Read the erotic story. : In the abandoned school gym.
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Read the erotic story. In the abandoned school gym.
It had been raining heavily since 3 pm. The musty smell of the old gymnastics mats mingled with the scent of rain splashing in through the broken side window. This school gym had been abandoned for three years since they moved to a new building. My girlfriend and I had taken shelter here because our motorcycle broke down on the way home.
Her name is Bo, a younger student in the music class. She's small, fair-skinned, with shoulder-length hair, and usually wears a wrinkled school uniform from band practice every evening. That day, she was wearing a white polo shirt and a knee-length pleated skirt, both soaked from the rain.
Once inside the gym, I quickly wrung out my jacket. I sat down on the old, hard gym mat, watching Bo shivering by the door. She turned to look at me and gave a weak smile. "Brother, we can't wait until the rain stops to go home."
I got up and went to her, taking her cold, slender hand. "Let me find some light," I said, walking to the electrical control panel behind the bleachers. I switched on the lights and found only two emergency lights in the corner of the gym. The dim orange light gave the gym a strange, ethereal atmosphere.
Bo followed me, standing against the concrete wall, arms crossed, watching me. “Do you remember, P’ (older sibling/senior)? When you were in 12th grade and you were my senior in charge of band rehearsals?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. I remember it well, because back then, I fell in love with her at first sight.
I sat down on the gym mat again, patting the seat beside me. She sat a little distance away, her hands on her lap, gripping her skirt tightly. The wetness from her skirt seeped into the mat.
The rain was still pouring down outside the gym, and thunder rumbled intermittently. Nong Bo turned to look at me. Her large eyes held a certain sparkle I had never seen before. She moved a little closer. “P’ (older sibling/senior), I’m scared of the thunder.” Her trembling voice made me sense something silently weighing on my heart.
I took a deep breath. The scent of her shampoo mixed with the rain wafted to my nose. My hand gently touched her shoulder. She didn’t move away; she simply looked up at me with a look that seemed to be pleading for something. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be with you.”
Nong Bo moved closer to me. Her head rested on my shoulder, her small hands gripping my arm tightly. I could feel her warm body, damp from the rain but still soft. The skirt she was wearing was so wet that I could clearly see the shape of her slender legs through the fabric.
My heart raced. My hand, which had been on her shoulder, moved down to her thin waist. She didn't move, didn't stop, didn't refuse, just breathed a little harder. "I'm so cold, P' Bo," she whispered in my ear. I knew then that neither of us was thinking about just keeping warm anymore.
I gently lifted her chin, gazing into her eyes in the dim light. Her gaze was filled with consent and a long-suppressed desire. I leaned down and slowly kissed her soft lips. She responded immediately, her small hands wrapping tightly around my neck. Her tongue was warm and sweet.
The kiss lasted so long I could barely breathe. When we separated, she was slightly breathless, her cheeks flushed in the dim light. "P' Bo... you know I've liked you for a long time, don't you?" I smiled at her before whispering in her ear, "I've liked you too, ever since band rehearsals." My hand slowly moved to caress her thigh.
She flinched slightly at my touch through her wet skirt, but didn't move away. Instead, she spread her legs a little wider. I knew instantly that tonight wouldn't just be a casual conversation in an abandoned gym.
My hand slowly moved up her smooth thighs to the hem of her skirt, damp from the rain. Her white school shirt was now soaking wet, almost translucent, revealing the faint outline of her white bra through the fabric. Her nipples became more prominent as they were wet. I almost held my breath.
"Koi..." I whispered her name, my hands beginning to unbutton her shirt, one button at a time. She didn't resist, just gazed at me with sparkling eyes. Her small hands gripped the hem of my shirt tightly as well.
When the last button came undone, I lifted her shirt, revealing her small, well-proportioned body in white lingerie. Her breasts rose and fell with her increasingly rapid breathing. I leaned down and nuzzled her fragrant neck.
“P’ Bo… I’m scared…” she whispered, but her voice held no fear, only excitement and desire.
“Don’t be afraid,” I comforted, my hand stroking her slender waist and then down to the edge of her panties. “I’ll take care of you.”
My tongue touched her earlobe. She flinched, her small body twitching slightly before she slumped against my chest. Her breathing became heavier. My hand moved between her legs, touching through the thin, damp fabric.
“Mmm… P’ Bo…” she moaned softly as my fingertips pressed on that spot through her panties.
I slowly removed her panties. The smooth, beautiful vulva of a young girl was revealed. The pubic hair was sparse and light-colored, befitting her age. I crouched down to get a closer look before leaning my face closer.
“Brother… what are you doing…?” she asked, her voice trembling, but instead, her hand pressed my head down.
