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Memories of colored underwear 

    page views:1  Publication date:2023-03-24  
Memories of Red Underwear:
That year I was in Form Four, but because I hadn't started growing taller yet, I was short and always stood at the front of the class.
The PE teacher was tall and imposing, and perhaps because he spent so much time teaching on the playground, his skin was like chocolate. During PE class, he would occasionally demonstrate, and we would sit on the sun-baked playground to watch. When I looked up at him, he seemed like a giant, the volleyball in his hands seemingly under his control. When he demonstrated the bouncing motion of a spike, I, sitting in the front row, could vaguely see the red underwear hidden under his white shorts.
The PE teacher didn't sit with the other teachers. In the room where the sports equipment, such as balls and dumbbells, were kept, there was a desk. When the PE teacher didn't have classes, he would hide in his little world. The front door of the room faced the playground, but it was always closed to prevent students from taking sports equipment without permission. The other side of the room was the only lawn. A curtain hung in front of the window, serving as a notice board to let us know whether the room's owner was inside.
One afternoon, I was kept after school for failing my English dictation. I repeated the dictation over and over again until the English teacher was satisfied. When I was allowed to leave, it was already dusk; all the teachers and students had left, and the campus was deathly silent.
Normally, the school lawn was off-limits; stepping on it was forbidden. Perhaps because I was in a bad mood, or perhaps out of rebellious spirit, I deliberately stepped inside and stomped on it a few times.
The birds chirping overhead were incredibly irritating; I wanted to pick up a pebble and throw them all down!
I wandered dejectedly across the grass. As I passed the room where the sports equipment was stored, I noticed the curtains by the window weren't drawn. My heart skipped a beat; if they found out I'd stepped onto the lawn, I'd be scolded again!
The room was dark, but in the dim light, I could see the PE teacher was still there! He was shirtless and bending down to take off his white shorts. If I had run away immediately, I could have escaped, but I was captivated by those familiar yet mysterious red briefs, staring intently. Finally, I had a chance to see clearly; this scene had flashed through my mind a thousand times.
Suddenly, as if realizing I was being watched, the teacher abruptly looked up. My palms immediately began to sweat, and my legs trembled. The teacher stared at me, his gaze piercing, but said nothing. After a while, he drew a semicircle with his hand, gesturing for me to turn towards the playground.
My heart pounded, but I had no choice but to follow his instructions and walk towards the playground. In that brief minute, I considered running away, but I feared the consequences might be even more severe. When I arrived at the playground, the teacher was back in his usual attire, wearing white shorts. He stood with his hands clasped at the door of the room, waiting.
"Run ten laps, then come in."
I had no choice but to blame my bad luck. Just as I was about to put down my backpack, another instruction came.
"Run with your back to the room!"
At that moment, I felt that this was not only a punishment for my violation, but also a way to settle a personal score. Ten laps was already enough to kill someone, and now it was even more grueling. With a belly full of resentment, I finally managed to run those ten laps. While running, I kept an eye out for whether the teacher came out of the room to monitor me. I wasn't sure if he was secretly watching me when I ran with my back to the room, but my intuition told me that he was hiding inside the whole time, which is why the laps kept getting smaller and smaller.
After completing the task, I walked breathlessly into the teacher's room, awaiting my fate. I thought those ten circles were enough for me; I should be able to go no matter what.
The light was still off, but the curtains were now drawn, plunging the room into darkness. I followed instructions and casually closed the door. My eyes weren't used to the darkness immediately, but I knew from the sound that the teacher was not far in front of me. After slowly adjusting to the dim environment, I began to see the teacher's silhouette. It turned out he had moved the chair to the center of the room, just a few steps away from me.
"Sit on the floor, as close as possible."
The teacher suddenly leaned forward, placed his hands on my shoulders, and with a flick of his wrists, my backpack slid to the floor. The teacher then pressed my head against his lower abdomen, my chin stimulated by some hairy things. I then realized the teacher wasn't wearing underwear.
"Hold it in your hand, put it in your mouth,"
the teacher guided me with his hand. I grasped the already erect thing in my hand, noticing the oozing of fluid at the tip. I slowly and carefully sucked, feeling the teacher's breath quicken on my face. He gestured for me to speed up, so I sucked harder, the thing swelling further, filling my mouth. The teacher's hands remained on my shoulders, his fingers digging deeply into my muscles.
Suddenly, the teacher howled, his hips convulsing back and forth, and the thing ejaculated into my throat.
I didn't know what to do; the thing slowly softened and slipped out of my mouth.
"Don't spit it out, swallow it."
So I swallowed the semen that had gathered in my throat in one gulp. The teacher placed his hand on my head and gently stroked it, as if to express his appreciation.
When I got home and took a shower, I found that my underwear was also damp and sticky. That night, I slept very soundly, perhaps because I was too tired.
At the opening ceremony the following year, the principal introduced us to the new physical education teacher. And so, I said goodbye to the days of red underwear.

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