An ordinary day

I'm a second-year high school student, about to enter my third year. Although I'm not entirely happy about it, the days just keep passing by, and the only joy in high school seems to be found in the presence of female students.

Today is Saturday, a very ordinary day. I went to school early as usual, scanning the girls on the street as always. At certain intersections, girls from certain schools would appear; I knew exactly which overpass steps offered a clear view of their skirts from below… These were familiar, everyday details.

Every day I looked forward to crossing a specific overpass. Students from a nearby vocational school were required to cross the street via the overpass according to school regulations, and their summer skirts brought anticipation and joy to fellow students on their way to school.

Today, as usual, I deliberately looked up as I passed by. A group of girls wearing white striped uniforms and light blue skirts were walking towards me, chatting and laughing.

Some wore safety shorts under their blue skirts, while others wore pure white underwear. A truly beautiful sight.

For some reason, whenever I see girls, my mood brightens. I've always believed that young girls are the essence of the universe, bringing hope and joy to the world.

When I arrived at school, it was an ordinary high school, and of course, there were girls too. Classes were co-educational; I was in the social studies group, so naturally, there were more girls. The classes were predictably dull and boring, so there was no need to attend more of them. Wandering around the school grounds, casually admiring the girls, was quite enjoyable.

In a class with many girls, as long as you weren't too ugly or had a particularly outstanding personality, it was easy to be pursued. However, you couldn't expect much in terms of looks from those who were interested in you.

We had two days off every other week, and Saturdays were, of course, only half a day of school. The school required everyone to wear uniforms on Saturdays, which suited me perfectly. I always wondered if the principal shared my taste. I also really enjoyed seeing female students in uniforms. It was quite

nice to have the whole school dressed in uniforms for everyone to admire.

The second-to-last period before dismissal was cleaning time, and our class was assigned to clean an inexplicably abandoned old classroom.

That was the classroom we used in first grade. After the new school building was built in second grade, the old classroom became a ruin. It was rarely visited, not even cats or dogs were seen. So why bother sweeping it? It was utterly baffling.

After English class, I picked up my chair, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and started lounging around in my assigned sweeping area. Everyone else sweeping was a girl, and they chatted amongst themselves, so I was happy to wander around as I

pleased. I saw a strange yellow insect on the ground, something that looked like a ladybug, and, having nothing better to do, I followed it. As I walked, I heard a sound coming from the old classroom… a girl's voice. A mournful cry.

Last year, there was an incident at the school where an unidentified outsider tied up two girls and attempted to rape them in a secluded place. I regretted not having witnessed it; otherwise, I could have at least seen the older girls stripped and tied up.

An empty old classroom -> a girl's mournful cry… it certainly sparked a lot of interesting associations. I secretly began searching for the source of the sound.

I started searching from the first room on the first floor… then went up to the second floor… In the classroom on the second floor, I saw a scene that was somewhat different from what I had imagined, but even more exciting.

Two girls were embracing, one somewhat attractive and the other plain-looking. I hadn't seen her much before; were they juniors? If they were in the same grade, I couldn't possibly not remember them, and seniors shouldn't look this young. Moreover, this year's first-year students seem to particularly like to tie their hair up in a large bun with a clip, unlike the second-year girls who usually tie their hair into two strands hanging down. These two were dressed in the standard first-year style.

The buttons on their uniforms were undone, revealing white bodies and bras pulled to the side beneath the light green uniforms. The more attractive junior was sucking on the other junior's earlobe, their legs intertwined, their bodies pressed tightly together, writhing.

I'd never thought of coming to the second floor of a place like this before, even when I was sweeping the floor. Today was a lucky day; I'll definitely come here more often in the future! After turning over these thoughts, I decided to keep watching.

The junior girl, her cheeks flushed and panting, was being sucked on the earlobe. In the sweltering classroom, their bodies pressed together, it was easy to imagine how hot it would be.

Soon, the sucking target shifted from the ear to the nipple, while the girl being sucked reached under the skirt of the more attractive girl and began to caress it.

Their thighs were pressed together, their dark blue pleated skirts already disheveled, their panties pulled to the side.

They caressed each other's bodies, their loose hair falling over their shoulders and faces, seemingly emitting moans of pleasure in a daze… According to typical novels and HG plots, should I appear at this point and grope them?

