Young women are often lonely.

Wanqing, a 28-year-old married woman with a three-year-old daughter, 　　was experiencing loneliness. Her husband, a long-time local resident, was unemployed and lived off rent. She had resigned from her job at a cultural company nearly three years prior to giving birth and had been staying home to care for her child.
Both her family and her husband's were relatively wealthy; she drove a Santana. Besides caring for her child, she spent her days shopping, and her evenings online or watching TV. As the days passed, she grew increasingly lonely and bored. Three years after resigning, she lacked the courage to return to work, and a strange sense of inferiority and nihilism about the future developed within her. When she met me online, she was in this extreme state of mind. I impressed her with my intelligence, understanding of life and the world, and vibrant energy. She increasingly enjoyed discussing her various psychological problems and worries with me.
After about ten chats, I suggested meeting in person, stating that if we couldn't meet, I would stop trying to connect online. After two days of silence, Wanqing agreed.
The meeting place was to be the coffee shop on the seventh floor of the Beihai Wantai Building on Dongsi Shitiao Street. The next day was Saturday, and I arrived early at the agreed time—1 p.m. I tried to calm my racing heart with coffee while reading a magazine and keeping my eyes glued to the entrance. The clock had already struck 1:20, and no one suspicious had appeared. I began to feel uneasy and gradually grew anxious. After waiting another ten minutes, I got angry, stood up to leave, and as I turned back to the bar, 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 skipped a beat. Doubt, anxiety, and turmoil swirled 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 skin, exposed above her clothing, was fair and flawless. Her long hair hung down, covering most of her face; the part that was visible showed a dignified and calm demeanor, but with a hint of barely perceptible unease. I couldn't be sure if this woman was Wan Qing, but I had a feeling she was someone I knew, but could it really be her
? Back then, I wasn't as seasoned and shrewd as I am now, and I dared not act rashly. Lost in thought, I walked to the bar. Perhaps it was innate talent, but without any warning, I made a bold move, telling the bartender, "Settle the bill for the lady at table 13 as well." As I spoke, I saw the woman's body tremble slightly, her lowered eyes seeming to quickly turn towards me. I hardened my heart at that moment and turned to walk towards her. The woman panicked, her body and eyes unfocused, suddenly transforming into a lamb facing a wolf charging
at her. Perhaps I truly possess some kind of romantic talent; I walked to the table and actually reached out to her, saying, "Let's go." The woman was utterly dumbfounded (her kind and gentle face in that moment is something I will never forget), her eyes wide with surprise and doubt, her slightly purplish lips trembling slightly. In a moment of bewildered hesitation, she reached out her arm (a gentleness and submissiveness I had never encountered before). I took her hand and pulled her up. Holding her hand, her fair skin was almost blinding and pierced my heart. Her hand was smooth and silky, seemingly 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 large bulge in my trousers! I was utterly ashamed! Men are truly masculine animals.
When she stood up, I was surprised again: she seemed to be a little taller than me. I quickly looked at 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 scrutinizing her shoes and feet, the woman lowered her head 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 sure if 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, only her rapid, soft breathing could be heard. When we arrived at the Workers' Stadium, we got off, went upstairs, and closed the door. The woman was dragged along, staggering, until we reached the room. Of course, the room was my place.
When we got to the room and I let go, my hands were drenched in sweat. When she was released, she seemed to lose her support and leaned against the bed, her whole body trembling slightly in spasms. I was young then, full of energy, and my mind wasn't so complicated; impulse took over. I scooped her up and, amidst her faint gasps of surprise, slammed her onto the bed. I ripped off my clothes, my erection throbbing, and pressed myself against her. As I pinned her down, she clutched her face, twisting and struggling violently. My heart pounded, my breath quickened, and I forcefully pulled her hands away, capturing her lips in my mouth, sucking and thrusting. Despite the sweltering heat, her lips were icy cold; her mouth muscles seemed completely out of control, unable to open or close. After a few moments of nibbling and tongue-stirring, her lips and mouth began to warm, her breath sweet and her panting increasingly rapid. I was about to take my own. Ignoring her weak pleas, I recklessly stripped her of all her clothing, leaving only a pair of white panties and stockings.
