My Passion with an Art School Girl

The advent of computers has definitely appeased a large number of men like me. Since I first encountered them, I've had my share of romantic encounters; I'm truly grateful to be in the 21st century. However, one embarrassing thing is that I often don't know what the women look like, which can be quite disgusting. But overall, it still satisfies one's lust.

Not long ago, I had another romantic encounter. To be honest, Wan Hui is the most beautiful and of the highest quality among all the online friends I've dated: a painting student at an art academy. So when I first met her, I became very reserved. Although she had agreed to go to a hotel with me during our online chat, when I saw her—1.65 meters tall, 95 pounds, slender and tall, with beautiful long hair, a pretty oval face, and moist lips—I couldn't help but feel a little inferior. Plus, since I didn't know where the nearest hotel was, I could only suggest sitting at a nearby bar first. As I was chatting with her about serious topics while racking my brains to find a hotel nearby, her phone rang. The school was calling to tell her to come back for a meeting and return immediately. It seemed like finding a room was out of the question. Despite my disappointment, I still very politely took a taxi to send her back to school, asking as we parted, "If I ask you out again, will you come?" Her answer was concise yet perplexing: "Maybe 'maybe'." That sentence made me review my high school Chinese sentence structure and subject-verb-object judgment in the taxi ride home.

After that, I talked about this with a like-minded person. He also said he saw a woman with a devilish figure but also a devilish face every day. Unable to stand that disgusting face, he had his colleague call and lied to avoid her (ps: this person has high standards for women; if it were me, I'd definitely sleep with her first—it's all the same in the dark ^_^). At this point, I couldn't help but feel a chill: could my angelic-faced online friend have played the same trick? But since it was all over, I comforted myself by thinking that at least I'd acted like a gentleman and had a normal meeting.

A few days later, I drove past her school and couldn't help but send her a text message on my way back. Unexpectedly, her reply was: "You still remember me? I thought you'd forgotten me." It seems she must think I'm surrounded by admirers, and if she can't be found, someone else will naturally fill the void. This means she probably didn't just make an excuse to leave, but actually did something, and judging from her quick reply, she doesn't seem to dislike me. Haha, things are looking up.

What happened next accelerated the story even further. One morning, I received a joke about SARS and casually forwarded it to her. She quickly replied: "What are you doing?" I replied with a few witty remarks, nothing more than "I'm thinking of you" and other cheesy things. She countered with, "Is your wife not here? So arrogant!" I immediately laid out my entire plan: how to ask her out when my wife is here, and how to ask her out when she's not. Anyway, it was just texting, so I wasn't afraid to blush, hehe. She chuckled and replied, "What do you usually like to do with your wife?" Perfect timing! She steered the conversation towards sex herself, and now it was up to my thumb skills... As a result, we spent the entire morning texting each other about sex, from her favorite positions to her boyfriend's "quick finish"; from my first online date to my glorious May Day last year. Our topics were in-depth and wide-ranging, and our questions and answers were direct and sensitive. Although I desperately wanted to meet her right away, reason told me the opportunity wasn't ripe yet. However, when she said in her last message, "I'm going to paint now, sweetie, play by yourself," I knew this oil painting girl was definitely mine. (Sorry, dear readers, I've rambled on for so long without getting to the point, wasting your time, but since you've read so much, please be patient, the show is about to begin.) A few more days passed in my fantasies of meeting her. After unexpectedly waking up from my afternoon nap before 2 PM, I received a text message from her: "Let's meet this afternoon." After some internal struggle (whether to meet her or deal with work first), I decided to meet her. After all, opportunities like this, where a girl takes the initiative to ask you out, don't come around often.

This meeting was the result of extensive preparation, so I went straight to a three-star hotel I had researched beforehand, booked a room, bought condoms, and waited for her to arrive.

