There are many sluts in liberal arts classes

A teenager's sexual impulses are always so intense and reckless. What I'm about to recount is a debauched experience from my high school days. In

the year 2000, I was a junior in high school, and we had to choose between arts and sciences. Because I wasn't good at physics, I chose the arts stream.

Two-thirds of the arts classes were girls, and due to the class reshuffling, I discovered that several of the prettiest girls in the grade were assigned to our class.

After a week of school, I gradually became familiar with my new classmates sitting next to me. The girl to my left was named Wang Ning. She had delicate features, short hair, and very fair skin; she was considered one of the prettiest girls in the class.

But I didn't even notice her. She was tall and thin, only half a head shorter than me, and completely not the goddess I had in mind.

And what I disliked most was her pair of small tiger teeth. I hated her smile; I only liked girls with straight teeth.

I loved looking at Li Xiaoxiao, who sat in the first two rows. She was slender, yet had large breasts and a round bottom, and her delicate face always exuded a cold, goddess-like aura.

Unfortunately, I rarely interacted with Li Xiaoxiao back then, and we never really crossed paths.

Wang Ning, who sat next to me, however, always liked to ask me math questions, which annoyed me to no end.

My attitude towards her changed one weekend evening during self-study, because that day, I played with her breasts.

Our school was a boarding school, and the bathhouse was only open on weekends. This didn't bother us boys; every night, the washroom was filled with naked figures showering. But the girls cherished their once-a-week shower opportunity.

That night, there were very few people in the class because evening self-study wasn't mandatory on weekends, and many girls went straight back to their dorms after showering.

While I was doing my homework in class, Wang Ning sat down next to me and asked me to explain a problem to her. I was incredibly annoyed. I straightened up, frowned, and glanced at her. Suddenly, it felt like my heart had been squeezed tightly.

Through the loose neckline of her t-shirt, a small but unusually perky breast was fully exposed before my eyes. Yes, from my angle I could only see one, but that was enough.

She had just showered and wasn't wearing a bra, only a loose tank top to prevent her nipples from showing. When she leaned over the table, the loose tank top and t-shirt revealed a gap about half a palm's width, and even her tender pink nipples were visible.

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly looked away, continuing to explain the problem to her. But while letting her think for herself, I couldn't help but steal glances at her neckline again and again. After several attempts, she finally noticed.

She looked down following my gaze, gasped, and quickly covered her neckline, sitting up straight.

We were both blushing, sitting silently for a long time.

"Don't tell anyone," she suddenly said softly, her eyes pleading as she looked at me.

I was incredibly daring at the time, and without thinking, I blurted out, "Then let me see again."

She didn't respond, her ears turning red with embarrassment. After a long while, she pushed the exercise paper towards me, saying, "You haven't finished explaining it to me yet."

I knew she agreed because she didn't continue holding down her collar, returning to her previous position to listen to my explanation, letting me look through her collar.

God knows how I rambled on like that, and she certainly wasn't listening at all, only focused on blushing.

I felt my penis throbbing painfully, desperately wanting to release.

However, I was still an innocent young boy back then, I hadn't even watched porn, and I had no idea what to do.

"Can I touch it?" I whispered breathlessly in her ear.

This was the boldest thing I could think of. I just wanted to touch those lovely breasts with my own hands.

She still didn't speak, shrinking back into her seat, burying her face in her arms, and leaning on the table.

I glanced around furtively. None of the students in the front row noticed us. I pretended to rest on the desk, my hand trembling, and slowly reached under the desk.

Her breasts were soft yet elastic; even through two layers of fabric, I could feel their exquisite smoothness.

I kneaded them slowly for a while, but not satisfied with just through her clothes, I straightened up again, looked around, and reached under her shirt.

Her belly was equally smooth, like warm satin. My hand slowly moved upwards, grabbing her breast and kneading it vigorously, letting the hard nipple slide between my fingers.

Soon, I couldn't hold back anymore; a strange pleasure surged in my groin. I quickly pulled my hand back, bent over, and ran out the back door. The toilet was only ten meters away, but as soon as I stepped out, my penis violently ejaculated in my pants.

From then on, we had a strange relationship—not a couple, but frequently engaging in intimate contact. Neither of us explicitly stated it, but she never refused whenever I wanted to touch her.

At that time, I wasn't yet aware of the concept of sex; I was somewhat clueless, and more importantly, I was too afraid.

Before I truly learned how to have sex, the boldest time we ever did was during a break between evening self-study sessions, we went to play on a bench in the school's small garden.

That time, I lifted her clothes, sucked on her breasts, had her masturbate me, and made me ejaculate. Back

then, I was only obsessed with her breasts; although they weren't large, they were enough to drive me crazy.

Strangely, I never thought of touching her vagina then; it felt like a place to pee, a bit disgusting.

Even once when I touched her in a way that aroused her, and she took my hand and placed it on her vagina, I only rubbed it a couple of times through my pants before pulling my hand away.

Therefore, when I finally had sex with her for the first time, I ended up having sex with her.

[The End]

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There are many sluts in liberal arts classes

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