A girl's sex story

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

I washed my hands, changed into my loungewear, sat at the table, and added my favorite rose essential oil to the aromatherapy diffuser. The fragrance filled the air. Okay, now, my story begins. In every woman's story, there is always a man, perhaps more than one. The people and events she experiences shape a woman into a full and radiant figure. If she is a woman with great potential, this shaping process becomes full of artistry. Time is like a spiritual hand, caressing through a woman's experiences, and in the end, a restrained yet elegant work of art emerges. Now, my husband is leaning back on the sofa, pouting and calling to me affectionately. I like this kind of calling. He always calls me baby, sweetie, or little pig, and sometimes he even calls me "Zizi Tuo" in our dialect—very affectionate terms. I like it; men also have the right to be affectionate. Sometimes, filled with gratitude, I wonder how I ended up with him, and how five years have passed in the blink of an eye. Lying in his arms at night, I think about the day we met and all the little things we experienced together. I can vividly describe everything about him back then—his eyes, his clothes, even the smallest details. He would stare at me with wide, surprised eyes, and I would tap his nose and say, "Be careful, I hold grudges." Before him, I had been with two other men. He knew that. When we got married, he didn't ask if I was a virgin. Even though he was a virgin at the time, his familiarity with showing me porn meant he already knew about these things; I definitely hadn't lied to him. He did say once, "There are some things I don't care about, really." I believed his sincerity then, and I knew he was referring to this incident. I didn't feel sorry for him. I felt I had finally met the right person at the right time. The past was just experience; no one can predict the future. I couldn't, and I certainly couldn't when I was younger. Sexual exclusivity follows love. First comes the exclusivity of love, then the exclusivity of sex. When love and sex are unified, sex is a part of love. Let's start from university, where I first experienced love and sex. It was at a prestigious university in northern China. When I was in university, the atmosphere was already quite open. Students could openly date. Although cohabitation wasn't as common as it is now, a large proportion of those in relationships had engaged in sexual activity—it was an open secret. It wasn't that they weren't innocent; many students believed they would be with the person they loved in the future, that it was just a process. Add to that the mystery and physical maturity, and such a process was predictable. I was a relatively late bloomer. I didn't have any early romances. It wasn't that no one liked me; besides, in junior and senior high school, people's aesthetic standards weren't as individualistic as they are now. Generally, people preferred girls who were academically gifted and well-behaved. I was relatively lucky; I was pursued by a few boys and secretly liked older boys, but my upbringing prevented me from openly pursuing them. I ignored others' advances, though my feelings stirred, I wouldn't let them surface. Because I matured late, I had virtually no experience by the time I got to university. When my college classmates had late-night talks about boys, they were always enthusiastic, but they never mentioned the one they liked. They only listened to others' discussions. Every time his name reached my ears, it was like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. I don't know how I could remain calm after being shocked so many times. From this, I can conclude that the restraint I showed in suppressing my own thoughts and my composure in high school played a huge role in this. My first love happened in college, and he took everything from me as a girl. He was a classmate, not outstanding, and I didn't notice him at first. He wasn't particularly outgoing, nor was he my type. Everyone was quiet during freshman year. However, the dorm leader, who claimed she would never find a boyfriend in college, started dating the athletic student from a wealthy family in the first semester. One day, she went on a date, telling us she went to her relative's house. She didn't return until 9 pm, causing the whole dorm to go out and look for her. They saw her returning hand in hand with that boy. That's when I realized she was incredibly hypocritical. I never liked her. During my freshman year, my active participation in student union activities and military training quickly earned me a place in the student union's publicity department. At that time, I had many crushes. A girl named Lei from the foreign languages department was my best friend; she was the kind of beautiful woman with an irresistible aura, the kind who would turn heads. Even when she admitted to liking a certain male teacher, a certain boy from a certain department, and frankly admitted she could like several boys at the same time, I never shared my feelings with her. I kept my mouth shut. In my sophomore year, my first love, let's call him Cheng, began pursuing me. Initially, it was his fellow townsman who openly pursued me. His fellow townsman was handsome, just a year younger than us, but a year older than Cheng. At a classmate's birthday party in sophomore year, his fellow townsman also attended. From the bright look in his eyes that day, even a fool could read the meaning. Later, Cheng's fellow townsman asked Cheng for concert tickets, and he gave me two, which Cheng and I went to see. From that day on, Cheng started paying attention to me and began his relentless pursuit. Actually, Cheng is a very humorous person, the kind with a dry sense of humor. Occasionally, he'd say something that would make someone laugh for ages. My ideal love is mutual; I especially hope that one day, a boy I like will declare his love for me—a declaration so grand it's earth-shattering. I'd agree without hesitation, even skipping the thought of such reserved words. But after waiting so long, it was Cheng who said it. I wasn't satisfied, so I directly rejected him. Cheng didn't give up. He used every possible opportunity to get close to me: saving me a seat, buying me Dove chocolates, sending flowers for my birthday, taking me to movies, barbecues—he did everything he could. Here's a reminder to parents with college kids: if his spending noticeably increases, he's definitely in a relationship. To paraphrase a ready-made saying: it's like carrying a block of ice in your heart...It's been so long, but it's warmed up. As the guys I liked gradually got girlfriends, and those without girlfriends continued their lukewarm relationships, I started paying