Lost Campus Life

In those bygone years, there remained my once unattainable ideals, ideals that had once ignited my passion. Fragments of memory began to surface randomly in my mind.

Let's start from my sophomore year; I don't remember the exact dates. Looking back now, my unit of time in university was years.

Xiao Jiao was a classmate I met in the external relations department of the student union; she wasn't my girlfriend. Why did we get together? I think it was mostly due to the disappointment that followed our freshman year's anticipation of university life and our sophomore year; we built trust and understanding in each other after working together in the student union for a long time. Sometimes, when we had free time, we'd go out to eat at a restaurant or find a clean hotel to have some fun.

She wasn't a promiscuous girl; she was pretty, with long hair, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses that gave her an intellectual air. She wore warm-colored short-sleeved shirts, and in autumn and winter, she'd wear a scarf with red flowers around her neck. She often wore light-colored jeans, and her slightly protruding breasts, slim waist, and pert bottom made her a healthy and sunny girl. My romantic encounters are few and far between. Perhaps I'm a coward with lustful desires but no guts. Forrest Gump said fools do foolish things, and there are things bold people do that I simply can't do.

The few memories I have are fragmented. I don't have the typical "first time complex" that most people have. Some scenes I recall afterward, but it's always the same few moments. But they were real.

In my hazy, drunken eyes, I seem to see myself again at the end of my sophomore year, in a room outside the west gate of the school, my right arm under my head, staring blankly at the ceiling. I remove my left hand from Xiao Jiao's body. I turn to look at her naked body, her shapely figure still glistening with the fragrant sweat of our encounter. Her long hair is scattered on the pillow, her delicate breasts rising and falling with her breath.

I don't know what I've been doing these past two years. My good college entrance exam scores sent me to an enviable prestigious university, but a huge sense of emptiness swept over me as I learned more about university life. If before, in my naivety, I wanted to be a great person (whether it was as a government official, a businessman, or a scholar), now all I have left are games, books, and bottles of alcohol.

Xiao Jiao straddled me again, her delicate oval face and B-cup breasts, though not particularly full, were firm and plump, offering a unique sensation in my hands. I don't particularly like women with large, round buttocks; too much of a thing is a burden. She rubbed her genitals against my body repeatedly, and I admired her pert bottom. My hands once again grasped her lovely breasts, and she leaned against me, kissing me. Her soft, wet tongue moved like a snake in my mouth. Aroused, she began rubbing her breasts against my face. I withdrew my right hand, gently stroking her pubic hair, then continued downwards, parting her labia and inserting my index finger into her narrow passage. With each in-and-out motion, she moaned comfortably. My left hand kneaded her buttocks.

Suddenly aroused, I rolled over and pinned her down, penetrating her completely, and began to move. Her narrow passage tightly enveloped my member, and she was also aroused by my sudden action. A soft

, coquettish voice rang out : "Oh... I can't take it... It feels so good... Oh, what are you doing... Oh..." The friction against my penis felt like it had grown a little bigger, and I began to thrust vigorously. Only panting could be heard in the room. "Ah... Ah..."

Finally, I thrust a few more times, leaving my two hundred million offspring deep inside her.

"Ah, are you crazy? You came outside!" the little girl snapped angrily.

I ignored her, sat up, took a cigarette from the pack on the bedside table, lit it, and started smoking.

In the smoke that filled the room, I was reminded of my high school days. Back then, I knew nothing, yet I desperately did practice problems to meet my parents' expectations and satisfy my own vanity, striving for high scores. I swore then that after the college entrance exam, I would never waste my life on exams again, and would live my own glorious years.

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