After an anxious wait, her figure, wearing a mask (SARS was rampant at the time), finally appeared in my view through the peephole. Just as she raised her hand to knock, I opened the door. She smiled at me and walked into the room naturally. Her outfit today was a different style from when we first met. That day she wore a black knit sweater and black jeans, but today she wore a bohemian-style top and jeans with a short skirt over it, looking rather unconventional. Seeing me looking her up and down, she tossed her small bag onto the bed and asked a question that baffled me: "What do we do now?" What could she do? I walked over, patted the bed beside me, and said, "What do you think?" She sat down next to me casually, turned to look at the TV, and I reached out to put my arm around her waist, my lips brushing against her neck. Unexpectedly, she giggled and pulled away, standing up and frantically changing channels, muttering to herself, "Why isn't there anything good on?" I asked, "What's wrong? Are you embarrassed?" She nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on the TV screen. I said, "Don't be embarrassed, come on, sit down." I reached out and pulled her down. She sat down with her back to me, right between my legs. I wrapped my arms around her waist and whispered behind her ear, "Close your eyes, just think of me as your boyfriend and you won't be embarrassed." I then raised my hand and cupped her breasts through her clothes. The full, plump feeling in my palm was almost unbelievable. From the outside, her breasts looked small. Based on my experience with other girls, breasts that were practically stretched out of a bra could never have this round, full feel. My entire hand could barely support them; it was completely insufficient to hold them. The unexpected sensation instantly aroused me. Just as I was about to caress her further, she got up again and escaped to the bed opposite.

I don't like forcing myself on girls, so I didn't follow her. I sat on this bed and said, "Now that you're like this, I don't know what to do." She stared at the TV for a while, then said, "How about this, you close your eyes." Oh, so she was embarrassed to let me undress her. I tried asking, "Can't I turn around and not look at you?" "No! You have to close your eyes." She said without any room for negotiation. I continued my efforts to undress the beautiful woman myself: "Are you really that embarrassed? You'll see everything anyway." "It's different." It seemed I had no choice but to compromise. Helplessly, I pulled my coat over my head, still muttering resentfully, "Why didn't you go to the bathroom? Why make me suffer like this?" She retorted quickly, "Then why didn't you go to the bathroom?" Oh, so that's how it works. "You should have said so earlier!" I ripped off my coat, not even glancing at her—who was probably already half-undressed—and went straight into the bathroom—I didn't want to ruin the important thing later by taking one last look!

A moment later, she called from outside, "All done!" I came out to find her clothes, skirt, underwear, and panties spread all over the bed. She had already hidden under the sheets on another bed, her hands covering the edge of the sheet, seemingly a little embarrassed. At this point, I didn't want to be embarrassed either. I naturally stood in front of her, took off my clothes, even my underwear, and lay naked beside her. Seeing me lie down, she turned her face away somewhat awkwardly. I laughed at her, "Still embarrassed now?" Saying this, I turned her face towards me, intending to kiss her. Unexpectedly, she turned her face away and said, "No kissing." "Why? I don't have bad breath." I persisted, trying to turn her face back, but she firmly avoided my lips, replying, "Even my boyfriend can't kiss me. You can ask him if you don't believe me." Since she said that, I couldn't continue, so I tried to kiss her earlobe instead. This time, she didn't refuse, but closed her eyes, quietly letting my lips and tongue slide across her earlobe and cheek.

While kissing her, my hand seized the opportunity to move down her bare shoulder, slipping under the sheets to caress her breasts. Her breasts were indeed genuine; although small, they were full, round, and soft, supporting my palm. I couldn't help but pull back the sheets to carefully admire these exquisite breasts, as white and delicate as her skin. As my fingers pinched and kneaded one pink nipple, my lips covered the other.

Her breathing began to quicken, and her hands gripped my shoulders. I suckled, my hand sliding over her flat, smooth abdomen, then slipping between her legs to find her shyly hidden clitoris between her pubic hair and labia, and began to knead it carefully. Her breathing quickened again, and she hugged me even tighter. After a while, using the act of kissing her abdomen, I pulled off the sheet covering her lower body. Exposed to me, she shyly squeezed her legs together, seemingly not wanting me to see her dark private parts. But this wasn't the same as her previous firm refusal; it was just an instinctive reaction. With a quick pull, her legs parted, revealing her narrow labia. I lowered my face and began to lick them. She cried out, her body twisting, her hands seemingly pushing my head away or pressing it down—a very intense reaction. I didn't care about anything else. I grabbed her legs tightly, buried my head deep in her thighs, and licked and sucked incessantly, her cries of unbearable pleasure ringing in my ears. Her slightly salty, lustful fluids soon flowed into my mouth. I touched her clitoris and labia with my fingers; they were completely slippery. Now I could play with her even more wantonly. So I slowly inserted my middle finger, first tracing its path along the tender flesh of her vaginal walls, causing her whole body to tense up, before I inserted my index finger as well, and then began to thrust rhythmically. She moaned, her hands gripping my arm and then the sheets, her lower body pressing down with my rhythm, swaying wildly, making a series of "plop plop" sounds as she thrust, her lustful fluids flowing out incessantly. Seeing her ecstatic state, I couldn't help but quicken my movements. A moment later, I suddenly felt her vagina widen, as if trying to suck in something, then return to normal, repeating this several times. She cried out, desperately pulling my body towards her. I knew it was time to get serious.

