Factory Memories Part 2: Her Fellow Employee

When I first started working, I was assigned to a chemical plant that produced synthetic ammonia. My position was the main carbonization operator, located on the third floor. There was also an analyst in the same position, who was female. There were only the two of us on the entire third floor. On the second floor, there were several machines operated by two or three female workers, and on the first floor, there were two male workers.
At that time, we worked night shifts, a four-shift, three-rotation system: one shift from midnight to 8 a.m., one from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., and one from 4 p.m. to midnight. During the daytime work hours, there was a lot of activity from workshop managers, but during the night shift, apart from the occasional dispatcher or shift leader making an inspection, there was almost no one around. The work was easy, and with men and women working together, the work wasn't strenuous, and an ambiguous relationship gradually developed at night.
Luckily, the analyst assigned to me was very beautiful, not tall but very delicate, two years younger than me, and also newly married. My initial attraction probably started with how I took care of her. Sleeping wasn't allowed on the factory's night shift; not even a short nap was permitted. The shift leader, dispatcher, and duty officer would come to check. Women have many things to do during the day—housework, dealing with men, etc.—so they inevitably get sleepy at night. I often let her out of the way, letting her nap briefly at her workbench. As for work, I avoided the half-hourly analytical tests whenever possible; if I was unsure, I would do it myself.
Once feelings developed, flirting became a natural next step. To fill the long nights, she brought yarn from home to knit, and I would often read to her while she knitted. Of course, it was pornographic books from the streets. Later, our verbal communication gradually deepened into sexual matters. In moments of passion, she would tell me if she had made love with her husband that day. Then came body language. Touching her breasts became commonplace. Occasionally, I would touch her buttocks and vulva. For a while, she said she had a vaginal infection and had gotten some suppositories from the clinic during the day, which needed to be changed at night. It required inserting a finger deep into her vagina, which was inconvenient for her, so it was time for me to show off my skills. With her consent, I had her sit in the chair. I pulled her pants and underwear down to her thighs, but she couldn't open her legs completely, so I had to pull them down to her calves. I squatted down, opened her thighs, used two fingers of my left hand to separate her labia, and inserted the suppository into her vagina with my right hand. Then, using my longest middle finger, I pushed the suppository as deep as possible. I then pulled her pants back up. That completed the whole process.
The woman's genitals were fair and tender, with sparse, curly pubic hair that wasn't very dark. Her labia were pink, and her clitoris was small and not prominent. Even after a few seemingly accidental touches, her body reacted, trembling slightly. Because her fingers were too thin, she couldn't feel the tightness of her vagina. When she withdrew her fingers, she smelled them; the scent was a mixture of medicine and a faint, slightly musky odor.
After inserting the medication, the woman shouldn't move around too much. I stood up and stood behind her, reaching my hands inside her neckline to grab and fondle her breasts for a long time.
Once, she was so tired that she went outside to sleep in a dark spot on the operating platform. After she fell asleep, I lay on top of her, but she kicked me away, saying, "Go get some fresh air."
The "veteran driver" hadn't yet practiced his skills and was too timid to actually penetrate her on the job. He also never considered going to a hotel room or anything like that. So, they never had real sexual intercourse.
But our feelings for each other deepened over time. Once, her husband went on a business trip and brought her a delicate keychain and some jewelry. I was jealous, and my face darkened. She got angry too and threw the item from the third-floor operating platform into the coal yard outside the wall. She didn't speak to me for a week; we acted like children playing house.
We were together for over a year, then our positions were changed, and we stopped working together. Then, I was reassigned to daytime shifts, and she was transferred to another workshop for daytime shifts. When I was working in process management in the workshop, I had my own desk in the office. Under the glass top of that desk, there was always a pink rope knot, a gift from her.
Later, her husband passed away from illness. Then, it was said she considered remarrying, but her teenage son strongly opposed it, and she didn't go through with it. Then still later, it was said she had an affair with the director of some credit union in the county town, and his wife found out, causing a huge scandal. And then, finally, she disappeared into the vast sea of people…

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Factory Memories Part 2: Her Fellow Employee

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