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The partner company's beautiful, mature, single women 

Our first meeting was during a business trip for an inspection. She was in charge of product inventory control at her company, and we didn't have much business dealings. However, I was quite familiar with a few people in her department through business connections.
While we were chatting, a girl came in carrying a water cup. She was wearing tight jeans and a white butterfly top, and her long, straight hair, dyed a dark red, was incredibly smooth and manageable, like it had been permed. To
be honest, her face wasn't particularly striking, maybe a 75 out of 10. She had relatively large eyes and fair skin, but you could vaguely see acne scars from her youth, which was the main reason I said she wasn't outstanding. Moving my gaze downwards, I was somewhat struck by her full and firm breasts. Based on my experience, this wasn't the kind of fullness achieved through padding, but genuine softness. The exposed breast area above her bra had a very obvious curve, proudly climbing her chest like a beautiful, continuous mountain range, inspiring endless imagination about the scenery above.
The tight jeans also accentuated her full, pert buttocks and slender, beautiful legs. This was the main reason the author decided to write about this woman, because the author admits to having almost no resistance to breasts, beautiful legs, and pert buttocks. It was also the main reason why the author remained infatuated with her even though he knew there was no future for them. Whether slender or voluptuous is not surprising; a bony, thin frame combined with a fertile, full bottom is something a greedy, conquering man needs to perfectly combine. And the woman before him was undoubtedly a masterpiece, curvaceous and effortlessly alluring.
"Little S, let me introduce you to someone. This is Brother C from our supplier company. Brother C is treating us to a big meal today, come along! Brother C, this is Little S, whom I often mention to you. She doesn't have a boyfriend yet, so you should seize the opportunity!"
"Okay, thanks. So, I'll treat Little S to a big meal today and make the most of this opportunity. You guys shouldn't interfere; we'll talk about it later," I teased, smiling and greeting her as I spoke. This teasing naturally provoked everyone's dissatisfaction and jeering.
"You guys, you're always teasing me, and now this young man has just arrived, and you're already bullying him," she retorted. Her voice faintly revealed a Northeastern accent, and for a moment, I felt a little discouraged, because I always felt that girls whose Mandarin was mixed with a strong regional accent tended to have a less appealing overall demeanor.
The first small talk ended there. We met a few more times in between, but always at their company, exchanging nods and greetings.
Before I knew it, it was the end of the year. During my business trip there, I happened to arrive at their year-end party, so I accepted their invitation. There were three tables in total. When I entered, the girls were already seated. At the outermost table, everyone's eyes were on me. She sat there, smiling broadly but also glancing at me shyly. Because everyone had been teasing and joking with us before, she probably felt a little embarrassed at this moment, as it was happening again. I plopped down at their table, a few seats away from her, and said, "Let's sit with the beauties. It's pleasing to the eye and we can eat more. You eat less, and I can eat more—it's a good deal." Everyone said that probably wasn't the reason. I winked and said, "You know what I mean." Everyone burst into laughter.
After a few rounds of drinks, we hadn't eaten much, but we'd taken quite a few drinks. One of the guys from her company, who I'm on good terms with, heard the commotion and came over to our table. He said to her, "Little S, I won't introduce Brother C. We've known each other for years, he's a true friend. I hope you can give Brother C a chance." This guy was from Hebei, a very straightforward person, and Little S, with her Northeastern personality, was even more compatible. So, she slowly downed a glass of red wine. After finishing, she continued chatting, and soon several more glasses were full. Everyone was saying, "Brother C, you can't let Little S get drunk, there's still a lot to do tonight." I said, "That's true, if she gets drunk, things can still be done, but something will be missing." Everyone burst into laughter. I also saw that I couldn't let her drink anymore, so I took a glass for her, and then toasted the guy and everyone else, and that was the end of it.
After drinking, everyone was a little tipsy, and the conversation was full of jokes, the atmosphere was great. A little while later, she got up to go to the restroom, head down, probably because she was quite drunk. I didn't think much of it, and when she didn't come back for a long time, I asked one of her colleagues from the office, who I knew well, to go check on her. Sure enough, she was quite drunk; it took her a long time to get back, and she was almost done. I was a little tipsy too, but not quite drunk. Everyone teased me, wanting me to take her home, and I laughed, asking where I should take her. I helped her downstairs and asked where she lived. It was in another district, quite far. Knowing another male colleague of hers lived nearby, I suggested they share a car so her colleague could take her home. In the rush, after getting them into the car, a few of us guys got into another car and went to a hotel to play cards.
