Memories of Junior High School

Looking back, I did quite a few silly things when I was little, and it's funny to think about them now.
Let me first tell you about the school I attended when I was little. It was a factory school, a school run by the factory for the children of its employees.

The school wasn't big, it only had elementary and junior high school sections, and I'm not afraid to admit it.
Haha, there was only one class per grade.
Elementary school was okay, with over fifty students in each class, but junior high had one less class, with fewer than thirty students.
I remember it was my second year of junior high, and that year there was a rumor that repeating the third year of junior high was no longer allowed. I was

n't was afraid I wouldn't get into a good high school.
The school's dean of students and my dad were old friends, and the dean advised my dad to tell me not to take the exam,

but to take it the following year so it wouldn't be considered repeating. So, I didn't go to the high school entrance exam that day, and I didn't dare to go out for the next few days.
And so, I ended up in my second year of junior high again. I'm ashamed of myself.
When I first entered my third year of junior high, a girl transferred to our school in my second year. She

was alright looking, wore a ponytail, and had rather . She often wore bright yellow clothes, and it seemed she had a large bust

. Haha, I'm sensitive to the color yellow, especially bright yellow. I get impure thoughts whenever I see it, haha, a bit of a quirk, right?
But since I was a year older than her, I didn't have much of a chance to talk to her, and we never actually spoke.

However, I would see her bright yellow figure frequently on the school grounds and on my way to and from school. Wow, every time

I saw her, I got impure thoughts, and my penis would swell up. Back then, I wore the kind of underwear my mother made, which was loose and baggy,

and my pants were also baggy sweatpants. Every time, I had to pull my clothes down hard to cover my penis, which would

sometimes rub against my pants, and then the pants would rub against my penis, making it swell even more.
I couldn't even walk, so I had to stop and rest until the swelling subsided.
Why does she always wear bright yellow? It's so mean, like she's deliberately tempting me to commit a crime.
A year passed like this, we saw each other often, but never exchanged a single word. My second year of junior high

started , and the teacher actually assigned me to sit next to her! Good heavens, how am I supposed to focus on repeating a year?
Her surname is a compound surname, and her given name is Jing. I'll just call her Jingjing for now. For the first few days, we still didn't speak.
Until one day, she suddenly asked me how to do this physics problem.
I was stunned and said, "You're asking me?"
"Yes, I'm asking you." "
Oh, I didn't study well. Didn't you go through it once?"
My face flushed red; she brought up something so embarrassing. She was right.
I wasn't good at studying, but I was okay at physics, and besides, it was my second time learning it, so it should

n't be a problem.
My face was red (because someone brought up repeating a year, it was like reopening old wounds), and I vaguely explained the problem to her.

She actually had a strong understanding; she understood after I explained it.
And so we started talking quite naturally. Influenced by Stephen Chow, I tend to be humorous

(more so with acquaintances; I'm more reserved with strangers), and I often managed to make her laugh.
She always wore bright yellow clothes, which was a ticking time bomb next to me. I couldn't concentrate in class. I tried not

to look at her clothes, but when I looked at the blackboard, my peripheral vision would always catch a glimpse of yellow

. The more I tried not to look, the more my peripheral vision would drift towards it.
It was so frustrating! I was torn between thinking, "What are you trying to do, my class?"
Hesitantly, I reached out and gently took her hand. Surprisingly, she didn't react. I pulled her hand to

my lap, and she was still listening to the lesson—impressive!
I gently stroked the back of her hand, then turned it over to touch her palm. She remained focused on the lesson—

I admired her . I touched her hand like this for almost an entire class period.
After class, she acted as if nothing had happened.
I continued touching her hand on and off for a few days until I finally got tired of it.
Our homeroom teacher was also a Chinese teacher. Everyone behaved well in her classes, but they were incredibly boring

. So, I started touching her hands; there was nothing else to do.
I pulled her hand over and touched it a few more times, but it was still uninteresting. I mustered my courage and slowly placed my hand on her leg.

No reaction—that was wonderful, extremely wonderful.
My hand slowly moved to her crotch, and suddenly she grabbed it tightly, refusing to let me touch her again.
It took a lot of force to keep my newly conquered territory.
We're both natural actors; the intense struggle just now didn't show on our faces.

We were both 200% focused on the lesson, more focused than ever before.
She gave up, no longer holding my hand, but still covering that area with her hand—but just barely, leaving my

hand free.
Since it was under her pants, and we were in class, I didn't dare to be too forward.
But while I was touching her, I could feel her body trembling slightly. I touched her under her pants for the entire class. I don't know if she got wet or not

, but as soon as class ended, I rushed to the bathroom.
When she came back, she acted as if nothing had happened, chatting and laughing.
From then on, I came to school especially early at noon, and so did she.
I cornered her at the back of the classroom and took the opportunity to grope her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, just a tank top.
I tried to touch her from below, but her belt was too tight. I tried to pull the clothes tucked inside the belt out, but I

couldn't budge them. I tried to unbuckle the belt, but she absolutely refused. So, I tried to touch her from the neckline down, and she didn't resist much.

I touched her through the tank top; they were big and quite soft. Touching them through the tank top wasn't a good idea, so I pulled my hand out and opened the tank top

a little. Maybe it was because I was too excited, or maybe the tank top was too elastic, but with a forceful pull,

my hand shot out and reached right to her crotch, pushing open the clothes tucked in the belt,

leaving my arm sandwiched between her breasts.
Now I could touch her without worry. They were huge, I couldn't even touch them with one hand. She didn't look like a 14-

year-old girl at all. I'm not exactly 16, but I'm not an adult yet. She was so soft, her nipples were

about the size of red beans, a reddish color, not a pale pink. After touching them for a while, they felt quite hard, but I didn't do anything else.

It was limited to touching her breasts.
I also unzipped her pants, revealing a dark patch, but for some reason, seeing it made me feel disgusted.

I touched it, but my fingers never went inside; I just touched it from the outside.
We never had sex, she gave me a handjob, but we never had oral sex.
After that, every day in class, I would put my hand there (through her pants) but I didn't touch her. Am I becoming a

pervert
Until that day, the homeroom teacher found out. The teacher stared at me intently, and I quietly put my hand back.
I was incredibly nervous, thinking I was doomed. But the teacher didn't say anything.
The next day, I was moved to a different seat, and I wasn't so brazen anymore, only occasionally touching her when no one was around

.
This continued until the high school entrance exam; she got into a top-tier high school, while I only got into an average one.
Because we went to different schools, we never saw each other again. Maybe she knew she wasn't my type,

and honestly, I never cared about her.
I still haven't seen her, but whenever I think back to what happened with her, I still smile happily.
[The End
]

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