【We were just lonely then】(1-2) Author: aishang2007

Author: aishang2007
Word Count: 14408

Foreword: This is something I wrote in 2008, and it was first published on the sex.net website with the same ID.
I've been wanting to find it and post it here since yesterday, but so much time has passed, I've changed computers twice, and the sex.net website seems to
have shut down (even if it hasn't, the data is probably wiped clean). While feeling frustrated, I searched on Baidu and surprisingly found
that a friend from a European and American forum was quietly reposting it four years ago and expressing his expectation for a sequel. I was happy and
a little touched, thank you. I'm a newbie on this forum, and I hope those who enjoy reading it will give me encouragement.
Please forgive any inappropriate formatting or other issues, thank you.

Back then we were just lonely (Part 1)

A night of torrential rain, thunder and lightning, seemed to shatter the entire little house into pieces… For the first
time, I felt the power of nature, a trembling and inescapable panic. In 24 years, this was indeed the first
time I had heard such thunder and seen such wildly lashing lightning. The torrential rain continued relentlessly.

A sleepless night. I reached for the desk lamp, but it wouldn't turn on; the power had probably been out for a while.

I could only continue to stare blankly at the rain, watch the lightning lash against the small house, and feel the waves of tremors and unease rising within me. I

'd been in Yishan for over two weeks now, and it wasn't as bad as I'd initially imagined. On the contrary, the scenery was beautiful,
the mountains and rivers picturesque, and the villagers were hospitable; my work wasn't too demanding, the children were quite endearing, and my colleagues
were friendly. It seemed I couldn't find anything to complain about, yet I still felt uneasy, still shrouded in
a sense of abandonment.

In 2001, I graduated from a branch of Sichuan University in Zigong, earning a college
diploma in computer science. Afterward, I drifted to Chengdu, then to Chongqing, and stayed in some nearby small cities, but finding
work . I even considered trying further afield, but just days before I was about to leave, I received
news from my family that the personnel bureau was recruiting a batch of public school teachers this year. Two conditions were required: first, local residency, a full-time associate's
degree, and no job prospects within three years of graduation; second, a two-year teaching stint in a mountainous area after acceptance, followed by a formal
assignment to a better-equipped town school. Goodness, just for the public school teacher quota
in my hometown's provincial capital, it was absolutely worth the exam. Two years of teaching in the mountains was entirely tolerable.

And so, I was fortunate enough to pass the exam and be assigned to a small town elementary school near Zunyi, Guizhou Province.

Everything was just beginning; I had to endure it.

Just as I was lost in thought and self-pity, I heard a frantic, forceful knocking on the door. I sat up,
listened intently, and indeed, someone was knocking. Who could it be so late? Although I hadn't checked the time, I figured it
must be past ten o'clock. I was hesitant, unsure whether to open the door.

The knocking became more urgent! A blinding flash of lightning, a series of rumbling thunderclaps, coupled with the urgent knocking,
filled me with a sense of fear. Just then, I heard someone calling outside the door, "Chen Li! Chen Li!"

I breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing the voice; it was Sister Yang from next door. Actually, "next door" wasn't quite accurate. There was only one row of
dormitories in the school, housing four families. I was assigned to the first room, which used to be the school broadcasting room, and still was, except now,
a curtain had been drawn, and the inner room served as my bedroom and office. Next to me was the storage room, and beyond that was Sister Yang's
house. She and the other two families each occupied two rooms, which served as the bedroom and kitchen.

Hearing her urgent tone, I quickly put on my clothes. Just as I opened the door, a
flash Sister Yang, wearing a raincoat, had a few strands of hair dripping wet, and looked extremely anxious.

"What's wrong, Sister Yang?"

"Oh dear, I'm so angry! Your Brother Wang isn't home, and Teacher Zhang won't answer when I call him. I can't very well go and call
Director Wu . The chicken coop in my backyard collapsed, and the chickens are flying everywhere..."

