Our school building sex experience

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

One Friday afternoon after school, as agreed, we showered and ate dinner as quickly as possible, then went one after the other to the women's restroom on the fourth floor of the science building. My wife went first to check if anyone was there, and after confirming no one was, she called me in. I was so nervous! My little brother was already hard before anything even started. We quickly hid in the second-to-last stall, closed the door, and breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the new restroom, unused, was relatively clean, though a bit small. Anyway, I had to bear it. My wife called me sweetly, and so began our first secret restroom tryst. A

firm embrace always brings us a satisfying feeling. I kissed my wife's lips while my hands roamed over her body. When I touched her back, she trembled slightly. I thought to myself, "Heh, so that's her sensitive spot." I explored and caressed her vigorously, making her both resist and want more.

My wife's warm breath tickled my ear, an itch that defies description; only those who experience it firsthand can truly understand its ecstasy. Our throats were parched, and our breathing grew heavy. I quickly stripped her clothes off, but when it came to taking off her bra, I couldn't get it off. I was so anxious, my hands were trembling. My wife laughed, saying, "Do it yourself, and you'll have plenty!" I stared at her helplessly, thinking, "You'll see soon enough."

After much effort, I finally unbuttoned it, revealing a pair of small, white breasts. The pink nipples shone alluringly, the surrounding white skin a perfect embellishment—truly a beauty as exquisite as jade. Her calves were so thin they seemed almost too big to grasp, and above her pink thighs lay the alluring, mysterious area, barely an inch wide enough to contain the sparse pubic hair. Driven by youthful impulse, I reached out and touched that long-desired triangle, finding it already wet.

So I started by licking my wife's breasts, moving downwards until I reached her vulva. Her wet vulva made my mouth wet, but to be honest, the taste wasn't great. It wasn't unpleasant, but it didn't smell like grapes or cherries as I'd imagined (haha, I've read too many erotic novels). But that didn't matter. The key was the person I loved, so putting in a little effort was fine.

The key to pleasure isn't where you are, but who's by your side. After all that hard work, it was finally my turn. My wife knelt down, comforting me, and unzipped my pants. She grabbed my penis and awkwardly and shyly began to stroke it. I felt a little wet, and then I realized my glans was already wet. It was clear my wife had made a huge decision before kissing me; her brow furrowed slightly, but she seemed resolute. Her technique was really nothing to write home about; she even touched my penis with her teeth every now and then. But overall, the waves of pleasure from my penis almost made me groan out loud.

This must be what they call bittersweet pleasure. A warm current flowed from my lower body to my brain, a feeling that was better than heaven. But the real comfort wasn't the physiological sensation of bioelectricity or the contraction and expansion of nerve endings; it was more about the psychological satisfaction and pleasure. Instinctively, I gently pressed my wife's head down and thrust forward, unknowingly engaging in what I called deep throating. Who knew my wife couldn't take it? She gagged, saying I was hitting her throat, and kept apologizing. But inside, I felt a pang of heartache; I really didn't know how to be gentle with her.

In the end, we both satisfied each other with our hands. Some might ask why we didn't go all the way, but honestly, I was too afraid. What if we got pregnant…? We were still students, with no income. What would we do then? Even if my family didn't object, and I could ignore the societal disapproval, I didn't want my woman to suffer even the slightest harm. Even if many people laughed at me for being foolish, if I had another chance, I wouldn't change my ways.

After that experience, my wife and I's relationship rapidly warmed up. Although we didn't go to the point of "cheating" every time we had free time, we would occasionally go there for a romantic getaway. During our three years of "cheating" in high school, many funny things happened. As the saying goes, the more you climb the mountain, the more likely you are to encounter a tiger. Once, we were halfway through our "cheating" when that diligent aunt came to clean the toilet (there was clearly no one having class there, so why would anyone be using the toilet? What's the point of cleaning?). We were hiding inside, barely daring to breathe. My wife even asked me to lift her up so that no one outside could see that we had four feet inside. Although my wife isn't very heavy, for a normal girl, she must weigh around 90 pounds. It wasn't a problem for a short time, but after a while, my arms and back were so tired and sore. Fortunately, the aunt left after a while. I still laugh to this day when I think about my wife's suggestion to pretend to poop to fool the aunt.

Another time, a pair of like-minded people suddenly appeared out of nowhere, giving us quite a fright. Judging from their voices, they were probably lower-year high school students. They rushed in, not even checking if anyone was in the restroom

, and barged into the stall next to ours. Without a word, the guy started his act. Out of mischievousness, my wife and I decided to play a prank on them. First, we quietly left, then pretended to be teachers and spoke loudly in the hallway. Then my wife went in and pretended to pee. Sure enough, they didn't make a sound. Next, when I suggested my wife pretend to be an auntie, she refused. In desperation, we just banged on their toilet door a few times. I bet they were terrified inside. Haha, we left feeling incredibly happy.

[The End]

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