The allure of a long-legged girlfriend

I really like dating tall girls, with long legs and a strong bust. Compared to them, while petite girls might pique my interest temporarily, tall girls hold a much greater attraction for me in the long run. My

first girlfriend in college was very tall, around 175cm. We were both young, and although we were both eager, our relationship only progressed to casual sex and second base. We didn't have a place to live, we didn't have time, and although we spent a lot of time together, we lacked a suitable place to "make love," so nothing progressed. She was very innocent, and I was young, so I often didn't dare to go too far.
Once, I went to her house to fix her computer. It was a very simple problem, and I fixed it in 10 minutes. She hugged me from behind while I fixed it. I realized she dared to do this because her mother had already gone to work, and because her workplace was far away, she wouldn't be back for lunch. That meant that for the entire eight hours from then until evening, it would just be the two of us in the house. Thinking about this, I suddenly became bolder.

I moved her over and carried her to the bed. She was home alone wearing only a nightgown, and her breasts were clearly visible without a bra. I positioned her head, and she closed her eyes. I began to kiss her.

One thing I found unforgettable about my ex was her sensitivity to kissing. Whenever I started kissing her, whether on the face or hands, her breathing would immediately quicken, her eyes would close tightly, her whole body would seem to tense, her face would flush, and her breathing would become heavy through her nose.

As usual, I took off her pajamas and kneaded her breasts. Her eyes remained tightly closed, her brows furrowed, and she would occasionally arch her back to meet my hands. Undoubtedly, she enjoyed the caresses.

I decided to take a step further and tried to remove her pajama bottoms. "No…" she murmured softly, covering her genitals with her hands. Several times, she blocked me; my crotch was already throbbing unbearably, but I hadn't made any progress. I had no choice but to climb back on top of her and kiss her lips again to calm her down.

I suddenly noticed a strip of cloth on the windowsill, used to tie up the curtains. The curtains were closed, so the cloth was lying there. My eyes lit up, and I reached for it. While kissing my girlfriend, I pulled her hands behind her back.

She realized my intention and tried to resist, but I didn't give her a chance. I flipped her over, straddled her, and tied her hands with the cloth. Looking back, although my girlfriend was tall and even a bit muscular, she was always limp. Her resistance to my advances was never very strong. I wasn't very strong, but I could always move her arms away. Although she started screaming loudly and even seemed panicked while I was tying her up,
her arms weren't strong enough to break free…

When I flipped her back onto the bed and pressed her between her legs, she had no chance to resist. Her eyes were still tightly closed, her breathing heavy, her face flushed, and her chest heaving.
I pulled down her pajama bottoms and underwear. She cried out "No!" and tried to squeeze her legs together and twist her body in resistance, but it was all in vain. I saw her paradise for the first time. As I gently kneaded her clitoris with my index finger and thumb, her cries slowly turned into moans and groans.

I gently inserted my finger; it was a little tight and not easy to go in. She trembled all over and cried out "No!" again in a pitiful way, but her eyes remained closed. She seemed to tilt her head back, trying to get up, but her hands were tied behind her back, and her legs were spread high apart. She couldn't struggle any further...

I slowly inserted two fingers, and fluid began to flow out, not much at first, but gradually increasing. I stopped and started to take off my own underwear, but not my shirt. I lifted her legs up, held my penis with one hand, and entered her.

It felt good inside, warm and full. I felt a strong, oppressive feeling; it was very tight, and I could even feel the pressure on my penis as her body trembled. I began thrusting, and she started moaning, her eyes still tightly closed, her brow furrowed.

I became more violent, increasing the amplitude and force of my movements, as if I couldn't pierce her head. She was already very wet, and I rhythmically slapped her body, making slapping sounds. She cried out in pain, gritting her teeth, but I didn't stop.

...

I finally conquered her for the first time, until I ejaculated on her stomach. She lay there, her lips twitching slightly, her whole body still trembling, I didn't know if it was from the cold or the abuse I had just endured.

I washed myself, dried her off, changed her underwear and put it on her, then put on her pajama bottoms. I untied her hands; they were already red from the cloth strips binding them. I felt a little guilty. As soon as I let go of her hands, she pulled me close, hugging me tightly, and we lay like that on the bed. Throughout the whole process, she didn't open her eyes. I kept kissing her nose, her face, kissing her for a long time, until we had to separate.
Once it happened, it happened again. She said I was her first man, but I didn't know if that was true, because it didn't matter to me. However, the advantage of being her man was that I could often find her when no one was home and have sex with her. I'm not tall, and she could easily outrun me in heels, so I often had to stand on a step to hug her head. But that didn't stop us from having sex. When I made her kneel on the carpet in heels and give me oral sex, all my beastly, perverse desires were finally unleashed. I started trying all sorts of methods with her, often not even really having sex, because I felt it was mostly torture. At first, she would resist, even violently, but after I conquered her each time and brought her pleasure in some way, the next time it was just routine. Whenever I had the need, she would help me achieve it, even if she hesitated.

I remember back then, her class monitor didn't know about our relationship. He wrote her love letters every day and sent her flowers from time to time. Although she repeatedly rejected his kindness, he persisted. I was fortunate enough to read those words; they were so pure and poignant. I think even I, as a girl, was moved. Unfortunately, I had already won her over. While the class monitor was upstairs wasting another precious afternoon writing those idyllic love poems, I was in her house, rubbing her breasts with my toes and falling asleep with my penis in her mouth.

Later, we parted ways. She left my city and went to a top university in America, spending her days experimenting on a organism with only a few hundred cells, trying to contribute to humanity. I remember her saying that if she had the chance to discover and obtain the naming rights to a new protein, she would use the first letters of our names. I was very happy.

We hadn't broken up when she left. Her mother would still call me, asking me to come and fix their almost empty but always broken computer.

Later, our class monitor finally received an offer from a private university in the southern United States. He and my girlfriend disappeared across the ocean, though her mother seemed completely unaware. Even six months later, she suddenly called me to fix her computer. Of course, she must have known something; she didn't even wait for me to come back the following week before thanking me profusely and saying I didn't need to come anymore.

Now I've been here for a long time. She lives very close to me; I even know which building and room she's in for her experiments—she told me in detail. Unfortunately, I have no desire to see her anymore. After her, I haven't dated any tall women. I think my long-legged fantasy has ended with her. I don't want to sleep with a woman like that again. When I'm thrusting into her on the edge of the bed, her legs dangle off the edge, swaying gracefully in my rhythm, drawing long arcs, accompanied by moans—it was a beautiful sight.

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The allure of a long-legged girlfriend

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