I hate to admit that I had a first love, but if I had to classify it by behavior, H was my first lover. She was with me for five months (three to be exact) of my four lonely young years at that tiny college in the northeast corner of Shanghai.
I don’t think I love H. Because I don’t think it’s real love, at least we don’t have what I consider to be a real heart-to-heart, and I’m guilty of that to the end.
I don’t love her, but I’ve had skin to skin with her.
Then again, she was my first official girlfriend, for which I told my family.
And, as I write this, I don’t have a second girlfriend. I am still alone.
I miss H. Especially when I lie alone in bed at night, I recall the details of our caresses, the moments we had with each other. It allows me to have something worthwhile to pass the time in my lonely, empty, boring days.
It was a dry spell.
Before I met H, of course, I liked some girls, but the sad thing is that all those girls left me whenever I fell deep into the whirlpool of feelings. Before I had a chance to express my true feelings within myself, all those girls rejected me.
When one of the girls later told me why it was all about, she said it was because I never found the right person.
I asked her what about H? She said the same. Of course, that girl ended up denying me. I was told again later that you were never too real, and truth is often cruel.
I think maybe that’s exactly what happened. I take everything too seriously, especially relationships. So what about me and H? All those years of treating girls resulted in only that one time when maybe it wasn’t real.
I remember meeting H at a dance at the University of Aquatic Sciences. At that time, I had already been rejected by the girls many times. As a result, I had a depraved mindset and often hung out in dance clubs both on and off campus.
I’m not bad looking, I’m just a little skinny. Some girls say I’m quite dashing and shapely, but I really don’t feel much for those girls. Maybe it’s because I have too high of an eye.
I still remember the first time I saw H was in the step classroom, she wore a mini skirt and crossed her legs over the table, and they were slightly forked. Those legs were very well-proportioned and beautiful, and with that posture of hers, it made me physically restless. All night long I was thinking about those legs of hers.
To be honest, it was then in the ballroom that I started to seduce H. I wanted to try this, even though my heart was beating so hard. Little did I know that I would succeed the first time, H was attracted to my humor and cunning.
But so far I haven’t tried a second time to behave this way. I know it’s not difficult in this way, but I’m not willing to treat men and women in this way because I still believe in heart to heart resonance.
It was a rare opportunity, and I was brave enough to ask her out for a dance one weekend night.
On the first date I only held her hand, on the second date I put my arm around her shoulder, and on the third I wrapped my arms around her waist. That night I took her to hide inside a dark corner of the campus that no one knew about, and I undressed her upper body, and I fondled her breasts, over and over again. Then I slid my hand down, and she didn’t resist. But when I tried to stick my fingers in, she clenched her legs. She told me that she didn’t want to play around anymore and that she wanted me to be serious. At that point I was certainly serious, I was serious about experiencing this feeling that I had never experienced before.
She loosened her clenched legs and my finger skimmed over her wet land before plunging in between those two petals. It felt easy to thrust in, not the least bit tense, and I suspected she wasn’t a virgin. I didn’t care much though, it’s these days. Besides, I was just experiencing a feeling I’d never experienced before.
Her inside there was slowly becoming lubricated by the thrusting and pumping of my fingers.
After the first time, there was bound to be a second, and she didn’t say no much the second time. We were still hiding inside that corner that no one knew about. And my fingers were much more flexible. This time, my fingers penetrated so deep that I even touched her womb, she let out a pretty aroused moan, and my desires rose high for that. I told her I wanted to do that and she said no; but I insisted that I did and she still said no. She said she had a year to go before she graduated and didn’t want to get into anything, and I said that was true, or else neither she nor I would be in any good shape, and the school was pretty strict about that.
I said to her, “Then help me. She asked how I could help, and then she put her hand inside my pants and stroked it.
I said to help with my mouth, and at first she was reluctant to do so. But finally, after I begged (men always seem so low at this point), she slid down and I undid my pants chain, then she gently took it in her mouth, but then quickly spit it out. I think it must have been her first time and she felt uncomfortable. But she must not have known that I had watched many pornographic tapes and had been familiar with this behavior for a long time, even though it was my first time too.
Then I gently grabbed her hair and pressed her head under my belly, and she took it in her mouth as I gently pumped it in and out. The sensation was wonderful, like a surge of electricity swiftly coursing through her entire body. She took it gently, sucking rhythmically back and forth, and as I lowered my head and watched her move underneath me, I felt relief, I felt that for the first time in many years, an incredibly wet, manna-like moistness had nourished my own parched limbs and soul. Moreover, that kind of tight attraction, like to attract and release all the loneliness and confusion, loneliness and restlessness, tenderness and wildness in my body in this way.
Halfway through, she suddenly looked up at me with a pleading gaze and said, “Don’t get it in my mouth, okay?” So for the first time, I looked at her with a tenderness I’ve rarely seen in myself and said, “Of course.”
Quickly, I said to her, “It’s coming out.” She spit it out of her mouth and I got it all over her clothes.
A sense of release that I had never felt before passed through my entire body and I felt paralyzed. My breathing became powerless.
I held her close and kissed her passionately after I had cleaned her clothes, I was so hungry, I bit her tongue every now and then as her tongue probed and searched my mouth. She cried out in pain, so I kissed her from her lips to her cheeks, and from her cheeks to her neck, her hair, her chest, her lightly unshirted, half-exposed breasts. Her breasts were not very large, but under the kneading and caressing of my palms, they continued to swell, the two nipples becoming more and more erect and hard.
