affair with a colleague

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