A lonely young woman, gentle and devoted.

In 1998, 　　　　　　　　　　　　　a time of gentle affection and loneliness , things were very different from now. The internet was just beginning to take off, internet cafes were still rare,

and most people were still curious about it. I had only been a few years out of Peking University with a master's degree, carrying both

wounds and youthful ambition, yet every night I was filled with sadness and impulsiveness. One

night , I logged into a chat room called "Heartbeat." There weren't many chat rooms back then; besides

a few personal chat rooms like cn and Networm, there weren't many active ones. I guessed Heartbeat was

created by a few college students using Echat 3.6, but that was enough. The chat room

was already quite feature-rich, and for some reason, it was very attractive. It seemed like dozens of people chatted

enthusiastically , sometimes even hurling insults at each other, and people were frequently kicked out by the administrators. On the day I logged in,

no one paid any attention to me at first. I tried to talk to a few people, but received no reply. Bored, I prepared

a message and sent: "Your name is nice." Upon seeing the other person's ID: girl晚情, I immediately perked up. We chatted for three hours

that night . Because I spoke politely and we were roughly the same age, she gradually

lowered her guard, and we shared some information. 晚情 was 28 years old at the time, from xx, married, with a

three-year-old daughter. Her husband was a long-time local resident who didn't work and lived off rent.

She had resigned from a cultural company nearly three years prior to giving birth and was staying home taking care of her child. 晚情 had first

visited this chat room two days earlier.

Later, I frequently visited the Heartbeat Chat Room, and almost every time I encountered 晚情, we gradually developed feelings for each other—

Note: You might not know that in 2000, one-night stands and online dating didn't exist yet. These

things arose and became widespread with the emergence and popularization of the internet. In other words,

the internet was my base for survival and development.

As our chats progressed, they gradually deepened, with topics delving into details about her family

life , psychology, interests, and other realities. At the time, although I was already a highly successful wolf on the ground

, I had little experience online, so initially I didn't have any intention of picking up girls.

Wanqing's family—both her parents' and her husband's—was relatively wealthy. She drove a Santana, and her days consisted of

taking care of the children, shopping, and spending her evenings online or watching TV. As the days passed, she gradually

became more and more lonely and bored. She had quit her job three years prior but lacked the courage to go back to work, which eventually led to a strange

sense of inferiority and a feeling of emptiness about the future. When Wanqing met me, she was in this extreme state of mind. I

found him to be well-educated, reasonable, and possessing his own understanding of life and the world, and he was full of energy. She increasingly enjoyed

discussing her various psychological problems and troubles with me.

After about ten chats, Wanqing typed out a name and asked if I knew it. Having some knowledge of

modern history I naturally recognized it: it belonged to a high-ranking Kuomintang general who had been stationed in the three northeastern provinces for a long time. He was a scholar from a prominent family who joined

the army, but unfortunately, he died in battle. As we discussed this general, I was greatly surprised. Wanqing, who previously had little

historical knowledge, suddenly seemed incredibly knowledgeable about history,

appearing to know everything about this renowned general's achievements and family background! Astonished, I repeatedly asked her why she was so familiar with this period of history. Wanqing

explained that he was her great-grandfather. I was both surprised and delighted, and extremely curious—I had encountered

the descendant of a famous general on the internet! No wonder I had felt for so many days that beneath her intelligence and shrewdness lay an extraordinary gentleness and a tranquil,

unassuming heart.

After confirming her identity, my male instincts began to stir, and I unconsciously began to

unleash my knowledge and literary talent. Although I was not very old at the time, I was considered quite learned, and perhaps

this deeply moved the serene Wanqing. We discussed philosophy, sociology, history, and later, our understanding of

classical poetry. This surprised Wanqing; she hadn't expected someone who had just left the government to work in corporate management

could recite hundreds of classical poems. Wanqing herself is extremely fond of classical poetry, and her knowledge

and depth of understanding far surpass those of the average undergraduate or master's student in Chinese literature. After our discussion, we

began exchanging poems and lyrics. This went on for several months. Before we knew it, it was May 1999. More than six months of nightly

online had brought us very close and natural to each other. I had suggested meeting Wanqing several times,

but she had gently declined each time. I understood her feelings—she was a very traditional woman, devoted to

her husband and children, honest and , and couldn't accept this kind of affection outside the virtual world. In May 1999, I

suggested meeting again, stating that if we couldn't meet in person, I would never meet online again. After two days of silence, Wanqing

agreed .

We arranged to meet at the coffee shop on the seventh floor of the Beihai Wantai Building on Dongsi Shitiao. The next day was Saturday, and I

arrived early at the agreed time—1 pm. I tried to calm my racing heart with coffee while reading a book,

my eyes fixed on the entrance. The clock had struck 1:20, and still no one suspicious had appeared. I began to feel

uneasy, slowly growing anxious. After another ten minutes, I grew impatient, stood up to leave, and glanced back at the bar. There,

I saw a woman in a white dress sitting quietly at a table in the north corner, watching me. When our eyes met unexpectedly

, she quickly looked away and lowered her head slightly.

