My name is Wang Mei, I'm 22 years old, sharing an apartment near the university district.
Average-looking, height 168 cm, slightly plump, with relatively full breasts and buttocks. My family runs a small business in the county town, and after I came out to study, I lived with a roommate of the same age. Housing near the school district is tight, we only rented a one-bedroom apartment, with one large bed and one folding bed. Initially, it was agreed he would sleep on the large bed, and I on the folding bed, and life went on like this.
On a night two months later, I had a slight fever and felt dizzy and heavy-headed. I hadn’t eaten much and just wanted to sleep. My roommate saw that I felt awful and said, "You sleep in the big bed; I’ll sleep on the folding one." I didn’t think much of it, and fell asleep lying diagonally on the big bed.
Who knows how long had passed. I felt a hand lightly brush the outside of my thigh. I moved groggily. He immediately stopped and asked in a low voice, “Meizi, are you awake? Do you still feel bad?”
I don't answer. But my heartbeat quickens.
He waited a few seconds and asked again. I still didn’t make a sound. He seemed to take my silence as some kind of permission. His hand came down again, this time more lightly, only resting against the hem of the silk nightgown without rushing to probe inside.
I know I could tell him to stop at any time. But I didn't.
His breathing grew heavier. After a while, he carefully climbed onto the bed, knelt between my legs, and said in a tight voice, “If you don’t want to, just call my name. I’ll stop right away.”
I still kept my eyes closed but spread my legs a little wider.
His hands trembled a little as he undid his pants. When the scorching tip pressed against me, I was already wet. He didn’t go in immediately, but used the tip to slowly grind at the entrance, as if confirming that I truly wasn’t refusing. Only when my breathing grew ragged did he begin to ease in little by little.
Too swollen. I frowned slightly, but still endured it without making a sound. He entered very slowly, stopping a little at each advance to let me adjust. After he was fully inside, he let out a low pant and asked, “Are you okay?”
I softly uttered an "Mm-hmm."
Only then did he begin to move. At first it was shallow and slow, then gradually deeper. I had originally wanted to keep pretending to be asleep, but my body was more honest than my will; the inner walls contracted uncontrollably, and my legs took the initiative to wrap around him. Seeing my response, his movements immediately grew heavier, yet he still never fully let go.
During ejaculation, he pushed hard into the deepest part, the hot liquid pouring in without a drop leaking out. I could feel it overflowing along the inner walls. He lay on me panting for a long time before pulling out, helping me pull down my nightgown, and then went to the folding bed himself.
I lay there, a wet stickiness between my legs. Guilt and satisfaction churned together, keeping me awake most of the night.
The next morning when he woke me up, I acted as if nothing had happened. During the meal, he secretly glanced at me; I pretended not to see. After he left for class, I sat alone on the edge of the bed for a long time in a daze, then went downstairs to buy emergency contraception.
The neighbor is a girl of the same age, also sharing a rental nearby, with an outgoing personality. During our casual chat, we somehow ended up discussing the awkwardness of cohabitation and the desires of young people. She smiled and said, 'We're already twenty-two. What happens behind closed doors—if you're willing, you're willing; if you're not, just say no. Don't scare yourself.'
Her words seemed to flip a switch.
A week later that night, I took the initiative to change into a silk nightgown, with nothing underneath, and lay on the big bed. After he came back and saw me, he paused, then walked over, sat down by the bed, and asked me seriously:
“Meizi, are you sure?”
I nodded.
This time, there was no pretending to sleep, no testing. His hands trembled when he kissed me, but when he entered, it was steady and deep. I no longer suppressed my voice, wrapped my legs around his waist, and actively met his movements. He seemed finally allowed to release, thrusting deep inside again and again, asking me, 'Is this okay?' 'Deeper or slower?'
I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder and answered him, 'Either is fine... as long as it's you.'
