Our passion for the first time

At fifteen, during my puberty, I was particularly interested in sex, but I lacked the opportunity to delve deeper. My only concept of sex since entering puberty came from vague details in erotic martial arts novels borrowed from classmates. Being rather introverted and unnoticed by girls, I felt somewhat inferior, and my first ejaculation terrified me.

I remember starting to grow taller in my second year of junior high, my Adam's apple became more prominent, my voice deepened, and most surprisingly, pubic hair began to grow. At that time, I spent my days staring blankly at the blackboard, strange thoughts occasionally popping into my head. I also found myself unconsciously looking at girls' breasts and legs, sometimes wanting to slap myself—why did I have such a perverted tendency?

Once, my deskmate wore a sleeveless dress; she was a sprinter on our school's track and field team. Because of her frequent exercise, her breasts developed exceptionally quickly; as far as I remember, her size was comparable to that of Eiko Koike in Japan today. Half the class was chasing after her, mainly because she was the kind of woman with a seductive, almost foxy look. She had repeated a grade and was two years older than me, always treating me like a little kid.

One day in class, she fell asleep, and without realizing it, the strap of her dress came undone, dangling from her shoulder. I was still listening to the lecture when I unconsciously turned my head and saw that half of her breast was completely exposed to my view. My face flushed instantly. I quickly looked away and glanced around at the people, but since I was sitting in the corner of the last row, no one noticed her "boundless beauty."

At first, I forced myself to continue listening to the lecture, but I felt an irresistible itch, and finally couldn't resist stealing a glance. That glance is unforgettable (even later, when I attended her wedding, it still felt strange to think about).

Please understand, men sometimes just can't control themselves.

Beneath her snow-white shoulders, her full breasts were flawless (thanks to the soil and water of Hunan, her skin was so delicate; even the wind and sun during training hadn't tanned it). Because the bra I bought wasn't big enough and the straps were loose, probably because the size couldn't keep up with her development, and it was too tight and uncomfortable, half of her breasts had completely spilled out of the cups. Her pink areolas and plump nipples were as delicate and erect as unopened flower buds. My blood rushed to my head, and my lower body throbbed violently.

My youthful shyness made me instinctively nudge her with my elbow. She opened her sleepy eyes and straightened her clothes. Unfortunately, the teacher was calling on her, and she was flustered and at a loss for words. Feeling guilty, I opened my book and let her read the answer. Afterwards, she gratefully said, "That's kind of you. I'll remind you again if the teacher needs anything." In

her third year of junior high, rumors spread throughout the school about her affair with a high school boy, supposedly involving multiple sexual encounters. The fabricated details were described with remarkable accuracy. Many teachers and classmates began to look down on her, which distressed her greatly, and she often cried alone. I rarely spoke to her, so she didn't feel neglected.

Seeing her sad, I felt sorry for her, and perhaps I also felt guilty (after all, I had done something wrong).

One day, she was upset by a boy from the next class and cried again. She even slapped him. Seeing her with snot and tears streaming down her face was really unsightly (any pretty girl crying looks terrible, the "pear blossom in the rain" thing is nonsense), so I handed her a handkerchief. She was very grateful to me that day, and she was especially kind to me afterward, never calling me "little kid" again.

A month before graduation, she had already contacted the technical school affiliated with her workplace (children of employees in our construction system can directly attend the technical school affiliated with their workplace), and stopped attending classes, while I was preparing for the high school entrance exam and was still studying hard. One weekend, I was studying in class when she arrived. She was dressed exceptionally well, in a white dress with small blue flowers, her hair styled in a short braid at the back, with two strands of bangs falling on either side of her face, making her look as beautiful and gentle as Belldandy from the anime.

She got straight to the point and asked me to go out. My mind went blank, and I followed her out of the classroom without really thinking. We arrived at an artificial pond near the playground. Sitting under the shade of a willow tree, gazing at the white lotus flowers in the pond, I couldn't help but think of the time I had secretly watched her, and my face immediately turned red. She asked casually, "Do you like me?

" I didn't answer, but instead tossed pebbles into the water, the ripples being my answer. Seeing the unconscious smile on my face, she expertly pulled me down and kissed me. Thinking back, my first kiss was a passionate French kiss; the intoxicating feeling was truly intoxicating. Here's a serious warning to young guys: if you want to control yourself, never kiss a girl deeply. Doing so will quickly ignite your passion to a terrifying degree.

The passionate kiss aroused my burgeoning body, but she suddenly pushed me away, saying, "You're actually quite naughty, don't think I didn't know you were peeking at me. Sometimes I let you see on purpose." Seeing her hearty laughter, I felt utterly ashamed. After a while, she said softly, "Don't expect me to be your girlfriend. I'm no longer a pure and innocent girl. I'm sure you've heard the rumors."

