Run into my junior high school English teacher

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Xiao Jing was my junior high school English teacher. She had just graduated from university and came to our class for an internship. Our previous English teacher, who had only taught us for half a semester, was going to pursue a master's degree, so Xiao Jing continued to teach us until we graduated from junior high.

Ms. Xiao Jing had a classic oval face, and her eyes narrowed into slits when she smiled; she was very cute. When she taught us pronunciation, she always boasted about her perfect pronunciation and told us to pay attention to her mouth shape. So everyone watched her mouth shape very carefully, and I think quite a few of us secretly fell for those sexy, thin lips.

I never had a personal relationship with her, but I was one of Ms. Xiao Jing's favorite students. My grades weren't outstanding, but I occasionally got a few good grades, and I barely managed to get into the county's top high school. I heard that the following year she married a teacher from another school, but I don't know the details. Before that, we always speculated that she was secretly dating this male teacher from our school, or that she was having an affair with that other male teacher… haha. After that, I rarely heard from her. She must have been transferred to another place in recent years, and gradually her image has become blurred in my mind.

Last year, I went home for Chinese New Year. I took the train to the city and then transferred to a bus. It was raining that day. On the bus, I saw a short-haired girl sitting on the other side of the aisle. She looked very familiar. Her pink down jacket made her head look small and delicate. However, she was wearing large-framed glasses, which reinforced my impression that "all 90s kids are brainless." I especially dislike this kind of "trendy" or "non-mainstream" stuff. But her beautiful and somewhat familiar appearance made me stare at her a few more times. She looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her. This kind of special attention is easy to notice, and I didn't try to avoid her questioning gaze. After our eyes met twice, she suddenly opened her eyes and mouth wide, as if she had finally remembered something: "That, that—" When she opened her mouth and uttered those two words, I finally realized that this person I thought was some "brainless 90s kid" was actually my junior high school English teacher whom I hadn't seen for many years—Xiao Jing—I remembered her voice very well. The moment I realized what was happening, my expression mirrored hers: "Teacher?"

"Ah, it really is you? What's your name again?" Her face instantly shifted from the signature surprised expression of characters in Korean dramas, regardless of gender, to joy, then back to a thoughtful look.

"Jing—" I was about to tell her my name.

"Don't say it, I'll definitely remember, Jing, Jing... Jing Xing!" She quickly interrupted me, her face serious. After a moment's thought, she finally called out my name.

"Yes! Wow, the teacher actually recognized me, and even called out my name accurately!" To be honest, I was really happy to have met my dream girl from a certain period of my life. What made me happiest was that after more than ten years, she could still call out my name. "That's not easy. Was I really that outstanding back then, or that mischievous, or damn it, could she possibly remember the name of every student she taught? That would be insane!" I thought to myself, quickly reaching out to tightly grasp her still-unretracted hand and shaking it vigorously to express my excitement.

“Of course, you’re one of the best students I’ve taught all these years! You were all so small back then, and look at you now—you’ve all grown up…” Although the admiration was fleeting, I felt I had gleaned something from her. We chatted all the way, and I learned that after my graduating class, she taught another class from seventh to ninth grade before moving on to teach high school—the very school I attended. By then, I had already graduated, so I hadn’t seen her. She had been teaching at that school all these years, and that day she happened to be in the city with another female teacher to do some shopping, but the other teacher had something come up and couldn’t make it. We had a great chat. She learned that I had graduated from university and remarked on how quickly time flies, but then quickly changed the subject. We talked about things that were somewhat interesting from our teaching days, about my changes, about work and life, and almost touched on her love life… Unfortunately, the train reached its final stop.

It was raining quite heavily when we got off, and she didn’t have any rain gear. I opened my umbrella, and together we carried our luggage to the exit hall.

“How much further?” she asked me.

“Take a tricycle up ahead, it’ll be home in about an hour and a half!” In our area, there are three-wheeled motorcycles with canopies for rural outings.

“Are there still vehicles this late? Why don’t you stay at my place tonight and get home early tomorrow? – It’s convenient, I’m alone!” Actually, it wasn’t late, just past 5 pm, but it was the dead of winter, and it was raining a bit, so it was dark. My glasses were fogging up constantly, and I realized she didn’t wear lenses. I was about to blurt out no, but hearing that she was alone, I hesitated: “No way!” To be honest, I was already having some inappropriate thoughts.

“Oh, come on! It’s nearby! Look how convenient, how rare!” Before I could insist, she walked outside, and I had to follow her with my umbrella.

