My Romantic History (A Personal Account)

My Personal Love Story Word
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(I)
This is my true story, one that I still find unforgettable. After much hesitation, I decided to share it with everyone.
The names of the people in the story are, of course, pseudonyms, but the content is absolutely true. I hope that all of you will cherish every opportunity you encounter and enjoy life as I have.
My name is Xiaodong, I am 32 years old, and I work in the editorial department of a magazine (I won't tell you the name of the magazine). I have a beautiful and charming wife, but since she is not the main character, I won't introduce her here.
To my shame, although I am very handsome, and many girls say I am dashing, giving off a deep and passionate feeling, my sexual experiences with girls didn't start early.
I can't remember which grade in elementary school I started masturbating. There was a pure and beautiful girl in my class who could sing and dance. Because we sang a song together at a party, some mischievous classmates started treating us like a couple and made up many rhymes about us. I was secretly thrilled, but outwardly I acted angry. We used to walk home together after school, holding hands affectionately, but when she found out about the rumors, she burst into tears and ignored me completely.
Looking back, I realize how conservative the environment was then; it was shameful for people to know that two classmates were close.
Actually, the girl liked me a lot, but she was angry that her feelings had been exposed—something she told me herself later. This incident had a significant impact on me. From then on, I was extremely cautious about interacting with girls, burying many desires deep inside and relieving them through masturbation at night.
In short, masturbation was my biggest secret in elementary school; I did it almost every day, otherwise I couldn't fall asleep.
The objects of my fantasies were unpredictable—sometimes female classmates, sometimes female teachers, or movie stars.
I remember a Chinese language teacher in her thirties in elementary school. Many people called her a "loose woman," saying she was promiscuous. However, she was very kind to her students, especially to me, perhaps because my essays were always used as model examples.
Sometimes I secretly wondered why she didn't sleep with me. But I honestly didn't know what "messing around" meant.
After graduating from elementary school, I went to a boarding school in another city. The night before I left, I ran away from home to meet the girl I sang with.
We were both incredibly nervous, even our voices were breathless. That day, I kissed her for the first time. She was too shy to look at me, her hands were sweaty, and she nestled against me like a little bird.
I stiffly held her slender waist, and I could clearly feel her developing breasts and buttocks. I couldn't see her expression at night, but her warm breath made my face and ears feel warm, so I held her even tighter.
But that was all. There was no further action. Later, when we recalled this incident, we both said we regretted not taking it any further, but we really didn't know what to do.
In junior high, I was a top student who was the center of attention throughout the school, and also the president of the student council, so I had many more opportunities to meet female classmates. Many girls, secretly considered the school beauty by the male classmates, would intentionally or unintentionally strike up conversations with me. Needless to say, the tender glances they gave me conveyed a message that any boy experiencing his first stirrings of love could understand.
However, the teachers were also very watchful. Often, if a girl spoke to me for just a few words, a teacher would call me into the office the next day to question me in detail about what we had talked about. It seemed as if someone was always secretly following and monitoring me.
Although these girls were all in the prime of their youth, my lack of sexual knowledge and my timidity made me afraid of ruining my image in the eyes of the teachers and classmates, so I missed most of the opportunities. When they were alone with me, all they did was hug and kiss, and they weren't much better than me in other ways.
Once, during a group outing and spending the night outdoors, a girl a year older than me asked me out. By a shady stream, I boldly slipped my hand under her sweatpants and touched her private parts, discovering that the area was covered in soft hair and was warm and moist. She breathed excitedly and said in a coquettish voice, "You're so naughty."
(II)
Last time, when I put my hand inside the girl's sweatpants to touch her private parts, she said in a sweet voice, "You're so naughty." I panicked and quickly withdrew my hand because it was the first time a girl had called me naughty. Unexpectedly, she immediately pressed my wrist with her hand, then wrapped her arms around my neck, raised her buttocks, and tightly sandwiched my arms between us. She looked at me and chuckled, saying, "You're such a good student, so honest. I was just saying the opposite of what I meant."
I was still extremely nervous because this was, after all, the first time I had touched a girl's private parts. As I calmed down a little, I began to feel the warmth and smoothness of the girl's private parts. In a small patch of soft, fine hair, my fingers suddenly felt a thin but warm crevice, and the girl suddenly let out a low moan. I stopped involuntarily and asked softly, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"
She didn't answer, but instead hugged my neck tighter, thrusting her hips up again to press her vulva tightly against my fingers. Then she began to move her whole body up and down, causing her vulva to rub against my fingers.
