The surprise of repairing a computer

I remember it was June 2003, during the NBA Finals. While watching the live text commentary online, I received instructions from my boss that a friend's computer might be infected with a virus, and I needed to handle it. I was incredibly frustrated! Being able to only read text was already annoying enough, but now I couldn't even read text.

Some might say, "Why not go to the client's house to watch the game?" Ah, only those who know the struggles know the real pain! A colleague of mine used to watch the NBA, and he got a complaint from a client and had 200 yuan deducted from his paycheck. Back then, a month's salary was only 600 yuan; he was heartbroken!

Later, the company leadership held a meeting specifically about this, emphasizing that we should prioritize clients, maintain a good attitude, and not be too casual at clients' homes unless there's a strong relationship. We had to be polite, after all, he was a college graduate. Frustrated as I was, I still had to get to work; life had to go on.

A dozen minutes later, I arrived at the client's house according to the address, rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later the door opened. I was stunned—a stunningly beautiful woman! In my twenty-odd years of life, I had never seen such an elegant girl. Even now, I can only say that she had an exceptionally good aura. It's a feeling, like how some people exude a powerful presence—you can sense it, but can't quite articulate it.

I stood frozen at the doorway. The girl opposite me noticed the tool bag I was carrying, smiled, and said, "You're here to fix computers, right?"

I snapped out of my daze: "Yes, sorry! I'm from the countryside, I've never seen anything like you before."

The girl said, "Oh, thank you! Come in! Change your slippers here and then go to the room upstairs." Then she turned around, and I vaguely saw a smile on her face as she turned. Looking back now, she must have been praised for her beauty by many, but I was probably the first person to say she had such a good aura.

After changing my slippers, I looked around the room. Wow! Rich people's rooms are so grand! The decor was so luxurious. I wonder if I'll ever have the chance to live in a house like that? Because of this thought, I used to dream of finding a beautiful, rich girl to be my live-in son-in-law—hehe, that would save me decades of hard work! Aren't I unambitious, folks? Unfortunately, I'm married now, so I'll have to figure out my own dream of living in a mansion. Judging by the current situation, it seems like a long way off!

Following the stairs, I arrived at the girl's room. Her laptop, a Sony, was already on.

The girl pointed at the computer and said, "It was working fine last night, but it stopped working this morning. Could it be because I received a file with a virus on QQ yesterday?" I

went closer to look: "Why is the local connection showing an 'X'?" I checked the network cable; it was plugged in properly. Following the cable, I saw it went from the ceiling to the balcony and then to the next room. Hmm, it must be split by a router. These days, rich people have many computers, and those without money use routers to share the internet cost. However, some places are already blocking shared internet access. Chinese telecom service providers are despicable; I'll say a few words about that here.

Although it's said that "the devil is always one step ahead," there aren't many tech-savvy people. There are countless ways to bypass the restrictions online, but even the simplest solutions are still impossible for some people. They have a natural awe of computers, haha! That's where people like us come in handy.

Back in the Windows 95/Windows 98 era, installing a system was something only professionals could do. Now, Ghost systems are everywhere; even newbies can just throw in a CD, and it's working in ten minutes. Only when the computer is severely infected with a virus do we, the experts, have to step in. Sigh, because general computer maintenance is becoming increasingly low-skilled, our wages have always been very low, basically on par with the average wage in many places.

"Shall we go check if the router next door is turned off?" I said, walking towards the next room, the girl following closely behind. When we got there, everything seemed normal. I unplugged and replugged all the network cables connected to the router, but the port connected to the girl's room was still not lit.

"This network cable might be broken. I'll get a cable tester to check." I took it out of my toolbox and tested it; it turned out that pins 3 and 8 weren't lit.

"Ah, pins 3 and 8 aren't lit, are they broken?" the girl asked softly.

