That summer, my holidays were spent in a cram school. As for its exact location, it was a secret best kept to myself.

I was an unremarkable fellow, yet like any man, I possessed a deep appreciation for beautiful women.

She was a student at a private university in Taipei, possessing long, flowing hair and eyes that reminded me of a member of a popular idol group. To me, she was the undisputed flower of our class.

She sat just one row behind me; every time I turned my head, there she was. She dressed with a quintessential student charm that I found irresistible. I loved to steal glances at her, though she usually met my gaze with a cool indifference, simply lowering her head to return to her books. But her frostiness never dampened my longing; on the contrary, it only fueled my growing obsession.

Our cram school was small, likely due to a lack of students, as the numbers spoke for themselves. We had morning and afternoon sessions, and every day at noon, the halls would empty out for nearly two hours as everyone flocked out in groups to find lunch.

Being an older student, I had always been a loner—a man who lived apart from the mundane world, seeking only the pleasures of the senses. Consequently, the classroom was often my solitary sanctuary during the midday break.

One day, as noon arrived, the classroom emptied as usual. I expected to be alone once more, but to my surprise, the class beauty had stayed behind. Usually, she would head out with a female classmate, but that friend was unexpectedly absent today.

I stole a glance at her and saw that after smoothing her hair, she had laid her head down on the desk to rest. She looked exhausted. I moved to the seat beside her, watching her in silence.

A beauty is a beauty, even in sleep. Today, she wore a pale yellow short-sleeved blouse paired with a deep blue mini-skirt. That student-style attire was intoxicating, a vision so alluring that it stirred both my heart and the growing ache in my loins.

Suddenly, I noticed her legs, which had been pressed tightly together, began to part slightly, widening as she drifted deeper into slumber. A wicked impulse seized me. I quietly moved to the seat directly in front of her, confirming once more that we were entirely alone in the room.

Bolstered by sudden courage, I leaned down low to peer at her. Heavens! It was breathtaking. Beneath the hem of her skirt, a glimpse of pure white lace revealed itself. The gods had truly smiled upon me; I felt incredibly fortunate. In that moment, I wished I had a digital camera to capture this divine scene.

At first, I thought mere observation would suffice to satisfy my hunger, but I was wrong. My desire for her was bottomless; the sight of her pristine white panties was only the beginning.

I stood up, walked to the door, and slid the bolt shut. As my impure thoughts pierced through my meager shred of rationality, every deviant impulse began to feel like destiny.

I sat down softly in the chair beside her. Seeing no movement, knowing she was in a deep sleep, I reached out to stroke her long hair, leaning in to inhale the enchanting scent of her tresses. My manhood grew rock-hard.

Seeing that she showed no sign of waking, I let my right hand wander to her right breast—a lovely B-cup. As I began to knead the soft tissue, the sensation was incredible; her breasts were perfect, an irresistible softness that defied resistance.

I massaged her in a rhythmic motion, and my left hand instinctively drifted around her back to cup her left breast. The sensation through my fingertips was so intense that I couldn't help but squeeze more firmly. Just then, her lovely face, which had been buried in her arms, tilted slightly toward me, and her crimson, succulent lips parted. Startled, I quickly pulled my hand back.

After three minutes of anxious waiting, the tension eased. Seeing she was still asleep, my hand began to wander down her abdomen, venturing boldly beneath the hem of her skirt. I slid my hand under the impossibly short mini-skirt, drifting toward her most private sanctum. My initial cautiousness was swept away by her soft, inviting warmth. I had intended to be gentle, fearing she might wake, but lust soon overrode reason. My touch grew firmer, my movements more vigorous. I feared she would wake, but she must have been a truly diligent student, sleeping so deeply that she was nearly unconscious. No matter how much I teased the entrance of her heat, she showed no reaction.

Suddenly, I increased my strength and doubled my speed. My fingertips began to feel the dampness of her nectar seeping through her incredibly thin panties.

My own body responded to her arousal. Thinking of how much her core must crave my release, and intoxicated by her heady feminine scent, my member throbbed with an almost painful pressure. I hurriedly unzipped my trousers to find some relief, but while the external pressure eased, the internal ache only intensified.

I lifted the hem of her skirt higher, staring at that mesmerizing white lace and the scent rising from her. A profound madness took hold of me. She was truly deep in sleep. I decided to move her chair slightly into the aisle to give myself room to stand. With great care, I gently nudged her legs wider to face me while keeping her upper body in its original position. Every movement was silent, a desperate attempt to ensure my upcoming conquest would be undisturbed.

Once she was positioned perfectly, without hesitation, I drew out my aching, rigid length. I lifted her skirt and used my hand to pull her white panties to the side, wedging them against her thigh to clear the path. I spread her legs wide, lifting her left leg to rest against my right hip so that I could stand directly between her thighs. This gave me an unobstructed view of her most intimate depths. Without a moment's delay, I gripped the head of my cock and began to rub it against her vaginal opening. Pre-cum began to leak from my tip, slicking the entrance. My member was brimming with desire as the head pressed against her, pushing inward until only half was inserted.