Before long, I could feel that my fingers were wet with a lot of fluid. The girl's face was pressed against mine, very hot, even her heavy, short breaths were hot, tickling my face and ears.
For a while, neither of us spoke. I could only feel the girl's up-and-down movements getting faster and faster, her rapid breathing turning into soft moans.
"Good brother, push harder! Yes! A little higher! A little higher!"
I was a little at a loss, so I just mechanically did as she said, and I could already feel a fleshy bump the size of a soybean at the top of her vulva. Suddenly, her moans turned into long groans. I looked up and saw that her head was raised high, her face facing the sky, her mouth wide open, but her eyes were narrowed to slits.
After a spasm, she slowly calmed down, opened her eyes, and started giggling at me again, whispering in my ear, "Brother, that felt so good!"
If it weren't for what happened that night, I wouldn't have known girls masturbated. I was still stunned when the girl looked up at my face, touched my chin with her soft little hand, and suddenly asked, "Hey, you guys, I mean you, do you do that too?"
This question touched on my biggest secret of the past few years, and to protect my image and self-esteem, I quickly shook my head. To my surprise, she gave me a sly look, then suddenly reached down and touched my already erect penis, grinning mischievously, "Haha, you can't fool me, your dick is really hard!"
I was completely stunned by this sudden attack. Just as she impatiently reached for my zipper, I seemed to suddenly snap out of it. Without a word, I pushed her away, stood up, and ran back, leaving her slightly lewd giggles behind.
When I returned to the campsite, my classmates were busy preparing for the evening's party and didn't notice my flustered state.
The girl didn't return until almost halfway through the party.
I avoided meeting her burning gaze. In the moonlight, the red campfire illuminated her round, delicate face, making it glow, while her thick, moist lips gleamed. Many boys asked her to dance, but she refused, sitting motionless in a corner. Every time I glanced at her, I could feel her staring at me.
For more than a year afterward, we didn't go on dates again. This was not only because I was frightened by her boldness, but also because we both lived in boarding school, and apart from a few outings, we almost never had a chance to date. However, we could often meet in the school cafeteria or after class. Although we couldn't talk openly, her bright eyes always lingered on me. I pretended to be indifferent and tried not to look at her.
Our relationship came to an end.
Later, her boldness still caused trouble. After secretly dating a local hoodlum for a while, she finally got pregnant. The school found out and she was expelled. I haven't heard from her since, and now I can't even remember her name.
(III)
Although what happened in the second year of junior high school wasn't a real love story, it had an undeniable impact on my sexual development. I masturbated more frequently, and the images in my mind became more concrete.
That warm, moist crevice seemed to be stuck to my hand, lingering there. I regretted not daring to look at that mysterious place with my eyes back then. The school started a physiology class, and the textbook only had one picture of female genitalia. I secretly studied it for a long time, but I still couldn't connect it with the realistic and vivid object.
I started to look at the girls around me with a different eye, imagining whether they were like that girl, whether they were also secretly engaging in the activities I had witnessed, either alone or with boys. The more I did this, the more restless I became. I couldn't concentrate in class anymore, and those girls who usually winked at me became little sluts in my mind.
I was tall, and my seat was at the back of the class, which provided me with the opportunity to masturbate during class.
Whenever everyone was concentrating on listening to the teacher, I couldn't resist the urge after my erection, and I would squeeze my penis tightly through my pants and pinch it for a while, then rush to the toilet to wipe away the semen after class.
Finally, one day, this behavior of mine triggered my first romantic experience at the age of 16.
When I first entered high school, four young teachers who had just graduated from teachers' college came to our school. At a school assembly, they all went up to the stage to meet everyone one by one. A female teacher named Lin Xiaoyi immediately caught my eye.
When she stood up from the stage and nodded to us, my eyes lit up, my heart raced, and it felt like we'd met before. If you insist I describe her appearance, I'm afraid words can't do it justice. Perhaps I should mention someone you can compare her to: she looked exactly like the actress Athena Chu.
I could feel the whispers around me immediately quiet down; both boys and girls stared at her wide-eyed. My lower body was already hard. I secretly glanced around, shifted my position, and covered my crotch with my hands to avoid being noticed.
For the next month or so, these new teachers completed a series of classroom internships before starting to teach in their respective classes. I knew Ms. Lin taught English, but unfortunately, we already had an English teacher, so I never expected her to teach us; I was just happy to see her every day.
