She is more rational than driven by desire.

The story begins a few years ago. I don't know if this counts as my first time, but it's always been one of the most vivid memories I have.

Every time I relieved myself, I used the circumstances to reach climax.

It was right after I graduated from school. Back then, most people my age liked chatting in online chat rooms. There was a local chat room in our area, and I'd been chatting with a girl for a while. One time, I jokingly asked her out.

Surprisingly, she actually agreed.

She wasn't a stunning beauty, but she was definitely attractive. She was about 1.65 meters tall, with long hair, fair skin, and long, shapely legs. Although her jeans obscured her legs, her full, round buttocks always stirred my imagination. Her face was also very pleasing to the eye, and

she had a special charm. We spent the whole night out, and I suggested we come to my place (I lived alone at the time), and she agreed.

I had a computer at home, and she played on it the whole time. Back then, computers weren't as common as they are now.

Most people went to internet cafes, and having a computer at my place was probably one of the reasons she wanted to come.

So it was very late, and she still didn't want to leave. Finally, I said, "It's so late, why don't you stay here for the night?"

To my surprise, she agreed. I was overjoyed and started planning our next move. Actually, I didn't think much of it at the time, since I was young and didn't understand many things (adult films were rare back then).

My computer was right next to my bed, so I pretended to go to sleep and let her continue playing.

After a while, she probably got tired of playing and said she wanted to take a shower and go to bed. I got her a towel and toothbrush and then went back to bed pretending to be asleep. To her utter surprise, the moment she entered the bathroom and closed the door, I jumped out of bed, grabbed a small orange, and rushed to the balcony. Our shower room has a ventilation window, which is located on my balcony. The window isn't very high, so with just a small orange, I could see the entire shower room without being easily spotted (of course, I hadn't tried this before; it was only proven later). I watched as she slowly took off her top and pants, leaving only her underwear and bra. The underwear was semi-transparent with a little lace trim, and it was a matching set with the bra. I could vaguely see her sparse pubic hair.

Her skin was almost translucent white, like those actresses in shower gel commercials on TV. She stood in front of the mirror, looking herself up and down, touching herself, seemingly lost in her own world. (Actually, at this moment, I was the most intoxicated person; my mouth was watering and my nose was bleeding.) Finally, she slowly took off her bra. Her breasts were large and firm. I didn't quite know her size or how it was calculated, but they were really big. For a 16 or 17-year-old girl to have breasts like that was truly impressive.

Her nipples were probably pressed tightly by the bra, so I could barely see them. As if she understood my thoughts, she began to caress her breasts. Perhaps it was because she insisted on caressing them like this every day that she had such large breasts!

Slowly, her nipples swelled up, almost pink and the size of soybeans.

She slowly began to tease her nipples, her ears gradually turning red, and her breathing becoming rapid. Actually, she wasn't the only one enjoying it; I was also enjoying the super visual impact, except I didn't scream. After caressing her

like this for a while, she started to tie up her hair to prepare for a shower. (To this day, I still don't know if she was being horny or just working on her breasts.) The moment she raised her hand to tie her hair, her raised hand and her firm breasts formed the most beautiful curves of a woman. (I think these are the most beautiful curves of a woman.) After tying her hair, she started showering.

Because of the showerhead, she was facing me while showering, and at that moment, we were less than a meter apart. But because of our positions, she probably couldn't see me, but I could see her completely.

Speaking of which, you might have noticed that she hadn't taken off her underwear yet. Yes, she really is the kind of person who showers without taking off her underwear (I am one too). As she washed her body, she occasionally touched her breasts. Because of the hot water, her skin slowly turned pink—no, it should be a rosy pink—incredibly alluring.

After wetting her body, she slowly started lathering herself with soap.

Oh my god, she actually put the soap in her underwear and rubbed it vigorously for a while. (I usually just rub my face with soap, so how could I bear it when she did this!) After rubbing off the soap, she slowly started lathering, creating a body full of bubbles. My eyes widened even more; each burst bubble seemed to bring me a surprise.

She started rubbing her underwear, putting her hand inside for a moment—I don't really know what she did.

Just then, she suddenly pulled her underwear off. (So clever, she saved herself the trouble of washing her underwear.) My eyes were numb from staring all night, but finally, the main event of the night arrived. Damn

those bubbles… She kept touching her breasts. (If any girls see this, they should learn something; breast enhancement products are definitely not as effective as this.) Finally, it was time to rinse. (Honestly, staring like that was exhausting, and I didn't want to miss a single second, making it even more tiring.) I finally got a full view of her vulva; her pubic hair was sparse, perhaps because it wasn't fully developed.