"Hmm, pins 3 and 8 might be broken. But that's easy to fix. A network cable has 8 cores, but usually only pins 1, 2, 3, and 6 are used. If you can't find the faulty part, just use any four working cores and wire them in the same order on both sides. Now I'll check the cable." I

followed the cable to the balcony, and saw that the cable at the bend on the balcony seemed to have a problem. I climbed up. (PS: Because of the nature of network cables, I often keep one of these in my laptop bag. I use four cores for the RJ45 connectors, with two 568b connectors on one side and one 568b and one 568a connector on the other side. This way, one cable has both straight-through and crossover connections, saving space in my laptop bag.)

Sure enough, when I picked up the cable, I saw some wear and tear. I called to the girl, "Miss, could you please get me some scissors and electrical tape from that open toolbox?" Hehe, it's a habit. I always want to order around younger people. After all, I'm the manager! However, many girls nowadays don't want to be called "Miss" anymore. Sigh, let's mourn for the word "Miss"

for three seconds. The girl turned around and found scissors and black tape in her toolbox to hand to me. I lowered my head, my hand reaching down to take it, and suddenly, I froze. I saw it! I saw it! Haha! It wasn't a wasted trip; this alone surpasses countless NBs! Oh, sorry, it's two points, two points! I was so excited. Did you all guess it? The girl wasn't wearing a bra. Heaven, you've been kind to me! I lost my NB, but who knows if it's a blessing in disguise.

The girl's breasts looked very firm. Who can argue with that? If they weren't firm, they would sag even more without a bra. In the very center of those fair breasts, two bright red nipples stood proudly. The areolas were the size of a lithium battery on a motherboard, unlike the areolas of many Japanese AV actresses these days, which are beyond terrifying. My little brother instantly stood up in 0.1 seconds. I don't know how long I stared, and I still don't, because I never asked the question.

"What are you looking at? Take it!" The girl looked up, her face flushed with slight anger, probably because she saw my lewd gaze and the tent that had just been erected above her. (It was a little past 10 a.m., and the sun was quite strong, so the girl didn't look up. If she had, even if I had seen her, it would have been for half a second. Ah, I love the sun.)

I quickly withdrew my reluctant gaze, handed over the tools with one hand, without even thinking of touching her delicate hand. I gently unstripped the network cable, reconnected the broken white-green and brown wires, and then wrapped it with black electrical tape. Done! I jumped off the balcony, inwards, not outwards. I'm not like those experts at Huawei who can jump with perfect aim; I've never heard of anyone surviving a jump from Huawei. Truly world-leading skill.

I walked over, and the girl was opening IE. Hao123's homepage popped up immediately. Then, glancing casually (I really didn't mean to look, please don't hit me!), I noticed a clear strap mark under her clothes. Damn, that was incredibly fast! She'd put it on so quickly! I sighed.

"Try it again to see if there are any problems. If not, I'm leaving," I said disappointedly, my eyes fixed on the screen. Although she didn't speak, I could clearly sense her unease.

She double-clicked to open QQ. I glanced at the number—oh my god! 998891*8, that number looked familiar. Let me think...who was it again? I stared at her QQ.

The girl turned around and said, "No problem, very fast. You can go now."

"Are you using the screen name Bing'er?" I remembered, before logging into QQ.

"How did you know?" the girl asked, turning around.

"My screen name is Xingye Han," I said slowly.

"Brother Han, is it really you? Thank you for helping me so much before, teaching me so much about computers. I never expected such a coincidence!" The girl was a little excited.

Hehe, we live in the same city, but I've never met any of my online friends in person, because everyone knows there are so many unattractive people these days. I've met a few before, but after seeing so many, I got disappointed and never met them again, not even via video. I'd rather fantasize than be disappointed, so I haven't met any more online friends since.

But this Bing'er is special. Once, when I was troubleshooting a problem on QQ, I spent too long trying to fix it, and my headset happened to break. So I just asked for her phone number and called her. Because of her pleasant voice, I even wrote a "poem" for her. Here's an excerpt, a doodle, please excuse my poor writing.

You in my heart

are like a wisp of cloud in the clear blue sky after the rain

, effortlessly capturing my entire vision.

My longing

pierces the endless night sky.

Your gentle words on the phone

linger in my lonely nights

, their echoes making my dreams no longer solitary.

