【My Missed Female Classmates】(01-02) Author: Liao Wuhen

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

Author: Liao Wuhen
Word Count: 4251

(I)

I came to France in 2009, knowing nothing. Most of my classmates from Shanghai who studied French with me were
girls . Being new to a foreign land, everyone felt incredibly lonely, so we kept in touch quite often.

Let me start with Wen. She was the first to come to Paris to visit me. I guess she was really bored in Montpellier, that retirement city
. It was her first time in Paris, and I, being a bit of a fool, took her to Montmartre and the Eiffel Tower, just wandering around aimlessly. Back then, I didn't know anything about renting apartments,
so I rented a studio apartment in 93 for over 800 euros. The location wasn't great,
but it had everything I needed. The Shanghai girl felt bad about eating and using my things while visiting Paris, so she suggested
buying groceries and cooking for me. At that time, I was frantically buying all sorts of wines to collect, and seeing
how much food she bought, I went to the store and picked out a bottle of wine for around 20 euros.

Wen is quite tall, at least 170cm, with a quiet appearance. She graduated from Shanghai International Studies University with a degree in French, and
was particularly confident in her French, possessing a very good temperament, though a bit aloof. When I was studying in Shanghai, I rarely spoke to her,
only doing a few group projects together. This time in Paris, she talked so much for the first time, even cooking for me and we ate together,
which was a bit of a surprise.

Seeing her snow-white neck and ears from behind while cooking in the kitchen always gives me a flutter in my heart,
but back then I lacked experience, having neither the desire nor the courage. Perhaps it was fate's way of reminding me, but suddenly the power
went out in our house. In the darkness, I could only sense a faint fragrance and her slightly
rapid breathing. But I was so silly then; within seconds, I broke the awkward silence,
took out my phone, turned on the light, and flipped the circuit breaker. It was probably
caused by high-powered appliances like the rice cooker and induction cooker. During dinner, Wen asked me, "You're so strange. I feel like you're not interested in girls or relationships
." I hurriedly explained that I had dated a few girlfriends back in China, but I hadn't gotten to know them well since I was new here, and I had
n't considered that possibility yet. Looking back, she probably thought I hadn't made a move on such a good opportunity, and probably suspected I was
a homebody…

Before I knew it, we'd finished a bottle of wine. While I was packing up, I told Wen to go
take a shower. After about half an hour, I desperately needed to pee, so as soon as she came out, I rushed in
and started showering too. I don't like very hot water, so I turned the water cool. As the steam dissipated
, I noticed a pair of black underwear on the armrest, and my previously subdued penis immediately became erect again. Looking closer
, I realized it was a thong, and all sorts of fantasies started running through my head. Actually, Wen seemed quite quiet and didn't seem
like the type to be particularly adventurous. I figured I must have rushed in too quickly; she didn't even have time to pack
her belongings. But I'm utterly powerless against women's black lingerie, especially thongs. I fantasized
about all sorts of scenarios with her, and somehow I ended up... Looking back, I realize how weak-willed and lacking in foresight I was.

When Wen came out of the shower, she had already changed her clothes—a pink tank top and black leggings.
Instantly, my little brother, which had just calmed down, became aroused again. She asked if I had a hairdryer, and I said I'd help her dry her hair. So I
took the hairdryer and had her sit on the bed to dry her hair. Wen's hair was thick and long. As I was blow-drying it, I would use
my fingers to smooth it out to prevent tangles. She would close her eyes and let me stroke her hair without saying a word. Occasionally, I
would intentionally or unintentionally touch her scalp and the back of her neck. Later, when her hair was dry, I took the initiative to massage her
head and neck. She still kept her eyes closed. It was in this silence that I suddenly couldn't help but lower my head and kiss
her. At first, she wouldn't open her mouth, and my whole body pressing down on her might have made it hard for her to breathe. So she naturally
let go , and our saliva instantly merged together. We were passionately entwined, kissing from her upper body
all the way down to her navel. When I took off her leggings and saw that she was wearing a sky-blue thong,
I felt like I had been injected with adrenaline.