She reciprocated with equal fervor, she kissed me on the lips, on my unshaven chin, she pecked my cheeks like a little bird, our saliva mingled with each other, our bodies embraced each other, we breathed in the same air, the air was the scent of her and my common youthful dryness, and our souls reached a resonance in that moment through this primitive body language One year later, H, I want to say to you that you are the first woman who gave me such an amazing feeling, whether it was the love that we had for each other during that period of time, whether it was the ugly and despicable thoughts in our souls that guided our behavior or not, I just want to say to you, “Thank you, you’ve made me grow up. “
In the days to come, the weather got colder and colder, and we were less inclined to take walks around the campus in the cool of the night or hide in that corner where no one knew we were having fun. We hid in unoccupied classrooms or played so-and-so again and again when no one was in our dorm rooms.
I was afraid that it would make H pregnant, so every time she helped me with her mouth and I helped her with my hands. Only once when I was in the dorm room, I turned off the light and removed her pants. I penetrated her for the first time, and my heart panicked so much that I was afraid my roommate would burst in, and even more so that I wouldn’t be able to control it and get inside her. I pumped not more than a few times, and then retreated in a panic, I said, “It’s better if you help me with your mouth.” So she lay down under me and sucked, I told her to hard, she was hard, she also kept changing the angle, with her tongue, lips, again and again to satisfy my young hunger.
Then I stood up and grabbed her by the hair and pumped hard into her mouth, my motions were strong and rough, she almost choked on my so agitated movements, her gasps became labored as I sent it deep into her mouth again and again, even up to her throat. At the last moment I pulled out of her mouth and cum uncontrollably. She, in turn, leaned over and dry-heaved for a while.
Then I carried her to bed for another long, passionate kiss. My fingers plunged inside her, harder and harder, and her face was filled with a look of pain and joy as a guttural moan of pleasure escaped her lips.
I even inserted three or four fingers together and drilled hard. She was in pain, and with tears in her eyes asked me why I was so cruel to her, and I buried my head in her arms and apologized, saying, “I’m sorry.”
She said she wanted to marry me in the future, I said no, I will find you a better man. She said: “You make me down there are like this, how can I marry someone else?” I was speechless. I saw my fingers stained with blood from her lower body.
I once in her arms secretly shed tears, then I feel sad and confused about the future, I said to her: “I’m afraid of tomorrow, I do not know what will happen tomorrow.” I said: “Do not marry a man like me, if you are willing, there really is a day in the future, I will go to your farms in the Great Northern Wilderness, and you sit together on the ridge to see the endless golden waves of wheat. I will write my life’s novel there.”
She looked at me with a strange expression that was hard to understand, and said that I was quite a strange thinker sometimes.
She didn’t ask me to marry her much after that, because we both knew that after graduation we were irresistibly separated, and whether we wanted to or not, we had to submit to the arrangements of the school and society. Our destiny was in someone else’s hands. But we still played this game secretly in our stolen moments.
I proposed to break up with her just before graduation, and even though she once told me she wanted to marry me and that she loved me, I always seemed to be less than convinced that it was the truth. Maybe it was because I was too demanding of love that I always looked bored with her, but I don’t know if she put up with me on purpose by pretending not to know, or if she just didn’t feel much of anything at all, she didn’t seem to care very much, but she did get a little mad at me sometimes. I think she and I have different aspirations.
She wrote me two long letters after the breakup, and I didn’t feel much of anything. At that time, my spirit seemed to have completely died, I was in a trance all day long, drinking and smoking with my friends, talking about the disappointment and uncertainty of life, the confusion and sorrow of love, and more importantly, we were about to graduate, and after graduation, we would no longer have such a young time. We have all become adults, and we must bear all the trivialities and mugginess of life, and we must fight against the world and be a man.
Now, I have been working for a year, and the bitterness in between is only savored by myself.
I didn’t go back to trying to find a girl like H to hang out with because I didn’t want to, and I was still looking for true love. But I was still denied many times by other girls, including a girl from a foreign land who had been missing me silently for years.
When I learned that she was so deeply in love with me, I felt that I had finally found true love, I said to the girl in a foreign land: “Marry me, because I have finally found you.” I said to her: “Come to me, even if it’s hard, I’m willing.” But she hesitated, she did not continue the dream of her girlhood, she obeyed the order of her parents.
So I began to doubt the reality of love, so I remained alone.
But I must have my own way of life, listen to rock music, play tennis, play computer, or go shopping on the street with my bachelor friends, drink, smoke, chat, talk about ideals, life, and pursuits together.
But ideals are constantly being dashed, life keeps giving you problems, and pursuits keep turning into beliefs about money.
Only in the dead of night, lying alone under the covers to remember the past. H and those days together, although I have not been able to get rid of my innate bone sadness, but in this kind of superficial happiness I did forget something, at least in that short period of time is no longer empty and loneliness and boredom, and now always feel that there is something missing in life.
Actually, there should be a woman missing, so I miss H from time to time and the joy she brought me.
I miss those days of love, when we went to the cafeteria every day to eat together and she washed the dishes; when we walked around the campus every day and she snuggled in my arms; when we went to the library every day for self-study and she took my seat. Or when we had sex in the dark in a deserted place, she helped me with her mouth and I helped her with my hands; or when we danced in the playground under the moonlight, and I spun around with her…
I think if I ever meet H again, I’ll tell her how much I miss her now. Maybe, I won’t ask too much for love anymore.