If making a wish upon a shooting star a thousand times

could grant one wish ,

I would gladly wait under the stars every night

. After that, she became my usual object of nighttime daydreaming, and we chatted more and more on QQ, talking more and more, sometimes even about inappropriate things. At first, she ignored me, but after a while, she got used to it and became quite explicit.

"I really didn't expect it to be you! I'm so sorry about that earlier, you wouldn't badmouth me, would you? I said I'm from the countryside, with elderly parents and young children to support, life is hard, and it's not easy to live here!" I tried to lighten the mood with a joke.

"It's okay, you lecherous cat, I already know what you're like. I've given you a feast for the eyes today, so I'll wipe the slate clean of all the favors I owed you before. And don't mention 'I owe you 32 meals' on QQ anymore." Bing'er's tone was noticeably better, regaining its QQ charm.

"I'm home alone today, so have lunch here for the afternoon before you go back, so you won't call me a stingy miser later." Women really do change quickly!

"I'll have to report back after I'm done." I took the phone.

"Are you really being honest or just pretending? After reporting, don't you have to go back to work? If something happens later, just tell your boss you're working hard here, having to climb high and low, it might not be over so quickly." Bing'er rolled her eyes at me.

"Climb high and low, oh!" I laughed awkwardly, "You can cook? Did you put laxatives in it?" We men are just thick-skinned.

"You're so dishonest, a little punishment is justified. I'll add a little extra to the dosage later. Humph! But seriously, I like to shower in the morning. I'll go shower first, then cook dinner. Anyway, it's not 11 o'clock yet! You can browse the internet on my laptop." With that, she grabbed a nightgown from the closet and left.

Seeing that slightly transparent, silver-white nightgown, my penis instantly hardened again. Damn, she reacted so quickly! My heart was racing! Luckily, she was gone. However, I still didn't want to let her off the hook: "Hey, Bing'er, can I watch you shower?"

A heavenly voice came from afar: "Come on over if you're not afraid of death."

Hearing this, I immediately turned around happily, obediently sat in front of the laptop, and picked up the mouse. I checked online; the NB results were out. Sigh, now I won't have a chance to watch TV. After browsing some more websites, I gradually got bored. Suddenly, I got a little curious and wanted to see if there was anything good on the girl's computer? I clicked and clicked, but the folders didn't contain any special files—just songs, ebooks, and documents!

I thought for a moment, then enabled the system's hidden folder properties. I looked inside the Bing'er folder on the last drive; there was a transparent folder. "This is it!" I thought.

I quickly clicked in, and saw it was full of images. I thought, "You even hid the images? Are they pornographic?" Hehe, do we have a common interest? Double-clicking opened the images automatically.

Oh my god! My god! Photobooks! And incredibly seductive ones at that, subtly revealing, breathtaking. I looked further down, and something seemed familiar. It was all Bing'er herself.

I looked at each image with an artistic eye. The software said there were 36! Awesome! Each image featured a different pose, and the clothing (if you could even call it that) was incredibly varied. The different poses made my heart race. I stared intently at the laptop. The after-sales service was really good! The customer is king, and she was my king now. I looked and looked, and soon only three pictures were left.

"Pretty, right? You can continue." A cold voice came from behind me.

I didn't react for a moment: "Pretty, really pretty, much prettier than those so-called celebrities online! Want to come and take a look?" I casually pressed "page down" and looked at two more pictures.

There was no more movement after that. Then I realized what was happening, and I turned around 180 degrees to see Bing'er's expressionless face: "Ah, Bing'er, I'm sorry! Really, I was appreciating it with an absolutely artistic eye. It's very well taken, very artistic."

"An artistic eye?" Bing'er's gaze shifted to my lower body.

Without looking down, I knew I was wrong. I scratched my head and said, "It's just my nature, hehe! I'm a pervert, you already knew that. Don't be angry, I'm not eating. Bye-bye!" I bent down, picked up my tool bag, and walked towards the door.

Joking aside, invading someone's privacy can be a big deal or a small one. I had a guilty conscience about what happened on the balcony, but it wasn't a huge offense, since she wasn't wearing a bra first, and now I've exposed her hidden secret.

