The Growing Years of a Post-80s Woman's Desire (Female, Personal Experience) - Part 23

That evening, my godfather received a phone call saying he had something to do and couldn't spend the night with me. He gave me a comforting kiss and then left.
I could sense that he was happy. A previous comment suggested he went a bit too far.
Now, looking back, from a third-person perspective, everyone is selfish. My godfather probably did this because he didn't want me to be taken away from him.
Sitting alone at home, the scenes from before flashed through my mind, and my mood grew increasingly irritable.
I took off my clothes, went into the bathroom, turned the water to cold, and took a cold shower.
Looking at myself in the mirror, at my once-proud figure, I felt a pang of disgust. It's all because of you, all because of you that I've become like this.
After the shower, I suddenly felt restless and uneasy. I got dressed, tidied myself up quickly, and left the house. Walking down the street, I looked at the names in my phone's contact list.
I didn't know who to confide in. Suddenly, I inexplicably wanted to drink. I hailed a taxi and went to my usual bar.
The beer went down, but the burning irritation wouldn't dissipate. In the dim light, the dance floor was packed with people, flashing cameras and blaring music.
A man approached and sat down next to me: "Hey beautiful, all alone?"
I'd seen plenty of these flirtatious guys, and I had no interest in paying them any attention. "Sorry, I'm waiting for my boyfriend."
Usually, as long as you make it clear you're not alone, they'll politely leave. The man smiled and got up.
I picked up my phone, thought for a moment, and then sent a message to my boyfriend.
Me: What are you doing?
Boyfriend: Nothing.
Me: I'm drinking, wanna come over?
Boyfriend: Heh, not spending time with your sugar daddy anymore?
Me: Wanna come over? I'm alone, let's talk!
Boyfriend: Sorry, I don't think it's necessary.
Me: Heh, you said you loved me, you said you could accept it.
Boyfriend: Sorry, I overestimated myself...
(A lot of rambling omitted, but the gist is he can't accept it and wants to give up on the relationship.)
We chatted for about half an hour, and I knew it was over.
Just then, the man who had approached me earlier came over and sat next to me.
He smiled and said, "Beautiful lady, I've been watching you. You seem very unhappy. I guess you had a fight with your boyfriend?"
I was taken aback. He actually figured it out! Perhaps he was too close to the situation to see it clearly. A girl drinking alone here, looking so down—it's easy to guess what's going on.
Seeing my expression, he seemed certain of his suspicions. We clinked bottles and drank.
It was too noisy, so he suggested we chat on our phones. We added each other on QQ, and sitting face-to-face, we chatted via text messages. It suddenly felt quite interesting.
Gradually, he led the conversation in a different direction, while I remained oblivious. We drank and chatted.
A sentimental dance song started playing, and suddenly, the man grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor.
He placed my hand on his shoulder, then put his arm around my waist, and we started dancing.
There were many people around, mostly couples.
The faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, mixed with his masculine scent, combined with the stimulation of alcohol and the soothing music, calmed me down considerably.
His hand, which had been resting on my waist, circled my back a few times before slowly moving upwards and slipping inside. For some
reason, I didn't resist. The worst part was, I'd forgotten to wear a bra when I came out.
He paused, not finding his bra, and looked at me. I quickly looked away, my breathing suddenly becoming rapid.
I wanted to leave, but the place was crowded, and the music wasn't over yet. Forcing my way out now would be impolite! While
I was still lost in thought, his hand had already moved to my chest, gripping it tightly. My breasts bounced and swayed with the rhythm of the music.
I let out a comfortable groan, resting my head lazily on his shoulder, my feet moving lightly with his.
At the same time, his other hand slowly slid down from my waist, slipping inside my skirt and grasping my buttocks.
Good heavens! I wasn't even wearing underwear! He seemed a little surprised, his fingers reaching towards my crotch; perhaps he thought I was wearing a thong! Unfortunately, he found nothing.
His hand, hidden under my skirt, sometimes slid up and down my thighs, sometimes caressing my inner thighs, then moving from the inside to the outside, but never touching my private parts.
I cursed inwardly, "Couldn't you go a little further?" Unconsciously, I felt a tingling, itchy discomfort in my genitals.
Suddenly, he whispered in my ear, "You're the sexiest woman I've ever met."
Hearing this, I got a little angry, pressing my genitals against his groin, rubbing back and forth. I looked up at him and said, "I can be even sexier."
Perhaps stimulated by my words, I clearly felt his penis become even harder.
But I'd lost interest. I gently pushed him away, straightened my clothes, and the music stopped. I returned to my seat, and he excitedly followed.
I sat down to drink, and he smiled at me, sending a message: "Hey beautiful, ever played any exciting games?"
I knew exactly what he meant, thinking, "The games I've played, you've probably never even heard of."
Me: "What games?"
Man: "How about we go to the restroom?"
Me: "No way."
The man probably thought I was a coward.
Man: "It's really exciting, really. I'll pretend I'm drunk, you can help me to the toilet, no one will mind."
Yes, actually, this kind of thing is very common here. Men going into the women's restroom might get scratched or be breaking the law, but it's perfectly normal for women to go into the men's restroom.
Of course, I wouldn't go with him. I thought of my boyfriend, and I sent him a message: "I'm drunk, can you come pick me up?"
Boyfriend: "Have your sugar daddy pick you up, I'm already in bed.
" Me: "I'm at our usual spot, near your house."
Yes, I don't know why I came here. This is a place he used to bring me to often; it's close to where he lives.
Boyfriend: Stop drinking. It's not safe for you to be alone. Take a taxi home!
I took a deep breath: Are you coming or not? If you don't come, I'll find a man here to fuck me.
Boyfriend: How can you be so shameless? You really disappoint me...
Me: Think what you want. I'm going to find a man right now and let him fuck me. Come or not, it's up to you.
After sending the message, I downed half a bottle of beer. The man across from me looked at me expectantly, waiting for my reply.
Just then, my boyfriend messaged: "Stop fooling around, go back, be good!"
I slammed my hand on the table, startling the man. I stood up and looked at him; he excitedly got up and pulled me by the hand towards the restroom.
When we were almost at the restroom, I took out my phone and snapped a picture of the restroom and the man in front of me, then sent the picture to my boyfriend.
The man grabbed me, pretending to be drunk, and walked into the men's restroom...

PS: I accept all comments and different opinions, except for those self-righteous individuals.
In matters of the heart, I don't believe there's a right or wrong. Women are emotional, not rational. Don't try to reason with me; when you try to reason with me, you've already lost!

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The Growing Years of a Post-80s Woman's Desire (Female, Personal Experience) - Part 23

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