Uncle Grant and I

I failed my university's mandatory physical education class, but I didn't want to go for the training. Uncle Grant came and helped me, but I only did a few squats, and I could already feel my chest hurting so much. I fell right into Uncle Grant's arms, and I said, "No, I can't do this, Uncle Grant… Do you have any sports bras…?"

My uncle's breathing became rapid, and he said, "Let me help you, Carmen."

I didn't expect that the way he helped me was to use his hands to correct my posture from the front. As he squatted alongside me, it was only getting faster…

My name is Carmen Smith, and I had just started my freshman year in university. With my innocent face and standout curves, I was voted as campus beauty.

But lately, a rumor had been spreading. It claimed I was easy, always hanging out with a bunch of bald old men.

The details made it sound almost real. I couldn't explain myself, and I didn't even dare go to compulsory physical education classes anymore. That was because too many boys would circle me, staring and calling me Milk Bags.

"Look at Milk Bags running like that. Who is she trying to seduce?"

"I heard she serves several sugar daddies in one night. She's really something."

Some young men even teamed up to block my way, talking in a mocking tone. "How much for one night? We can give you some business."

Hands on me without a second thought was nothing. To make matters worse, they would crowd in and push me to the center, their warm bodies right up against me. That made my skin crawl.

My waist and stomach were already sensitive, and the heat and pressure made it even harder to bear.

I could only clamp my legs together and grit my teeth to get through it.

I was lucky that time. Uncle Grant happened to be on campus for work, saw what was happening halfway through, and drove them off.

After that, whenever I had physical education on the outdoor track, I would only dare to show up right on the dot.

The university's group physical education exam came and went, and because I hadn't trained at all, I failed it.

I didn't dare sign up for the retake, so I just hid in my rental apartment, pretending not to see or know anything.

When Uncle Grant heard about it, he came to find me at the apartment. "Carmen, you can't go on like this. Don't be scared, I'll help you."

Uncle Grant was my dad's friend. After my parents died in a car accident five years ago, he was the one who paid for my education. He lived alone, and we leaned on each other.

I buried my head under the blanket in silent protest. Uncle Grant simply flipped the blanket back and pulled me up.

In the struggle, my nightdress rode up. My long legs were exposed, and the