“It’s almost New Year’s, how can you be alone? Where are your wife and child? How awkward.” I pulled my luggage with one hand and held the umbrella with the other as I walked to her side.

“Pfft! Hahahaha…” She suddenly burst into laughter, unable to straighten up.

"What's wrong?" I stood there dumbfounded.

"You mean, 'teacher's wife'?" After a long while, she finally recovered.

"You're my teacher, so your husband is my teacher's wife, not my grand-master! That's a generational mismatch!" Actually, I also felt that the title was a bit awkward.

"Teacher, why do you still look like a little girl? You must be 40 years old, right?" Seeing how friendly she was, I finally mustered up the courage to express my dissatisfaction with her "brainless" outfit.

"40? Hehe, why don't you say 100? Guess how old I am?" She winked at me as she walked away.

"38?" I guessed close to 40. I saw her furrow her brows, glance at me sideways, and then shake her head with a smile.

"Thirty-seven? Thirty-nine?" I did the math again. She must have been in her 20s when she graduated from university, then I spent six years in high school, four years in university, and two years out of school. I always felt that she wasn't far from 40, and I was also deliberately teasing her.

"34, is that good enough? Do you all think I'm that old?" She looked straight ahead, not turning her head, but a smug look could be seen from the side.

"34 and 40 aren't that different, huh? How come you still look like this? How did your teacher's wife raise you!"

"What do you mean 'look like this'? You're so beautiful!" She tossed her hair, turned her head, adjusted her glasses, and gave a charming and confident smile.

"Hehe...you haven't mentioned your teacher's wife yet—" I smiled innocently, sincerely agreeing. But at the same time, I really wanted to make sure she was alone. It would be embarrassing if a bunch of kids came calling me uncle or big brother and I didn't get any gifts.

"No teacher's wife, no kids!" she said calmly.

"Single? An older, golden leftover woman?" I was still unclear about the situation and used an exaggerated tone to try to ease the awkwardness.

"What leftover woman? I'm divorced! My kids are with him these days! Hehe." She remained calm, but I could still vaguely sense a trace of sadness.

"I'm so sorry, teacher!" I initially thought her husband might have taken the kids somewhere and she just happened to be away from home, but I didn't expect this.

"What's the big deal? I dumped him! And it's been five or six years."

"What? Five or six years and you haven't found someone new?" I said again in an exaggerated tone, acting all surprised, thinking it would make me seem childish, more like a teacher and student with her. "Then aren't we a lonely man and woman—"

"What, afraid I'll eat you up? In my heart, you'll always just be little radishes!"

"No, no, I'm afraid that someone like you might make me want to commit a crime!" I said, thinking to myself, "I just want to be a radish, when you're lonely, you'll have radishes and cucumbers all at once!"

"I didn't realize you were so good with girls!" She suddenly stopped, tilting her head and giving me a mischievous, half-closed look. To my surprise, I didn't feel uncomfortable at all; her alluring expression just made my heart flutter. Perhaps we were old friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time. Aside from our teacher-student relationship, we both had outgoing personalities (at least that's how I appeared on the surface), and we got along very well. Sure enough,

she lived nearby in a three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment, not the studio apartment I'd imagined. "Looks like you've made a fortune from tutoring these past few years, teacher! Living in such a big house all by yourself!" I teased her, looking her over.

"Sit down for a bit, we'll go down for dinner later!" The young teacher took off her down jacket, revealing a stunning figure—wow, so perfect! It was enough to make my nose bleed; it really fueled my fantasies!

"Uh, how about I help out and we cook at home? It's the New Year, no need to spend money outside!" I didn't know whether she cared more about the hassle of preparing food at home or the expense of eating out. I was worried that since she knew the area well, we might run into some teachers or students while we ate together, which could affect her future life. Although I'm about ten years younger than her, I seem quite mature, so it wouldn't be surprising if we were mistaken for a couple. Besides, I just wanted something to happen tonight, to avoid her wandering around outside and adding any complications.

"Okay, as long as you don't mind my cooking. I usually eat at the school cafeteria or outside, and during holidays I go home to live with my parents, so it's a coincidence that I just happened to buy groceries this morning!"

"Hehe, that's settled then." I called home to say there were no buses or taxis available and I couldn't go back until tomorrow.

While helping in the kitchen, I discovered that this young teacher was indeed quite the repressed pervert; she had more than a dozen cans of beer hidden in the refrigerator. She kept praising me, saying "You're so capable!" and "Amazing!", especially stunned by my knife skills.