more attention to Cheng. A person's good qualities are discovered over time; the more I got to know him, the better I realized he was a really nice person, especially towards me. One time, while we were watching a movie (it's my fault!), his hand wandered inside my clothes. I firmly pulled it out, but my heart was pounding. On the way back after the movie, he kissed me. The feeling was truly shocking. Cheng is 1.78 meters tall, looks a bit like Tony Leung, and has a slightly mischievous smile. His lips were soft and warm; the moment he kissed me, I felt my heart stop. And then, his hand continued inside my bra, completing what it hadn't done in the movie theater. I felt like I was melting under his touch. Back in my dorm, I felt like a seductive woman, but this seduction felt good. The school building has a basement, a secluded place. It became Cheng and my secret rendezvous spot. There was also the woods in the school's backyard. Cheng would only take me back to the dorms before they closed at 10:30 every night. One night, as Cheng kissed me and gently ignited my passion with his caresses, soft panting and moaning came from deep within the woods. There was also the rustling of leaves. Cheng and I both knew what was happening, and we stood there waiting to catch them in the act, until a man and a woman emerged from the woods. Unfortunately, they were wearing men's clothes covering their heads and walking back in an embrace; I couldn't see who they were. In your twenties, a person's libido is very strong. Especially men. Cheng would caress me almost every night after returning from self-study. He told me he masturbated frequently. He also told me a lot about the boys' dorms; according to him, every boy masturbated. It must be true. With mature bodies, the depictions of sex in books and movies, fantasies about the opposite sex, and seeing so many beautiful and alluring women around every day, it's no wonder that male hormones are overflowing. Besides releasing them on the sports field, the only other way to do so is through self-sufficiency. Even women, when reading novels like *Ruined Capital* and *White Deer Plain*, experience strong sexual urges from descriptions of sex. One night, after six months of this mutual torment, in the dark corner of the stairs after evening self-study, Cheng took my hand and put it inside his pants. I had no idea what a male organ looked like before; I hadn't watched porn, and the male genitalia was a mystery to me. The moment my hand touched it, he ejaculated, covering my hand in a sticky fluid, and I didn't even understand what had happened. Cheng awkwardly pulled my hand away, repeatedly apologizing. I didn't feel he had done anything wrong; I didn't understand what was wrong with him. So, not only did I forgive him without shame, but I also comforted him, saying it was nothing, I could just wash my hands. I didn't understand he had ejaculated. Two days later, during a rendezvous in the basement, Cheng had me lean against the stair railing, and he entered me from behind, making me a woman forever. I was a virgin then, but I didn't experience the pain described in novels. After being with three men, I knew Cheng's penis was still quite large, but there was no blood or pain. I didn't know when I lost my virginity. Later, I looked up some information that said strenuous exercise and cycling could rupture the hymen, but I wasn't sure. My first time was with Cheng, in the basement. Our relationship became even closer. And a young body is an inexhaustible resource. We both had endless pleasure in this wonderful activity. Cheng always lasted very short a time, which I didn't understand. Every time, he excited me greatly. Halfway through, he would suddenly pull out, spraying his passion onto the walls of the school building, the stairwell, and into the woods, leaving me to endure the agonizing pain of incomplete climax. But each time, I pretended to be extremely happy, not wanting Cheng to think I had a high sex drive, nor wanting him to feel guilty. I faked orgasms. I even imitated the women in movies, twisting my body to match Cheng's movements. I knew what an orgasm felt like. While reading the novel "Ruined Capital," I felt incredibly aroused. I pressed my legs tightly together and suddenly experienced a pleasure I'd never felt before. The feeling tightened from somewhere in my body, and then this tension radiated outwards like earthquake waves. I felt an irregular throbbing inside, my heart pounding wildly, my whole body moving in rhythm with the tension and relaxation. That blissful feeling is something you'll never experience without an orgasm. I've had orgasms before, so I wasn't satisfied with my sex with Cheng. But I love Cheng, and I felt it didn't matter if I didn't have an orgasm with him; I could have one myself. With Cheng, I enjoyed love more than sex, while he seemed to enjoy the pleasure of sex more. I believe he loves me too. Cheng and I are both from the countryside. In our junior year of college, we went to work together. Across from the university was a computer shopping street. Companies of all sizes needed cheap, less important labor. I helped distribute flyers, handing out product information at various stalls in the computer market every day. A few days ago, I saw boys like that in the computer market, and I paid special attention to them. It reminded me of myself when I was in school. Cheng was in charge of assembling the machines. He was very smart, and the boss provided him with a walkie-talkie. When he wasn't busy, he would attend classes and study at school; the boss would call him when needed. Sometimes he worked late, and I would wait for him at the company. We would eat barbecue and drink beer on the way back to our dorms. He earned 600 yuan a month, and I earned 300, which was more than enough for both of us. Occasionally, Cheng would help classmates assemble machines and earn an extra 100 or 200 yuan. We were both very frugal, neither feeling inferior because we were from rural areas nor becoming vain by comparing ourselves to our classmates. Cheng was just a bit short-tempered sometimes. He was from Jiangxi. People from the south are generally considered to have a more gentle personality. But he wasn't. If he hadn't finished something, he would be restless. This might sound like dedication nowadays, but it was problematic in his relationships with classmates.

URL 1:https://www.sex3p.com/htmlBlog/118544.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=118544&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Imprisoning the beautiful woman: Making her faint until she bleeds

Next Page : The Heroic Adventures 1-12 44

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

A girl's sex story

comment Open a new window to view comments