[Past Events Like the Wind] Author: Unknown

Memories Like the Wind
Author: Unknown
Word Count: 4518 words
My name is Chen Lei. I was born into a farming family with relatively good conditions. I
was more sensible than other girls and always studied hard, entering high school at the age of fifteen.
I started high school at the town's middle school, but after my second year of high school, my father thought my grades were quite good
and sent me to the county high school so I could focus on improving my efficiency and getting into a good university. It was then that
I realized I had grown up.
At that time, I was seventeen years old, still a very introverted and shy farm girl. In just a few years, my height
increased dramatically to 1.68 meters, my weight reached 102 kilograms, and my measurements were 89-62-92, all
exceeding those of other girls.
My chest was already quite full, and my hips were also quite large, but my waist remained slender.
The clothes I wore before were now somewhat small and tight, but I loved wearing them and couldn't bear to throw them away, so I continued to wear them
.
Arriving in the city, the world here is truly beautiful. The girls in the city schools all wear pure white
short-sleeved shirts and sky-blue skirts; they look so pretty. But in our town's middle school, students are
n't allowed to wear skirts at all. Their open-mindedness is nowhere near that of the city, which really surprised me.
At first, I couldn't accept it, but gradually I blended in with them. I
also got a short-sleeved shirt and skirt from the school's general affairs office because school regulations require students to wear uniforms.
This set is the slightly narrow style I like; the buttons on the chest fit perfectly, the length is just right
, and the skirt's waist size matches my waist perfectly, so I don't need a belt. Just zip it up and fasten the buckle,
and it's OK.
Perhaps it's because the clothes are well-made, or perhaps it's because of my figure, but the school uniform fits me perfectly,
outlining my curves beautifully, making my figure even more alluring and my appearance even more striking.
My chest was quite high and firm; sometimes when I walked quickly, I could feel it jiggle, especially
when going down the stairs. My breasts felt like two little rabbits bouncing inside my bra (to reduce the impact, I usually held my books
against my chest to gently support them).
When I appeared on campus in this school uniform, many classmates looked at me strangely, especially
the boys who were all clicking their tongues. I felt my face turn red, and I just kept my head down, using my long hair to cover
my face as I walked into the classroom.
When I sat down, I heard many classmates talking about me, but I pretended not to hear anything.
My fame gradually increased, and boys started pursuing me. There were often love
letters in my drawer and books, and some even boldly asked me directly. I rejected them without thinking.
I read a few of the initial letters; they were all filled with sentimental phrases, pieced together from who-knows-where, and riddled with typos
. Later, I simply tore them up and threw them away. I was too busy studying to care, and I didn't plan to
read them again.
Back then, I instinctively hated those things and never thought about having a boyfriend. I just wanted to focus on my studies
(actually, I hadn't met a boy I liked yet).
The girls in my class envied me, but the boys thought I was arrogant and gradually became indifferent to me. I didn't care
what they thought.
Besides the three regular classes every day, evening self-study, and three meals, I didn't have much free time
. I would occasionally go to the playground to relax.
That day, I watched the boys in my class play basketball. A boy named Wang Xinghua caught my attention. He was
of average appearance, about 1.75 to 1.8 meters tall, wearing a sports vest. His arm muscles were bulging
. Whether dribbling, passing, or shooting, his movements were natural, agile, and light. I was attracted to him and
went to the playground more often after that.
Once, I was with a few girls, squeezed into a small group of people watching them play basketball. He stole the ball
, and it flew towards me.
He rushed over to pick it up, and due to the force of the impact, I fell to the ground. His elbow hit my chest
, causing a sharp pain. A strong smell of sweat wafted over, and he quickly dropped the basketball, pulled me up, and asked if I was
alright. I crossed my arms, lowered my head, and said I was fine. Only then did he go back to playing basketball.
I couldn't stand still any longer and ran straight to the dormitory. My chest was still throbbing. I unbuttoned my short-sleeved
shirt and pulled down my vest, discovering a red
welt just above my breasts, which had almost bled. Accompanied by two female classmates, I went to a nearby clinic to have it treated.
After class that evening, he called me to the playground, apologized earnestly, and carefully inquired about my injury.
