Along the way, some incidents and events occurred (Part Two): Fake lewdness

"Fake Lewdness" was my classmate in college. She had a boyfriend from her hometown, and they had been together since high school, with a very good relationship. "Fake Lewdness" was about 162 cm tall, and quite pretty. While not a stunning beauty, she was still considered pretty. She had short hair and was the kind of girl who was very feminine. She was a bit chubby, but you would definitely not think she was fat. Her two breasts, while not dazzling, were definitely not to be missed, and her pert little butt often attracted the attention of many guys.
I wasn't very familiar with her at first, but we got to know each other because my roommate started dating one of her roommates, and we gradually started seeing each other more often. The five of us guys and the two girls (let's call "Fake Lewdness's" roommate "Unsatisfied," whom I also got along very well with) often hung out together. The games were all very innocent. At that time, we mostly played cards in my dorm room. I have to thank our school for this; girls could freely enter the boys' dorm, but boys couldn't freely enter the girls' dorm. However, when it came to someone as intelligent as me, it was fine too. Four of us would play cards, while the rest watched, often arguing heatedly about who got to play first. We'd often get hungry at night and go out to eat together. My college life can be summed up simply: play, eat, sleep. My biggest regret about college was not finding a girlfriend—it was such a damn regret. Actually, I did pursue one, but despite all my efforts, I couldn't win her over. I started pursuing her right after I met "Fake Lewdness," who, along with "Unsatisfied," diligently offered me advice. I'm a person with high IQ but low EQ; pursuing girls is definitely not my forte. I can come up with some bad ideas, but unfortunately, I haven't been able to apply my talents appropriately in all aspects of life. The girl I pursued was considered a fairy by many—a girl with classical beauty, pink lips, crescent-shaped eyebrows, about 175cm tall, fair skin, and long hair—truly breathtaking! Sometimes I'd see her in advertisements at shopping malls; yes, she was a model. When she walked through the campus, the rate of people turning their heads to look was about 200% (about two looks per person on average). There was only one exception: me. I watched her until she was out of sight. I was quite persistent back then, always fixated on "classical beauty." During that period, all other girls were out of my sight. As time went by, classical beauty remained so far away. I knew in my heart that there was no possibility of a romantic relationship between "classical beauty" and me, and I slowly gave up. I spent more and more time with "fake lewdness" and "unsatisfied," and our relationship became closer. Our entertainment became more diverse. We not only played cards in the dormitory, but also often participated in school-organized activities and went shopping together. Back then, I was young and a bit arrogant. I was quite happy to have these two pretty girls by my side. Sometimes, we would stroll around campus hand in hand (we were really showing off), often walking past people with surprised looks. The two girls were so kind, readily satisfying my vanity without any objection, and wearing bright smiles on their faces, as if to tell everyone, "Look closely, I'm doing this willingly, not forced."
Days passed like this, and I don't know when it started, but "Fake Lewdness's" feelings towards me changed. Sometimes I don't understand myself; I really don't know if I'm smart or stupid, sensitive or oblivious. For some girls who showed me affection or subtly flirted with me, I only realized it afterward, and sometimes it was even much later. I have a friend who often visits me; because his school is quite far from mine, he always stays with me. I'm a restless sleeper and like to squeeze in, and he's quite tall, so two people in one bed is definitely cramped. He often complains about me because of this "big guy." One time he came again, and "Fake Lewdness" saw him and said to me, "You two are too cramped sleeping together. Why don't you stay at my place tonight? I'll share a bed with 'Unsatisfied,' we're thinner, it won't be so crowded." I readily accepted "Fake Lewdness's" kind offer without considering whether it was appropriate. One of my biggest strengths is that I tend to believe whatever people tell me, so I live a rather simple life. I didn't even think that a girl's willingness to have a man sleep in her bed every day might imply something else. "Fake Lewdness's" bed smelled wonderful, and I slept soundly. I am indeed a lustful person, but I didn't engage in any lewd behavior while sleeping in "Fake Lewdness's" bed. Her roommates didn't object to my visits, perhaps because I wasn't generally disliked. From then on, every night "Big Guy" came, I would go to "Fake Lewdness's" fragrant bed to sleep, feeling completely at ease and comfortable.
I can't remember when it started, but "Fake Lewdness" and I began to have more private interactions. Sometimes, she would invite me to participate in school performances or small events. Once, at a small concert, the performers were alumni, including a man nicknamed "Three-Faced Man." Why "Three-Faced Man"? Because he was average-looking, average-singing, and average-playing on the piano. This "average-of-three man," during his performance, somehow set his sights on the "fake slut" next to me. The "fake slut" quietly pointed him out to me, telling me that the man kept staring at her. I looked closely, and sure enough, it was true. The "fake slut" was very happy; I can understand, being noticed always makes one feel proud. After the concert, the "fake slut" happily went home with me. That day, I was riding my bicycle with her on the back, and we had a "car accident" on a perfectly safe road. We didn't crash into any cars or people; we