On the way back to the hotel, one of her colleagues said, "Little C, I think Little S has a crush on you. You were so cold and distant, it hurt her feelings, she even cried."
I said, "No way." They said, "If you don't believe me, I can call and ask." I said, "No, let me ask myself, give me the number." I was a little drunk, but I thought it would be polite to call myself. I called, but
no one answered. A while later, my colleague called back, saying that Little S was drunk and had just cried, and that he was on his way to her house.
I hung up and arrived at the hotel shortly after, spending the whole night playing mahjong. I got home early the next morning, feeling groggy, and went straight to sleep.
Around noon, in my hazy sleep, a text message came in: "Thanks for last night, I was really drunk, so embarrassing."
The number looked familiar; I hadn't saved it yet, but I knew it was her.
"Not embarrassing at all, you were very generous and had a good alcohol tolerance. We went to play cards after drinking, and just got back this morning to sleep for a bit."
"You guys are amazing, I just woke up too."
"Feeling better? I feel a little bad because I egged you on. Next time, I'll treat you to something good." "
Really? I'll be waiting."
"Of course, wait patiently." I had to bring out my Northeastern accent.
I pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep.
After the company's annual meeting, the New Year was fast approaching. My last business trip to her company at the end of the year was nearing its end. The streets were unusually quiet, with a festive atmosphere despite the bustling crowds. People seemed relaxed and happy.
This time, I took her to a Western restaurant. After much teasing from others, this was our first time alone together. We had a pleasant conversation, inevitably catching up on our past relationships. She mostly listened, and I just gave her the general information she wanted. I learned that after her breakup after graduation, she tried several blind dates, but wasn't very satisfied. I laughed and said, "Don't set your standards too high, you'll scare people away. I really mustered up the courage to ask you out today." She replied, "You little rascal, you don't need to muster up any courage!" After dinner,
it was already past nine o'clock, so we said goodbye. Before we knew it, the
New Year was here. We didn't exchange many greetings, but she would occasionally send messages and asked for my QQ number. We'd chat briefly when we bumped into each other in the evenings. Sometimes when I had more free time, I'd tease her a bit, making her very happy. Slowly, she even asked me a question: why did I feel she wasn't right for me? I remained silent.
One time, on my way home from drinking, I received a call from her, and we talked about this. I felt that if I were to marry her, I really wasn't ready. Maybe it was because we were about the same age, maybe because of her accent, maybe because of her somewhat spoiled temperament, or maybe because of practical considerations. In short, I felt that this kind of girl would be suitable as a friend; she would be very compliant. But if we got really close, her demands would increase, and the closer the relationship, the more demands she would place on someone, even to the point of hysteria.
Time passed slowly, and I remained single, but I didn't deliberately approach her. Besides the fear of not being able to get rid of her after getting her, I also anticipated the awkwardness that might arise if things went wrong after we both had a business relationship. By May, it was already getting warmer. After several months of struggle, she had accepted the fact that we couldn't be together. However, as single people, we still kept in touch, perhaps to alleviate each other's loneliness.
She told me that one of her best friends and colleagues from her first job was getting married soon in G City, a beautiful city in southern China, and hoped I could go with her. I readily agreed. Aside from a rather boring weekend, I hadn't traveled in a long time, and maybe I just wanted a reason to complete the final step – sleeping with her.
I went on a business trip to her city on Thursday, and on Friday afternoon, I picked up a friend's car and drove her to G City. In the car, she was as happy as a bird, very excited. Perhaps after a long week of work, being able to drive to a small city, taste the local river delicacies, and experience the local customs was a way to relax.
After a two- or three-hour drive, we arrived at my friend's house in the evening. Although it wasn't in the city, the noise of the national highway and the economic activity nearby had made this small village feel quite lively on the outskirts of a city. The local customs and the warm welcome from our host family were captivating. Since there were many guests, we chatted on the rooftop terrace. A gentle breeze and the setting sun cast a soft glow on her hair, giving it a unique and enchanting quality.