"I'm not bragging, but my culinary skills are dozens of times better than those of us little teachers!" With that, it became a situation where I was doing all the cooking myself, but I just wanted to show off in front of you, my beautiful lady…

"You're pretty good, kid!" Although it wasn't a lavish meal, seeing the teacher sitting in front of a table of fragrant dishes, she couldn't help but look at me with newfound respect.

"Of course! A little reward, how about a kiss?" I stood beside her, leaning in, teasing her with a hint of probing. If when I first entered I still considered her my teacher and held some reverence for her, her clumsiness and helplessness in the kitchen had completely made me forget that. I was now treating her like a little girl, without any reservations.

"Sigh, I wonder how many innocent girls have been ruined by your hands!" The beautiful teacher completely ignored me, picking up her chopsticks and starting to eat.

"Hehe, what a terrible injustice! I'm still a virgin—" Before I could finish, I realized she wasn't listening, so I had to stop, feeling a bit awkward.

"Hmm—not bad! I'll go get some drinks!" Whether unintentionally or intentionally, she had already interrupted my rambling thoughts four or five times.

"Come on, beer! Cheers!" She brought out six cans of beer and opened one for herself.

"So much alcohol, I wonder how many nights this slut has spent drowning her sorrows in alcohol!" I thought to myself as I raised my beer...

"Teacher, I..." I ate a lot of food at this meal; to exaggerate a bit, I basically ate all five plates by myself. Maybe I was waiting for her to get drunk! I didn't drink much alcohol, but although she didn't eat much, she kept pouring herself drinks, and she had already emptied eight cans.

"What?" My teacher's eyes were already glazed over, her face flushed, so charming and alluring.

"I feel that you trust me!" I'm not exactly a seasoned player in the game of love, and I hesitated quite a bit in front of a drunken beauty.

"Then, are you trustworthy?" She rested her chin on one hand, and gently swung an empty beer can between two fingers in the other.

I thought for a moment, unsure what to say, and shook my head.

"I'm not a good person." She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them again. She took a deep breath when she closed them and exhaled when she opened them.

"Teacher, you're drunk, let me help you to rest!" Actually, I really wanted to know what she was going to say. But I was afraid that the story she was going to tell would be unrelated to what I had guessed, yet equally heavy.

"I'm not drunk! I, I trust you!" She stood up, a little unsteady. "But you... complain that I'm old, you complain that I'm... old, yet you came again, I don't know what you're thinking." She looked at me with a hint of resentment.

"No, you don't look old at all, you're like a fairy!" I quickly tried to make up for my mistake, afraid that the cooked pigeon would fly away.

"You're so good with words! Hmph, this way I'll reward you!" She slowly walked behind me and lay down on me. I could feel her large breasts softly pressing against my back, her arms wrapped around me, her warm left cheek gently rubbing against my right.

"Want it? Little virgin!" She slightly parted her sexy lips, sticking out her fragrant tongue to lick my ear canal, blowing sweet breath into my ear as she spoke.

"Yes! I want it so badly!" I was burning up, knowing I didn't need to say anything more. For a body so long deprived, I knew what to do.

I turned over, pulled her close, and laid her sideways in my arms—to be honest, she felt quite heavy. She eagerly pulled my head up, pressing her lips to mine, and we kissed and licked each other passionately. I tried to slip one hand between her legs, feeling the tenderness of her crotch through several layers of pants, kneading it slightly until my fingers felt sticky, and my penis, no longer wanting to be pressed like this, was engorged but couldn't straighten up.

I carried the soft, yielding body into the master bedroom and placed her on the bed, sucking on her sweet saliva as I undressed her. Perhaps the alcohol was finally taking effect, for she writhed lazily on the bed, taking a while to finally pull her pants down to her thighs. Then I helped her undress completely; honestly, it was like having sex with a lump of mud—pure torture! Just spreading and holding her legs open was exhausting. Her skin was so white and smooth, her pubic hair beautiful, a simple tuft, long and straight. Her labia minora were slightly exposed, the left labia slightly longer than the right, a pale purple. I wasn't sure if she was drunk when she slept with me, or if she was deliberately seducing me, so while she was intoxicated, I made love to her twice, ejaculating inside her both times—perhaps I trusted her. Then I fell asleep.