I'd only taken two steps past Bing'er when I heard a "pfft": "I thought you were incredibly lecherous, but it turns out you've got the desire but not the guts! I dared to take pictures, why would I be afraid to let you see? I just don't want my underage family members to see."

I stopped and slowly turned around. Bing'er had turned around sometime earlier and said to me, "Don't you want to see the real thing?" Her smile looked a little sly.

Bing'er before me was like a lotus emerging from water, her freshly washed hair cascading over her soft, boneless shoulders, wearing a slightly transparent, silver-white nightgown. Oh no! Heavens! There were two obvious nipples on her chest. My lustful eyes quickly glanced down and seemed to see a patch of black. There wasn't a sound; the air seemed to stand still.

Bing'er stared directly into my eyes. I looked her up and down, but didn't say a word. I understood immediately; this fresh-out-of-the-bath girl was clearly trying to seduce me, a young man who had just come of age! I could feel my little brother swelling and throbbing with blood; I couldn't take it anymore.

I put down my toolbox, lifted my leg, and took a step forward—a small step for me, but a giant leap for my little brother. I gently, very gently, grasped Bing'er's hand. I felt her struggle slightly, but not too much. I moved closer, sending gentle waves of light through my innocent, lustful eyes. Bing'er's body trembled slightly. Was she feeling a little cold after the bath? The thought had barely crossed my mind when my little brother growled, "Hurry, hurry, she can't wait!" Damn it, I don't know what's wrong with my little brother. Are you kidding me? It's you who can't wait!

Having watched countless Category III films and a few adult films, I lack practical experience. In the past, when I was burning with lust, I relied on my all-powerful hands to relieve myself; I called it "one move and I'd have a billion" (not donating a billion, of course, but producing a billion sperm with my hands). My head gently touched Bing'er's forehead, then moved down to kiss her nose. Bing'er's breathing became more and more rapid. My hands encircled her back, gently stroking it. Then I kissed Bing'er's cherry-like lips. Bing'er's lips were tightly closed, but I kept kissing them, my hands also reaching for Bing'er's high, firm buttocks.

Suddenly, my hands increased the pressure, and Bing'er let out a soft moan, her lips opening slightly, and my tongue immediately slipped inside. My tongue teased and played with Bing'er's mouth, and gradually Bing'er's lowered hands also reached towards my back. I used both hands and mouth; a lecherous man doesn't act like a gentleman, only using words and not his hands. Bing'er's tongue wasn't to be outdone, and began to intertwine with mine.

Just kissing wasn't enough; the real show was just beginning. As I did it, I thought about scenes from adult films—these were too far-fetched. My hands would surely find plenty of use. My hands slowly rose from inside her pajamas, reaching her lower back and back; my lips continued to kiss, but with ever-changing techniques.

Slowly, slowly, my right hand gently moved from her back to her chest, suddenly grasping her entire breast firmly, just the right size to hold in my hand. After three light squeezes, I used my first three fingers, timed by three seconds, to pinch her nipple and gently stroke it. Soon, Bing'er's nipple hardened.

I kissed and caressed her as I moved closer to the bed, and Bing'er cooperated. My mouth and hands left where we had just been, reaching for the straps of Bing'er's pajamas, giving them a gentle tug without any unnecessary movement. Bing'er's hands also reached for my clothes, her face still flushed. Bing'er's movements to unbutton them were clumsy, and I couldn't waste time—that would mean wasting my life!

One hand remained on her breast, gently and repeatedly pinching her nipple, while the other caressed her buttocks. Summer clothes were so nice; although Bing'er was slow, she managed to remove all my clothes. When she took off my underwear, her face flushed red at the sight of my firm erections, which was incredibly alluring.

I picked Bing'er up and placed her on the Simmons bed; her pajamas were still on, just unbuttoned. Bing'er covered her face and genitals with her hands, which only made my penis even more aroused. Since that's the case, I'll start this battle with her two peaks!