An inexplicable surge of excitement raced through me. I thrust harder, driving deeper. The further in I went, the more my shaft felt the tight, rhythmic gripping of her inner walls. When I hit a sudden resistance halfway in, a realization struck me: she was a virgin. This realization sent a jolt of pure ecstasy through my veins. Her body trembled slightly, as if sensing the force of my intrusion, but her eyes remained tightly shut.

Taking a deep, ragged breath, I pulled her thighs even wider to gain better leverage. I abandoned all caution; I no longer cared if she woke. My only goal was to claim her—to break the maidenhood of the most beautiful girl in class.

As everything was prepared, my left hand steadied my cock against her entrance while my right arm cradled her body. Suddenly, she woke. Her beautiful eyes snapped open, staring up at me. It took a few seconds of stunned silence before she realized a man was standing between her legs, his member buried inside her. Shock washed over her face. Panic flared in her eyes as she tried to recoil and push me away, but her passage was too tight to allow a quick escape. Sensing her struggle, I gripped her waist firmly to hold her in place.

"Let me go!" she cried out, her voice trembling with terror. "What are you doing to me? Get off!"

Her fear was palpable, her mind a whirlwind of confusion. How could a peaceful afternoon nap turn into the sensation of a man thrusting into her body?

By now, the momentum was unstoppable. My body moved of its own accord, my hips driving forward with primal force. Though her hands fought to push me away, her legs instinctively clamped around my waist, reacting to the sharp stabs of pain radiating from her core. Seeing her brow furrow in agony, a flicker of pity touched my heart, and for a moment, I tried to pull back. But the moment I retreated, her legs pulled me back in with surprising strength. I lost my balance and plunged deep once more. Her eyes flew wide, and a pained wail escaped her lips: "What are you doing? Ah... it hurts... stop... ah!"

Her face was a mask of exquisite pain, her body shuddering uncontrollably. But my cock was now deeper than before, and her legs had locked around my waist, leaving us in a desperate, heated embrace.

"Please, let me go..." she sobbed. "It hurts so much! Do you know what you're doing? Won't you be afraid if I call the police?!"

*To die beneath a peony is a romantic fate,* I thought.

My cock was caught in the throes of her wet, tight entrance, caught between the urge to retreat and the overwhelming heat that pulled me back in. Her weeping made me hesitate, but it also served as a warning. Since the deed was already begun, would she truly forgive me if I simply stopped now? Hardening my resolve, I feigned another loss of balance, throwing my entire weight onto her. She slumped back against the chair, and as I pressed down, she seemed to lose the breath to scream. Her eyes were wide, filled with a heartbreaking helplessness, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No... ah..." she whimpered. At that moment, she reached the peak of her pain, and my entire length was swallowed by her.

I steeled my heart. She was a delicate girl, no match for my sudden ferocity. Since there was no turning back, I braced her waist and began to pull out slowly, using my mouth to muffle her cries. After one slow withdrawal, I began to drive back in with frantic speed. Her cries became muffled moans. After nearly twenty heavy, driving thrusts, I abandoned all pretense of gentleness. To increase the friction, I grabbed her thighs and knees, pulling them wide and pounding into her with everything I had, regardless of whether she could endure it.

She seemed utterly defeated, her head shaking helplessly in a rhythmic dance of agony and sensation.

I looked down and saw my shaft was stained with a deep, crimson red—the blood of her first time. Her juices, mingled with the maiden's blood, began to overflow from her folds. The sight drove me into a frenzy. I thrust faster and deeper, her cries growing louder and more desperate.

The climax was imminent, a mounting pressure that felt as though it might shatter me. To ensure the most intense release, I pulled her skirt up to my abdomen and used my fingers to press her vulva tightly against my shaft, driving home with a final, violent surge.

"Ah...!" she screamed.

Fearing the noise would draw attention, I pressed my lips against hers to stifle her voice. My hips worked with feverish intensity until, at the very last second, I gathered her legs tight and delivered a final, punishing thrust. I felt the scalding rush of my semen erupting deep within her womb. Only then did the thrusting stop, though I remained buried inside her. I leaned over her, pressing my body against hers, wanting to pour every drop of my essence into her.

When I finally withdrew, she was weeping softly. Her white lace was stained a vivid red, and the chair bore the marks of her maidenhood. I took some tissues, cleaned her intimate folds, and wiped the chair until it was tidy, returning everything to its place.

I sat beside her, helping her sit up and offering words of comfort, though the words felt hollow and she remained speechless.

After that day, she never returned to the cram school. It seemed she had moved on to somewhere else.