After dinner, we said goodbye to her friends, explaining that we were driving to the city center for the night and would visit some nearby attractions the next day. On the drive, we were both rather quiet, the car filled with the soft voice of a local radio host and the occasional GPS beep. Suddenly, she said, "I have a request, but I don't know if I can
say it . What's wrong with saying it?
Could you sleep in the same room as me? I'm a little scared in unfamiliar places at night."
"Oh, definitely the same room! I don't have the money to get you another room."
She chuckled.
"And it's a room with only one bed, haha," I added.
"You're bullying me."
We soon arrived in the city and quickly found a relatively clean chain hotel. A double bed—I parked the car, and we went upstairs.
Once inside the room, I was surprisingly quiet, probably because I was tired, or perhaps because I figured I couldn't run away anyway.
A little while later, she removed her makeup and went to shower. I watched TV. When she came out, she was wearing only a thin long-sleeved shirt, revealing her snow-white thighs as she walked around the room, her breasts clearly visible beneath the thin shirt – just as I expected, they were real.
I took off my trousers and shirt, leaving only my boxer shorts, and went into the bathroom.
When I came out, she was already curled up asleep on another bed, her back to me.
I didn't say much, just dried my hair, turned on the TV, and turned off the lights. "
Are you asleep?" I asked.
"No, I can't fall asleep that quickly."
I was really tired, so I just lay there, watching TV, not wanting to say another word. After a while, I turned off the TV, turned on the floor lamp, and lay down. Looking at her lying opposite me in the dim light of the floor lamp, even though her back was to me, I knew she definitely wasn't asleep.
I couldn't sleep! I couldn't sleep. So I flipped over and jumped onto her bed, hugging her from behind. My hands started to rest on her waist. She shifted slightly but didn't push my hands away. "I'm going to take advantage of her," I laughed. "No way, you pervert."
I started moving my hands up from her waist, and just as I was about to touch her full breasts, I felt her flinch. I grabbed them tightly, and she turned around, offering slight resistance, telling me not to move. I ignored her. One hand slipped under her waist, encircling her slender waist, while the other slowly lifted her clothes. But because it was a long dress, it wasn't easy to lift. I simply pressed my lips to her nipples, slowly rubbing them, occasionally breathing warm air on them, making her feel ticklish.
After a few rounds, I slowly moved upwards, bringing my nose to hers, looking at her with open eyes. Our lips slowly touched, and after a moment of eye contact, I began to kiss her. My lips moved slowly, lightly touching hers, while my right hand began to knead her breasts from the outside. She started to react, and I immediately parted her lips with my own, probing her mouth with my tongue, finding her soft tongue tip and beginning to entwine with it. My lower hand was freed and placed under her neck, as I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. My upper hand, while kneading, subconsciously found that protrusion and gently teased it, making her feel somewhat intoxicated.
Gradually, I was no longer satisfied with the status quo and began to try to lift my long shirt, pulling it above my chest, revealing my pair of snow-white, proud breasts. They were truly full, with nipples that were neither too big nor too small, nestled like Mount Fuji. I lowered my body and began to take her nipple into my mouth, my tongue lightly teasing it, circling it occasionally before lifting it again, eliciting a soft moan from her. I started to slide my hand up her inner thigh, but unexpectedly, she moved her legs apart, resisting and pushing me away. I didn't want to give up, my hand continued to slide upwards, and suddenly I felt something that looked like a sanitary napkin, but not the extra thick kind, probably from the last two days.
"Your friend really knows how to pick a date to get married, letting you get away unscathed," I said with a laugh.
"Pshaw, even if he didn't pick a date, you still can't touch me."
"I don't care, if I want to touch you, I'll run a red light."
After all that, I was actually a little tired, and my erection had actually subsided a bit. Maybe it had been too long since we'd done it, maybe her slight resistance made me a little disgusted, or maybe it was because I didn't love her that much yet.
I decided not to go in. Just holding her like this, chatting, playing with her breasts, caressing her shapely buttocks, and those smooth, long legs—that was one of my greatest pleasures. As we chatted, we both got sleepy and felt uncomfortable sleeping, perhaps still a little annoyed by her earlier resistance. Seeing she was almost asleep, I gently withdrew my hand, got up, covered her with the blanket, and went back to my own bed.