The sparse pubic hair did nothing to obscure her genitals. Her pink vulva, with small, slightly dark red labia, was slightly parted (perhaps due to her recent breast touching, causing a reaction in her genitals), seemingly waiting for my penetration. My penis was already incredibly erect, brimming with blood. At first, I masturbated a few times, then froze, afraid to move, lest I ejaculate and then it would be too late.

Then something even more unexpected happened: she took the showerhead and vigorously sprayed water on her vulva, while her other hand rubbed up and down between her labia. I could almost see her clitoris (not sure if it was).

Her breathing became rapid again, her mouth slightly open; she was undoubtedly enjoying herself.

I wondered how a 16 or 17-year-old girl could understand these things. Was she someone who frequented such places? I started to regret bringing her home, because I generally have a strong aversion to this type of woman.

Before I could finish, she had already started getting dressed.

It was the first time I'd ever seen a woman get dressed. She pulled a pair of white underwear from her bag, not as nice as the ones she'd changed out of (after a closer look, I realized they were paper underwear). I was truly impressed; perhaps I'd underestimated her. She clearly hadn't wanted to go home in the first place. I started to worry about whether leaving her at home was the right thing to do.

I didn't want to get myself into trouble. Overwhelmed with mixed feelings, I began to lose interest in her.

She quickly got dressed, and I hurriedly tidied everything up and went back to my room, pretending to be asleep. She came back to her room, walked over to me, and nudged me, saying, "Are you asleep? Can I get you a clothes hanger? I need to hang my clothes to dry." "I'll help you hang them," she said. "We use a wire to hang our clothes at home; you probably can't find it." I said, "I'm sorry! Could you take me there and tell me where it is?" She took out a pair of underwear and said very apologetically. No matter what, I couldn't refuse her voice. After hanging the clothes, I went back to my room and sat down to sleep. She was standing in front of me, silent. Suddenly, I knew what was going on.

"You sleep in the bed! I'll sleep on the sofa in the living room." I had previously been determined not to give up my room, but now I seemed to have lost all interest.

I grabbed a pillow and prepared to go to the living room, but she remained standing there.

"What's wrong? I can't possibly ask you to sleep on the sofa, can I?" I said with a smile.

"There's still room in the bed, how about we each sleep on one side? We can chat while we're at it," she said shyly.

This was completely different from sleeping in the bathroom. Perhaps everyone has their own side, a way to relax when no one else is around, especially when showering—it's a way to de-stress!

Even so, how could I possibly want to sleep in the living room! Actually, I didn't think much of it at the time. I understood that we probably hadn't reached the point of complete connection yet. I'd just keep her company and chat.

She slept against the wall, still wearing her daytime clothes; I guess she hadn't changed except for her underwear!

After chatting with her for a long time, I learned that her parents were arguing, and she couldn't stand the fight, so she told her family she'd stay at a classmate's house for the night and then went to an internet cafe! And that's how I met up with her… I realized I'd misunderstood her. I started to feel guilty. Thankfully, I didn't kick her out. I realized I was starting to fall in love with the girl sleeping next to me. Her background, her story, deeply moved me.

We chatted for a long time, and I guess she was tired. The conversation gradually thinned out. I, besides being moved, don't deny that I also harbored inappropriate thoughts about her. But I'm not the kind of person who spends all his time out and about; my understanding of sex is limited to erotic novels. I don't know how to tease her with words or actions. But this fire, I found, was starting to burn brighter and brighter. My hands started to wander.

I could clearly hear her breathing; perhaps she was asleep. So I boldly rolled over, placing my hand on her stomach—damn it! I missed my target (her breasts). I didn't dare make any big movements, afraid of waking her. Just then, she suddenly shifted her body, and I immediately pressed my hand against her breast. Even through her clothes and bra, the soft, yielding feeling spread throughout my body. I held that position for a long time, afraid to use it again, until my hand went numb. Then I remembered I should take it a step further, so I slowly moved my hand. Seeing that she didn't move, I boldly pulled, my palm covering her right breast, while my forearm pressed against her left. My fingers began to move slowly. I believe everyone can deeply feel this comfortable sensation the first time. My fingers gradually increased their pressure, but even with my forceful grip, she didn't react. Perhaps she was truly fast asleep. Then I began using both hands, constantly massaging her breasts. Seeing that she still didn't resist, how could I be satisfied with just touching her through her clothes? I slowly began to slip my hands inside her clothes. Her body temperature gave me a warm feeling, her skin was so smooth I could barely grasp it. Her breasts were large, and although her bra didn't completely cover them, it was very tight. I could only grope along the edge of the bra, unable to penetrate. I continued to caress her through the bra, quickly withdrawing my hands whenever I sensed any movement from her. Like a mouse stealing rice. I think most people's first time is like this!

