I often drive my car and wait outside the women's prison for women who have just been released. Those who have no friends or family to pick them up, and who aren't bad-looking, are my prey. Just a little kindness, and they throw themselves into my arms like they've grabbed a life-saving straw. 1 A woman stood at the gate of the women's prison. Fair skin, exquisite face. Even plain clothes couldn't hide her graceful curves. Through the car window, my eyes greedily scanned her body. A gust of cold wind blew, and the woman hunched her shoulders like a quail. A ball of heat suddenly erupted in my lower abdomen. I hesitated no longer, started the car, and drove up to her. Rolling down the window, I revealed a standard smile. "Hello, I'm a volunteer dedicated to helping people released from prison reintegrate into society." "Do you need any help?" I handed over a business card with my name printed on a red heart. Social Welfare Volunteer: Sean Carter. The woman took the card, her guarded expression fading considerably. She hesitated for a moment, then opened the car door and got in. A scent of body fragrance mixed with laundry detergent hit my face, making me restless inside. The fish has taken the bait. 2 Chatting along the way, I learned the woman's name. Harper Stone, 24 years old. Sentenced to five years for acting as a guarantor for someone. I sneered inwardly, confirming my guess. Women with such good looks usually go in for fraud or guaranteeing for others. After release, parents cut ties, friends and relatives stay away. Long-term prison life disconnects them from society, leaving them in a state of confusion and loss. I am the only person showing kindness to her, and also a life-saving straw. That's why she got into my car so easily. Such women are easily conquered with just a little kindness. Harper is the fourth woman to get into my car, and the most beautiful one I've ever picked up. Thinking of how she would look in bed, I felt like ants were crawling all over my body, itching unbearably. Harper didn't talk much. When I made some witty jokes, she would cover her mouth and smile at me. Her large, watery eyes held a clarity isolated from the world. I parked the car in front of a restaurant and treated Harper to a meal. Standard Southern cuisine, costing less than a hundred bucks for two. Harper ate very slowly and carefully. If any food accidentally fell on the table, she would pick it up and put it in her mouth. I lit a cigarette and watched her with a smile. Basically, the first meal for everyone just out of prison is like this. Only after being in prison do you know how precious life outside is. Therefore, these women basically don't want to go back in after getting out. Based on this, even if I use rough methods, they won't think of calling the police. After eating, it was already dark. I invited Harper to stay at my place for the night and continue helping her get familiar with the social environment tomorrow. Harper agreed. 3 I live in Spring Garden. Although the name is poetic, it is an old resettlement community. But for Harper, this is already a good environment. In fact, putting aside the fake identity of a social welfare volunteer, I am trash at the bottom of society. No money, too lazy to work, the only valuable thing on me is that broken car about my age. Not tall, not handsome. Someone like me struggles even to find a girlfriend. But through this path, I can sleep with many women with good looks and figures. If Harper hadn't been to prison, I believe she wouldn't even look at me on the street. But now she not only got into my broken car but also followed me back to this old rental. I have ways to make her actively climb into my bed, and even make her wag her tail and beg for mercy like a bitch. 4 The corridor was dirty and dim, with old sensor lights emitting a faint yellow glow. Just as I was about to open the door to my rental, a dark shadow lunged at Harper from the corner. Harper screamed, her pant leg torn to shreds by a brown poodle. She hid behind me. I kicked the poodle away, shouting to drive it off. The poodle wasn't afraid of me at all; instead, it bared its teeth and barked at me. Heavy footsteps sounded, and an old woman with noodle-like hair rushed up from downstairs in a few steps. Her triangular eyes glanced at me, and she opened her scarlet lips to curse: "Dare to kick my son? Believe it or not, I'll make you get out right now?" The woman's name is Brenda, my landlady. I dare not contradict her. If I leave here, I can't find a cheaper place. With a smile on my face, I apologized to her. "Brenda, I wouldn't dare kick your Coco." "It's just better if you keep it locked up, otherwise it wouldn't be good if it bites someone..." Brenda pointed at me, interrupting my words with spittle flying. "If it bites someone, I'll pay!" "If you dare touch a hair on my precious son, I'll take your life!" Her eyes rolled over Harper, and she spat fiercely on the ground. "Don't bring such shady women back in the future. I'm afraid of dirtying my house." "Looks like a slut..." Brenda hugged Coco into her arms and walked away twisting her hips. I smiled apologetically at Harper and led her into the room. Although this community is dilapidated, I put some effort into the room. Wallpapered, installed ambient lights, and laid carpets on the floor. I found a set of pajamas for Harper and pointed to another room. "You go take a shower first to wash away the bad luck. Sleep there tonight." Harper thanked me and went into the bathroom with the clothes. I lit scented candles, dimmed the lights, turned on the speaker, and played a lyrical English song. Poured two glasses of champagne, quietly waiting for Harper to come out. Being human means having needs. After staying in prison for so long, many women have no resistance to this atmosphere. In a tipsy state, they will soon throw themselves into my arms. This trick has never failed me, and I believe it will be the same for Harper. Soon, the bathroom door opened. Harper, fresh from the shower, made my eyes straighten. This set of pajamas was carefully selected by me. Fitting, silky, perfectly showing off Harper's wonderful curves. Under the dim light, her skin was still dazzlingly white. Harper sat next to me, smiling shyly at me. Scented candles, shampoo, mixed with Harper's unique scent, made my whole person almost burn. I raised my glass to her: "Congratulations on your upcoming brand new life!" Harper's eyes were sparkling, and she drank the wine in the glass in one gulp. After three rounds of drinks, I found the right opportunity and slowly moved closer to Harper. The moment our arm skin touched, I trembled all over. I reached out and hugged Harper's shoulder, looked into her eyes, and slowly pressed my lips towards hers. But I didn't expect Harper to push me away. Her cheeks were flushed, covering her face and running into the room. I cursed inwardly and punched the sofa hard. At night, lying in bed, I couldn't sleep. Harper's face, figure, and scent were like a slide show, constantly looping in my mind. This dish, Harper, with all its color, aroma, and taste, I must taste it thoroughly.
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