How could I tell him about my chest injury? I casually said it was nothing, blaming him for worrying too much. He
seemed relieved at first.
I was very close to him, and in the dim moonlight, I carefully examined him. His eyes were bright and inexplicably
trustworthy; his eyebrows were thick and bushy; his nostrils were high, and sweat was beading on his nose; his lips were
full. He, however, avoided eye contact, perhaps a little shy.
I memorized his face. Back in my dorm, lying in bed, I recalled that scene on the playground. He reached out and pulled me,
and I naturally placed my hand in his. His hand was warm and large… I quietly drifted off to
sleep.
Afterward, every night after class, he would come to ask how my chest was, if it was better. His voice was very soft;
I could only hear him when I was very close. Then he would fall silent. We probably developed feelings for each other. He
was so brave and tenacious on the basketball court, cheering and jumping for joy, but with me, he was very restrained. I, on the other hand, would constantly ask him questions. Gradually,
we talked more, and I learned about his family situation.
He's an only child, and both his parents work for the county government. Of course, I like him not because of his family's wealth, but because he's
very polite and warm. He doesn't talk much, but every word he utters is perfectly chosen, and he's never sloppy. He
says it's a trait he inherited from his father.
Every evening after class, I would naturally walk towards the playground with a few books in my arms, just like I do every day when I return to my dormitory.
I got used to it, and he was there almost every night. We became familiar with each other, talking about everything—studies, life,
the future…
I discovered we shared many similar views, and I was so glad to have met such a boyfriend (at the time,
that was pretty good).
Time flew by, and we stayed together until the second semester of our senior year. Neither of us was affected in our studies
, and nothing out of the ordinary happened; at most, we just hugged.
The college entrance exam was approaching, and I was a little scared, not of doing poorly, but of being separated. Because of his
parents' expectations, he could only apply to any university in Beijing, and he had to leave because his whole family was
moving there. Of course, I wanted to be with him.
It was already May, and the weather was getting hot. Since we were about to graduate, the school was
very lenient with us. I stopped wearing the school uniform and instead wore my old favorite t-shirts and jeans, found my
still-new open-heeled, breathable sneakers, and added white short socks—my most ordinary and common outfit
.
We made the most of our last moments together, meeting on the playground every night. That afternoon, we sat
on the grass, using our notebooks as cushions. I naturally pulled my feet out of my shoes, exposing them to the air. I leaned against him, my hands on my
shoulders. After a while, he said, "Your feet are so beautiful!" I
asked in surprise, "What's so beautiful about smelly feet?"
"No, it's not. The moment your feet appeared in front of me today, I thought they were beautiful."
"Is that so?"
"Of course! I love looking at your feet."
Hearing this, I turned around, and he took the opportunity to pull my feet into his lap and admire them. I was
a little surprised, but I let him admire them.
I looked at him with the same rapt attention as a collector finding an antique, and slowly, I even started
to stroke them with my hands.
"Do you like wearing stockings?" he asked.
"I wouldn't say I like them, it's just that it's too hot, I can't exactly wear cotton socks."
"It's hot, you can go without socks.
" "I don't like wearing shoes barefoot."
"Do you wear stockings with sandals?"
"Of course! Sandals usually rub, so wearing socks makes it fine."
"What color stockings do you like?"
"White or flesh-colored, I like any light color."
"Your feet feel so nice, so smooth!" he said, touching them.
I was puzzled by his actions, but also relieved; it was the first time someone had complimented my feet.
"What color stockings do you like girls to wear?" I asked, following his lead.
"I love sheer, flesh-colored stockings."
"Wow... that's exactly what I like!" I was surprised and continued, "Why do you like them like this
?"
"I like that hazy feeling, the beauty of being both close and distant. Flesh-colored is
a color that most young people like, it's pure. The thinner the stockings, the more I like them, they're sexy."
Soon, every inch of my feet was wantonly and recklessly invaded by him.
While he was talking, his hands weren't idle, his index and middle fingers gently pressing
on the "Yongquan" acupoint on the sole of my foot.
I shuddered, feeling a thin warmth spreading from the sole of my foot, then traveling
up the meridians of my calf and thigh, my lower limbs immediately becoming tingly and numb, almost uncontrollably trembling. But for some
reason, I also felt a warm and pleasant sensation.