That night we did it for a long time. He came once in the middle, and during the break I took the initiative to climb down and clean him with my mouth, making him hard again. The second time he had me straddle him and move on my own, his hands holding my waist, his eyes watching me the whole time. When I climaxed, I bit his finger, my inner walls tightening, bringing him to orgasm too.
The days that followed became both ordinary and secretive.
During the day, we are still ordinary roommates sharing an apartment, eating together, discussing homework, occasionally arguing. At night, as long as both of us are home, once the door closes, it's a different story. Sometimes he enters from behind, sometimes I take the initiative to ride him. He likes watching my expression when I'm filled; I like hearing him whisper my name at the deepest point.
We agreed: exclusive to each other, but maintaining roommate boundaries when not having sex. No promises of forever, yet we both knew this relationship had already surpassed that of ordinary roommates.
Once after finishing, I lay on his chest and suddenly asked, 'Does it feel weird?'
He thought about it and said, “Twenty-two already. If you’re willing, we continue; if you’re not, we can stop anytime. I won’t force you, and don’t force yourself either.”
I nodded and buried my face deeper.
Summer in the university town is long. In the one-bedroom apartment they shared, the folding bed gradually lost its use. On the big bed, there were now the scents of two people, intertwined breaths, and those words with a hint of desire that were only spoken at night.
Some relationships, once they begin, will never return to their starting point.
And we are all adults, clear about what we are doing, and willing to take responsibility for this voluntary closeness.
When summer truly turned hot, the shared one-bedroom apartment became even more like a place for two people.
The folding bed was completely pushed into the corner, piled with seasonal clothes and textbooks that hadn't been organized yet. The large bed became the only sleeping area. Wang Mei would sometimes remind him before his class: 'If you have an experiment class tonight, send a message in advance so I can turn on the air conditioner.' He would always reply with an 'Okay,' adding, 'You sleep first, don't wait for me.'
But she almost always waited.
Once when his experiment ran very late, he returned after eleven. As soon as the door opened, he saw her leaning against the headboard, only the bedside lamp on, the shoulder strap of her silk nightgown slipped down her arm. She wasn't pretending to sleep, just looked up at him, her voice a bit hoarse:
“You’re back?”
He nodded, put down his backpack, and walked over. She took the initiative to reach out and pull at the hem of his shirt, bringing him to the bedside. The kissing started at the corners of their lips and gradually deepened. Her hands were already skillfully undoing his buttons, while he slipped her nightgown off her shoulders. Neither of them had anything extra to say, as if they were carrying out something both were already familiar with.
As he entered, he deliberately slowed down, waiting for her to adjust before moving. She wrapped her legs around him, her heels gently pressing against the small of his back, urging him to go deeper. He lowered his head to kiss her collarbone, but his thrusts grew heavier and heavier. Soon, the room was filled only with the sound of bodies colliding and suppressed gasps. When she climaxed, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her teeth lightly biting his skin, her inner walls contracting in waves. He held back until she recovered before releasing himself deep inside.
Afterward he did not pull out right away, but lay on his side in their joined position, his palm pressed against her sweat-damp back. Her breathing gradually steadied, and then she suddenly spoke:
“Saw you talking to a girl in the library today.”
His movement paused for a moment: “They’re in the same group, discussing experimental data.”
“I know.” She buried her face even tighter. “It’s just that I suddenly feel a bit... jealous.”
He let out a low chuckle, his hand moving down to cover her butt again: “And now?”
She didn't answer, just lifted her hips, letting his not-yet-fully-soft thing bury itself a little deeper. They did it once more, this time slower and tighter. When it ended, she lazily lay on his chest and said:
“I’m not jealous anymore now.”
Life went on like this.
During the day, they were still ordinary roommates sharing an apartment. They went to the cafeteria together, bought late-night snacks at the convenience store downstairs together, occasionally argued about who should do the dishes. Once the door closed at night, the boundaries disappeared. Sometimes she would actively straddle him, controlling the rhythm herself; sometimes he would enter from behind, one hand reaching around to fondle her breasts, the other pressing her hand to let her touch where they were joined. At first she was shy, but gradually she got used to it, even actively lowering her hips further to let him go deeper.