However, fate is unpredictable. Our kind old English teacher was suddenly hospitalized due to liver disease. As the English class representative, I had just led a few classmates to visit him in the hospital. As soon as we returned to the classroom, our homeroom teacher came in and loudly announced, "Classmates, Mr. Zhang has unfortunately been hospitalized. Today, I'd like to introduce a new English teacher to you all. Please welcome her!"
Before she finished speaking, a petite figure flashed in. Upon closer inspection, wow, it was Ms. Lin! The whole class fell silent, followed by enthusiastic applause and cheers. At that moment, I had a premonition that my life was destined to be intertwined with her.
In fact, I wasn't the only one who liked Ms. Lin. Apart from others, everyone in our class, both boys and girls, felt the same way. Because whenever it was English class, the usually mischievous boys became unusually quiet, and the girls' clothes became noticeably prettier. As for me, I was the opposite; I became even more absent-minded and couldn't concentrate at all.
Ms. Lin was actually a very lively girl (she was only 22 at the time), always with a sweet smile that was captivating. She was petite, but curvaceous, and looked good in anything. Although she was a teacher, she wasn't that much older than us, so she got along well with all the students, constantly chatting and laughing with them during breaks. Almost everyone wanted to gather around, even just for a quick glance. But I
was different. I always stood far away, maintaining my usual feigned reserve. But I noticed that whenever my gaze fell upon her, surrounded by classmates, I would occasionally meet her gaze as she casually glanced at me. She would smile kindly at me, then turn back to chat and laugh with her "admirers."
All of us students lived at school, and we weren't allowed to go home except on weekends. Every morning we had to run and do morning exercises together, then attend morning self-study, and the last period in the afternoon was playtime. Since Ms. Lin arrived, every morning during self-study, I could see her running on the playground outside the classroom window, wearing a bright red tracksuit. Her beautiful legs, full buttocks, and bouncing breasts were all clearly visible.
The first time we spoke alone together was also on the playground. It was the second Wednesday afternoon after she started teaching. A few of us boys were playing basketball on the playground. I ran to the edge of the playground to retrieve a ball, and she walked over with a smile, calling out to me in her magnetic voice, "Xiaodong, can you come here for a moment?"
I agreed and threw the ball back, then we walked together onto the shady path beside the stream by the playground.
She wanted to hear the students' opinions on her teaching. I wasn't really interested in talking about that; I was just constantly glancing at her small, mound-like breasts when she wasn't looking.
Suddenly, she turned around, caught my gaze, and her face flushed red. She awkwardly tugged at the hem of her tracksuit. When she noticed, I panicked even more and couldn't even speak coherently.
After an awkward silence, Ms. Lin finally spoke, her voice slightly different: "What's your zodiac sign?"
"Dragon," I answered casually.
"You're only 16!"
I knew she was asking a question she already knew the answer to; most of us in the first year of high school were probably 16.
"I've noticed several girls in the class seem to have a thing for you," she said, her tone becoming lively again.
I blushed and glanced at her. "I don't care."
She widened her eyes. "Oh, so confident, you've got high standards."
In my heart, I thought, "Teacher, I've got my eye on you," but what came out was, "I'm still a high school student, how could I have a girlfriend?"
She stopped after saying "But," and didn't continue. At that moment, I noticed she deliberately walked a little behind me, her bright, watery eyes scanning my body from head to toe. I knew many girls liked me not only because I was a good student, but also because I had a good figure and seemed mature for my age.
The conversation ended perfunctorily, but afterwards I noticed the teacher was looking at me much more often, and there seemed to be something else in her eyes.
It was probably late September, during our English class. Ms. Lin turned to write on the blackboard, her arm rising to reveal her slender waist and round, upturned buttocks. I couldn't resist and started masturbating under my desk.
Just as I was about to climax, I suddenly realized the teacher was staring intently at me. My mouth, agape with excitement, froze in place!
"Xiaodong, orally translate the second half of the text."
I stood up in a panic, opened my textbook, and began to translate haltingly. A moment later, the teacher strolled over and stood beside me. Just as I finished translating and put down my textbook, I noticed that the teacher's mouth was also open, but her eyes were staring down at my lower body.
I quickly looked down, and oh my god! My pants were tented in the front. Because of my nervousness, I didn't even notice that my erect penis hadn't gone down! Before the teacher could speak, I quickly sat down and used the desk to cover my lower body. When I looked up at the teacher again, she had already lowered her head and walked towards the podium. Until the end of the class, I didn't dare to look at the teacher again, and the teacher's voice sounded a bit distorted, dry and stiff.
