I missed my goddess

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

Men are all lustful, and my thoughts were already wandering even before I broke up with my first love. Back then, there was a website called "Renren," a real-name dating site for university campuses. Our school was near an art college, and this advantageous location allowed me to frantically explore the resources of neighboring schools. I somewhat miss the online atmosphere of that time; there weren't so many scammers, and people weren't as wary. After greeting people, I usually got a response. From those responses, I selected a few attractive individuals, and after chatting online for a while, I basically settled on my target—P, my second girlfriend.

The reason I chose her wasn't just because of her outstanding looks, but more importantly, because I observed that her daily activities and spending habits weren't extravagant. The art college campus was full of luxury cars on weekends, and as a poor student, I didn't have the means to compete. But there was a fatal obstacle: she had a boyfriend, a soldier serving in another city. Fortunately, her home was near my school, which somewhat bridged the gap between us. We chatted casually, getting to know each other slowly.

Not long after my internship started, I organized a small party at a karaoke bar and invited her. She arrived happily, tall and slender, wearing a beret, her beauty breathtaking, her breasts proudly erect—the term "a rare beauty" wouldn't be an exaggeration. Having chatted online for over half a year, we weren't strangers, and even on our first meeting, we sang, played dice, and drank without the slightest awkwardness.

I was completely captivated, endlessly fantasizing about her photos. She understood what I was thinking, but while not rejecting me, she went to her boyfriend's home in the north for the Spring Festival. I knew she wasn't a virgin, but having to watch them chat while they were in the same room broke my heart. A few days later, she told me she had decided to break up with him, and he promised not to touch her again. My spring had finally arrived.

To make my internship more convenient, I shared a room with a classmate. My roommate ate takeout and didn't use the kitchen. She said, "From now on, I'll be a maid, cooking for you." We went to the market together, she cooked, and I washed the dishes—like a young couple, only we weren't living together. Knowing I loved white fungus soup, she specially looked up a recipe and made it for me. I posted a picture of her on Renren.com, making everyone envious. On March 20, 2013, I accidentally injured my leg, not seriously, and took the day off to avoid work. That night, she told me she would bring me medicine the next day, and I told her my roommate would be at work. To this day, I still remember what she said: "Wouldn't that be like dry wood meeting a raging fire?" I started imagining what the next day would be like and didn't sleep well all night.

The next morning, she arrived as promised. I don't remember the scene of applying the medicine, only that our lips met, and our clothes were taken off one by one. Because of my injured leg, she made me lie down, and then slowly crawled up from the side of my leg, like a snake. When she passed my crotch area, she licked it with her tongue through my underwear, and even gave me a playful look. I will never forget that alluring look in her eyes. At that moment, I forgot all about my leg injury and pushed her down, eagerly trying to unhook her bra. But the more I rushed, the less I succeeded. She smiled and unhooked it herself, revealing two large, white breasts. Her breasts were as outstanding as her face—C-cup, white and tender, truly a masterpiece. I sucked on them frantically, then rubbed my already rock-hard erection against her. An embarrassing thing happened; I had never been so excited before, and the floodgates opened quickly. My mind went blank for a moment. Even through her underwear, the unique smell of semen still lingered in the air. I wasn't sure if she smelled it, so I tried to ease the awkwardness by whispering sweet nothings. Fortunately, my young body recovered quickly, and I became erect again during foreplay. I took off our underwear, telling myself I would remember this feeling forever. However, reality wasn't as smooth as I imagined. Shortly after we started kissing, she took off my glasses, and I couldn't see the entrance clearly. She guided me in with her right hand. I was overwhelmed with surprise and disbelief. From the moment we met to our physical intimacy, almost a whole year had passed. I asked her, "Did I go in?" She bit her lip, her face flushed, and nodded vigorously. Knowing nothing of technique, I only knew to thrust relentlessly, putting in tremendous effort, wanting to unleash all the energy I'd accumulated over twenty years in this one moment. She moaned and groaned beneath me, giving me a tremendous sense of accomplishment. Because I'd already ejaculated before penetration, my first time was exceptionally vigorous. I thrust for about twenty minutes, and finally, I felt the urge to ejaculate again. Only then did I realize we weren't using a condom! She seemed to see right through me, panting as she told me, "Come inside, it's my safe period." I obeyed, giving myself completely to her, refusing to come even after I went soft. Afterwards, I held her, telling her about my feelings for her over the past year and the excitement of losing my virginity, telling her I would love her forever.