My heart Doubt and unease churned within me as I walked to the bar to pay, glancing at the woman as I did so: about 27 or 28 years old, wearing

an elegant white suit, her exposed skin flawless and fair, her long hair hanging low, obscuring most of

her face. What was visible was a dignified and composed demeanor, yet tinged with a barely perceptible unease. I couldn't

be sure if this woman was Wan Qing, but I had a feeling she was someone I knew well. But was it really

her? Back then, I wasn't as seasoned and shrewd as I am now, and I dared not act rashly. Dejected, I walked to the bar.

Perhaps it was an innate talent, but without any warning, I made a bold move and told the bartender, "

Settle the bill for the lady at table 13 as well." As I spoke, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the lady's body

trembled , and her downcast eyes seemed to quickly turn towards me. At that moment, I hardened my heart and turned to walk towards

her. The lady panicked; her body and eyes seemed to shift, and suddenly it was as if she had transformed into a face facing me.

A little lamb pounced on the old wolf. The old wolf, perhaps possessing a certain talent for romance, walked to the table and actually

reached out to her, saying, "Let's go." The lady was utterly dumbfounded (her kind, gentle

face in that moment is something I will never forget), her eyes wide with surprise and doubt, her mouth slightly agape,

her slightly purplish lips trembling slightly. In her bewildered hesitation, she extended her

arm (that innate gentleness and submissiveness I've never encountered again), and I grabbed her hand and

pulled her up. Holding her hand, her fair skin almost pierced my eyes and my heart; her

hand was smooth and boneless, and a delicate fragrance wafted towards me as she stood up. At that moment, the most inappropriate thing

was that my lower body suddenly became erect, creating a huge bulge in my trousers! Utterly ashamed!

Men truly are male animals. When she stood up, I was startled again: she seemed to be a little taller than me.

I quickly checked her shoes; thankfully, she was wearing a pair of delicate, five-inch heels. Her feet

were fair and slender, with long toes, the three segments of which were symmetrical and clearly defined, somewhat resembling a child's little fingers. Her arches were prominent,

the forefoot flat and delicate, and her heels slender and narrow. Seeing me examining her shoes and feet, the woman

looked down shyly and flusteredly. I was overjoyed: in this day and age, in such a materialistic and frenzied city, there was still such a

pure and shy young woman! I said nothing more, pulled her along, and left.

To be honest, even then, I couldn't be completely certain that she was Wan Qing, but strangely

, I never dared to ask her if she was Wan Qing.

From leaving the house to getting into the car, the woman didn't speak; I could only hear her rapid, soft

breathing . The car arrived at the Workers' Stadium. We got off, went upstairs, and closed the door. The woman, staggered and

unsteady was pulled silently into the room. Of course, the room was now my residence.

When we reached the room, my hands were drenched in sweat as I released her. The woman seemed to lose

her support, leaning against the wall, her body trembling slightly in spasms. I was young then,

full of energy, my mind not so complex; impulse took over. I picked her up and, with

a weak , slammed her onto the bed. I ripped off my clothes, my erection burning, and pressed

myself against her. As I pinned her down, she clutched her face, twisting and struggling. My heart pounded,

I gasped , violently pulling her hands away, and capturing her lips in my mouth, sucking and thrusting fiercely. Despite the sweltering heat, her

lips strangely cold, her mouth muscles seemingly out of control, unable to open or close. Only after I, the wolf, nibbled and stirred them with my tongue

did her lips and mouth begin to warm up, her breath sweet and fragrant, her panting becoming increasingly rapid. I, the wolf, acted. Amid her weak pleas

, I ruthlessly stripped her of all her clothing, leaving her only in a pair of white panties and long

stockings. I was astonished by her fair skin, seemingly hairless, and her entire body a milky white. In the tearing motion,

my "cannon" unconsciously pierced her body, waist, chest, and legs, the pain excruciating. I became increasingly

unable to control myself, ignoring her

pleas like "Please, don't do this, okay?" and "No, how can I live like this?" I didn't even bother to admire her; I ripped her stockings apart, the feeling like tearing the outer skin of

a scallion or stripping an animal's fur, tearing it into pieces. As I pulled down her panties, she seemed to awaken somewhat.