Once in the middle of it, he suddenly stopped, forehead against hers, and asked:
"What if someone finds out?"
Looking into his eyes, she thought for a few seconds and answered seriously, 'Then let them know. We're both twenty-two, it's not like we did anything wrong.'
He didn't say anything more, just started moving again, this time heavier than usual. She was thrust forward again and again, then pulled back by him, and in the end cried as she climaxed, yet still spread her legs wider.
Mid-semester, her supervisor suddenly arranged a ten-day off-campus research trip. The night before she left, the two of them barely slept. She asked him to cum inside her, saying "there's medicine anyway." He did as she asked, but after finishing, he still cleaned her up and fed her the contraceptive pill. She leaned against his chest and whispered:
“The first thing when you get back is to have you.”
“Good.”
During those ten days, they talked every day. Sometimes it was a simple check-in, sometimes a late-night video call. She would prop up her phone, slowly take off her clothes piece by piece, pose as he requested, using her fingers to mimic his entry. On the other end, he would grip himself, releasing to the sound of her voice. After hanging up, both would fall silent for a moment before softly saying, 'I miss you.'
The day she came back, he specially took time off to go to the station to meet her. As soon as the two met, they kissed, and the luggage was casually dumped at the door of the rented room. Clothes were thrown from the entrance to the bedside. Just as she had said, there was almost no foreplay; she positioned herself on her own, presenting her back hole to him — that was something they only started trying later.
“Come in directly.”
He applied lubricant, but still first used his fingers to confirm that she was relaxed enough before slowly entering. The moment he fully went in, both of them let out satisfied sighs. This time they did it fiercely and urgently, as if trying to make up for all the days of separation. When she climaxed, she cried out—not from pain, but from the grievance and satisfaction of being filled so full and so deep, and not having been filled like this for so long. He bent down to kiss away her tears, but his lower body never stopped.
"I'm here."
“I know... continue...”
During ejaculation, he pushed hard into the deepest part, giving her everything. She tightened, buried her face in the pillow, and said in a muffled voice:
“Don’t go out……just stay like this for a while.”
He did as told.
When autumn came, the shared rental contract was about to expire. The landlord said they could renew or switch to a larger two-bedroom. The two sat on the edge of the bed and discussed for a long time. Finally, she said:
“Let’s renew to a one-bedroom, one-living-room place. If it’s two bedrooms, at night I’d still have to walk through the hallway to touch you, too much trouble.”
He laughed and pulled her into his arms: “Then that folding bed can be thrown away.”
“Should’ve thrown it away long ago.”
On the night the contract was renewed, they bought some alcohol. They didn’t drink much, just enough to flush their faces. She took the initiative to climb onto his lap, undid her clothes herself, and brought her chest to his mouth. He took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling it, while his lower body was already hard, pressing against her thighs. She lifted her hips and sat down on him herself; after swallowing him completely, she began moving slowly. The alcohol made both of them bolder. As she moved, she whispered words she would absolutely never say normally; he supported her hips and thrust upward, each stroke deep and heavy.
When the climax hit, her whole body trembled, her inner walls clenching him tightly. He didn't come immediately but laid her down and continued from the front. Her legs were pressed wide open; with every thrust, she could see herself being stretched open. She reached down, touching the place where they were joined, her voice already hoarse:
"So deep... it's all inside now..."
At the final push, she came again. The feeling of semen pouring in made her tremble, but she still kept her legs tightly wrapped, refusing to let him pull out.
Afterward, they lay together, and the wind outside made the curtains sway gently. Her fingers traced circles on his chest, and she suddenly said:
“When you graduate next year, where do you plan to go?”