During evening self-study, everyone was concentrating on doing their homework. Teacher Lin quietly walked up to me and said in a mosquito-like voice, "You, could you come out for a moment?"
(IV)
I followed Teacher Lin out of the classroom with my head down. Since I was the English class representative, no one thought it was strange.
We didn't speak the whole way. My mind was in turmoil. On one hand, I felt incredibly ashamed that my secret had been discovered by the teacher I admired so much; on the other hand, I felt a tightness in my chest because I couldn't control myself.
We arrived at the grove of trees where we used to stroll together. The teacher slowed her pace, and I stopped as well. She turned around, and the light from the classroom in the distance illuminated her face. I wonder if anyone else has had the same experience: beautiful women look much better under the lamplight at night than during the day. Her delicate, snow-white face glowed, and her large, dark eyes seemed both hazy and deep to me.
My unease began to turn into a strange excitement in this setting. Who else had the luck to be alone with such a beautiful girl?!
"Xiaodong," she spoke, unconsciously biting her lower lip, "If you keep going like this, it will affect your studies."
I lowered my head and remained silent.
"How could you do this? Have you been reading some bad books?"
I hurriedly protested, "Absolutely not! Teacher, I didn't!"
Another silence followed.
Ms. Lin leaned closer to me, changing her tone as she whispered, "Tell me the truth, how long have you been doing that?"
Seeing I didn't answer, she moved even closer.
"Don't be shy, just tell me."
Her voice trembled, and I could feel it, which only made me feel more wronged. I paused, then said, "It started in elementary school, but teacher, I haven't done anything wrong. I just sometimes feel suffocated, and I can't help it.
" Before I finished speaking, tears streamed down my face. I thought, "Oh no! I've been completely exposed to the teacher!"
A slender, warm hand touched my face. I grasped it like a lifeline, kneading it repeatedly. The teacher's face was almost touching mine.
"I didn't mean to criticize you, I just think that your constant absent-mindedness will affect your studies and college entrance exams." Her voice was a little hoarse. She swallowed and continued, "Actually… actually, I really like you and hope you have a bright future."
I couldn't hold back anymore. I pulled her head onto my shoulder and hugged her back tightly.
The teacher struggled slightly, but quickly quieted down. I stammered, "Teacher, I...I like you too! I liked you the moment you came, and today's incident is because...because..." "Because
of what?" The teacher's voice was a little coquettish. "
Because I've been thinking about you!" I mustered my courage and said it.
"You're so naughty!" The teacher's answer excited me, because I had already learned the meaning of that sentence back in junior high school.
I was no longer timid or hesitant. I cupped the teacher's beautiful face in my hands, buried my face in her mouth, and kissed her lips.
"Mmm...mmm...mmm," the teacher murmured, taken aback by the sudden attack. Soon, her hands wrapped around my arms and head, her lips parted, welcoming my eager tongue.
Wow, the teacher's lips were simply wonderful! Soft, moist, and elastic, I had an urge to bite her.
The teacher's eyes were tightly closed, her face was burning, and her breathing became heavier and heavier. I could clearly feel her firm breasts rising and falling, and I couldn't help but hug her even tighter.
"Xiaodong, you're hurting me!" the teacher gasped, looking up.
I didn't care about that, because my penis was already hard, and the teacher's abdomen was pressed against it, feeling a bit swollen and painful. Based on past experience, I reached out and stroked the teacher's buttocks with my right hand. The teacher's body trembled, pressing even closer to me. My hand continued to wander, returning to the teacher's waist, and began to reach inside from the top of her skirt. But the waistband of the skirt was too tight, and I couldn't get it in at all. So I moved down from the bottom of the skirt, stroking up her thighs.
"Wait a minute!" the teacher pushed me away, deftly loosening the waistband of her skirt. I quickly reached inside, through her small panties, and explored the lush bush.
"Xiaodong! Xiaodong! I'm your teacher!"
The teacher made a superficial struggle, but her body told me, "I like this!" My hand continued to reach down firmly, and at the end of the bush appeared the stream I had been longing for! My fingers were quickly submerged in the stream, wow, what a warm stream!
The teacher's breathing had changed, and her small mouth opened, making a sound that was neither crying nor sobbing: "Hmm... Ah... Ah..." Her hands gripped my back and arms tightly, and I could already feel some pain.

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My Romantic History (A Personal Account)

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