My left hand reached for Bing'er's right breast, repeating the actions I'd just performed—practice makes perfect. My mouth aimed at Bing'er's left nipple, kissing it with my lips and teeth. Bing'er's hands left her face, and her moans grew louder. A girl's moans are the most beautiful sounds in the world, especially since Bing'er's voice was already very beautiful.

My left hand left its base and reached for Bing'er's genitals, opening a new battlefield. My left hand slid over her pubic hair, and it felt so different! If it were hair, it would look similar, but the feeling of touching it was worlds apart. Of course, pubic hair is just an embellishment; without it, a girl always seems a bit off. (PS: This is just my personal opinion. The world is a big place, and there are all kinds of people; some people like pubic hair.)

Just as my fingers touched the ends of her pubic hair, accompanied by a "No!", my hand was grabbed. Hmm, I've seen this before; it's always like this in movies and novels—the last forbidden area! I bit Bing'er's nipple with thirty percent more force, and after a heart-melting moan, the restraint on my left hand disappeared.

My middle finger moved towards her clitoris, relentlessly working on that little bump. Bing'er's moans grew louder and louder, and I became more and more excited. My left hand touched her labia, and they were already overflowing with moisture. Ah, summer is prone to flooding!

I sat up; I couldn't take it anymore. My little brother needed a safe harbor. Clearly, Bing'er needed it too; her face was flushed. I had no time to appreciate it. I picked up the man's symbol, aimed it at the entrance to the Peach Blossom Cave, and thrust my lower body forward. The gun was already halfway in when it seemed to encounter some resistance.

Suddenly, I felt a jolt. Oh my god! No, why? Ladies and gentlemen, how can I face the Party Central Committee and the people? I ejaculated! That's right, you read that right. My penis hadn't even started fighting yet; it was only halfway in when I ejaculated. Why? Why?

Back then, when I used my lovely hand, I had to masturbate for a while, and I had to increase the pressure at the end to ejaculate. I used to read that men who masturbate too much have difficulty ejaculating and it's bad for fertility. Damn it, what's going on? If the timing starts at the beginning of penetration, I'm 0 seconds. This is breaking the world record. White semen flowed out, but I didn't care anymore. This pleasure was so different from masturbation. I was filled with guilt. I've let so many people down!

Bing'er clearly sensed something was wrong. She sat up and looked at me, who was looking down, saying, "This is your first time too, right? I read in a book that premature ejaculation is normal. Just try a few more times, and you'll be less agitated later. Don't think I'm lewd! I've read some books on this topic. Let me help you!"

Bing'er casually grabbed two sheets of toilet paper from the bedside table and cleaned up the remnants of their silent battle. First, she cleaned my penis, then she cleaned herself. Oh, she's so considerate; I felt a surge of excitement.

Bing'er threw the toilet paper into the trash can. Ugh, she's obviously never played basketball; her strength and trajectory were off. Watching the paper fall onto the wooden floor, Bing'er stuck out her tongue, pulled off her pajamas, and then knelt down, taking my limp penis into her mouth.

Oh my god! So good! Bing'er is giving me oral sex! What did she just say? "This is your first time too, right?" What does that mean? She's a virgin! Although she seems knowledgeable, she probably learned it all from the internet! Look at Chen Guan C, he trained countless masters, didn't he? In front of this epoch-making, iconic "sex" figure, predecessors like Ximen Qing are now forgotten. The once-in-a-millennium Chen Guan C will cultivate countless bed elites; his "essence" and "spirit" will be immortal, just like his sausages.

Hmm, good things shouldn't be kept to oneself; I should be grateful. I lifted Bing'er's head, and Bing'er looked at me with a puzzled expression: "Am I very lewd?"

"No, you're just like that. The saying 'three wives' is perfectly embodied in you. Let me serve you too. I specialize in after-sales service; I'm also the manager, and I'll even handle your period." (ps: "Three wives" means: "A noblewoman in the living room, a cook in the dining room, and a slut in the bedroom.")

I laid Bing'er flat, and then the classic 69 position was introduced. This is a great invention in the history of human reproduction, if it can be called an invention, because without the internet, many people might only know the missionary position their whole lives.