We sat quietly for a while, then she suddenly started taking off her clothes, startling me. She was down to only her bra and underwear, then plunged into the pond. How daring! This pond not only had weeds, but people had drowned there before. After swimming for a while, she called me to join her. At first, I hesitated, but then, lustfully eyeing her body, I went in too.

In the water, she was a much better swimmer than I was. She quietly dove under me, pulled down my shorts, and quickly swam to the shore. Swallowing some water, I was dizzy and called for her to give me back my underwear, only to see her naked on the bank, watching me with a half-smirk.

The cold water didn't stop my erection. I don't even remember how I got back to shore, but my shame had been completely cast aside in the spring-filled pond. I lay on my back on the muddy bank, my angry little brother standing tall like a rocket. "You want to show off? I'll test you too." Although I wasn't particularly strong in junior high, I had some muscles in my arms and abdomen from practicing Xingyi Quan with my uncle since childhood, especially the six square-shaped muscles in my abdomen, which were quite attractive to girls.

She looked at me for a while, then moved over to kiss me. At first, I deliberately ignored her. But suddenly, she reached out and grabbed my little brother, rubbing it up and down. How could a naive young man like me resist such teasing? I surrendered in no time. Feeling part of myself throbbing in her warm palm, and a sticky fluid flowing out, I felt a little embarrassed.

The languidness brought on by the climax made me almost sleepy. In my dazed state, I glanced to the side. Under the summer sun, a snow-white body, still glistening with droplets of water, looked exceptionally alluring in the dazzling light. This was the first time I had observed a woman's body so closely; truly, "a face like a lotus, eyebrows like willows," "smooth

as silk from the hot spring water." Beside her peach-blossom face, starry eyes held affection, and a slightly teasing smile played on her lips. Ten years later, I describe that scene with even more profound words, relying on my vivid memory. Her curves were so exquisite and alluring, her rounded shoulders supporting a tuft of long, black hair, her full, white breasts bouncing like two lively little doves, her flat stomach adorned with lush black pubic hair, her slender waist complementing her pert hips and full thighs, her long calves ending in a pair of perfectly sized jade feet—a perfect figure.

What is gentleness? At this moment, I completely grasped it. The days of youthful inexperience were gone forever. She gently took my hand and placed it on her breasts; it felt like holding a soft, smooth ball of jelly, my fingers tracing her delicate nipples like brushing against plump grapes. Slowly, I bent down and took them into my mouth, savoring the sweet fragrance of a young girl.

A soft, seductive moan reached my ears, like the most longed-for heavenly sound a man could hear. A pair of jade arms encircled my head, her smooth skin brushing against my cheeks; she writhed like a fish out of water. After a long while, I looked up and gazed into her beautiful eyes. In her hazy gaze, I saw a flickering flame.

"Do you want to see my body?" she asked playfully.

"Aren't I looking?" I replied with a smile.

"I... I mean, there." I never expected that she, with her wealth and experience, would show such a shy expression. How enchanting.

As she spoke, she shifted her body, parted her legs, and revealed her most intimate place to me. To exaggerate a bit, I felt as if I were enveloped in a holy light, for the great birthplace of humanity had been laid bare before me. This was the first time I had closely observed a woman's genitals; it was beautiful, at least to a lustful young man. Beneath the thick, dark pubic hair lay a pinkish slit—truly a mysterious paradise for an innocent boy, and a gentle haven for a man in the throes of deep pleasure.

Reaching out to touch its edge sent a shiver down my spine. Seeing this, I was somewhat flustered. A slender, delicate hand reached down, gently parting the two petals, and then curled a finger to tease the lustrous pearl on the slit. A gurgling spring overflowed from within, further emphasizing the serenity within.

"Come... I want you," a gentle voice beckoned.

But I didn't know what to do. It was that warm hand again that guided my manhood into that moist, fiery place.

She wasn't a virgin, so there was less pain, and everything was so beautiful. I was in her, and she was in me. Soft lips and a smooth tongue accompanied me, the friction of our skin bringing even greater pleasure.

At one point, I almost ejaculated, but she calmly pressed between my thighs, calming the almost uncontrollable urge. Then she gently breathed into my ear and said some teasing things, bringing me back to a stable state of motion.

We were intimately entwined, and after a long time, her breathing became more and more rapid, accompanied by sobbing moans. I sensed that the climax was approaching, so I increased the speed of my thrusts, letting my masculine energy flow freely. The deep impact gradually made the girl beneath me go limp, and finally, with a low growl, I released my most fervent passion into her body. Then, trembling, we entered the realm of pleasure, unwilling to leave.

This girl—no, I should say this woman—taught me the most vivid lesson of my life. I thank her for her generosity and her warmth, and she will forever be etched in my heart, regardless of whether my feelings for her can be considered love.

[The End]

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