Hearing her words, so crisp and decisive, I realized she wanted me to help her catch the chickens and bring them inside.

She handed me a raincoat without waiting for my reply. Sister Yang is such a straightforward person; even though she's only been here
a short time, I could already sense it after just a few meetings.

Several families had fenced off a yard behind their houses to grow vegetables and raise chickens. For a while,
Sister Yang and I were chasing each other through the thunder and lightning, which felt quite comical. Although the yard was small, because of the darkness and
mud, it took quite a while to catch all nine chickens.

Sister Yang apologized for getting covered in mud, and then brought over a basin of hot water. Taking advantage of the fleeting moment after the lightning,
I reached out to catch it, but instead touched something soft, round, and bulging. I was startled and
quickly pulled my hand back. Sister Yang was also slightly surprised, but she swallowed the sound of her surprise. We both
knew it was because of the darkness.

"Thank you so much for your help today!" After the accidental intimate contact, it seemed as if she had just reminded us
that we were in the same dark room. Sister Yang said this and went back inside.

After washing up, I lay in bed, but I no longer had the mood to recall my college days and dream about the future. My mind was filled with
that touch, which was even more fleeting than lightning: her breasts were so soft, and seemed very elastic; the
protrusion that my ring finger felt, was it a nipple? It was so prominent; why could I feel it so clearly in that instant when I pulled my hand back
? Was she not wearing a bra? Why did I feel it so strongly today...? For a while, I was still immersed
in the aftertaste of that breathtaking "touch," and my little brother was already incredibly hard.

To be honest, although I'm of average appearance, I did have a few so-called relationships in college, all of which
involved sex, and I considered myself a man who had deeply experienced a woman's body. But why is it like this this time?

I don't know. With my eyes closed, thinking of Sister Yang's appearance, I started stroking my penis.

I often hear people describe women like this: not exactly beautiful, but very attractive. Sister Yang is
somewhat of that type of woman. Before, I never understood why someone could be attractive if they weren't beautiful, but now,
thinking carefully about her everyday gestures, her hair-flipping smiles, her gaze, and the subtle nuances of her demeanor, I think it could be categorized as
something called charm. But as for what charm is, I really can't put my finger on it. Besides, in just
a few minutes, I felt my penis couldn't hold back any longer—oh! A gush of thick fluid sprayed out, accompanied by a
thunderous roar... The air was instantly filled with the smell of semen. I gasped for breath, my slightly parted lips
whispering, as if making a vow, "Yang Jingqiu, I want you!!! I want you!!"

Yang Jingqiu, also known
as 　　Sister Yang, is the director of the school's general affairs office, around 30 years old. When I first arrived, she was in charge of receiving me and arranging my accommodation. My first impression of her was that she spoke frankly and
acted efficiently. After just a few words, we addressed each other as brother and sister. I don't know if this was the straightforwardness of people from the mountains or just her way of handling things. Because we lived next door and I was new, she often came over to check on me, addressing me as "sister" or "leader," and she took good care of me. Her husband, whom I call Brother Wang
, worked in the county, I think he drove a private car for some company boss. He came back irregularly, but he was also an easy person to get along with. I liked to
have a few drinks with him, chat, and share cigarettes.

After that unexpected encounter with Sister Yang on that rainy night, I especially looked forward to getting closer to her in the days that followed
. She didn't seem to be acting strangely, still asking me normally if I had eaten, bringing me food to share, and
inviting me for a walk in the evenings. Every day I enjoyed these small moments of joy, and without realizing it, I had
gotten used to thinking about her at night, each time with great intensity. In those brief few minutes or ten minutes, her
words, her fingers, the ring on her finger, her faint scent became vivid in my mind again and again, only
to blur and fade away in the instant of ejaculation…

What was wrong with me? Had I fallen in love with her? Absolutely not! Don't mention she had a family and a ten-year-old child;

don't mention I was only staying for two years before returning to the city with a stable job; her age of over 30, the mindset shaped by her mountainous
environment , even her straightforward personality—none of these could make me fall in love with her.