I really wanted to, but I wanted to finish high school even more. If something went wrong, this game would be over. So, after the bell rang, they gradually stopped their intense game, and I returned to the classroom.

The last period was a self-study period; unusually, there was no exam, and the teacher had already gone home. No one was watching us, so we could all do whatever we wanted. My mind was still preoccupied with the beautiful scenery I'd just witnessed, and I couldn't concentrate on what I'd planned to do. So I just started chatting aimlessly with someone.

A girl sat in front of me, and she liked to bother me with her flipping through her books, which was a good way to kill time.

Suddenly, I saw someone reading a comic book, so I grabbed one. It was an erotic comic, one of those small, slightly thick ones from the Black Cat Bunko series—perfect for my current mood.

I flipped through it…it was a typical story about a female teacher. Sigh. I have no interest in female teachers. I only like female students.

Since no one was watching, everyone left when it was almost time for the school gates to open.

Since I wasn't in a hurry, I lingered near the classroom, enjoying watching the girls with their backpacks heading home. This year, the first-graders' backpacks were dark green. While not as nice as our second-graders' black backpacks, they looked good with their light green uniforms. I'm increasingly convinced the principal shares my tastes.

There's a water fight going on in the next class. A group of people were splashing water around, boys and girls having a great time. The girls' clothes became transparent when splashed, clinging tightly to their bodies, revealing everything underneath.

Since I wasn't in a hurry, I tried to watch. The girls in the next class were much more well-behaved than those in our class. Most of the girls in our class weren't that great, only a few were particularly outstanding. And our class's only truly beautiful girl, who could be considered the class beauty, was also playing in the water. She's always been very lively, so it wasn't surprising.

Under the sunlight, with the splashes of water highlighting them, the girls, their bodies wet and their hair disheveled, were still laughing and jumping around. I was mesmerized. So beautiful.

After about half an hour, they finished playing. Those who had brought changes of clothes went to the restroom, while those who didn't left, still soaking wet and playing around. I left school, satisfied.

No one was home on Saturday, so I wandered around the bookstore on the way and admired the view created by the wind from the department store behind it. I wonder why there's always such a strong wind near those buildings? Anyway, this is a good thing.

Three junior high school students walked by, their skirts flying up, revealing they were wearing extra pants underneath—annoying. But their legs were quite pretty. It seems junior high school students generally have prettier legs? Maybe they're still young, so they haven't started to get thicker yet?

I went into the bookstore and started reading Murakami's "Subway Incident," a book of interviews with sarin victims. I stood there several times and almost finished it. There weren't many female students browsing the bookstore at noon today; I looked at the books briefly and left.

I bought lunch at a fast-food restaurant and went home. After lunch, I read a novel, went to the subway station, took a nap, and then started packing to go to the library.

Final exams are coming up soon; after this, I'll be a third-year student, so I need to be prepared. Last time I ranked 13th; this time, I really want to try and get into the top 10. Going to the library is important, of course, because there are so many girls there, and anything strange can happen.

I remember once in the men's restroom on the first floor of the library, I found the door locked and heard a girl's voice inside.

Bored, I turned off the light from the outside. A couple of minutes later, a junior high school girl peeked out, turned the light back on, and locked the door again. The girl's voice continued to come from inside. Still bored, I decided to investigate. I walked a long way around the outside of the library to a window and peeked inside. What I saw wasn't too surprising: a male student from a vocational high school was having sex with a female student from my alma mater. The girl was quite pretty and seemed experienced.

Judging from her white uniform and dark blue skirt, she was dressed like a typical junior high school student, but her clothes suggested she was a third-year student. Since the uniforms for first and second-year students at my alma mater had been changed to red.

She had short, student-style hair, and her petite body trembled under the caresses of large hands. Her clothes were disheveled, and the vocational high school student had her on the floor with her legs spread, his hands moving up and down between her thighs.

The girl's head was moving up and down; it must have felt quite good. But why did this have to happen in the men's restroom of the library? There's a park right next door; wouldn't it be better to go to the bushes? It's disgusting to be seen like this.