“In this city, I’ve already found an internship. What about you?”
“Also in this city. The spot for graduate study has already been decided.”
He took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it: “Then let’s keep living together.”
“Good.”
When winter came, the big bed had an extra-thick quilt. The two of us often curled up inside it for the whole day. Sometimes he entered from behind, one hand reaching into the quilt to knead her breasts, the other holding her hand and guiding both to the point of union; sometimes she took the initiative to straddle him, controlling the depth herself, her nipples swaying before his eyes with each rise and fall. Afterward neither of them was in a hurry to get up, and they stayed connected like that, listening to each other’s heartbeat.
Once in the middle of it, he suddenly asked:
"Will there be a day when you get tired of it?"
She thought for a moment, then answered seriously: "I might. But not yet. What about you?"
“No.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “At least for now, I just want to keep going.”
She nodded and kissed him proactively. As the kiss deepened, both of them became hard again. This time they did it especially slowly, as if trying to say all the unspoken words with their bodies. By the time it ended, it was snowing outside. Leaning against his chest, listening to the faint sound of snow falling on the windowsill, she suddenly felt a deep quietness in her heart.
Life in the university town is still long.
In the one-bedroom apartment they shared, the folding bed was never unfolded again. Left on the big bed were the two of their scents, their intertwined breathing, and those intimacies that appeared only at night, carrying both desire and cherishing.
They were both adults, twenty-two years old.
Being clear about what one is doing and willing to take responsibility for this voluntary closeness.
And the story is still continuing.
——
One weekend a few months later, one of her high school classmates came to visit. The classmate was a straightforward girl. After entering and looking at the room, which had only one large bed, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “You two...?”
Wang Mei did not avoid the question, just said calmly, "Living together. Also together."
The classmate was stunned for a moment, then laughed: “Alright then, you’re already twenty-two; just make sure you understand your own affairs.”
After seeing the classmates off, he came out of the kitchen and asked, 'What were you talking about just now?'
“I told the truth.” She walked over and took the initiative to wrap her arms around his waist. “Anyway, it’s not like it’s something shameful.”
He lowered his head and kissed her. As he kissed her, his hand slipped into her clothes. She did not refuse, and instead pressed her body closer. This time they did not go to the bedroom; they stayed on the sofa in the living room. She straddled him, sank down on her own, and braced herself on his shoulders with both hands, moving slowly. Sunlight came in from outside the window, making the outlines of the two of them very clear. She looked into his eyes and suddenly said:
“From now on, if we have to meet the parents, how should we say it?”
He supported her hips and thrust upward slightly. “Just say we met through sharing a rental place. As for the rest, we can talk about it later.”
She smiled, quickened her pace. When orgasm hit, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her voice trembling, yet she repeated that phrase once more:
"We're both adults."
He answered and released at the deepest point.
When the semen remained inside, she didn't get up immediately, just sat there, feeling it slowly overflow. After a long time, she whispered:
“Go on. At least right now, I want to continue.”
He nodded and held her even tighter.
The wind in the university town is still blowing. In the small shared room, the two of them gave both their bodies and their hearts to each other. No one forced them, and no one regretted it.
When winter truly turns cold, thin ice begins to form on the ground in the university town.
In the one-bedroom apartment they shared, the heater became the most important thing. Sometimes Wang Mei would warm the blanket in advance before he got out of class, and when he came back, he could just crawl straight in. He, in turn, got used to rubbing his frost-red hands warm at the door before slipping them inside her clothes. The icy touch made her shrink a little, but she never dodged; instead, she actively offered her body to him.
Once when his lab class ran very late, she was already asleep when he returned. He gently got into bed, thinking just to sleep holding her, but as soon as his hand touched her waist, she woke up. Without turning on the light, she turned over in the dark and kissed him proactively. As the kissing continued, she guided his hand downward, pulling her sleep pants down to her knees herself. When he entered, both of them let out a sigh, as if finally returning to where they should be. This time they did it extremely slowly, each withdrawal almost pulling out completely before sinking back in fully. She spread her legs wide, hands on his chest, whispering, 'Deeper... just like that.'
