freshman junior sister

I have many hobbies that I keep secret, and the guqin (a seven-stringed zither) is one of them. If you say "play," that's too amateurish; to be precise, it's called "stroking." Strumming the guqin has never been about technique, but rather elegance. Whether it's good or bad is irrelevant, but finding a true listener is rare, so I've always only played it for my own enjoyment. During my first year of graduate school, the department required each major to put on a performance for New Year's Day. There was a lot of debate in the group chat; probably no one wanted to put in the effort. So I said, "I'll do it." Probably no one expected me to have this talent. However, this was just the beginning.

It seems to be a theorem at our university that graduate students don't participate in activities outside of academics. Perhaps graduate students don't have any special talents either, like the music students who only sing, or the physical education students who only play sports. Until they approached me, asking if I could perform at an internal student union gala. I never refuse people, especially not requests like this; with no other choice, I could only say yes. He said, "We'll find someone to handle it." I said, "No problem."

I was added to the student union's gala preparation group; the most active members, of course, were the freshmen. To me, they were adorably ridiculous, running themselves ragged, only to end up with nothing. Isn't the student council just such a bureaucratic place? Like little kids, chattering away, so the group chat is always flashing. I know the term "generation gap," but I'll chat with them a bit when I'm bored, watching their antics. Before I knew it

, it was time for rehearsal. Although I was given special permission not to go, using privileges isn't always a good idea, and if something went wrong, I'd probably have no way to defend myself, and I'd feel bad for everyone. So I slung my violin over my shoulder and headed to the auditorium. At the entrance, a freshman was on duty. The girl was incredibly cute, petite, wearing a black wool coat and a pink scarf. Just as I was about to introduce myself, she grabbed my arm and said, "Senior, I'm in charge of your performance." I paused, pointing to the violin on my back. She looked at me, grabbed my arm with both hands, and nodded vigorously. I smiled and said, "Let's go then." There was a distance to walk backstage, but her words and laughter filled that distance. She said she'd added me on QQ, but I'd set it to reject all friend requests (that was indeed possible two years ago). She said she thought I wouldn't come to rehearsals, which would make things easier for her. She said she's a Taurus, so listening to the piano was like playing music to a cow for her. She said… I smiled without saying anything, or politely nodded and hummed in agreement. I thought the girl was really brainless.

The rehearsal passed quickly, and out of necessity, I added her on QQ as well, because of work. She always liked to call me "Master," and I said, "Then you're practically a pageboy." Her clinginess was beyond my imagination. That's where my scumbag nature lies—not taking advantage of what's offered to me. That's probably how Chinese people are; they love to take advantage. I said

there was a performance at the old campus, would you like to go, little pageboy? She said yes, she'd never been before, she wanted to visit. I said, "You're so pathetic, don't let people think I'm a tourist." The performance went smoothly as usual, and that evening the two of us decided to walk back. It was quite a distance. I carried the violin on my back, while she shuffled ahead of me. I said I was tired, and she said little girls don't get tired, so why should a grown man like you? I pointed to the violin behind me. She said, "Then I'll carry you." I smiled. But she stood still, bent her legs, and said, "Hurry up and get on." So I wrapped my arms around her neck and pressed myself against her. The evening breeze blew by, and I said, "Your shampoo smells so good."

The old campus was only deserted in the mornings. So I pressed my forearm tightly against her chest, which was probably the undeveloped chest of a young girl. My nostrils were close to her ear, my breath hot, and my tongue gently licked her earlobe. I have to admit, in this respect, I might be an expert. I heard her breathing become heavier, and I saw her face flushed. I said, "Yanzi, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" She didn't answer. My left arm remained against her chest, while my right hand slid down her clothes and into her pants. I used my middle finger to align the seam. My standing position and the fact that my jeans didn't allow me to penetrate deeply, I could only rub with the pad of my middle finger. I felt her wetness, seeping out little by little from that slit. I whispered, "Little slut." She responded with a soft "Mmm." I pulled my hand away, grabbed her shoulders with both hands, turned her around, and then pressed her down. She went from squatting to kneeling, and I looked up at her, and she looked back at me. I smiled, intending to pull my erection out of my pants, but found it was already rock hard, so I had to unbutton it, release it, and then button it up again. I hooked her chin with my right hand and said in a no-holds-barred tone, "Lick it, slut." Perhaps the 17cm height of the South Korean was a little surprised by this 1996-born girl, or perhaps my actions were enough to shock the young girl. She paused for a moment, the night was quiet, and I heard her swallow. Then she grabbed my wicked desire with both hands, opened her mouth, and swallowed it, completely stretching her mouth open. The autumn air was still cool, but the moment she closed her mouth, a warmth enveloped my desire. I felt the flesh inside her dimples, which she usually smiled at, gently touching me. I was right; she wasn't some innocent child. Thinking this, I suddenly tensed my muscles, and she began to move. Slow and gentle, I could feel the pressure and shape of her lips on my shaft. At the point where the glans met the shaft, she rotated her head slightly before continuing to suck, until she pulled out with a soft "pop" in the quiet night. I stroked her hair, never expecting such a little girl during the day to possess such a seductive power at night. Before I could think further, she opened her mouth wide again, swallowing my penis completely from the base, slowly moving it towards the head. This time, she didn't pull out, but rotated it at the groove before quickly returning to the bottom. I heard the sound of saliva being swallowed in her throat. "Good boy, you little slut," I said. She looked up at me, "Senior, it's so big." "Oh? What's so big?" I asked deliberately. She said, "That's huge." I said, "Where is it?" She hummed shyly. I chuckled to myself. I

