My sister who taught me to draw

During the Cultural Revolution, I was still a teenager. My parents went to a rural cadre school, leaving only my grandmother to take care of my younger sister and me. School was infrequent, so we kids spent our days playing wildly.

One day, I was playing soccer in a classmate's dormitory courtyard. We were having a great time when suddenly someone kicked the ball, sending it flying diagonally and shattering a window in a two-story house next door. The ball fell inside, and a loud shout came from inside: "Who's there?!"

My friends scattered like birds. The soccer ball was mine, a luxury in those days. I looked at it, then steeled myself and went to get it back. I went up to the second floor, knocked on the door, and a woman around 20 years old opened it. I lowered my head and quickly apologized: "Auntie, I'm sorry."

She stared at me for a moment and said, "Come in." So I went inside. Entering the room, I saw broken glass scattered on the windowsill, a ball in the center, and sketches, watercolors, and oil paintings on the walls. I picked up the ball and eagerly flattered her, "Auntie, you paint? You paint so well!"

She smiled slightly, and I quickly added, "Auntie, actually, I paint too." She said, "Really? Show me."

So I picked up a pen and started drawing on a piece of white paper. I usually sketched from comic books during my free time in class, so I drew a few characters from the comic book series *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*. She examined them for a while and said, "The shapes are quite accurate, but you lack basic skills." Then she took out the complete set of *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* comic books.

Ah! In those days, this was a treasure! I became even more eager to borrow her books. She was happy to oblige, but said I could read them there, but couldn't take them away.

I sat down, picked up the book, and started reading. After a while, I looked up and saw she was drawing me. I stood up to look, and she sketched me in just a few strokes. I exclaimed sincerely, "Auntie, you draw so well! Teach me!"

She said, "Don't call me 'Auntie,' call me 'Sister.' If you're willing to learn, I'll teach you."

Only then did I look at her closely. She wasn't tall, had short hair, almond-shaped eyes, two dimples, and wore a blue shirt and pants with black cloth shoes.

Later, I learned that she was only 19 years old. Her parents had gone to a cadre school, her brother had gone to the Great Northern Wilderness, and she had graduated from junior high school at 16 and been assigned to work in a cotton mill. She had been learning to draw from her father since she was little, and originally wanted to go to art school, but now she couldn't. She worked shifts, and during the day, I could come to read and learn to draw at her home.

From then on, I often went to her place, and sometimes I would eat there. Although I was only 13 years old, I was already almost 1.7 meters tall. Sometimes she would ask me to be her model, and she would draw me, and I would draw her too.

One day at noon, she was cooking in the kitchen when I was looking through her artwork. Suddenly, I saw several nude drawings she had made of herself. My eyes widened, and I examined them closely. When I heard her come out, I quickly put them away.

That afternoon, I couldn't concentrate. I rushed home, closed the door, and her nude figure kept flashing before my eyes. I ejaculated, but I didn't know what it was—it was white and sticky, but it felt incredibly pleasurable.

The next day, my sister came home from her night shift and told me to draw something while she took a nap. So I found her nude drawings again and started copying them on paper.

Suddenly, I was hit hard on the head. My sister, her face full of anger, tore my drawing to shreds and yelled, "You little rascal, you're not learning anything good!"

I quickly said, "Sister is so beautiful, I wanted to draw her."

Her expression softened a bit, and after thinking for a moment, she said, "Then you'll have to be punished. Here's what you'll do: take off your clothes so I can draw you."

Afraid of making her angry, I quickly took off my clothes, but hesitated when I was down to my underwear. My sister glared at me, so I had no choice but to take them off too. Standing there naked, I covered my genitals with my hands. My sister laughed. She posed me and then drew me with charcoal. When she finished, she showed me. I pointed to my genitals and said shyly, "This looks awful." My sister laughed and rubbed them into a black blob.

After that, I became my sister's nude model. My drawing skills improved rapidly. When I drew my sister's portrait, I deliberately emphasized her nipples, and my sister wasn't angry anymore. But I often dreamed of my sister's naked body at night, and then I would have nocturnal emissions.

My sister gave me the house key. She worked during the day, and I could go to her house to read and draw. There weren't many books available back then, but my sister's house had what were called the "Four Olds" of the past, including Tang and Song poetry, as well as "The Song of Youth," "The Young Guard," and "And Quiet Flows the Don."

I would often kiss her underwear when she wasn't home, especially the ones she hadn't washed after changing, and draw her naked body based on my imagination. I would often ejaculate while drawing.

The weather was getting hotter and hotter. One day, my sister was drawing my naked body again. I saw that she was wearing a work uniform, with the sleeves rolled up almost to her shoulders, and it seemed like she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her trouser legs were also rolled up above her knees.

I mustered my courage and said, "Sis, this isn't fair. You always draw me naked, so I should be the one drawing you naked too."

"Get lost, you little rascal!" she cursed, poking my forehead with her finger, but she wasn't angry. I then pleaded, "Sis, just let me draw you this once."