I've always felt that a woman wearing a little bit of clothing is ten times sexier than being completely naked. I didn't rush to take off her panties,
but instead kissed her entire body first, from her most sensual collarbone to her nipples, then to the tender flesh on the inside of her thighs, and then
slowly moved towards the inside of her knees. The girl probably had never experienced such a nimble tongue before, and kept her eyes closed, enjoying it.
Finally, my tongue stopped on the inside of her thighs, but I didn't rush to touch that last forbidden area. However, I could clearly
feel that the girl couldn't hold back anymore, and kept twisting her waist and hips.

The best is always saved for last. I placed the pillow under her stomach and rolled her over onto her
stomach. I began my final exploration, starting from her ears. When I reached her long-desired paradise,
I gently pulled back the edge of her thong, watching the soft fabric, glistening with a thin layer of clear fluid, barely
touching that last virgin territory. I gazed at her beautiful vulva for a long time, then suddenly brushed my tongue across her
tender flesh. The reserved Wen finally couldn't help but gasp. After a few more teasing moments, I suddenly pulled down her
panties . She let out a soft cry. Looking at her already overflowing, wet vulva, I greedily
buried my head in those fleshy petals that all men find irresistible. Sometimes I brushed against her perineum, sometimes I thrust
forward, trying to penetrate that bottomless pit with my tongue, sometimes I slowly parted the protective layer of her clitoris, gently nibbling at that
sensual switch. Not long after, I felt the girl's breathing become rapid, her legs tense, and her thigh
muscles trembled. I knew she had reached orgasm, so I slowly kissed her face and hugged her. The girl
scolded me shyly for being so playful, saying she thought I was just a little kid.

Sometimes with women, you only need to get her to orgasm once, turn on that switch, and then her whole body and soul
will open up to you. A usually quiet girl will sit on a man's lap without any shame, twisting wildly.
In the missionary position, she will often wrap her legs around your waist and thrust upwards repeatedly. Several times I
almost ejaculated, and in the end, of course, I released myself completely with my beloved penis amidst her frenzied moans.

Actually, I've always preferred to give women oral sex first before starting to penetrate. Firstly,
it provides great visual and psychological satisfaction, and secondly, it makes the rest of the act much easier. Many guys, young and unaware of
the value of sperm, constantly deplete their energy, which doesn't necessarily lead to good results. The purpose of sex isn't just to
reach that final moment. If it's just about pursuing that fleeting instant, then toys can easily cheat. Enjoying
the process is the driving force behind our fascination with it. When you truly immerse yourself in and enjoy it, you will...
In that final moment, we achieved complete emptiness, and that was the closest we got to God, because
we were completely selfless.

(II)

Continuing with Y, also a Shanghai girl, though she's not young, standing at 175cm, with a
slightly heroic appearance. I don't know why someone in their thirties still has acne, and her personality doesn't have the
maturity expected of someone her age. According to other classmates, she used to work as a junior manager at a French company.
Thinking about people in the city, I guess at some point they all get sick and go looking for another "walled city" (a metaphor for a difficult situation).

People who have started working are quite different from us young kids back then. While we were still being fooled by agents
, she was already DIYing her way abroad. She went to Normandy, France, a region
where, as the French say, "God is constantly spitting on them." It was rainy and
gloomy , a perfect time for making love at home with music.

During that time, we contacted each other occasionally via QQ. I didn't have much of a feeling for her; she seemed more like a
mature friend, lacking that kind of sexual attraction. Looking back now, I realize that's just how women are. When a man
has an urgent need, a woman can usually sense it. Conversely, if you can communicate with a
woman , you'll always have unexpected gains.

But back then, I wasn't so clear-headed; I was just a naive young man.

I remember she once told me that if I liked nature, the forests here would be quite interesting.
Although my rational mind told me not to have any romantic feelings for her, my male instincts still made me unconsciously fantasize.
For various reasons, I never made time to visit her. It dragged on until she graduated. She asked if I could stay at her place
for a few days, do some shopping in Paris, and then go back home. By then, I had moved to a place in Paris, and my apartment
was quite large, so I readily agreed.