After ejaculation, he didn't withdraw, just lay on his side in the connected position. Her fingers slowly traced on his back, and she suddenly spoke:
“Next month I’m going back home for a trip. For New Year.”
He gave an “mm.”
“And you?”
“Also coming back. Probably staying five days.”
She was silent for a moment, then buried her face in the crook of his neck: 'What about those five days...?'
He chuckled softly, his palm covering her butt as he gave it a light squeeze: “A video. Or hold it in.”
She bit his shoulder, not with much force, but carrying a bit of resentment. He knew she was expressing reluctance to part, so he became hard again, and while he was still not completely soft, he did it once more. This time she was very proactive, riding on top of him and rising and falling, her nipples swaying in front of his eyes with each movement. At the moment of climax her whole body tensed, the inner walls clamping tightly around him, and she brought him off as well.
The five days apart were harder than expected.
She video-called every night. Sometimes they just talked about family matters; other times, she would prop up her phone, take off her clothes, and pose as he requested. He watched from the other end, holding himself, releasing to the sound of her voice. Once, she used her fingers to mimic his entry, moving while panting: 'I miss you so much... it feels so empty inside.' It gave him chills. When he came, she also climaxed; the wetness between her legs was visible on the screen.
On the day they met again, both of them took leave. As soon as she came out of the station, she threw herself into his arms. The luggage was tossed at the door of the rental room, and clothes were thrown from the entrance all the way to the bed. She almost immediately lay down properly, presenting her back hole toward him—that was something they gradually tried and got used to later.
“Come in directly. I’m ready.”
He applied lubricant, but still first confirmed it with his fingers before slowly entering. The moment he fully went in, she let out a long sigh, as if finally being filled. This time they did it heavily and urgently, as if trying to make up for the days apart. When she climaxed, she cried out, her voice trembling: 'Too full... really too full...' He bent down to kiss the back of her neck, but his lower body never stopped, until he too released deep inside.
The sensation of semen remaining inside made her tremble slightly, yet she still lowered her waist further, not letting him withdraw.
The days that followed became even more intimate.
During the day, they still had their respective classes, but at night they almost never slept apart anymore. The folding bed was completely relegated to a storage rack. The large bed now held two pillows, their intermingled breaths, and those desire-filled conversations that only appeared at night. Sometimes he would enter from behind, one hand reaching around to fondle her breasts, the other pressing her hand to touch their joining place together; sometimes she would actively straddle him, controlling the depth herself, watching his expression as she moved.
Once in the middle of it, he suddenly stopped and asked:
"What if work after graduation isn’t in the same city?"
Looking at him, she thought for a long time and answered seriously, 'Then try to find jobs in the same city. If it really doesn't work out... we'll figure something out. But at least for now, I don't want to stop.'
He nodded and started moving again. This time he was gentler than usual; each entry was deep and slow, as if confirming something. When it ended, she leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and suddenly felt an unshakable sense of calm in her heart.
Near the end of the semester, her supervisor suddenly added a group presentation. She prepared until very late, and when she returned, he was already asleep. She didn't turn on the main light, just gently got into bed and hugged him from behind. He woke up, turned over, and kissed her in the dark. As the kissing continued, she actively lifted her leg, letting him enter. Neither of them spoke, just using their bodies to exchange the day's fatigue and longing. After he came, he cleaned her up and held her in his arms. She quickly fell asleep, her breathing becoming steady.
When spring came, the trees in the university district began to sprout new buds.
The contract still had a few months left. The two formally discussed life after graduation. He had already received an offer from a company in this city, while she had confirmed her spot in this school’s graduate program. Staying or leaving, both options were in this city. On the night they signed the lease extension, they bought some small cakes and alcohol and celebrated simply.
