Gardenia in bloom

Gardenias in Bloom (1-2) Gardenias

in Bloom ( I

) Elementary 　　School Years

********** ... I was a very hard worker, so my grades were always among the top in the class. Back then, the top students were always girls, and girls studied harder than boys. I was an exception, so the teacher made me a class leader. Also, all the "leaders" in our class were girls, haha. (These are closely related to my elementary school experiences.) 　　Before fourth grade, I didn't have many memories related to sex. They're mostly just fragments. 　　Fragment one: 　　When I was little, I often went to my uncle's house to play. My aunt's niece (whom I'm not related to by blood) was also often there. The two of them often played house together. Sometimes, they would hide in the room and play games like . When they got really into it, they would take off their clothes and play rough with each other under the covers, haha. 　　Fragment two: 　　This is an embarrassing story. I remember in third grade, during recess, I went to the toilet. The toilet was behind the classroom; it was a dry toilet, but it was very clean, and there was even a large Chinese toon tree growing inside. I was squatting there , staring blankly at the leaves overhead, when two little girls rushed in. They froze, and I, both embarrassed and annoyed, yelled, "This is the men's restroom!" 　　The girls were calmer than me, even asking, "Then where's the women's restroom?" 　　I was almost fainting. "I don't know," I replied. 　　The two of them giggled and ran out. Haha, thinking about it now, they must have been first-year students since the start of the school year. Truly, young calves are not afraid of tigers. 　　Scene Three: 　　I forget which grade it was, but the school held a cross-country race, and we kids were dragged out to race around the lake. Afterwards , a large group of people were making a racket by the lake. One of the girls in my class probably needed to pee, and since there was no restroom in the wild, she squatted down on the embankment. When she stood up, I glanced at her casually. She was fair-skinned, hairless, and flawless . I remember it was winter, and the girl was wearing cotton pants (I was wearing them back then too, haha). 　　So many years have passed, but that glance is still firmly imprinted in my mind. It was truly a captivating sight. That little girl has grown into a beautiful woman and is now pursuing her doctorate in Beijing. 　　Scene Four: 　　My uncle's house was in a large courtyard, a typical northern Chinese dwelling. There was a public toilet behind the house, shared by men and women. Usually, a rope was tied at the entrance to indicate someone was inside. If someone wanted to use the toilet, they would call out at the door; someone of the same sex would enter, while someone of the opposite sex would wait a moment. 　　Once, while I was using the toilet, my aunt called out at the door. Hearing my voice (I was just a little kid) , she came in. She squatted about two meters away from me, urinating very quickly. When she stood up, I looked up saw a large, dark patch on her once-clean lower body. This completely changed my impression that girls shouldn't have any pubic hair. 　　According to Freud's theory, human behavior and thought (including dreams) are related to sex. Although modern psychology differs greatly from Freud's theory, from my own experience, these scenes related to sex are still vividly remembered, even though I had no conscious awareness of sex at the time. This shows that subconsciously, I had marked these things with special symbols and sealed them in my memory. At birth nature is good. 　　But by the fourth grade of elementary school, things had changed. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　(II) 　　Just then, my aunt called from next door, saying she was going out to buy groceries. She slammed the front door shut, leaving only the two of us at home. My cousin waited a moment, then said it was drafty and she was worried about catching a cold, so she asked me to close the small door to her room and then draw the curtains. Of course, I did as she said. 　　I ran back to bed, lay down, and my cousin said, "Let's play a game. You ride on my back, and I'll be your horse." I was overjoyed. I picked up my cousin's scarf from the bed, spread my legs, rode on her lower abdomen , put the scarf around her neck, and held the other end in my hand. 　　My cousin asked, "Ready?" I nodded. She grinned and used the mattress's elasticity to rhythmically thrust upwards. I grabbed the scarf and shouted, "Giddy up! Giddy up!" 　　After a few thrusts, she said she was tired. She said, "Rest on me for a bit." I obediently lay down . She spread her legs and clamped me tightly between them. Because of our height difference, my head was right against her chest, which was bouncy like two little rabbits. Curious, I tried to grab the "rabbits" with my hands. My cousin seemed a little annoyed; she stopped laughing and asked, "What are you doing?" 　　I mumbled, "Just want to play." 　　She chuckled, "What's so fun about that?" She then pulled me tightly into her arms, preventing me from moving. Her legs tightened, making it hard to breathe. I remember her hand slipping inside my underwear and gently rubbing my bottom. 　　The rain was still drizzling outside the window. I clearly heard my older cousin sigh. She asked me, "Little brother, do you like your sister?" 　　I said, "Of course." 　　Hearing this, she gently rubbed her cheek against mine a few times. She patted my back, "Get down, you're crushing me." 　　I jumped down and said, "I want an ice cream." 　　My sister happily said, "Come on, I'll buy you one." 　　This is a story from my childhood. It's strange, I've forgotten almost everything that happened at that age.

This one incident, however, remains vividly etched in my mind. At the time, I had no spontaneous
sexual awareness, but looking back now, it marks the beginning of my childhood sexual consciousness.

As I write this, many long-buried memories gradually become clear: the aftermath of my relationship with my cousin,
my lovely female classmates, my sexual fantasies about my aunt and the actions I took, my first love, my
romantic encounters and one-night stands—I feel it's necessary to share these with you, but I still
doubt whether my writing style will be well-received.

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