My sister hesitated for a moment, then slowly unbuttoned her clothes. Ah, she really wasn't wearing anything underneath. A pair of small but round breasts were revealed, with two small nipples standing erect. She took off her pants too, and I asked in surprise, "Why is your pubic hair curly, while mine is straight?"

"It'll be curly when you grow up." My sister was a little shy. I was dizzy at that moment, knelt down and hugged my sister tightly, burying my head in her chest. She struggled, but I held her tightly. Her breathing became more and more rapid, and she gave up resisting. She gently lifted my head and put her lips on mine. I kissed her back, rubbing my body against her chest. My sister rubbed her body against me too.

I forgot how we got into bed, I only remember seeing a bloody mess down there.

My sister gently wiped my genitals with her own underwear, whispering, "Tired? It's my fault, I'm such a hooligan." I hugged her and silenced her with a kiss.

I drifted off to sleep for a while, then opened my eyes to find my sister propping her head up with one arm, looking at me. We were covered by a blanket. I reached under the blanket and touched her. Ah! She was still naked. This time she didn't resist, letting my hand caress her body. My hand lingered on her breasts, slowly touching them. Seeing her blinking her almond-shaped eyes at me, I boldly began to fondle her breasts. She trembled slightly but didn't resist. Her hand also grasped my penis. I grew bolder, moving my hand down to touch thick pubic hair, then further down to the cleft. She slightly parted her legs, letting me caress her. Then my sister groaned and clamped my hand between her legs. I felt my hand getting wet and tried to pull it out, but she clamped it even tighter. So I continued to tease her with my fingers and brought my head close to her breasts, taking one nipple into my mouth.

"No, I can't give you any more," my sister said breathlessly, while tightly gripping my hand, rubbing her legs together, and constantly stroking my genitals. I took the opportunity to push her down, and I felt there was nothing more wonderful in the world.

After we finished, we put on our clothes. My sister wouldn't look at me. We were silent for a while, and then she said, "Go home, and don't come back again."

I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how.

Two days later, I couldn't resist any longer and went to my sister's house. I unlocked the door, and my sister was standing in the doorway. She hugged me tightly and kissed me passionately. I hugged her back, kissing her as I unbuttoned her clothes, and she unbuttoned mine.

We moved to the bed, and I pinned my sister down. Her limbs wrapped tightly around me, her back arched, and she scratched bloody welts on my back.

That day, we spent the whole day in bed, skipping lunch. We slept whenever we were tired, and made love whenever we woke up. We explored each other's bodies. She had thick armpit hair and a strong body odor, so she wore thick clothes even in the summer, but I thought it smelled the best in the world. Later, when we were intimate, I always liked to nuzzle under her armpits. She laughed and said, "Aren't you afraid of overpowering yourself?" I said, "I just love the smell."

Back then, condoms were provided by the workplace and were free. My friends had a lot, so I traded them comic books. They asked me what I would use them for, and I said I would blow up balloons.

My sister was afraid of making a sound, so she always bit her lip and groaned through her nose. Sometimes she would bite me; once she bit my arm, leaving deep teeth marks. When Grandma saw this, she thought I had been fighting with other children and had been bitten, and she gave me a good scolding.

From then on, whenever I went to my sister's house, we would first be affectionate, then we would read or draw. My sister would teach me other subjects, and we would be affectionate again before I went home. Sometimes, after we were affectionate, we would lie naked on the bed and read. When I got tired of reading, I would lean down and kiss her body, from her chest to her toes, then upwards, finally stopping between her legs. She would squeeze tightly, and I would use my nose and mouth to nudge her, breathing hot air into her until she gave in.

Sometimes, my sister would also gently caress my body with her breasts, then thrust her breasts against my genitals from side to side.

Once, my sister posed for me to draw, and I saw bright red blood flowing from her genitals. We had just been intimate, and I was terrified: "Sister, I hurt you! You're bleeding!"

My sister blushed, quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe herself, and said, "Don't talk nonsense, I'm in trouble." From then on, I understood the female anatomy. My

sister was very studious, and she encouraged me to study, so although I didn't attend many classes, my studies didn't suffer.

My sister worked two days of early shift, two days of middle shift, and two days of night shift at the cotton mill, with two days off. I only went to school on the days she worked the middle shift and the days she finished her first night shift. If she worked the early shift, I would skip school in the afternoon and wait for her to come home. If she finished her second night shift, I would sneak over to her house around 10 a.m. My sister would sleep for a while after getting home from her night shift, but she would always be naked and waiting for me. I would quietly climb into her bed and slip into her blankets. My sister would be half asleep, her body softly responding to me. Gradually, she would become more awake, until she was excited, then gentle, and then we would fall asleep in each other's arms.