The next morning, after breakfast, like a well-versed couple, we checked out and drove to the scenic area. Two hours later, we arrived. We parked the car and boarded the boat. The sun was shining brightly; the May weather was neither too hot nor too cold. She wore jeans, and had changed into a white fitted t-shirt. Her hair was tied up. It was a bit chilly on the boat, so she wore a light red cardigan, which looked both cute and sexy. Like any couple, we took pictures and held hands naturally. She was exceptionally happy. Perhaps we couldn't be together forever, but even just one day, one time, was good.
That night, we stayed in a small town nearby. We were quite tired and wanted to settle in quickly, shower, and then find something to eat. This time, we didn't hesitate and booked a double room. After putting down our things, we went out to find something to eat.
As dusk settled, we arrived at the seafood street. There was barbecue and stir-fry, and we ordered a table full of food. We'd only had some dry rations at the scenic area for lunch, and we were starving, so we ate heartily.
On the way back, we didn't take a car. We walked hand-in-hand, following our memories, under the dim streetlights. The only thing that made this feel like a city was the music and lights emanating from a few specialty stores like Hongxing, Erke, and Metersbonwe. We strolled contentedly, chatting and laughing, without a care in the world.
That evening, she was able to undress naturally under the lights and take a shower. She came out wearing only a pair of shorts with a towel draped over them. I was lying in bed when I saw her and couldn't resist. I pulled off the towel and kissed her white breast. She slapped me away, saying, "Go take a shower, you're filthy."
After showering, we lay in bed, and I started to hold her, cupping her face, and kissing her earnestly. But she didn't seem to respond very enthusiastically, and she was somewhat evasive, which made me a little discouraged. Sex requires a woman's response and encouragement. I started to resent her for pretending; I hate women who want what they don't give or who are overly coy. When I tried to pull down her shorts, she still refused; I guessed her period was almost over.
After several attempts to coax her, I got a little angry and said, "Damn it, you won't let me in. I'm going to sleep on the sofa.
" "Oh, the young man's angry," she laughed.
"That's right." I buried my head in her chest again, kissing and sucking.
She started to wrap her arms around my neck and closed her eyes. I groped her, and this time, she didn't resist. I slowly took off my clothes, and our naked bodies embraced, smooth and soft. I freed one hand, turned off the light, leaving only the TV on, and turned the volume down.
There still wasn't much heat, maybe because of me, but I still gently parted her legs, guided them, and thrust inside. It was a little tight, so I could only move slowly, and I bent down to kiss her breasts, gently caressing and kneading them with both hands. She slowly began to moan softly, and I used my hands to hold her hands down in a surrender gesture, and began to kiss her. The movements below also began to increase, and each thrust elicited a low moan from her. I held her hands, stared at her, and said, "You're so beautiful, I'm going to fuck you, hehe."
She opened her eyes dazedly, glanced at me, didn't say anything, closed her eyes again, and began to feel my thrusting and writhing. I didn't change positions; I just wanted her to experience more. There wasn't much lust between us, only a faint sadness, and I didn't want to disturb her world. Perhaps it had been a long time since we'd done it, but I seemed to have lost my sexual function, experiencing little pleasure. After a whirlwind of passion, I collapsed limply onto her curvaceous body…
Afterwards, I was exhausted. I took her home, left my car with a friend, and returned to my city.
We didn't keep in touch much afterward, except she would occasionally call to confide in me about her various blind date experiences, revealing her helplessness towards all sorts of terrible men. But she was cautious and never mentioned our relationship again.
After a long silence, one night I ran into her online.
"No news lately? Got a successful blind date? A guy's fallen for you!" I messaged her.
She replied quickly, and a while later, finding typing too slow, she called to chat. From what I gathered, she was seeing a man, but nothing was certain. She didn't really like him, but her parents thought he was a good catch, and she didn't want to hurt them again. I didn't analyze it for her in detail, just told her that if she felt it was good, she should try dating it out; marriage is really just a matter of a change of heart. She asked about my recent situation, and I said I was still the same.
Two weeks later, I went on a business trip to her city. After a social event that evening, I walked alone on the street. The bustling crowds, chatting and laughing, felt alien to me. A sense of sorrow welled up inside me. I thought about my own sadness, my own melancholy, and the laughter of the passersby. Suddenly, I picked up my phone and sent her a text message.
"What are you doing? It's me, Xiao Li from work. I just wanted to ask if you still have your meeting tomorrow."