I buried my face between her legs, my tongue touching the small, hardening clitoris. She moaned in rhythm with my tongue, her small body writhing with the intense pleasure that coursed through her.
“Ahhh… Brother Bo… I… I can’t take it anymore…” Her voice was broken, her small hands gripping me tightly.
Soon, I felt her vaginal fluids beginning to flow. The faint, slightly sweet taste, mixed with her soft scent, made my penis hard as if it were about to explode. I quickly took off my sweatpants, satisfying my pent-up desire.
My penis stood erect in the dim light. She looked at it with wide, round eyes before reaching out her small hand to gently touch it. That touch sent shivers down my spine.
“It’s so big…” she murmured, making me smile slightly amidst my surging lust.
At that moment, the rain subsided, allowing me to hear our hearts pounding erratically. I pulled her down onto the cushion covered with both of our shirts. Her small body lay before me, open to everything.
I straddled her, my erection poised at her vagina. She closed her eyes, her hands gripping my arms tightly. I slowly inserted myself.
“Ahhh…!” she cried as the head of my penis entered her narrow opening. The warm, tight grip around my penis almost made me lose consciousness.
“Koi… Koi…” I repeated her name as I began to move my hips slowly, the first thrust of our lovemaking in the abandoned gym, where no one knew.
She bit her lip to stifle her moans, but it was no use; each thrust made her cry out. The sensation of pleasure coursing through the tip of my penis against the warm, moist walls of her vagina…
I thought back to our midday music practice, when she would always look at me with that sweet gaze. That memory only intensified my lust, and instinctively, my hips began to move faster.
“Bo… slow down… me…” she pleaded, but there was no sign of her pushing me away. Instead, she hugged me tighter.
I leaned down and kissed her again, our tongues intertwining. This act of lovemaking felt like speaking everything I'd kept silent for years, all through our bodies.
The rhythmic sounds of our bodies colliding echoed in the empty space. The rain, which had started falling again, drowned out our moans.
I paused, feeling something hard and cold touching my back from the hand that was wrapped around me—what was it that I'd left on this bench?
I lifted my head from her neck, my hand tracing my back, feeling something hard and cold—it was the edge of a measuring stick that had been resting on the bench since afternoon basketball practice. How stupid. I breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't something supernatural, but then I was struck by the sight before me. She was lying on her back, her eyes wet with tears, shivering from the cold sweat and the rain. Both her arms were tightly wrapped around my neck. There was no sign of him letting go.
I moved back down, this time slower, intending to savor every remaining second before dawn. My penis, still inside her, was getting used to the warm, moist lubricant. The sound of our bodies colliding changed from a frenzied rhythm to a dull melody, a nostalgic reminder of every time I secretly watched her walk past this gym. She looked up, biting her lip, her eyes seemingly saying, “More,” but her lips were tightly pressed together. The intense lust that had once raged was now fading, leaving only a tingling sensation spreading from my toes to my temples.
Now, as we got up and dressed in the darkness, no one spoke. Just a single glance was enough. The rain had stopped. The sound of raindrops from the eaves echoed rhythmically like a clock. This abandoned school had never been this quiet. I put the memories of this night in my pants pocket before walking out into the scent of wet earth and the reality that—perhaps the best relationships are those that no one needs to know, and we don't need an explanation for them.
We walked out of the gym in silence. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still pitch black, not yet dawn. She took a few steps ahead, then stopped, turning to look at me with a smile I'd never seen before—it wasn't the shy, embarrassed smile of a typical girl, but the smile of someone who had just gotten what they wanted. She didn't say anything, just wiped the sweat from her temples and continued walking towards her old bicycle leaning against the school fence.
I watched her pedal away into the silent street. Only the rhythmic creaking of the out-of-lubrication chain could be heard. I was sure we wouldn't see each other again in this context, or perhaps never at all. And that's exactly what happened. A week later, I saw her walking in front of the school after classes. She walked past as if we didn't know each other, our eyes not meeting for a single second. I felt no regret or resentment. It was an unwritten rule, understood by all, that when night ends, day must return to normal.
Years have passed, and even now, as I sit writing this, I've never spoken of that night to anyone. It's a personal memory, tied to the scent of old wood in the gym, the dampness of rain splashing in through the broken windows, and the touch of our burning skin in the freezing air. Perhaps a relationship without a name, without a future, without any responsibilities, is actually the best sex we can have in life. Because there's nothing to worry about except physical desire and the time we spend together. I don't know if she feels the same way, but I believe that something in that wordless night taught me—lust, pleasure, and fucking until the pussy and dick forget their identities—it's a language the world can speak without letters.
