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[A Passionate Encounter] [Author: Mad Scientist] 

The early autumn chill of the Cold Dew season brought a wave of coolness, but my heart was in turmoil.

My wife was having a rough time at work and had caught a cold from the cold weather, leaving me burning with pent-up desire with nowhere to vent. Then, my boss unexpectedly assigned me to a meeting in the far west, to be reprimanded by the big boss. The big boss had a packed schedule, so he compressed the three-day meeting into two, leaving the third day free. I was the scapegoat for two days, getting yelled at until I was completely disoriented, and extremely annoyed. On the last day, I just stayed in the hotel, sleeping, watching movies, sleeping, watching movies. Around 6 PM, I groggily scrolled through my WeChat Moments and immediately felt wide awake.

The reason for my awakening wasn't the food, of course, but the beautiful women. A female colleague from another branch office was also here for the meeting, posting many photos of herself eating and shopping during the day. Let's call her H.

H works for another branch office, far from mine, and I only occasionally run into her during meetings at headquarters. My first meeting with H was in the dead of winter, at a conference. Her flight was delayed, and the conference staff, shivering from the cold, left early. Since I was the second to last to arrive, the staff gave me her room key and meal vouchers to give to her. I didn't think much of it and accepted them. She arrived at the hotel after 3 a.m. and called to ask for her room key. I told her to wait outside her room while I brought it to her. I wrapped myself in a down jacket and wore dress pants and went. Her room was in another building, requiring me to walk through a 50-meter-long corridor on the first floor. I was shivering with cold when I gave her the key. I kept saying, "It's my honor to serve such a beautiful lady," while sneezing. She took the key apologetically and politely asked if I wanted to come inside and warm up before going back. I was only thinking about my warm bed and declined. During the subsequent conference, my sneezes echoed throughout the venue for days, and the leaders glared at me every time they saw me. Every time our eyes met, she would give me an apologetic smile. This contrast left me both amused and exasperated.

After a few casual encounters, we gradually added each other on WeChat and exchanged lukewarm greetings. At the same time, I subtly probed into her private life. Her husband was her master's classmate; they had dated for two years and been married for three, but hadn't had children. Both were physiologically healthy, but she just couldn't conceive. Therefore, a major taboo in our conversations was pregnancy or children.

This time, I was so engrossed in being scolded by the big boss and drawing little figures on my notebook that I didn't even notice she was there. I

immediately liked and commented on her post on WeChat Moments, and also privately complimented her on how beautiful she was. She replied quickly, asking if I had eaten dinner. She had found a supposedly excellent Western restaurant and wanted to treat me as a thank you for the gift card she had given me last time. With such a beautiful woman's invitation, my previous gloom vanished instantly, and I tidied myself up and headed to the meeting.

She wore a beige trench coat, a black undershirt, a gray skirt, and sheer black stockings—simple, stylish, and elegant. As we ate, she told me about the sights we'd visited and the food we'd eaten over the past three days. I joked that women are like little trains, always clattering and whirring around. She smiled radiantly, a truly beautiful sight. After a few glasses of red wine, she became a little tipsy, sometimes complaining about work troubles and family matters, sometimes reminiscing about the simplicity of high school and the romance of university, and sometimes sharing her dreams and aspirations. Before we knew it, it was 11 pm. I paid the bill, carrying her bags of shopping in my left hand and supporting her left arm with my right. Gradually, she went from passively being supported to actively linking her arm with mine, as intimate as a couple. Her long, flowing hair swayed in the autumn breeze, stirring my desires; her heaving breasts brushed against my arm, I could feel their softness and warmth. As we approached the hotel, she let go of my arm, deliberately keeping a certain distance, probably afraid of being seen in such an intimate situation by other colleagues.

In the elevator, we each pressed our own floor button. Then I canceled my own floor and said, "Let me take your spoils back to your room." Her cheeks flushed crimson. She opened

the door, and I stood in the doorway, handing her the bag. She reached out to take it, then withdrew her hand, asking, "Want to come inside and warm up before going back?"

At this moment, in this situation, even the most determined warrior would find it hard to resist such temptation.