glanced at my watch under the distant streetlights; it was past 10. The dorms closed at 11. I'm a local, so it's fine if I don't go back, but she's a freshman. If she doesn't go back tonight, I'm afraid rumors will spread in the dorm. I said, "Hurry up, you slut." Just then, I saw a figure in the distance again. I tensed up and ejaculated. But then this small body did something that surprised me: it swallowed. She got up, wiped her chin with the back of her hand, and smiled at me. I patted her head, pointed to the piano behind her, and said, "Let's go." We took a detour, but we heard a figure not far away, followed by a groan. She lowered her head and walked faster. This was the first time I ejaculated outdoors.

The student council performance was a few days later. She still clung to me like a child. I privately called her "Little Dog." She barked, took my hand, and gently bit my fingers. I said, "You were so wet that day. I didn't wash my hands. Do I smell like you?" She stuck her tongue out from between her teeth and licked it, saying, "You're lying. You must have taken care of yourself a lot back home, right? It tastes exactly like you." I laughed and patted her head, saying, "You know so much." She pouted at me, clearly dissatisfied. The performance went smoothly, but who could have known that such a solemn performer was such a despicable person?

She secretly tied the helium balloons used at the party to my hat, ignoring the strange looks from others, while she chuckled. A gust of wind blew, and I discovered the secret. Ten years old, I think, probably considered a young girl.

I told my roommates I was going on a trip. That's what she said. It was undoubtedly a trap. Although I had included her in my plans, I never expected her to be so proactive. This caught me off guard. The girl's scheming made me feel terrified, so I had no choice but to go to a hotel. Since I hadn't eaten yet, I bought some food and drinks on the way.

The water was warm, and I spilled it on myself. I don't usually drink or smoke, so it was expected that I couldn't hold my liquor. Warm water poured over my head, just like I do at home. The difference was, a girl born in 1996 was kneeling beneath me, making smacking noises as she swallowed my penis. I rested my hands on the towel rack, tilted my head back to face the water, closed my eyes, and savored the moment. I felt it was a real shame I didn't smoke; otherwise, lighting a cigarette might have made me even more decadent. I pulled her up, her long, wet hair flowing, and held her in my arms, resting my chin on the top of her head. I knew I should kiss her, but I really didn't want to kiss my genitals indirectly—that's what being a jerk is all about.

I couldn't resist such tender flesh. Compared to me, she was so small, like a toy. I felt I could easily wrap my arms around her waist. 17 centimeters wasn't long, but it seemed inappropriate against her body; I was afraid of hurting her. She lay on the bed, legs spread, reaching out to me. I hesitated, finding this girl, who had long since lost her virginity, unfathomable. She seemed to see through my thoughts, saying I was clean. I took it as a joke, or perhaps the alcohol had truly numbed my senses. As she grabbed my penis and guided it towards her opening, I thrust forward, penetrating it completely. Yes, no condom. I bent down and embraced her small body, my hips moving rhythmically. She tried to suppress her moans, the room filled with the sound of water. I didn't like that sound; it was like wet rubber shoes, splashing, splashing. So I thrust harder, the sound of water being drowned out by the thud of flesh against flesh, along with her soft moans.

If we're talking about excitement, it wasn't the unprotected ejaculation after taking the pill, nor the cubicle restroom in the school library, nor the various dog leashes and bondage/discipline activities, but rather her spending the night at my house.

Our relationship was purely physical, not emotional; aside from sex, our contact seemed to have no other purpose. After all, she was an undergraduate, I was a graduate student, and we didn't have much interaction. That day, my parents went on vacation, and I posted on social media. She saw it, and when she messaged me again, she was already at the entrance of my apartment complex (I had pointed her out once when I passed by my complex on my way to a hotel). That night was the craziest, because my parents had just left, and maybe because I forgot something. The next morning, I saw her off, feeling that this girl had exhausted me both physically and mentally. However, besides being fucked, she didn't ask for anything else; she said she liked being fucked by me.

Later, in bed, she told me she was in love, a boy who treated her well and came from a wealthy family. She mocked him for being small-breasted and incompetent, saying she would cheat on him and have my children. I smiled silently, closed my eyes, and listened to her sucking on that root of desire that she couldn't stop.

In the end, we lost contact. I met that boy; from his expression, I knew he loved her, so why bother her? She was probably the friend I met the most times, even though I never loved her as a person.

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freshman junior sister

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