She didn't resist at all, which emboldened me. I rolled over again, this time pressing my entire body against hers, and kissed her face, her ears, and even gently blew into them, just like I'd read in a book. Her breathing quickened, but she didn't push me away. However, when I reached for her lips, she clenched her teeth, preventing me from penetrating deeper. After many failed attempts, I slowly kissed her neck, one hand beginning to unbutton her blouse. Button after button, in the dim light, her snow-white skin was gradually revealed before my eyes. I kissed down her neck, following her breasts, not missing an inch of skin. I reached behind her to unhook her bra, but failed several times. I didn't know if my method was wrong, or if she was already prepared and had fastened it tightly. My hands roamed over her

body, my tongue constantly sucking and licking her skin from top to bottom and bottom to top. She still didn't resist; I didn't know if she was enjoying it or if she was too timid to resist. Since that's the case, might as well take advantage. I tried several times to unhook her bra, but failed each time. So I tried another method: pulling down the straps of her bra. Unexpectedly, her hands weren't cooperating; she only pulled a little, but it was enough for me to slip my hand inside her breast through the gap. With a forceful pull, her breasts were fully exposed before my eyes. Supported by the bra, they appeared even firmer and more alluring. Touching them felt far better than through her clothes. Her nipples were already hard, small, pinkish-red beans, clearly visible even in the dim light.

My mouth was constantly sucking and licking one breast, while my other hand caressed the other, and my genitals rubbed against her legs. This was my first time, a complete loss of control. She must have known about these actions, and I guessed she was awake, but she offered no resistance to such an attack from a stranger. Was she enjoying it, or was she terrified? I didn't think much about it at the time. She didn't resist; I could only move forward.

I slowly began to move my hand downwards, tracing her cleavage. She exuded a captivating fragrance, and her body temperature was higher than usual. Thankfully, it wasn't summer, or I would have been soaked. My hand began its assault on her lower body. Just as I tried to touch her lower body, she suddenly grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away, and she suddenly screamed. I was startled by her action. Was this her limit? My hand stopped; after all, it was my first time, and I wasn't so bold. When I returned my attention to her breasts, she remained obedient, completely still. Although further advances were stopped, the desire remained. I unzipped my pants, leaving only my underwear, and pounced on her, rubbing against her repeatedly. My swollen penis pressed against her stomach through her underwear. With each rub, I felt the urge to ejaculate, but because I regularly masturbated, I managed to control myself. Gradually, I couldn't bear the constant rubbing. I tossed my underwear aside and pulled out my penis. Having experienced such intense stimulation for the first time, my penis was incredibly swollen; I could clearly feel every ridge. I continued to pounce on her, kissing her face relentlessly, but she wouldn't let go of my teeth. My hands kept caressing her breasts, never stopping, and I still couldn't completely unhook her bra. My penis rubbed against her stomach, and with the lubrication from her secretions and her burning body, it became swollen and hard, like a burning stick. Soon, I couldn't hold back any longer and ejaculated. Her stomach, her bra, and her neck were covered in my hot semen. Exhausted, I didn't care about the semen and collapsed onto her, our bodies sticky with it. Strangely, she didn't resist.

After resting for a while, I got out of bed and wiped my penis and the semen off my body, then went to wipe hers. Taking this opportunity, I quickly slipped one hand inside her panties. Just as I touched her pubic hair, she pulled my hand back. But I could clearly feel that her vagina was already overflowing.

I continued to try to penetrate her several more times, but still without success. I understood that her rationality certainly outweighed her desire at that moment. Later, I chose to respect her wishes.

The next morning, she didn't say anything, and immediately went to take a shower. All I knew was that she was even more beautiful than the night before, her complexion more radiant. She asked me to take a picture of her and instructed me to develop two copies, one for her and one for myself.

The following night, she stayed at my house again, and the same thing happened; I still couldn't break through her defenses. Not long after, she dropped out of school and went to work in another city. After sending her the photo, I lost contact with her. But my story with her wasn't over. Perhaps it was fate, but many years later, we rekindled our connection.

[The End]

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She is more rational than driven by desire.

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