I turned around, lay down, and gently parted Bing'er's labia with my hands. Bing'er was truly a perfect masterpiece of nature; her red labia still held the lingering vaginal fluid, which seemed to make my penis hard again. I licked it down; no matter what, that's how it's done in porn, and my penis found a good place.

Bing'er and I moved our mouths incessantly, and we both clearly felt intense pleasure. My penis regained its strength and became harder and harder. Under the skillful movements of my tongue, Bing'er's vaginal fluid flowed more and more, and my tongue tasted more and more salty. I thought the time was ripe for a strategic offensive, so I raised my head, and Bing'er's mouth, sensing my movements, left my penis.

Okay, next step, turn around, pick up the weapon, aim at the target, and thrust in. There was still resistance. Oh! It must be the hymen? Be gentle, be gentle, I'm very gentle. But being gentle wouldn't solve the problem. After struggling for half a minute, I said to Bing'er, "I'll increase the pressure. If it hurts, call me and I'll stop."

"Okay," Bing'er replied, followed by an "Ahhh!"

I quickly stopped. Bing'er said, "It's okay. I heard it hurts the first time. Just bear with it." I nodded and applied more pressure to my penis. With another painful "Ahhh" from Bing'er, my weapon went all the way in.

I stopped, looked at Bing'er, and with her "it's okay, keep going" look, I began thrusting. Of course, as a modern youth heavily influenced by adult films, porn, and erotic books, I at least knew the "nine shallow, one deep" technique. So, I used this technique, watching Bing'er's expression as I went. Women are so beautiful at this moment! The moans were like heavenly music in my ears, and her eyes were filled with a dreamy gaze.

After about ten minutes of piston-like movements, since Bing'er's "Peach Blossom Spring" was being opened to the public for the first time, my little brother wasn't moving very smoothly in the tight, narrow passage. As the pleasure intensified, I quickly forgot about the "nine shallow, one deep" technique and sped up my thrusting. At this point, Bing'er's moans grew louder, and her eyes became increasingly glazed. I didn't care if the neighbors heard or not.

After a few more thrusts, my little brother felt a warmth; I thought Bing'er had reached her climax. I couldn't hold back any longer and finally ejaculated again, thrusting a few more times as I did so.

Then I pulled out my weapon, which still had faint traces of blood on it. I lay down, holding Bing'er, and gently stroked her nipple. Facing each other, I felt my mouth go dry; Bing'er probably felt the same!

"Is it comfortable?" I asked with a wicked grin.

"Mmm, the feeling is indescribable, just so comfortable, so very comfortable." Bing'er whispered in my ear, "You're so audacious! Why didn't you dare watch me shower earlier?"

"Because I'm honest but also afraid of death!" I laughed smugly.

"Then why were you neither honest nor afraid of death later?" Bing'er's hand gently brushed across my chest, from left to right, repeatedly.

"That's because you seduced me! You're so sexy; if I were afraid of death, you wouldn't be able to seduce me, wouldn't I be heartbroken? I just considered it a good deed, a virtuous act." I started to get carried away.

"Don't be like that!" Bing'er's coquettish words made my whole body go weak.

I kissed Bing'er and said, "I want to do it again, shall we?" My hand then reached for Bing'er's firm breasts.

"You're still up for it?" Bing'er touched my penis. "It's so soft, how can you regain your strength?"

I grinned mischievously. "Even a swallow can swim three times, so why can't I rise again? Do you think I'm the Chinese national football team? Come on, let's fight another three hundred rounds."

And so, after a series of caresses, we began our battle again. I wasn't alone, I wasn't fighting alone. For convenience, we moved the battlefield to the bathroom.

That afternoon, Bing'er didn't get up to cook, and I asked the boss for leave because we were both exhausted.

Later, Bing'er and I were together for less than six months before we separated because her family immigrated to Canada, and we only kept in touch on QQ. Bing'er said that if she came back, no matter where I was, she would definitely come to find me.

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The surprise of repairing a computer

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