I carried the bag in one hand and put my arm around her waist with the other, leading her into her room. As the door clicked shut automatically, I kissed her lips. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and passionately responded to my kiss. Her tongue, like a nimble snake, darted into my mouth, searching every corner. I took off her trench coat and vigorously kneaded her shapely buttocks with both hands. She twisted her hips, responding to my caresses while rubbing her genitals against my erection. She skillfully unbuckled my belt, pulled my penis out of my underwear, and quickly began stroking it with her hand. I lifted her skirt, pulled her underwear down to her knees, and made her turn around, bend over, and lean against the headboard. She was already soaking wet; no caresses were needed, and I thrust into her from behind. Her tightness, like a virgin's, made it hard to believe she'd been married for three years. I thrust into her forcefully from behind, pushing her black undershirt up from her waist to her chest with both hands. Her two large, white breasts seemed about to burst from the cups of her purple lace bra. I unhooked her bra with one hand and immediately grasped her breasts with the other. Soft, full, and smooth, her nipples were erect. She was so tight; even after drinking, I couldn't last more than a few minutes. Just before I ejaculated, I stopped inside her, taking the opportunity to remove my clothes and her top and stockings. Only her skirt covered our genitals. The feeling of wanting to ejaculate... I went ahead and started a new round of thrusting. Her plump buttocks, slender waist, and breasts, her fair skin flushed a rosy hue from my caresses, were visually striking far more than the sensations I felt. She was a little unsteady on her feet, turned around, and said, "Let me on top." I slowly withdrew my penis, and just when she thought I was really going to pull it out, I thrust in a few more times. She hadn't expected this move, and she collapsed heavily onto the bed, burying her head in the covers. I pulled out my penis, put on a condom I'd brought from my room, and lay down on the bed. She climbed on top of me, without taking off her skirt, and sat directly on me. A few seconds of emptiness and the stimulation of the condom's raised dots caused her to moan loudly—the first time she'd cried out since entering the room. She braced herself against my chest, her buttocks raised high, each thrust penetrating fully, her short skirt billowing at her waist, her pubic hair peeking through. I grabbed her breast with one hand and held her waist with the other. Suddenly she screamed, and I felt her vagina tighten violently. She was about to climax. I moved in sync with her, sitting down and lifting up, thrusting my hips forcefully, pounding into her. The last few thrusts were especially tight, so much so that I could barely penetrate her, while she nestled shyly against my chest, feeling my ejaculation with each stroke. She lay on top of me, my penis still inside her. I pulled the blanket over us, stroking her bare back and shapely buttocks. Her breasts were pressed between us, her nipples still erect. She said she and her husband had been trying to conceive for the past two years, only having sex during her fertile window; otherwise, her husband wouldn't dare touch her, afraid of wasting his "ammunition." These past few days, her period had just ended, and she'd been holding back for so long, so it was my turn. I smiled mischievously, pulling her even closer.

After a long time, she got up, kissed me, lifted her buttocks, pulled my penis out, and went to the bathroom to shower.

I lay in bed, reminiscing about how we met and dated, and the passion we'd just shared. The steam in the bathroom made the frosted glass slightly transparent, revealing glimpses of her alluring body and graceful figure. My penis, which had just softened, began to stir again. I took off the condom, and it hardened once more. I pushed open the bathroom door, and she instinctively covered her chest with her hands, then splashed some water on me. I didn't flinch; I went straight to her and hugged her, licking her ear. She went limp in my arms again. I pressed my hands against her shoulders, and she understood, squatting down to wash my penis with the shower water before taking it into her mouth. Her tongue was still so agile, without a hint of teeth. Watching my penis slide into her mouth as if it were her vagina, a surge of satisfaction and a desire to conquer overwhelmed me. She swallowed and released for a while, then, sensing my extreme hardness, she released it. I hastily dried ourselves with a towel, then lifted her up, face to face. She wrapped her legs around my waist, the position perfect, and my penis slid effortlessly into her vagina. As I thrust in and out, I carried her to the bedside, placed her on it, and used the most traditional missionary position, nine shallow thrusts followed by one deep one. Having just ejaculated and having drunk alcohol, my penis was much less sensitive, so with this intermittent, shallow and deep thrusting, it took about half an hour before I felt the urge to ejaculate. She whispered in my ear, "Shoot inside!" I thought no man would be rational enough to use a condom in that situation. I didn't care that she hadn't gotten pregnant in two years, whether she was in her safe period, or that her vagina was already convulsing with orgasm. I thrust in and out at full speed, completing my first ejaculation inside her. After ejaculating, I didn't pull out. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I held her, and we fell asleep like that.

The morning sunlight shone on my face. I lazily opened my eyes. Her warmth and scent still lingered by the bedside, but she was gone, and there was no sound from the bathroom. There was a note on the bedside table, her elegant handwriting, just like her: "Thank you for the happiness you gave me. Dreams are beautiful, but they must end." Looking forward to the next chance encounter. h. "

Yes, it's all a dream, and we must wake up eventually. I packed my bags, checked out of the hotel, and left this city that didn't belong to us, yet once did.

The chill of early autumn crept in.

Postscript:

1. Although my interactions with h were limited, we still managed to understand each other's personalities. Providing each other with a sense of security was perhaps the primary condition we both valued. We're both married and can't afford to play the game of mistresses and lovers; only a chance encounter like this is suitable. Safety first, restraint.

2. I regretted it afterwards; I shouldn't have ejaculated inside. But considering h's character and personality, she probably didn't want her husband to become a father unintentionally.

3. I also felt guilty, sorry to my wife and my family. But "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, for ye may ye have no flowers left to pluck." I'll go back and treat my wife better to make up for my guilt.

Word count: 6677

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[The End]

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