When I was a sophomore, I met a girl in the library who was from the School of Economics and Management. She was a good-looking person with a naughty personality. Compared to the girls in our engineering class, she was a fairy. We fell in love at first sight.
Because she was so well qualified, the first two dates were stressful. It didn’t matter if I could get her or not (a gentleman is always poor), but my ability to do what I thought I had done for three years was put to a reality check.
The third time I asked her out, I didn’t want to go around in circles. Shopping together, bought some fruit back to school, deep in the woods to sit down to rest, the middle of the words source served, she laughed and said: “mouth bar more and more sweet.”
Seeing that she was happier, I tried to put my arm around her, but rather stupidly, I put my hand on her shoulder – I wasn’t nervous at all at this point, but that’s what good friends do to each other when they’re a little younger. She didn’t move and asked me what I wanted to do about the relationship, and I babbled (and maybe her moving to ask was just a half-hearted contortion) that I was already known for doing the thinking.
She suddenly grabbed my hand tightly, with so much strength, really out of my expectation, the woman’s sexual desire should also be very strong. So my arm also naturally wrapped around her waist, she forked five fingers and my phase entanglement, which immediately reminds me of the third-degree movies I’ve seen (sin sin sin). As if full of enthusiasm, she turned her face against mine, rubbing it against me and murmuring intoxicated sighs.
I should have kissed her, but just couldn’t do it because of years of sexual repression. It’s as if a kind man, who has been pursuing his enemy hard for the sake of a deep hatred, suddenly hands him a knife and tells him to cut off the man’s head, which would be his dream, but for a moment he can’t do it.
There was nothing I could do, so I kept my mouth shut and gave her a few perfunctory touches on the cheek. She kissed my face, and a couple of times the tip of her tongue came out carefully, which made me think that she shouldn’t be a novice anymore.
All in all, it was fun and refreshing, that wonderful evening ……
(ii)
We’d known each other for about a month, and one night we were studying together and had a parting kiss. Both were standing, tongues entwined, bottoms pressed together.
It was very funny, as soon as I was pressed against that amazingly soft spot of hers, I got an instant hard-on underneath. Through the thin pants, she sensed my desire and rubbed her breasts against my chest. This action of hers I didn’t like much at the time, or rather, it made me feel a bit shy, as if it was quite lewd.
Her tongue greedily roamed my mouth, sucking on my saliva. Then it moved to my neck, and in a somewhat amusing way, she plowed every inch of me there as deeply and carefully as a mother cow licking her calf. She did it with a plan until she kissed all over.
I had trouble restraining myself, so I suggested sitting a little longer. We both straddled each other again, and I led her by the hand, not letting her feel my bottom, as I handed my erect, pulsing-with-life root directly into her hand. She shuddered as if she had been electrocuted, but I held down her shaking and somewhat fearful hand.
It was actually very uncomfortable to be gripped by her hand, and since it was the first time, I couldn’t very well teach her the method. I tried to stop forcing her, and her hand first loosened, then insistently grabbed my dong, which had been laughed at as big by my buddies.
The next thing that happened to my surprise was that she unhooked her bra so that I could have direct enough access to caress the two piles of soft flesh that Kwok had praised as soul-restorable graves, things that were as fresh as pigeons.
The thought that in a few years another man would surely get it all rose up in me with a cruel determination to keep kneading the sensitive spot. She drew herself back from my bottoms, her face flushed, and crouched at my thighs, suppressing her moans.
I kneaded her breasts with both hands almost farmer-like, and the harder she could take it, the more accomplished I felt. After a long time, I had enough and reached down to touch her bottom. She yelped in pain and her whole body went limp on the lawn.
She was probably on her period and could obviously feel a tissue pad in there.
(to be continued)