They hadn't drunk much, but their faces were both flushed. She actively climbed onto his lap, undid her clothes herself, and brought her chest to his mouth. He took it in, his tongue circling her nipple, his lower half already hard. She lifted her hips and sat down, swallowing him whole before starting to slowly move up and down. The alcohol made both of them bolder. As she moved, she whispered things she would never say normally; he held her buttocks, thrusting upward, each stroke deep and heavy.
When the climax hit, her whole body trembled, her inner walls clenching him tightly. He didn't come immediately but laid her down and continued from the front. Her legs were pressed wide open; with every thrust, she could see herself being stretched open. She reached down, touching the place where they were joined, her voice already hoarse:
"So deep... it's all inside now..."
At the final push, she came again. The feeling of semen pouring in made her tremble, but she still kept her legs tightly wrapped.
Afterward, they lay together, and the wind outside rustled the new leaves. Her fingers traced circles on his chest, and she suddenly said:
“From now on, if we have to meet the parents, just say we met as roommates. As for the rest, let’s decide it after we figure it out ourselves.”
He took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it: "Okay."
Time continued to move forward.
Once her high school classmate came to visit again and stayed overnight. The classmate was very direct. During dinner, looking at the room with only one large bed, she smiled and asked: 'Which side do each of you sleep on now?'
Wang Mei did not avoid it: "Sleeping together. Also together... other things."
The classmate gave a whistle, but did not ask further, only saying: “You’re already twenty-two; just make sure you understand your own affairs. I wish you happiness.”
After seeing the classmates off, he came out of the kitchen and asked what they had just said. She told him truthfully. After listening, he just pulled her into his arms and kissed her. As they kissed, his hand slipped into her clothes. She didn't refuse; instead, she pressed her body closer. This time they didn't go to the bedroom; it was right on the living room sofa. She straddled him, sank down, braced her hands on his shoulders, and slowly began to move. The setting sun shone through the window, warming the outlines of their bodies. Looking into his eyes, she suddenly said:
“I think this is pretty good.”
He supported her hips and thrust upward slightly. “Me too.”
She smiled, quickened her pace. When orgasm hit, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her voice trembling, yet she repeated that phrase once more:
"We're both adults."
He answered and released at the deepest point.
When the semen remained inside, she didn't get up immediately, just sat there, feeling it slowly overflow. After a long time, she whispered:
“Go on. At least right now, I want to continue.”
He nodded and held her even tighter.
The wind in the university town is still blowing. In the small shared room, the two of them gave both their bodies and their hearts to each other. No one forced them, and no one regretted it.
The story written up to this point is still just a page in the middle.
And they both know that as long as they are willing, they can keep writing.
——
Several weeks later, on a rainy night, she suddenly asked him:
"If one day, one of us gets bored first, what then?"
He thought for a long time, then answered seriously: “Then be honest. Don’t drag it out, don’t lie. We promised each other that only if it was voluntary would we continue.”
She nodded, burying her face in his chest. The rain was loud against the window, creating a rhythmic beat. His hand slowly stroked her back, but his lower body was already reacting. She felt it, looked up at him, her eyes filled with both amusement and desire.
“I’m not tired of it yet.”
“I know.”
She took the initiative to straddle him and guided him in herself. This time they did it very slowly, and every rise and fall seemed to be confirming something. By the time it ended, the rain still hadn’t stopped. She leaned against him, listening to the rain and their heartbeats, and suddenly felt full inside.
College days are still going on.
In the one-bedroom apartment they shared, the big bed became their most familiar place. On the folding bed, piled with textbooks and out-of-season clothes, nothing had been unfolded again. The two of them handed over their most private desires and their most ordinary lives to each other, as if every tentative closeness they had explored had been brewed into something thicker and hotter, belonging only to the two of them.
No one forced it.
And no one regretted it.
And the story is still being written forward.
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