I withdrew my fingers, calmly took out a condom, put it on, and turned around. I saw her, like any woman eager for acceptance, slowly writhing her naked body, her breath quickening as she awaited the man's conquest. I knelt down, parted her legs, found the entrance to her vagina, and, holding my erect penis, slowly inserted it into her thirsty cunt. As my penis slowly entered, her expression gradually changed. First, she tightly closed her eyes in a gesture of restraint, then her brows relaxed, and then her mouth opened, letting out an extremely pleasurable "Ahhhhhhh!" From deep within her throat

, I let out an extremely pleasurable "Ah ... To be honest, her vagina wasn't as tight as I'd imagined, but her reaction was far more intense than I expected. After only a few thrusts, her fingers were practically tearing my back apart. I had to keep panting and warning her not to scratch me, otherwise I'd have to explain it to my wife. She toned it down a bit, but her moans remained as unrestrained as ever.

After kneeling and thrusting for a while, I turned her over and started my favorite doggy style. She raised her large, white, plump buttocks high, her hands supporting her head, moaning as her body trembled with each thrust of my powerful penis. Seeing such a beautiful girl so wantonly before me was incredibly stimulating. In my excitement, my lower body went numb, and a large gush of semen spurted out. I held her buttocks firmly until the last drop was ejaculated before letting go. After I released her, her buttocks remained pressed against my body, shaking wildly for a while, until I withdrew my limp penis. Only then did she reluctantly collapse onto the bed.

Once the passion subsided, she immediately regained her earlier reserve, quickly pulling the sheet over herself. I leaned down and asked, "How was it?" She smiled, her face against the wall, without saying a word, seemingly quite satisfied. I leaned close to her, gently stroking her arm, and said, "You wait, you'll see later." This time she turned her face towards me, giving me a seemingly noncommittal smile before turning her face away again. I ignored her, adjusted my breathing, relaxed, and shifted my attention to the television. This is my experience: if you're too eager to get an erection for the next time after one orgasm, it can actually affect your mood; conversely, resting comfortably for a while after an orgasm, chatting casually, and watching TV helps you get back into the mood quickly.

We chatted for a while, about 20 minutes, and seeing that time was running out, I prepared for the next session. I said, "Let me give you a massage." She obediently lay down, exposing her entire back. I straddled her and began to knead her neck down her back, until my hand was once again on her genitals. I gently rubbed her still-wet genitals, my hand slipping between her breasts and the mattress, caressing her in tandem. Soon her body began to writhe, and I took the opportunity to turn her over, continuing to knead her genitals with one hand while using the other to lift my semi-erect penis and bring it to her lips. Although she wouldn't kiss me, she didn't reject my penis, which still contained semen, and took it into her mouth, sucking it deeply and shallowly. In reality, the mental pleasure of oral sex far outweighs the physical pleasure. Watching my crude member inside a beautiful woman's rosy mouth filled me with an intense sense of conquest, instantly making me fully erect, even worried about ejaculating immediately. So I pulled out my penis almost instantly—I wanted to conquer her vagina, not her mouth—letting the glans rub against her skin as it slid down to the penetration position. She clearly enjoyed this special caress; her body arched sharply, her moans and forceful grip allowing me to fully experience her extreme physical pleasure.