Because I had boasted to her about how great my cooking was, Y insisted that I
cook for her. I had no choice but to roll up my sleeves and become her cook on the first night I stayed with her. She would even
help me with chores, giving me a friendly, neighborly feeling. We chatted happily about our past
relationships , and I learned that she had gone abroad to heal after breaking up with her boyfriend in Shanghai.
Although she had some suitors during her two years here, she always felt disgusted by them when things got serious. She asked if I had a girlfriend
during . I stupidly replied, "No girlfriend, just some female companions."
She paused for a moment, then laughed and said, "You guys are all so naughty."

Looking
at kissed her lips. She resisted at first, but after a few struggles, she let go. Y was wearing
a skirt, so I lifted it up and pulled down her panties. Her two long, slender legs shyly
pressed together. Without a second thought, I spread her legs and kissed her. Y hurriedly tried to wiggle
her hips, saying she was dirty from not showering, but I was already slowly moving from her inner thighs towards her core. I
didn't feel any smell, and I couldn't wait to kiss her.

I unleashed all my skills, attacking and teasing Y's sensitive areas. With each step of my assault, Y
collapsed onto the sofa like a limp rag. Gradually, I sensed her reactions weren't as intense as before; I
knew she was starting to adjust to my tongue. Then, I mischievously decided to tease this older woman. I
circled her clitoris with my tongue, occasionally licking her moist vaginal opening, then moving down
to cover her entire perineum, but refusing to touch the clitoris itself. Slowly, she couldn't take it anymore and her body
reacted again. Then, I used my fingers to pull the skin around her clitoris apart, fully exposing it, and
gently touched the tender, shy clitoris with the tip of my tongue. I kept circling the foreskin around the clitoris,
occasionally lightly touching the clitoris with the tip of my tongue. Suddenly, she clamped my head between her legs, her buttocks thrusting upwards repeatedly.
I couldn't care less about technique anymore; I sucked on her clitoris and quickly flicked it repeatedly with my tongue. Finally, she
couldn't take it and pushed me away.

After she calmed down a bit, I held her close, and she told me she had just had several orgasms in a row. I
took her hand and placed it on my penis, asking her pitifully what to do about it. She said she needed to rest,
otherwise she would faint. I knew that sometimes women experience soreness after an orgasm, just like men do after ejaculation. I
took a shower, and when I came back, she was half asleep, so I took a condom from the drawer and put it on.
After her orgasm, she wasn't as shy anymore, so I had her kneel on the sofa and continued to tease
her with my tongue. Feeling that she was aroused again, I placed my penis at the entrance. Perhaps because it had been a long time since she had been with a man
, she started to tense up when it came to the real thing. I leaned down and slowly stroked her breasts and
back , and only when I felt her relax did I slowly penetrate her little by little. I never expected that a woman in her thirties
could be so tight down there. Although it was very wet and slippery, the tightness was very noticeable to both of us.
At moment of penetration, we both groaned involuntarily.

The visual stimulation of having sex with a girl with such long legs for the first time was intense. I held her waist and slowly
entered and exited, trying to make each encounter as slow as possible. But
I surrendered . I told her, somewhat embarrassed, that her waist and shapely buttocks were incredibly sexy from behind. She told me
that my penis was the hardest she had ever experienced, and that it felt so good every time it hit that spot.

Then we took a shower, and in the bathroom, we couldn't resist and became intimate again. Afterward,
we tried various positions. When we made love face-to-face, she took the initiative, hugging me and kissing me passionately. Her slender waist
swayed constantly, and her lower body rhythmically tightened around my penis, which was covered in her
love juice. That kind of initiative from a thirty-year-old woman is something I still remember vividly. We made love three times that night, and I slept until dawn
the next day For the next few days, besides going shopping with her, we made love at home.

Later, I reluctantly saw her off at the airport. After she returned to her country, we contacted each other less, and that's how we
lost touch.

Sometimes I feel inexplicably sad, wondering how those people who shared the most beautiful moments of my life with me
are doing now, like shooting stars that streaked across each other's lives.

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