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It was an ordinary Tuesday morning. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting sharp lines across the room. The silence was shattered by my ringtone, and “Yi-ting” flashed across the screen.
“Hey, it’s me.”
Her voice came through—weary, yet still carrying that familiar softness. Yi-ting had been my college classmate; now she was an HR executive at a semiconductor firm in the Tainan Science Park.
“Yi-ting, it’s been a long time.” I set down my coffee, my voice steady and composed as always.
“It really has. I’m actually in Taipei today for a meeting at the head office. We just wrapped up.”
“That’s perfect. Lunch?” I offered out of habit.
“Lunch is tough—I’ve still got things to tie up this afternoon. But… are you free tonight? To catch up?” There was a faint trace of anticipation in her tone.
“Of course,” I replied without hesitation. “What are you craving? Chinese, Japanese, Western?”
“Anything is fine. You know I’m not picky. I just want to talk to you.”
“Consider it handled.”
After hanging up, I called a restaurant manager I knew and secured a last-minute table at A Joy in Taipei 101. Known for its exquisite cuisine and breathtaking views, it’s usually impossible to book on short notice, but connections have their perks. A refined, spacious environment felt like the perfect setting for two old friends reconnecting after years apart.
Yi-ting arrived right on time for dinner, dressed in a sharp professional suit. She looked a little worn from the long day, but her refined features and elegant aura were as striking as ever.
She smiled the moment she saw me.
“How are you still so… extra?”
“Extra how?”
She looked me up and down, her eyes lingering. “That physique. You were already living in the gym in college, but now? You look like a silver fox straight out of a movie.”
I chuckled, holding the elevator door for her. “You haven’t changed either.”
“Liar.”
“I mean it.”
She met my gaze, and for a split second, the air between us felt charged. Her perfume was subtle—barely there—but utterly intoxicating.
Dinner was even better than I expected. We bridged the years—from college memories to the tech industry, marriage, work stress, and the separate lives we had built. A few glasses of red wine brought a soft pink flush to her cheeks.
“I actually envy you,” she whispered, leaning back in her seat.
“Envy me for what?”
“Your freedom.”
I studied her carefully. “Marriage isn’t free?”
She was quiet for a moment, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. “Sometimes it’s just… a habit.”
Outside the window, all of Taipei glittered like a galaxy suspended in the night. But her eyes were far more captivating than the view.
The conversation flowed so naturally that time slipped away. We had planned to leave by nine, but when we finally checked the clock, it was already 9:30 PM and the restaurant was starting to empty.
She glanced at her phone and frowned. “Damn…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to miss the last southbound HSR from Nangang back to Tainan.”
I checked the time. With evening traffic, there was no way she’d make it.
She sighed softly. “Looks like I’ll have to find a hotel.”
I paused for a beat, then spoke in a low voice. “If you don’t mind, you can stay at my place.”
Yi-ting hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Then… I’ll trouble you for the night.”
It was nearly eleven by the time we reached my apartment. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, staring out at the endless sea of midnight lights.
“Taipei really never sleeps…”
“The nights here are longer than you think.”
I pulled a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. “A drink?”
“Just a little.”
When she took the glass, our fingers brushed. She didn’t pull away immediately. Her breathing had shifted—heavier, expectant.
As the amber liquid burned a trail of warmth down her throat, she stared at the glow in her glass. The wedding band on her left hand suddenly felt unbearably heavy, a cold reminder of the predictable life waiting for her in Tainan. Yet the potent mix of vintage wine from dinner and this sharp whiskey was dissolving every defense she had spent years building. For one night, she decided to let the faithful wife disappear and allow the woman inside her to finally breathe.
“I’ll… use the shower first,” she murmured, her voice laced with a subtle, smoky courage that wasn’t there before.
The bathroom door finally opened, releasing a wave of warm steam scented with her body wash. I turned and felt my pulse spike. Yi-ting’s long black hair hung damp and heavy over her pale shoulders. Water droplets traced slow paths down her neck and disappeared into the edge of the thick white towel she clutched to her chest. The fabric was pulled tight, biting into her full, lush breasts and creating a deep, breathtaking cleavage. She stood barefoot on the cool floor, legs slightly crossed, skin glowing with a fresh post-shower flush. Her eyes held both shyness and unmistakable hunger.