The vocational school student tried to pull down the girl's underwear, but she stopped him. They talked through the window, but it seemed she had no intention of taking things further.

The vocational school student's face turned somewhat ugly, and his caresses quickened. He even licked and bit her body with his tongue. Finally, they stopped, and the girl played with the vocational school student's genitals. I wasn't very interested in male orgasms, so I left.

This was my strangest memory of the library. Although I haven't seen anything similar happen since, I still go every day. After all, I go there to study; I can't always expect unexpected surprises.

But studying is studying, and looking around while studying is never a bad thing. With exam season approaching, the number of young people studying at the library has surged, and in the sweltering heat, there are plenty of alluringly dressed girls.

This year, it seems many girls like to wear very short shorts? While this kind of clothing eliminates the pleasure of admiring skirts and the anticipation of what's underneath, looking at pretty legs is still quite satisfying.

I had a classmate reserve a seat for me early this morning, and I sat down as soon as I arrived in the afternoon. Looking around, I saw two girls in casual clothes directly in front of me, a bit chubby and not particularly attractive. Disappointed, I was about to concentrate on my studies... when I discovered that the girl sitting to my right was indeed a beauty.

I hadn't paid much attention when I first sat down, but now, seeing her suddenly, I was stunned. Of course, beauties of this caliber aren't rare, but it's always good to have one sitting next to you. She had

long, flowing hair, wore casual clothes, a slightly tight top that deliberately accentuated her figure, and a very short denim mini-skirt. Short as it was, sitting down, I couldn't see inside. So, as I mentioned before, I could only look at her legs. They were very pretty calves, perfectly proportioned, wearing thick sneakers with the bubble socks that are so popular these days. I think girls like to look at the face first, then the legs.

They judge an attractive face, and judge a figure by the legs. If a girl is pretty, I won't hesitate to stare. We don't know each other, so all I can do is admire her beauty. The schoolbag was green, lying at an angle so the school name was obscured. I couldn't immediately recall any nearby schools that used green schoolbags. After a moment of random thoughts, I continued reading. I

was studying geography. Because there was a quiz on Monday covering three subjects, I couldn't understand why teachers, unable to control their own teaching pace, forced students to cram for the final exams. But geography wasn't too difficult. Two hours later, I'd swept across the Yellow River Plain, the Loess Plateau, and even the Hexi Corridor, from Shanhaiguan, Languan, and Dasanguan to Yumenguan, and finished the book.

Having finished, I had some free time. I continued looking around. The girl next to me had already left, and I started looking into the distance. Actually, libraries are really great places. If you just want to admire young women, instead of wandering the streets, you could sit in a library all day; the people coming and going are often invigorating.

From junior high, high school, vocational high school, to university, you can see all kinds of female students, and all kinds of outfits.

I went to the restroom. A closer look at the walls of the men's restroom in the library reveals many interesting things, ranging from political party curses to advertisements for same-sex lovers. But even more intriguing is the women's restroom, separated only by a wall. The wall separating the men's and women's restrooms in the library doesn't reach the ceiling; it's actually quite low.

The portion below the ceiling is separated by wooden windows with leaf-shaped hinges, which, of course, cannot be moved.

Because of this, strange noises often drift from next door, sparking much speculation. I've always been fascinated by the world just a wall away, but of course, I can't simply enter the women's restroom. Peeping into the next room isn't easy, because if you peek out, everyone in the men's room will see what you're doing.

I've been thinking for a long time about overcoming this technical difficulty, and it's often a topic of my daydreams during class. One day, I had an idea, and I worked hard to achieve it—about a month ago, just before my second midterm exams. What

I thought of was a periscope I used to play with as a child. A lens was installed at the bend in a curved pipe, using the refraction of light to create the effect of seeing things on the other side of the pipe.

No one would notice the small pipe in the toilet, but it served the important purpose of connecting the men's and women's restrooms.

I wonder if I need to describe the scene in detail? Anyway, I succeeded, and after that, I no longer had such a strong desire for the next stall.

I went home for dinner around six o'clock, and after dinner, I went back to the library. I wanted to read Chinese literature, but I couldn't concentrate, so I took out a novel I had prepared and stayed until nine o'clock before leaving.

Although my home is very close to the library, I wandered around the streets on the way, so I didn't get home until after nine.