Having opened the door to a new world, we began a shameless life together, with almost every meeting including sex. She even took time off from her internship, spending all her time at home having sex, to the point that her legs ached when she got out of bed. She taught me how to unhook a bra in a second, how to give someone a hickey, how to use the cowgirl position with back and forth rubbing… You could say my sexual experience started off at its peak. During sex, she would respond to me, calling out, “Honey, you’re so amazing,” and each thrust was drowned out by her loud moans, sounds that I found incredibly satisfying, to the point that I secretly recorded our lovemaking. She didn’t want me to wear a condom, saying she wanted to feel the stimulation of our flesh touching. When I was about to ejaculate, I wanted to pull out, but she would cross her legs and lock me inside, saying she wanted to feel my hot fluid. I always thought she was exceptional because she would keep squeezing me after I entered her; it was a wonderful feeling, one I’ve only ever experienced with her. Not only that, she could also squirt. Back then, I didn't know it was called squirting. I only knew that sometimes during sex, her moans would suddenly rise, and she would grip my back tightly, trembling uncontrollably. Then, a gush of fluid would gush from her vagina, soaking the sheets. I loved having sex with her from behind, being able to squeeze her drooping breasts hard with both hands—that feeling was incredibly pleasurable, even though I could never last long from behind. The most exciting sex session was after we finished eating and washing the dishes. She was wearing a short skirt and suddenly sat on the stove, legs spread wide, teasing me. Upon closer inspection, I realized she was wearing sexy lingerie under her skirt, with a cutout in the middle. My blood instantly boiled, I pulled down my pants, aimed at her, and ejaculated in one go. We stayed by the kitchen windowsill for a while, then I carefully picked her up and carried her to the living room. She bounced up and down in my arms, letting out moans. So exciting! Later, I couldn't resist anymore and put her on the dining table, ejaculating all over her. Just as we finished tidying up our clothes, my roommate suddenly opened his bedroom door to go to the bathroom, and we realized there had been a third person in the room all along.

Naturally, she also helped heal the psychological trauma of oral sex that my first love had left me with. I can say with certainty that her tongue is the most agile I've ever seen; I just had to lie there and enjoy the rest. She would explore every nook and cranny, leaving no blind spots. Most importantly, she would observe my expression while performing the act, while I would shyly cover my head with the blanket and make "ah ah" sounds. Later, she said that the way I couldn't help but moan was so cute and made her very happy. We've had facials, deep throats, and blowjobs, and we even recorded it, but she later made me delete it because she was worried about leaks. She never thought I was dirty; even right after sex, if I told her I wanted to do it again, she would immediately take it in her mouth and make it grow quickly. Sometimes she would playfully suck on my penis, wanting me to taste it too, but I would pull away and never kiss after oral sex. We even had anal sex halfway through. Once, during anal penetration, I went to the wrong spot. Just as I entered her anus, she jolted and told me it was for her future husband. I was enraged and forcefully said, "I am your husband!" Then I ignored her and continued penetration. Unfortunately, I hadn't prepared lubricant, so it failed. Later, because I felt it was dirty, I gave up, but I often comforted myself that it was her "first time" for me.

What I remember most vividly is when I went to donate sperm, wanting to check my semen quality at the same time. I told her I would masturbate and ejaculate into a test bottle. She didn't reply on WeChat, but after a few minutes, she sent me a series of nude photos. "Husband, even if it's just masturbation, I want you to masturbate in front of me!" I still keep those photos; they're quite poignant.

Although having sex with her was enjoyable, I couldn't help but wonder how many men she'd been with to develop such skill. I asked a friend in the police force to check her hotel records. From February 1, 2009, to October 6, 2012, there were 12 entries. I only had one sexual partner, yet she had so many past relationships before me. I started to feel indignant. Men are ridiculous; on the one hand, they want to marry virgins, and on the other hand, they want to have sex with mature women. I don't know what got into me, but I kept suspecting that she and her previous men didn't use condoms and that she'd contracted diseases and passed them on to me. So I became increasingly resistant to intimacy with her, always finding various excuses to refuse her. But she, on the other hand, loved sex, like she was addicted. So our relationship gradually cooled, and even when she told me she wanted more, I was unmoved. Behind every beautiful woman is a man who's had sex with her until he's sick of it—that saying is so true.

I don't remember if we ever formally broke up; we both tacitly stopped contacting each other until one day I saw her sitting on the back of another man's electric scooter. I knew it was all over. But things took a turn. One day she contacted me, asking me to help her with her Samsung phone (I'm an expert in all kinds of electronics). In my room, I hugged her and told her I missed her a lot; actually, I hadn't had sex in weeks and was craving her body. I kissed her forcefully and tried to pull down her pants, but she desperately resisted, telling me she was on her period. At that moment, I knew she had rejected me from the bottom of her heart. Because even when she was menstruating, she would still make love with me passionately, and the faint smell of blood in the air became a unique and indelible mark in my mind. Only then did the story truly end. We deleted each other on WeChat and QQ and never contacted each other again. I don't know if she's now a wife or a mother; I only know that even after many years, when I recall her alluring beauty, my lower body still gets hard.

To the goddess I let go of so easily when I was young and naive!

[The End]

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