At that time, I didn't know that loneliness truly existed, and wasn't just something sung about in songs. Perhaps you
often feel genuine joy and happiness in crowds, but your soul has no solace or support; your heart is
a horse galloping or wandering on the grasslands, your home is just an empty room behind a fence. I
must have been lonely then, but I was driven by youthful playfulness and a thirst for novelty, and neither noticed nor
wanted to think about it.

Half a semester passed in the blink of an eye. After the mid-term exams, I went to Principal Zhao to ask for leave, wanting to go home for a while.
Principal Zhao, nearing retirement, listened to my explanation, pondered for a moment, and said, "Oh, is that so? I was just thinking of having you go to
the county town these few days to buy some consumables for the school. Since that's the case, then..." Hearing Principal Zhao say this, I remembered that
I had just arrived and should focus on building a good relationship with the principal, so I quickly interrupted, "Since you have something to do, then I'll wait until summer vacation to
go home! The vacation is only three days anyway, just enough time to spend on the road." Principal Zhao looked up at me and smiled.

"That's true, young man, only been here for two months and already homesick, hahaha, you need to get some experience here."

I spent two days buying a lot of things in the county town, and also strolled around the ancient town, treating it as a paid tour of
the folk town. After returning to school, I rushed to Sister Yang's place to submit my accounts, put things into inventory, and get signatures. But she wasn't there; she
was probably at her husband's place for the vacation. I didn't see her until the afternoon of the next day. After dinner, Sister Yang and I went to the office
to handle these matters. Before we knew it, it was quite late when we finished. She yawned and said she was very tired. Just as we were about to
leave the office, suddenly everything went dark. "The power's out again!" Power outages are really frequent in this small town
. Sister Yang calmly said, "Hehe, you'll get used to it." Her eyes couldn't adjust to the sudden
darkness, and we groped our way forward. She said, "Turn off the lights, so as not to waste electricity," and was probably standing
at the door fumbling for the switch when I walked up and bumped into her. "Uh—" she gasped softly. It was that familiar
gasp that sent a jolt through my mind, recalling the touch of her breasts more than a month ago, and quickly bringing to mind my
longing for her over the past few days. In an instant, I could no longer suppress my desire and, taking advantage of the situation, pulled
her close.

This sudden change startled Sister Yang quite a bit. It wasn't until my hands were firmly wrapped around her waist that
she realized this time it wasn't a mistake. Her first reaction was to quickly push her hands against my chest, "Chen Li,
what are you doing? Let go!" Her voice was tinged with panic. I drew courage from her suppressed voice, and
with a forceful pull, I dragged her back to the inner part of the room, pushed her against the wall, and pressed my lower
body . In front of a 24-year-old man, her so-called resistance was practically negligible; it was nothing
more than a ridiculous attempt to tear me apart by my collar, repeatedly growling, "Don't do this, Chen Li! Chen Li, don't
do this!"

I used my mouth on her writhing neck, while simultaneously using one hand to forcefully caress her waist and buttocks.

To be honest, she struggled quite fiercely, perhaps because she was also quite strong. Although I had no
experience with coercion, I knew this wasn't a battle that could be won quickly. During this period of demanding, my penis
was incredibly hard, mischievously thrusting between her legs. Even through her pants, I could feel her
trembling each time, as if trying to gradually dismantle her resistance. I moved my mouth to her ear and said urgently and earnestly,
"Sister Yang, I miss you, give it to me, give it to me!" Another round of hands followed, "Give it to me, Sister Yang, you don't know how much
I think about you every day, how much I want you!"

In retrospect, this was more moving to a woman than any sweet talk—it expressed
my desire for her, especially my physical desire (which indirectly showed her body's attractiveness to men, satisfying
a woman's vanity, as invariably as menstruation), without descending into
the vulgarity and filth of blatant sexual acts. I admire one aspect of traditional Chinese culture—the word "want" is so
timely transforming lust into elegance!