hit the curb. I wasn't injured, but the "fake slut" was, injured in a very sexy part of her body—her buttocks. Her buttocks were scraped by the metal of the back seat. I remember the "fake slut" was groaning while clutching her buttocks. I asked her what happened; at first she wouldn't say, but later she told me she was bleeding. I was shocked; I couldn't see that part of the body and couldn't judge the severity of the injury. Thankfully, she said the bleeding wasn't much, so I quickly took her back to her dorm and then sped to the pharmacy, buying cotton balls, Yunnan Baiyao (a traditional Chinese medicine), bandages, and one thing I shouldn't have bought—alcohol. Alcohol is something I often use for cuts, so I bought it. Following past experience, I carefully instructed "Unsatisfied" on howling at "Fake Lust," and then waited downstairs at the dorm. A little while later, I heard "Fake Lust's" pig-like screams. It felt like the sound wasn't coming from "Unsatisfied" but from the Kuomintang reactionaries. At that moment, I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Later, I learned the wound wasn't large, but it would definitely leave a scar. This scar was confirmed when I kissed her buttocks later.
My relationship with "Fake Lust" developed further during a trip. "Fake Lust" and "Unsatisfied" asked me and another guy to go to a tourist attraction where we could stay overnight. The other guy and I readily agreed. That night, we mainly just wandered around and took pictures; I still have those photos to this day. That same evening after our trip, "Fake Lewdness" suddenly approached me and said she wanted to go again that night. I asked if she hadn't had enough. She said yes. I said okay, I'd go get them. She said no need, just the two of us. I honestly don't remember how I felt or reacted when she said that, but I'm sure I sensed something subtle. When we got there, we strolled around again, but our moods were completely different from the day before. Tired from walking, we found a spot, spread out the sheets we'd brought, and sat there chatting. As we talked, "Fake Lewdness" said she was tired and lay down on my lap. Soon, our physical contact wasn't limited to our heads and thighs; that night was spent caressing. The consequence was that I was incredibly aroused!
After that night, "Fake Lewdness" and I began our secret affair. I remember clearly that it was a dark night when "Fake Lewdness" came to my dorm. She moved a stool and sat on the edge of my bed. We chatted quietly. I took her hand and slowly slipped it under my blanket. At first, she resisted a little, but then she became more proactive, clumsily using her soft, white hand to stroke my penis. At that moment, my penis was incredibly hard; I felt like I could lend it to Wu Song to fight a tiger without any problem. We chatted and lewdly acted like that. I remember this scene very vividly because it was a kind of tension and excitement. Finally, she left the dorm holding my penis in her hands.
I was definitely not satisfied with just kissing and hugging in my relationship with "Fake Lust." I figured she was probably even more eager than I was. So I suggested taking her to "Big Guy's" place, and "Fake Lust" happily agreed. "Big Guy" was a smart guy; he knew what I was up to, so he gave his roommates a strict order: no matter what they did that night, they couldn't go back to their dorm to sleep. After accepting "Big Guy's" dinner invitation, I hurriedly led "Fake Lust" back to his dorm. I remember she was wearing a thin black sweater and blue jeans that day. "Fake Lust" was a little nervous, and so was I; back then, I was still a novice when it came to lust. I carried "Fake Lust" onto "Big Guy's" bed. We hugged each other tightly, rubbing our bodies together. We kissed each other roughly while our hands roamed over each other's bodies. "Fake Lust's" breathing went from light to heavy, from slow to rapid. I suddenly realized that her reaction was especially strong when I kissed her ear, so I nibbled at it more gently while my hand continued to explore her genitals. "Fake Promiscuous" wasn't going to back down; she nibbled at my ear too and slipped her hand inside my... That night of frenzied lovemaking, I wonder how much "Fake Promiscuous" still remembers!
After we finished our physical intimacy, "Fake Promiscuous" asked me to be her girlfriend; she wanted to break up with her boyfriend. This was a serious matter. Frankly, at that time, I only had sexual desire for "Fake Promiscuous," not emotional attachment, so I didn't agree. It wasn't because "Fake Promiscuous" slept with me while she had a boyfriend that I thought she was promiscuous, nor was it that I disliked her at all. It was just that I was too picky when choosing a girlfriend, and now it seems many of those picky criteria were unnecessary. Because I didn't agree to "Fake Promiscuous's" request, she was somewhat disappointed, and after our relationship lasted for a while, she suggested ending it. I learned a lesson from "Fake Lewdness." From then on, I made it clear to every girl I slept with that we were just friends, not lovers.
"Fake Lewdness" is etched in my memory, and I think the reason for this depth is the guilt I felt towards her. Indeed, I've always felt guilty towards her, perhaps because I hurt her not only as a girl, but also as a friend. I've always wanted to tell her, but I know it's pointless; telling her would only satisfy myself. Today, she's a wife and mother, living a happy life. I went to her and said that it's better to occasionally think of her in my heart!
(Details omitted.)

URL 1:http://localhost:909/htmlBlog/98925.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=98925&aspx=1

Previous Page : A True Story of My Wife and My Boss (A Happy Journey)

Next Page : A memory of mine

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Along the way, some incidents and events occurred (Part Two): Fake lewdness

comment Open a new window to view comments