Her hands stopped covering her chest and face, and she clung tightly to her panties, refusing to let me take them off. Kind women are always like this; at that moment, she still

thought she was facing a rational man who could control himself. She was wrong! He was a

male beast driven mad by lust! Grabbing the edge of her panties with his right hand, he ripped them off with a single pull. The young woman cried out

in , as if he had hurt her hand. He pressed his upper body against her chest, wrapped

his legs around her limp legs, held her struggling body tightly with his right hand, and guided his erection towards her vaginal opening with his left. With a powerful thrust,

he penetrated her completely! The head of his penis pressed directly against a soft protrusion, causing a slight pain. The young woman cried out in pain,

her body tensing and arching before collapsing limply beneath me, seemingly without any strength. At that moment

, I felt nothing but a frenzied, violent thrusting, pumping rapidly. After hundreds of thrusts, the wolf let out a long sigh,

his body tensed, and he slammed down hard, his cannon plunging deep into her vagina, as if forcing open

a protrusion deep inside, releasing a torrent of intense passion.

Catching his breath, the wolf noticed tears streaming from the young woman's tightly closed eyes, her breath extremely weak.

Fearing something was wrong, the old wolf quickly scrambled to his feet, shaking and calling to her, but she remained motionless, only tears trickling down her cheeks. This terrified

the old wolf, leaving him frantic. Feeling her breath with his lips, he found it very weak

and her lips icy cold. Lifting her body, he found it covered in sweat, yet somewhat cold and limp,

as if boneless. The old wolf cried out, truly afraid something had happened to her. After calling her name several times, seeing no movement,

the wolf quickly said: "Hold on!" I went to call 120. Just as I was frantically dialing, I heard her weak voice: "No

..." I quickly put down the phone and went to check on her. Seeing that she was still lifeless, I said, "Don't be afraid,

saving your life is the most important thing. Call 120." The young woman moved her lips, as if gathering her strength, and squeezed out two sentences: "Don't call

... It's okay, I won't die... Don't be afraid, it will be better in a while." Half an hour later, the young woman's condition gradually

improved , and her body slowly regained its strength.

After recovering, the young woman silently got up and put on the clothes I had thrown on the ground, her face flushed. I

didn't know what to do at this point and could only watch her.

Her underwear and stockings were torn, so the young woman had to put on her high heels barefoot and tried to walk out.

She took two steps and had just reached the door when she swayed and almost fell, grabbing the wall for support. Seeing this, I came to my senses and quickly

went to support her. She struggled slightly, then let me help her sit down on the edge of the bed. As soon as he sat down, the young woman

struggled to her feet and, without giving Old Wolf a chance to explain, walked to the wall and leaned against it. After about ten minutes, Old

Wolf gradually regained his senses, and his vast knowledge and experience began to take effect. He realized he had hurt

her feelings and pride. At this point, there was no other way but to accept the situation and accept the

hurt . As Old Wolf quickly thought things through, he observed the young woman. Without her stockings, she seemed even whiter, and although

traces of sweat could still be seen on her legs, she appeared even more sensual and vibrant. Her slender, delicate legs were crossed, supporting her body in

a posture that made one's blood boil!

Old Wolf gritted his teeth, stood up, and walked over. She tried to avoid him. Old Wolf hugged her stiff body and whispered

, "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I was so crazy. I wasn't myself at all." The young woman lowered her head again

, tears welling in her eyes, and said, "How can you do this? How could you do this?" Old Wolf quickly comforted and

explained . After comforting her for more than ten minutes, the young woman finally let Old Wolf hold her and sit on the bed. After apologizing repeatedly, Old Wolf

said, "Lie down and rest for a while. I'll go buy you stockings and underwear. I'm sorry; you'd better take a shower, so as

not to..."

The young woman nodded weakly.

When Old Wolf returned with stockings, shorts, a drink, and a dress that looked basically the same as hers,

he found her lying on the bed asleep. Old Wolf didn't disturb her and sat in a chair watching her. She wasn't particularly

beautiful, but she was dignified and delicate. What was rare was that even her appearance carried a sense of restraint and elegance. Her features were ordinary,

except for her large and thick earlobes and her full lips—the only sexy parts of her face. Her figure

gave off a particularly slender and quiet feeling, with long, thin legs, and her feet and hips were especially sexy,

making anyone who looked at her hard! Recalling the passion just now, her vagina felt particularly tight, and it seemed very short.

If I'm not mistaken, that protrusion was her cervix. If that's true, oh my god,

no wonder she screamed in pain, it was directly penetrated into her uterus! As I watched, Old Wolf's lower body became hot and hard again, and he desperately

wanted to go and fuck her again! But Old Wolf didn't dare, she had already fainted once, and doing it again might

cause problems . Helpless, Old Wolf moved a chair to the bedside, stroking her legs and feet while masturbating (damn!

Thinking back to those days, Old Wolf was really pathetic), she was sleeping very soundly. When it was time to ejaculate, Old Wolf moved her feet

off the bed and ejaculated onto her feet. After finishing, Old Wolf panted and admired the results of his battle on her incredibly sexy,

white and tender feet, and unknowingly fell asleep.

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A lonely young woman, gentle and devoted.

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