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From then on, chastity was a thing of the past. 

    page views:1  Publication date:2023-03-24  
In life, people use their real names to tell lies; online, people use fake names to tell the truth.
Therefore, the following content is entirely true, but some literary embellishments have been added just to please your eyes.
I've wanted to write this for a long time, but for various reasons, I haven't been able to. Firstly, I haven't had much free time, and secondly, I didn't know where to post it or what kind of treatment it would receive. Now, both of these problems seem to have been solved. Therefore, you can see the following text.
Why use "n"? Generally, it indicates a large number, and secondly, it indicates uncertainty, because I don't know if I'll have another one-night stand after I start writing, so this piece may not have an ending.
The First Infidelity in a Car
In the park, birds were chirping, and a black Honda slowly pulled up on a lawn. The morning sunlight shone through the branches, dappling the car.
Just now, while he was driving, he took a moment to touch my hand. I was afraid something would happen, so I slapped it back. Then, he kept turning his head to look at me, and I warned him to "drive carefully," which made him behave a little.
Now, we're in a safe haven. He can hold my hand without restraint and give me a thorough once-over with his burning gaze. Even though it's our first meeting, he shows no shyness whatsoever; he seems to be a seasoned player. He keeps saying I don't look thirty, more like twenty-eight at most, praising my good looks, while my son is already three.
He works in business planning, three years younger than me. When I learned on QQ that he was from Hunan, I felt a little uncomfortable because I don't like people from Hunan. Most of my Hunan colleagues at work aren't good-looking, their Mandarin is terrible, and they have a habit I hate most: smoking. Only after his persistent pleading did I give him my phone number. When the call connected, I had no hope, thinking he'd inevitably have terrible Mandarin again. But to my surprise, his Mandarin was actually quite good, and his voice was even acceptable. After repeatedly confirming that he didn't smoke and that he looked decent in the photos he sent, I decided to meet him.
However, the car wasn't his; he'd borrowed it from a friend. As his fingers wandered, I felt his breathing become increasingly rapid. Good heavens, was it really going to happen in the car?
My suspicions were confirmed. He called me to the back seat, took out newspapers—perhaps prepared beforehand—and covered all the windows. Then, he began kissing me impatiently and quickly undressed…
Perhaps out of nervousness, or feeling the place wasn't safe enough, he finished hastily, while I was still getting aroused.
He dropped me off at the bus stop and drove off to work. From the moment we met until we parted, less than an hour had passed. I couldn't believe this had happened; it felt like a dream. Only when his diluted semen leaked out and soaked his underwear did I come to my senses—it was all real.
From that moment on, I was no longer a respectable woman.
[The End]

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