I was astonished by her flawless white skin, seemingly hairless, and her entire body a milky white. During the struggle, my large penis unconsciously pierced her body, waist, breasts, and legs, causing a sharp pain. I became increasingly unable to control myself, ignoring her pleas of "Please, don't do this, okay?" and "No! What should I do?" I didn't even bother to look at her; I ripped her stockings apart. It felt like tearing the outer layer of a scallion, or ripping off an animal's fur, tearing it into pieces. When I pulled down her panties, she seemed to awaken somewhat. She stopped covering her chest and face with her hands and instead held onto her panties tightly, 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 my right hand, I ripped them off with a single pull. The young woman screamed, as if she had hurt her hand. I pressed my upper body against the young woman's chest, wrapped my legs around her limp thighs, held her struggling body tightly with my right hand, and guided my penis to her tender vulva with my left. With a powerful thrust of my hips, I plunged it all the way in! The head of my 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, rapid thrusting. After hundreds of thrusts, I let out a long sigh, my body tensing, and with a sudden, forceful thrust, my penis plunged deep into her vagina, as if forcing open that deepest protrusion, releasing a torrent of intense passion.
Catching my breath, I noticed tears streaming from the young woman's tightly closed eyes, her breathing extremely weak. Terrified, I quickly scrambled to my feet, shaking and calling to her, but she remained motionless, only tears slowly flowing from her eyes. This terrified me; I was frantic and completely lost my composure. When I checked her breath with my lips, it was very weak and her lips were icy cold. Lifting her body, I found it was covered in sweat but also cold and limp, as if boneless. I called out to her loudly, terrified something would happen to her. After calling her several times, seeing no movement, I quickly said, "Hold on! I'll call 120." Just as I was frantically dialing, I heard her weakly say, "No…," I immediately put down the phone and went to check on her. Seeing that she was still lifeless, I said, "Don't be afraid, saving her life is the priority. Call 120." The young woman moved her lips, as if gathering her strength, and managed to squeeze out two sentences: "Don't call… It's okay, I won't die… Don't be afraid, it'll be alright in a while." Half an hour later, the young woman's condition gradually improved, and she slowly regained her strength.
After recovering, she silently got up and put on the clothes I had thrown on the ground, her face flushed purple. I didn't know what to do at that moment, and could only look at her.
Her underwear and stockings were torn, so the young woman had to put on her high heels barefoot and bare legs, intending to walk out. She took two steps and had just reached the door when she swayed, almost falling over. I caught her. Seeing this, I snapped out of my daze and quickly went to support her. She struggled slightly, then let me help her to sit on the edge of the bed. As soon as she sat down, the young woman struggled to stand up, and without giving me a chance to explain, walked to the side and leaned against the bed. After about ten minutes, my mind gradually cleared, and my knowledge and experience began to come into play. I knew I had hurt her feelings and self-esteem. At this point, there was no other way but to accept the mistake and make the hurt seem normal. As I quickly thought, I observed the young woman. Without her stockings, she seemed even whiter, and although I could still vaguely see strands of sweat on her legs, she was even more sexy and vibrant. Her slender, delicate legs were crossed, supporting her body—a posture that made my blood boil!
I gritted my teeth, stood up, and walked over. She seemed to avoid me. I held her somewhat frail 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 could you do this?" I quickly comforted and explained. After comforting her for more than ten minutes, the young woman finally let me hold her and sit on the bed. After apologizing repeatedly again, I 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 I returned with the stockings, shorts, drinks, and a set of clothes that looked basically the same as hers, I found her lying on the bed asleep. I didn't disturb her, but sat in a chair and looked at her. She wasn't particularly beautiful, but she was dignified and delicate. What was rare was that even her appearance had a reserved and elegant quality. 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. Her legs were long and thin, and her feet and hips were especially sexy, making me hard just looking at her!
Recalling the passion just now, I felt her vagina was 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; I penetrated her uterus directly! Watching her, my lower body became hot and hard again, and I desperately wanted to go and have sex with her again! But I dared not; she had already fainted once, and doing it again could easily cause problems. Reluctantly, I moved a chair to the bedside, stroking her legs and feet while masturbating (damn! Thinking back, I was really pathetic). She was sleeping soundly. When I was about to ejaculate, I moved her legs off the bed and ejaculated onto her feet.
Afterwards, panting and admiring her incredibly sexy little white feet, I unknowingly fell asleep...

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Young women are often lonely.

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