Once again, my penis plunged deeply into her vagina. She tensed her body, clinging to me tightly, her thighs opening to clamp my buttocks, as if urging me to thrust even harder. I propped myself up with my hands, performing powerful and rapid piston-like movements in a push-up position—my most powerful position. My body, except for my genitals, didn't touch her body at all, allowing for more space for movement and maximizing the range and force of the thrusts. Sure enough, under the impact of this position, she completely lost herself, only screaming, only twisting, only clinging to me, completely forgetting everything around her, forgetting that she didn't even know my name. At that moment, all she felt was the overwhelming pleasure

coursing through her body. Although the push-up position could give both of us immense pleasure, it was also very physically demanding. After a few minutes of thrusting, I felt my arms couldn't hold on any longer, so I sat up. She followed suit, straddling me, changing to a missionary position. However, before I could fully lie down, she impatiently wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and began wildly shaking her hips back and forth. I had to continue sitting, supporting her wildly twisting waist to maintain our balance. Her face was tilted back, shaking her hips with great enthusiasm, but this didn't give me intense pleasure. Perhaps if she switched to an up-and-down motion, it might be more intense. However, seeing her excited screams and cries, I didn't change positions, only occasionally thrusting upwards to reward my penis under the pressure.

This position continued for a while, and the base of my penis began to ache slightly from the pressure. I felt it was time for me to unleash my power. So I pushed her down, her head pressed against the wall beside the bed. Now, with each thrust, she was forced to tilt her head, her hair disheveled across her face, her rosy lips slightly parted, her eyes tightly closed—she looked incredibly sexy. Such a beautiful girl, making love to me so passionately, made me, who was currently struggling, even doubt if I was dreaming. As the movements intensified, her head kept sliding down until it was almost at the foot of the bed. Since the foot of the bed was near the room entrance, I was afraid that her unrestrained moaning would attract the hotel staff, so I pulled out my penis and instead used my mouth and hands to caress her, allowing her wild body to relax for a moment. Sure enough, as soon as my penis was pulled out, she went limp, no longer writhing as violently as before, only occasionally scratching my hair when I kissed her sensitive areas. My lips traced a path of kisses down her neck, and when I reached her sexy navel, her reaction intensified, especially when I stuck my tongue inside and licked it vigorously. Her hand gripping my hair tightened as if she wanted to pull me bald, so much so that I had to stop after only a short while: "Don't be so rough! If you pull out my hair, I won't be able to explain it to my wife." She turned away with an embarrassed smile, gently touching my face, and said, "It's because you licked me so nicely..."

Seeing her seductive allure, my lust was reignited. I grabbed her arm, pulled her up, and said, "Didn't you say you liked doing it standing up?" I stood up, lifted one of her legs, and used my other hand to guide my penis, trying to find the right spot for her vagina. Perhaps the height difference between us was too great, because I fumbled for a long time without being able to insert my penis. She got impatient, wrapped her arms around my neck, and lifted her other leg as well, instantly hanging on me. I held her legs with both hands, lifted her body upwards with force, and then sat down, finally managing to insert my penis smoothly. She cried out, her arms tightly gripping my neck. Then I used my strength to start tossing her up and down, making my penis rub vigorously in and out of her vagina. Although this position limited the range of motion of my penis inside her vagina, each thrust felt like using her entire weight, almost penetrating deep into her uterus. She was incredibly aroused, and after a few thrusts, she cried out, "So good... I feel so good!" To be honest, while I'd seen many women making various moaning and groaning sounds during sex in erotic films, I'd never experienced anything like it before with her. Today, I witnessed it firsthand. It seems her reputation for standing during sex wasn't unfounded.

While stimulating, this "Italian chandelier" position was incredibly physically demanding, especially considering she weighs 95 pounds. I could only stand for about five minutes before I was exhausted, so I slowly lowered her onto the bed. Perhaps it was the intense stimulation, or perhaps the pressure on my penis when I lowered her, but I ejaculated almost immediately after placing her on the bed—it wasn't satisfying at all.

Because of time constraints, I had to leave. As I left, I asked her, "Was that good enough?" She just smiled without answering. I asked again, "So, if I ask you out next time, you won't come?" She immediately corrected me, "I didn't say that!" Haha, looks like I've had enough of her. I've decided to find another time to ask her out and have some more fun. Just wait and see! [The End]

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My Passion with an Art School Girl

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