As usual, I went online, played around with the computer for a while, played with my dog, fed my turtle, and finished various chores before sitting down at my desk to write a letter.

The letter was to a junior high school classmate, a girl, who was also my god-sister back then. She's a pretty young girl. Although we're the same age, I still prefer to see her as a young girl, both in appearance and in her mind—after all, I'm not old either. We had

a crush on each other in junior high, but because we were too young then, nothing came of it. After a year-long hiatus following graduation, we suddenly reconnected.

She had a boyfriend, so I tried my best to help her with her life's problems and listen to her strange teenage worries.

I'm usually a quiet person, so when I answered the phone, I hardly had to say anything; I just listened quietly and responded when necessary—it was out of a caring attitude.

Yesterday, I received a call from her saying she was having problems with her boyfriend. I wrote three long pages, offering my perspective on their situation and telling her to make plans for her future. I

finished writing the letter around 11 PM, had a late-night snack, went online, and went to bed around 1 AM.

I spent the next day at the library again. Nothing particularly unusual happened, but the intimate behavior and annoying conversation of a couple across the table made it impossible to concentrate on my studies. The seat too close to the air conditioning was also a headache. So, I just skimmed through some Chinese literature and an outline of classical Chinese studies before focusing on observing the girls around me.

There weren't any particularly stunning figures that day, but I did notice a lot of girls wearing red t-shirts and blue shorts. A casual glance revealed at least four or five. It wasn't particularly stylish clothing, but it was unusual to see so many people dressed similarly on the same day.

Sunday evenings are usually not conducive to studying, so I left the library early, around four or five o'clock, and wandered the streets as usual. I know it's boring, but there aren't many leisure activities I can do at times like this, so a walk is always comfortable.

In a corridor near the library, I saw a couple embracing, and not just embracing, but their bodies and limbs were moving simultaneously. They were both wearing uniforms. I've always wondered why so many people like to wear uniforms on weekends. Anyway, the couple I saw were from a vocational high school, the same school as the junior high students I'd seen playing with in the restroom before. Their uniforms were exactly the same as our school's boys' uniforms, except the tops were light blue, slightly different from our light yellow. The style was identical, so they were easy to recognize.

The girl was a nursing student, wearing a light blue jumpsuit. I quite like the girls from this school, mainly because their uniforms are still skirts in winter, like a breath of fresh air in the desert. Although their charm diminishes in summer, I still enjoy seeing them.

They are the second most popular girls in the area after the vocational high school near our school, and they're a group I like very much. Thinking about it, both schools' uniforms are light blue. Do I have a light blue fetish? I'm not sure.

It's common knowledge that the boys and girls from these two schools are often seen together, often near the library, and they're known for their blatant behavior. It's just that seeing them so openly and obviously behaving like this is unusual.

The girl is quite beautiful; girls from this school are generally attractive, which is one of the reasons I admire her.

Her figure is slightly less than ideal, her legs a bit thick, but she's still undeniably beautiful. Her long hair is a little disheveled, her expression slightly dazed, her eyes half-closed, suggesting she's lost in a passionate embrace.

They are deeply kissing, their faces pressed tightly together, their bodies entwined. The boy's hands roam restlessly over the girl's body, while she gently pushes them away with slight resistance, only to wrap her arms around his waist again.

After about half a minute of kissing, the boy begins licking the girl's face and neck, biting her earlobe, unbuttoning her blouse and kissing her upper chest, simultaneously kneading her breasts with both hands, kissing her hair, kissing her eyes, indulging in the most tender caresses.

After a while, the boy suddenly squatted down and put his head inside the girl's skirt. The girl spread her legs wide and struggled, her light blue dress stretched taut by his head, revealing her pure white underwear, which was wrinkled and covered by the boy's tongue. The girl made incomprehensible moans, then suddenly pushed his head away, said something, and the two embraced and left, leaving me bewildered and speechless.

I couldn't stand wandering the streets any longer, so I went home. That evening, with nothing to do, I watched TV. There was a beautiful girl from Taipei First High School on TV… Even though I rarely go to Taipei, it was nice to see her like that.

After watching TV, I took a shower. Since I had school the next day, I went to bed early and started reading comics and novels before going to sleep.