I suddenly found myself panting, my entire sole feeling as if it were melting from the heat. Worst of all
, deep down I felt a strange longing, a yearning for his caresses and teasing, wishing those hateful
fingers could forever roam over my sole.
Just as I was beginning to feel a surge of desire, he abruptly stopped. I lifted my toes, boldly playing with
the back of his hand, blinking my eyes, smiling sweetly, and saying, "I don't know what you're after."
His hand began to move again; he slowly rolled up my trouser leg, revealing a section of my smooth, jade-like calf.
As he gently and skillfully employed his teasing techniques, my entire body sank into a blissful, oblivious state.
My body went limp and I collapsed into his arms, murmuring, "What,
haven't you had enough yet?"
"Do you like wearing skirts?" " Of course!" 　　"Do you like short skirts?" "
Yes 　　." 　　"Do you wear pantyhose with short skirts?" " 　　Of course, without exception." " 　　I can't imagine how beautiful you would look in a short skirt and pantyhose!" " 　　Do you like me wearing short skirts and pantyhose?" 　　"I love it! " 　　"I'll definitely wear them sometime." 　　The college entrance exams were over in the blink of an eye, and we both felt our results were good. Now we could finally relax. I didn't 　　rush home. That day, we went out for a walk. I showered beforehand, changed into white, breathable, lace-trimmed panties 　　, took out light flesh-colored, ultra-thin, transparent pantyhose and wrapped them around my legs, then put on a sky-blue short silk skirt and green 　　high-heeled strappy sandals. I wore a white tank top and a white, thin, semi-transparent short-sleeved top as an outer layer 　　. 　　When I stood before him, he was pleasantly surprised. "You look absolutely stunning! 　　I can't imagine how happy I am when my crush dresses up like this!" His expression was genuinely astonished, and I was surprised by 　　my own outfit. 　　Just as we were about to go for a walk, a darn thunderstorm broke out. He took my hand and said, "Let's go to my 　　place, it's close by. My parents are at work." I followed him, running towards his house. 　　After a sprint and a quick climb up four flights of stairs, I was almost out of breath. My clothes were soaked and clung 　　to my body. 　　"I'm a little cold," I told him. 　　He turned around and said, "Look at you, all soaked! How can you not be cold!"

"Wow, you're so sexy!" he said, staring at my heaving chest.
Suddenly, he rushed over and hugged me tightly, my breasts pressed against his chest. I felt like I was
suffocating, and before I could even cry out, his mouth covered mine.
His hands caressed my back, and I felt my pores open to the maximum. An unprecedented
comfort surged through my nerves, and I felt a little dizzy, desperately craving his touch. His hands moved,
moving to my armpits, and then slowly pressed against my breasts. My breasts immediately felt warm,
almost melting under his large, calloused hands. It was intoxicating.
"You're as soft as a sponge, it feels so good to hold you. Your breasts are so full and elastic!" My
mind was a little blurry; I felt like I was floating in mid-air.
He picked me up and placed me on his bed, took off my sandals, and caressed and kissed my feet and legs.
He pressed my feet against his crotch, rubbing something hard and thick against the soles of my feet. He unzipped his
pants, pulled down his trousers, revealing his tight underwear, and his erection was already visible.
His mouth explored upwards along my legs, lifting my short skirt. "Your panties are so cute!"
He kissed my crotch area directly, kissing every part covered by stockings.
His penis, through the thin stockings and underwear, pressed firmly against my crotch, making me feel incredibly
itchy. His hands pressed against my breasts, kneading them incessantly, slowly unbuttoning my shirt, a
cool sensation passing over my chest.
"Lei, I didn't expect you to be such a beauty, I'm so lucky!" he said, immediately kissing my breasts
. One of his hands secretly slipped inside my tank top and cupped one of my breasts, causing me
to twitch as if electrocuted.
My tank top was lifted up, exposing both breasts completely to the air.
"Your skin is so soft and white, so delicate and smooth! I'd die willingly even if I did."
He licked my nipple, and I closed my eyes, clinging tightly to his neck, immersed in blissful pleasure...
[The End]

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