The reason I draw this conclusion is that Sister Yang gave up her resistance precisely after these few impassioned declarations
. Her hands stopped on my collar, and I ceased my roughness, transforming my desire into gentleness, beginning
to tease her little by little, inch by inch, layer by layer.

I started with her waist, massaging her like a hand massage. My hand gradually snaked its way to her belly, finding a bit of
extra flesh , but that only enhanced its voluptuousness. Then, I gently covered her bra (finding it couldn't quite cover it) with my hand, not with the
disrespectful, forceful kneading like some Japanese men, but with a gentle, caressing touch—brothers, at that moment I
was surprised to find her breathing erratic. Then my hand meandered to her back, equally voluptuous, yet tender and smooth.

"Click—" At that moment, I even heard the sound of the bra clasp and buttonholes separating—
was the room too quiet, or was I just being overly sensitive and hallucinating? To this day, that "click—" remains
one of my effective fantasies for arousing my desire when I'm tired.

"Click—" With that sound, accompanied by a deep breath from her, I knew she had given her permission. Two bowls of release.
Her breasts flowed gently in my hands, and a wet mouth bustled between her neck and breasts like a postman,
conveying evidence of their growing excitement.

Her nipples were hard, the size of cherries, whether from breastfeeding or frequent caresses.
Each time I licked them, her breathing quickened.

Books say that at thirty one is like a wolf, at forty a tiger. Between the wolves and tigers in Yang Jie's life, I didn't want to, and dared not, disappoint
her. After a period of gradual stimulation, she whispered, "Someone will come." This
could also be interpreted as urging me to make my move. I remained silent, slipping my hand between her legs from her jeans. It

was incredibly wet there. When my fingers touched her genitals, she even let out a soft moan. I didn't know
the difference between this moan and her previous screams, nor did I want to think about it anymore. I stripped her naked, laying her down on the table.

I was more like a patient hunter,
rubbing both to pre-wet it and to tease it. As expected , Sister Yang couldn't resist any longer. She leaned forward, took my shoulder, and said, "Come on!"

In the darkness of the night, I thrust my little brother into Yang Jingqiu's lower body. "Mmm..." How
can I describe the wonderful sensation of that entry? I think only this muffled, soft moan can express it. It felt so good.
The tender flesh of her lower body enveloped my penis, wet and slippery, making each thrust effortless.

Please don't laugh at my ignorance regarding moaning during sex. I used to think that the moans in porn films were just for the sake of
the movie , because the classmates I shared a bed with only endured the pain. That's when I learned
that there really is such a thing as moaning in pain due to pleasure. That's how Sister Yang was at that moment: in the dim light of the moon, her slightly parted
lips emitted soft, low moans, sometimes tight, sometimes slow, in sync with the rhythm and force of my thrusts;

her eyes were closed, her expression one of helplessness; her hands searched for my shoulders like a blind person… Afterwards, I
asked her about it several times, and when she got impatient, she said, “Do you think I wanted to scream?”

I was astonished at the time, and gradually I increased my force, the sound of flesh colliding echoing in the office,
“slap slap slap.” Her hands, which had initially been casually placed, gradually gripped the edge of the table, then gradually held onto my arm,
and then gradually stiffened, waving in the air like a great man bidding farewell. I knew she was enjoying it, at least her body
was enjoying .

After a series of blind but rhythmic thrusts, I felt her legs and hands exert force simultaneously, and a stream of what was
definitely thick semen sprayed deep into her body. “Whoosh—” Like the temporary stillness after lightning,
I breathed heavily, and she trembled slightly. Below, the space tightly enveloping my penis was rhythmically spasming,
her hands slowly sliding down my shoulders.

"Ah—" It felt like centuries had passed before her carefree sigh made me peek my sweaty
head out from behind her neck.

She didn't say anything more, and I quickly withdrew my penis. After a quick clean-up, we disappeared
into the dark doors of different rooms.

It was sometime in May 2003. When I got home, I instinctively caressed my penis
again , because it was so intense

!

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