Early Monday morning, I rode my bicycle to school, still feeling groggy and exhausted. The route from home to school was simple; it was at both ends of a long main road, so all I had to do was follow the traffic lights—go -> stop -> go—and try to observe the female students.

I prefer to find someone who also rides a bike and follow them. If they go, I go; if they stop, I stop. This saves me the trouble of judging the road conditions and thinking for myself.

And doing this with a girl is definitely more fun than with a boy.

Today, I quickly found someone and started following closely. She's a girl from a vocational school near our university. Since I'm following from behind, I can't see her face, and since I don't know her and won't try to get to know her, I don't bother looking.

Judging by her body and legs, she's very pretty. Her hair is the typical length for a female student—probably for end-of-term checks? Not particularly long.

In the sweltering heat, there were patches of sweat on the back of her white uniform, her sweat-soaked hair fluttering in the wind as she rode, her black pleated skirt billowing in the wind, only to be quickly pressed back down.

Another girl from the same school. One day on my way to school, I saw a group of girls walking together. The girl in front had her skirt caught on her backpack but didn't realize it, continuing to walk with her skirt up like that from behind. Was the girl behind her her classmate? They just walked, chatted, and joked around as if nothing was wrong. Underneath her skirt was a pair of white underwear covering her buttocks; it looked like a stunning sight at the time, but words can't quite capture its beauty.

Arriving at school, I glanced at the disciplinary officers at the gate and rushed in. Our school's disciplinary team was practically uncivilized last year; nobody bothered to look at them. But today, with the addition of some female freshmen, the quality of our female disciplinary officers has greatly improved.

Speaking of which, I've noticed something…it seems like girls born in 1982 are generally quite well-mannered? As for me, I'm in the information club.

Arriving at school early this morning, I found a set of girls' uniform and skirt on my seat. Puzzled, I calmly sat down, tucking the uniform and skirt behind me.

The class beauty rushed over and hurriedly took the clothes away; apparently, she'd taken them off after a water fight the day before and hung them there to dry.

My seat is by the window, that's true, but why use my chair as a clothes rack? Well, let her use it. I'm not dissatisfied.

I was supposed to have an exam this morning, but it was canceled due to the flag-raising ceremony. With nothing to do, I took out the newspaper and started reading, chatting with people nearby, and doing some meaningless things to pass the time during morning self-study.

The flag-raising ceremony is quite enjoyable; all the female students in the school gather together to admire it, large swathes of green uniforms standing neatly in unison. You have to enjoy the bodies and faces beneath the uniforms yourself. So I don't dislike the flag-raising ceremony, and I can understand why the school likes it.

Every break today, I went to the old classroom from that day, hoping something good would happen, but I didn't see anything, except for a green ribbon on the ground. It must have been dropped by a junior. I carefully kept it, though I don't know why. I

tried hard to find the two juniors from that day, searching through all the first-year classrooms. I found them quickly; their classroom wasn't far from ours, and they were in the same class. But even after finding them, there was still nothing I could do.

But knowing a little more is never a bad thing.

There were two consecutive math classes in the afternoon, followed by PE, after which I could go home.

The math class left me dizzy and disoriented, and then it suddenly started raining during PE, so I could only hide in the gym watching the younger girls playing badminton, jumping around and shouting, their bodies drenched in sweat—so cute!

The library is closed on Mondays, so I didn't have to rush to grab a seat, and because of the rain, I didn't plan to bike home after school. I decided to try squeezing onto the bus.

Squeezing onto the bus can be quite fun, but it requires some luck. Anyway, with a little expectation, I headed towards the school gate square, where rows of buses were parked.

Since the year I enrolled, the school has had a rule that girls board the bus first. Boys have to wait until all the girls have boarded. While this is somewhat tiring, it also means that once the boys get on, the bus is full of girls waiting.

Therefore, despite the many complaints about this policy, I still quite appreciate it. After all, the style of respecting women and belittling men is quite to my liking, which makes me even more convinced that the principal shares the same taste as me, haha.

I arrived a bit late today, and after finally squeezing onto the bus, I could only stand on the steps by the door. There was another female student standing on the same step, and neither of us could move...

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An ordinary day

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