What I looked forward to most was my sister's rest. We'd spend the whole day at her house, neither of us wearing clothes. My sister never refused me. We explored countless positions—we didn't even need to learn them; we used almost all the positions you see in adult films back then. And the bed, table, bench, chair, floor, bedroom, study, kitchen, bathroom—everywhere was our battlefield. When we got home, I was so exhausted I could barely climb the stairs, but a good night's sleep would make me energetic again.

I was especially excited when she had her period. I wouldn't let her wear clothes or pants; I loved watching the blood flow from her genitals, down her inner thighs, sometimes even reaching her feet. Then, she'd softly ask if I'd seen enough. If I said no, she'd sigh, sit opposite me, spread her legs, completely exposing her menstrual-blood-soaked genitals, and say petulantly, "Look, look, I'll let you see." But her eyes held a smile.

After a while, my sister would ask me again, "How was it? Have you seen enough?"

I would quickly say, "Okay, I've seen enough now, but I want to see more later."

My sister would then come up and kiss me with a smile, and then put on her menstrual belt. Back then, there were no sanitary napkins like we have now. Women used cloth belts with long strips of toilet paper on top, tied around their waists. When my sister was wearing only a narrow strip of cloth tied around her crotch, I felt particularly aroused (the so-called thongs that are popular now might have originated from this). So, my sister would kneel down and suck me between my legs. I was very naughty back then, and I would stick out my foot, using my toes to pull off my sister's menstrual belt, and then tease her genitals. My sister would often breathe rapidly at this time, and sometimes even tremble all over. Then she would sit down with my toes aligned with hers, letting part of my big toe enter her body. I would stir my toes and insert them into her. My sister would often lie on my legs, accepting my mischievous behavior. When I ejaculated, I could spray her face and head. Later, my sister even gave me a blowjob, and I would ejaculate on her breasts.

In bed, I pressed my head against my sister's chest, rubbing her breasts. Suddenly, she screamed as if pricked by a needle, and abruptly pushed me away. Not knowing what had happened, I quickly sat up to look at her. I saw her gasping for breath, squeezing one of her nipples, and a large drop of blood came out.

Seeing my bewildered expression, she laughed and said, "It's alright, you little rascal, a stubble of your hair got stuck in my nipple."

Hair stubble is very hard; sometimes even barbers would accidentally prick their hands. Back then, we children all had short, buzz cuts, so the stubble was very short. After that, my sister would often hold my head and rub it against her nipples, deliberately trying to prick her breast with my hair stubble. If it did, she would gasp and hold my head tightly, letting the stubble remain stuck in her nipple for a long time, her whole body trembling slightly. Many years later, I read in a book about an ancient Chinese form of torture specifically for female prisoners: using a thick pig bristle to poke the female prisoner's nipple.

My sister and I often went to the Summer Palace to sketch. Back then, the entrance fee was 20 cents, which was quite expensive for my sister, who only earned a little over 30 yuan a month, because painting required buying paints, paper, and so on, which was quite costly. But with me around, we would ride our bikes to the north wall of the Summer Palace, lock and hide them, and have my sister climb up the wall on my shoulders. Then I would find a tree to climb, jump over the wall, and have my sister climb down on my shoulders again. Sometimes we would also go to the north of Xizhimen to sketch a flour mill. The flour mill was surrounded by farmland, and the towering warehouses looked like an ancient European castle.

In the summer, we would ride our bikes along the river behind the Summer Palace, sketching the countryside, the mountains, the water, and the big trees. There were hardly any people around. When it got hot, we'd swim in the river. I loved diving between my sister's legs like a fish, slipping my hands under her swimsuit. We made love in the fields, in the woods, and under bridges; that sneaky, trembling feeling was uniquely exciting. Later, my pubic hair actually became curly.

My family had very low expectations of me at the time, as long as I didn't get arrested by the workers' militia (the police weren't involved then; maintaining social order relied on the workers' militia, and the police couldn't hit people, but the militia could, so everyone was afraid of them). They were happy to see me learning to draw and also studying academics, thinking that having a skill would prevent me from being sent to the countryside.

When the college entrance exam was reinstated, we studied hard. I wanted to apply for art with my sister, but my family insisted I study engineering, saying that mastering math, physics, and chemistry would make me fearless anywhere in the world. We both got into university. My sister went to the Academy of Arts and Crafts. That year, many master-level figures emerged from various art academies, such as Cheng Danqing and Yang Yifei, all of whom were admitted to art academies across the country after the resumption of the college entrance examination.

During the summer vacation before school started after receiving our acceptance letters, we were together almost every day. I said, "Let's get married after I graduate." My sister said, "You'll meet a good girl in the future."

After starting school, we saw each other less often, and my sister got a boyfriend. I couldn't stand the loneliness and had a relationship with a woman older than me. That woman was arrested by the police for hooliganism, and I also received a major demerit from the school.

After graduation, I was assigned to a clothing factory and had a relationship with one of my female mentors for a while. Later, I went abroad to study, and when I returned to China, my sister already had a lovely daughter.

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My sister who taught me to draw

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