I crossed the room slowly and backed her toward the bed. Her damp hair fanned out across the pillow like dark silk when she lay down. I slid a hand along her waist, feeling the soft, resilient warmth beneath the towel. She shivered but didn’t resist. Instead, she lifted her gaze to mine—bashful yet burning with need.
“Yi-ting…” I growled her name, my voice rough with desire.
Our mouths met in a deep, searching kiss that quickly turned fierce and desperate. Her cool lips warmed instantly under mine. Her hands climbed my shoulders, nails grazing lightly down my back. I kissed along her jaw, then down the column of her throat, tasting the clean salt of her skin. She arched beneath me with a soft sigh.
I peeled the towel away slowly, revealing her body in the low light. My hands explored her reverently—neck, shoulders, the swell of her breasts. I cupped their heavy weight, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks until she moaned. I lowered my head and took one into my mouth, sucking gently while my hand continued its journey lower.
She gasped when my fingers found her slick heat. I stroked her slowly at first, circling, teasing, feeling her grow wetter under my touch. Then I moved lower, settling between her thighs. My tongue traced slow, deliberate circles around her most sensitive spot before pressing with firm, rhythmic pressure exactly where she needed it. Yi-ting’s hips jerked. A sharp gasp escaped her lips.
I slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward while my tongue never stopped its relentless attention. Her breathing turned ragged. Her thighs trembled around my head. She reached down, fingers threading through my hair, guiding me, urging me on. Within minutes her entire body tensed. Her back arched high off the bed as a powerful orgasm crashed through her. She cried out, her inner walls pulsing hard around my fingers, waves of pleasure flooding her.
I stayed with her through every shudder, gently licking and kissing until the tremors eased. Only then did I rise. I flipped her over onto her stomach and pulled her hips up. She looked back at me over her shoulder, eyes hazy with pleasure, and pushed back slightly—an invitation.
I gripped her waist and pressed forward, sinking deep into her still-trembling heat in one smooth, powerful thrust. She moaned into the pillow, the sound muffled but full of satisfaction. I didn’t hold back. I took her hard and deep, each stroke controlled yet intense. The wet, rhythmic sound of our bodies meeting filled the room.
I reached around to stroke her again while I moved. She met every thrust, pushing back to take me deeper. Her inner muscles fluttered and tightened once more. I could feel her climbing again. I gripped her hips harder, angling to hit that perfect spot inside her with every drive.
When her second orgasm hit, her body clamped down around me like a velvet fist. She cried out again, louder this time, her whole frame shaking. The sensation pushed me over the edge. I buried myself to the hilt and came with a low, guttural groan. Thick, scalding pulses flooded deep inside her as her body milked me greedily through every wave.
We stayed locked together, breathing hard, her body still trembling around me. I leaned down and pressed soft kisses along her spine, murmuring her name.
In the quiet afterglow, Yi-ting buried her face in my shoulder, her voice husky and spent. “I thought I was too old to lose control like that.” I chuckled softly, tracing my fingers down her spine. “You’ve just been in the south too long. Taipei nights have their own kind of magic.”
I carried her to the bathroom. Warm water washed away the sweat and scent of passion, cooling our fevered skin and slowly returning us to reality.
The next morning, I put on a well-tailored casual suit. Last night already felt like a vivid dream, its lingering warmth slowly evaporating as the morning light took over. Yi-ting had dressed in yesterday’s suit, now neatly straightened, her professional HR facade back in place. Only the soft glow in her eyes betrayed what we had shared. She stood by the window, watching the city slowly wake under a gray dawn.
“Let’s go. I’ll drop you at Nangang,” I said, grabbing my keys, my voice returning to its usual steady rhythm. She turned, her gaze complex—gratitude, lingering attachment, and quiet secrecy. The 5 a.m. streets were empty, the tires humming against asphalt. I kept my eyes on the road, driving steadily through the quiet, fading night.
We reached Nangang HSR station just after six. The cold fluorescent lights washed away any remaining romance. I pulled over. Yi-ting unbuckled, hesitated, then leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek—a completely different kiss from the night before. A goodbye kiss.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “When I get back to Tainan… I’ll pretend none of this happened.”
I nodded, watching her pull her suitcase into the station until the automatic doors swallowed her completely.