"What are you up to? When did you become Xiao Li? I'm home alone.
" "Oh, I thought you were out on a date and it was inconvenient, so I made up Xiao Li to avoid bothering you."
"You really came up with that. Where are you?"
"On ** Avenue. Just finished eating, walking along the street, and I missed you, so I called."
"Wait for me, I'll be there in a bit."
"Tell your parents that your female classmate broke up with her boyfriend and needs someone to keep her company, so she might not be able to come home tonight."
"I'll be there in a bit."
Twenty minutes later, she arrived, wearing a black mini-skirt, a white tank top, and high-heeled sandals. I admit I got hard. I wanted to take her to a hotel and fuck her hard, because she might already be someone else's woman.
We walked for a while, and I said I wanted to take her away. She smiled sweetly. In the taxi, we started kissing. My hand was already about to pull down the straps of her tank top.
I quickly grabbed the key card, went upstairs to the room, and pinned her to the bed. I started kissing her, pulling up her short skirt like a wide belt, revealing pink shorts and her mound of Venus. I unhooked her bra and kissed her roughly, kneading her buttocks.
After a frenzied kissing and groping, she went to take a shower. A short while after she entered the bathroom, I also took off my clothes and slipped into the shower. We embraced, our bodies sliding against each other with the lubrication of the soap suds, watching the hot water flow between our breasts and slowly slide down. I made her turn around and began to encircle her breasts from behind, my lips lightly brushing against her earlobe. The hot water sliding between my chest and her back, combined with the friction of our bodies and the warmth of the water, aroused her.
My penis was now at a 45-degree angle, and I crouched down slightly. My hot, rounded glans rubbed against her soft flesh, repeatedly trying to penetrate but not quite. She seemed a little anxious, and as the glans approached the entrance, she subconsciously began to twist her body, attempting to take it all in with her little mouth. But I subtly avoided her, seemingly unintentionally.
After a while, I turned her around so she was facing me. The fluid flowed over her chest, and my mouth followed the flow down her breasts. When I reached the summit, I took it in my mouth, gently stirring and sucking with my tongue, occasionally lightly nibbling at her nipples, eliciting involuntary gasps from her. My hands caressed her inner thighs, moving upwards to find the warm, moist spot. I covered her vulva with my palm, pressing it gently, while my fingers lightly pressed against her clitoris, slowly rubbing it. Due to the lubrication of the hot water and her vaginal fluids, her clitoris appeared erect and slippery.
Suddenly, she cupped my face in her hands and began to kiss me passionately, murmuring, "I want...I want..."
I couldn't hold back any longer. A woman who already had a boyfriend was saying "I want" to me; the thrill was probably more about the psychological pleasure of conquest. I had her bend over, her hands on the shower faucet, her buttocks slightly raised. I gently supported her buttocks with one hand and guided my penis with the other. After a few strokes, guided by her, I thrust straight in, beginning a series of shallow and deep thrusts. After a while, she became increasingly excited, her mouth uttering moans of pleasure along with intermittent murmurs, "I want...I want...I want...I want..."
Although the words weren't lewd or loud, they gave me a real sense of pleasure from being needed by a woman, especially someone else's woman. At that moment, the physical pleasure, the inner wickedness, the sensual delight were experiences I could never have had with any other woman or in any other situation.
That night, I made love to her six times, much to her surprise. Given my stamina at that time, I usually only did it once a night. If I had a partner with good stamina or who was particularly excited, I might last two nights. If I had a less capable partner or someone who was too tired,
even a whole night would feel like too much. But this time, being able to do it six times in one night was something I'd only experienced with my first love; it had never happened before. Real people need stimulation. That night, she gave me many experiences. Later, she would still call me. She even said domineeringly that we should be together often, even if we were both married, we should still meet at least once a month. Of course, I understood what she meant by "meet." Later, due to work, geographical distance, time constraints, and many other factors, we never had any more physical intimacy.
Sometimes I thought about seeking pleasure with her, but I never dared to touch that string. I was afraid of a musical instrument sitting in a corner; if I were to provoke or disturb it for my own selfish reasons, I might not only break the strings and ruin the notes, but even if I forced myself to play, the resulting melody wouldn't be the same as what I remembered. What a regret that would be!
To this day, I have never mentioned meeting her again. But the road ahead is still long.

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