In middle school classroom

My female deskmate wasn't pretty, but she was very feminine, the kind with a full bust and a round bottom. Her name was something like Zhou Yamei or Zhou Xinmei, anyway, a pretty name.

She was the one who drew me to her breasts, thighs, and even that thing inside her. This was the immense pleasure I received in class that wasn't related to studying.

Zhou Yamei is the one I remember most vividly; I also remember the boy she dated.

They were the most daring couple in my school, openly holding hands after class, which was quite a big deal back then. What's funny is that one time after class, she rushed in, and I rushed out, and we bumped into each other, almost completely pressed together. What struck me most was her wet little mouth, pressed so tightly against mine—that feeling still evokes a primal, primal attraction to kissing. By today's standards, that was probably my first kiss, an unexpected one. I'm particularly good at handling unexpected events. Just as our lips were about to part, I deliberately stopped her again, holding on a little longer. Haha, it was truly a stroke of luck! I remember that the novelty and excitement of that kiss didn't last long before the class rearranged the seating. My eighth-grade homeroom teacher was, I think, the eldest sister of the fourth sister of the village secretary. Whether she arranged it that way intentionally, I don't entirely believe. Anyway, for a while, she put me alone in a corner seat. After teaching me to sing a song, she would sit in my seat. This happened after I had been secretly having lewd fun with Zhou something in class for a while.

My lewd fun with something named Mei was a chance encounter. My pencil rolled to her side, and when I reached for it, I accidentally touched her breast. For some reason, she used her two soft mounds to push my hand to the edge of the desk.

She wanted to seduce me, so of course I had to cooperate. I stretched my thigh over, and she had already raised her thigh, waiting for me, placing it on top of my thigh, and then the part between my legs rubbed against my inner thigh.

The upper body movements were mainly Zhou Meimei rubbing herself to satisfy her lust. That girl rarely spoke, but she was particularly skilled at it. With slight left and right movements, her well-developed breasts pressed against my hand with varying pressure. She also used the motions of turning pages or picking up objects to actually grind herself, creating a shallow, erotic sensation.

The lower body movements were mainly my doing. She offered me her legs, and I rubbed them hard. At first, my legs didn't move too much laterally, but after I discovered that my knees could touch her other thigh, our experiments, with our lower bodies extremely close, became more and more successful each time. When I was a teenager, my little guy would get hard very easily. Back then, my control was poor; if I had a daydream about pornography in my mind, I would get hard.

I couldn't go too far in class. I had to find a period of time, a period of time when I could let loose more. At that time, the academic schedule seemed quite tight on the surface. Teachers really cared about learning, managing everyone regardless of their academic performance, checking homework. Many students wrote essays, and late at night, our beloved teachers were still grading homework under the lamp. Looking back now, I realize that for teachers, the sacred profession of "engineers of the soul," diligently grading students' homework should be a crucial aspect of their professional ethics.

Zhou Meimei would pretend to listen to the teacher, often scribbling something down, especially since the teacher would ask questions.

Speaking of questions, I have to digress a bit. From junior high to high school, I was always considered a good student because grades determined everything. Although I wouldn't get the year-end "Three Good Student

" award, I was guaranteed to be an excellent student; consistently ranking in the top three was the ultimate rule. One of my strange traits was that I could simultaneously indulge in activities unrelated to studying and engage in far-fetched intellectual pursuits while still absorbing the teacher's lectures. I absolutely refused to believe the adage "one cannot do two things at once."

And so, I indulged in frivolous sexual activity in class. After class, Zhou Meimei and I would tacitly sit there, waiting for the other students to rush out for the joyful ten-minute break, while we engaged in more direct forms of sexual contact, letting our frivolous pleasure synchronize with our youth.

After everyone had left, I immediately placed my hand on Zhou Shenmei's inner thigh. She placed her hand on mine as well. The feeling was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Because I had to constantly watch out for any classmates who might barge in.

I couldn't understand why Zhou Shenmei, who was already in a relationship, was so willing to be intimate with me. Back then, in junior high, I was extremely insecure about my appearance, feeling like the ugliest man in the world.

This lack of confidence stemmed mainly from the jokes adults told about my lack of a nose. Actually, it wasn't that I didn't have a nose; it was because I was a little overweight, and my nose wasn't naturally very high, so people would call me Hami Chi, the villainous strategist of Jin Wuzhu in the storytelling of "The Legend of Yue Fei," whose nose was chopped off by the patriotic Yue Fei's army.

Being called an ugly villain was a great disgrace. I naively assumed that no girl would like me, even though I already had my first love, but I only suffered unrequited love and never thought to express it.

This piece is about lust, so I'll save my purely narcissistic first love from junior high, a feeling born of youthful infatuation, for when I'm ready to write "The Chaos of Love." My inferiority complex wasn't completely shaken off until high school, a confidence undoubtedly stemming from my beloved female classmate.

Mei and I seemed to have a telepathic connection; whatever part of her I wanted to touch, she would instinctively offer it to me. I was particularly drawn to her breasts. Since the classroom was empty, I took it a step further, slipping my hand inside her clothes to touch her alluring breasts. That touching was essentially Mei using her seductive breasts to press my hand against the desk. This feeling completely emptied my heart; it was a chaotic, intoxicating frenzy. This

lust for her breasts would last throughout the break, though such moments were rare. Mei also had a boyfriend, holding hands in front of many people and exchanging meaningless romantic nonsense. At that time, I was still too young to understand love, and I couldn't comprehend their deep and passionate affection, much less why she would willingly engage in lewd acts with an ugly person like me. Anyway, we were both bound by our desires. The classroom became our lewd paradise.

We didn't hug, nor did we kiss, but we felt incredibly satisfied. I wonder what Mei looks like now? I haven't seen her since junior high, nor have I heard from her.

[The End]

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In middle school classroom

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