I don't know what time it was in the early morning, but I felt her get up. A soft, rustling sound reached my ears. I asked her, "What's wrong?" She seemed to be awake now, and said lazily, "It's uncomfortable to sleep with my shirt on." My heart, which had been pounding, finally relaxed. I felt a smooth, soft sheep snuggle back into my arms, even softer and warmer than before.

"Did I wake you?" she said, her back to me, but pressed tightly against my chest.

"I must have woken up naturally. I went to bed too early today," I said, slipping my hand between her legs to caress her.

"I need to pee!" she whispered, her body motionless.

"Oh!" I replied, withdrawing my hand.

"Classmate, the teacher said I need to pee!" A moment later, she swayed slightly in my arms, pouting.

"What's wrong? Do you need to?" Seeing that she hadn't moved for a while after saying that, I hugged her tighter, asking in confusion.

“Mmm!”...

(The End)

Xiao Jing was my junior high school English teacher. She had just graduated from university and came to our class for an internship. Our English teacher, who had only taught us for half a semester, was going to pursue a master's degree, so she continued to teach us until we graduated from junior high school.

Ms. Xiao Jing had a classic oval face, and her eyes narrowed into slits when she smiled—very cute. When she taught us pronunciation, she always boasted about her perfect pronunciation and told us to pay attention to her mouth shape. So everyone watched her mouth very carefully, and I think quite a few of us secretly fell for those sexy, thin lips.

I never had a personal relationship with her, but I was one of her favorite students. My grades weren't outstanding, but I occasionally got a few good ones, and I barely managed to get into the county's top high school. I heard that the following year she married a teacher from another school, but I don't know the details. Before, we always speculated that she was secretly dating this male teacher from our school, or that she was having an affair with that other male teacher… haha. After that, I rarely heard from her. She must have been transferred to another place in recent years, and gradually her image has become blurry in my mind.

Last year, I went home for the Spring Festival, taking the train to the city and then transferring to a bus. It was raining that day. On the bus, I saw a short-haired girl sitting on the other side of the aisle. She looked very familiar. Her pink down jacket made her head look small and delicate. However, the large-framed glasses she wore reinforced my impression that "all 90s kids are brainless." I especially dislike this kind of "trendy" or "non-mainstream" stuff. But her beautiful and somewhat familiar appearance made me stare at her a few more times. She looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her. This kind of special attention is easy to notice, and I didn't try to avoid her questioning gaze. After our eyes met twice, she suddenly opened her eyes and mouth wide, as if she had finally remembered something: "That, that—" The moment she opened her mouth and uttered those two words, I finally realized that this person I thought was some "brainless 90s kid" was actually my middle school English teacher whom I hadn't seen for many years—Xiao Jing—I remembered her voice vividly. The moment I realized what was happening, my expression mirrored hers: "Teacher?"

"Ah, it really is you? What's your name again?" Her face instantly shifted from the signature surprised expression of characters in Korean dramas, regardless of gender, to joy, then back to a thoughtful look.

"Jing—" I was about to tell her my name.

"Don't say it, I'll definitely remember, Jing, Jing... Jing Xing!" She quickly interrupted me, her face serious. After a moment's thought, she finally called out my name.

"Yes! Wow, the teacher actually recognized me, and even called out my name accurately!" To be honest, I was really happy to have met my dream girl from a certain period of my life. What made me happiest was that after more than ten years, she could still call out my name. "That's not easy. Was I really that outstanding back then, or that mischievous, or damn it, could she possibly remember the name of every student she taught? That would be insane!" I thought to myself, quickly reaching out to tightly grasp her still-unretracted hand and shaking it vigorously to express my excitement.

“Of course, you’re one of the best students I’ve taught all these years! You were all so small back then, and look at you now—you’ve all grown up…” Although the admiration was fleeting, I felt I had gleaned something from her. We chatted all the way, and I learned that after my graduating class, she taught another class from seventh to ninth grade before moving on to teach high school—the very school I attended. By then, I had already graduated, so I hadn’t seen her. She had been teaching at that school all these years, and that day she happened to be in the city with another female teacher to do some shopping, but the other teacher had something come up and couldn’t make it. We had a great chat. She learned that I had graduated from university and remarked on how quickly time flies, but then quickly changed the subject. We talked about things that were somewhat interesting from our teaching days, about my changes, about work and life, and almost touched on her love life… Unfortunately, the train reached its final stop.

It was raining quite heavily when we got off, and she didn’t have any rain gear. I opened my umbrella, and together we carried our luggage to the exit hall.

“How much further?” she asked me.

“Take a tricycle up ahead, it’ll be home in about an hour and a half!” In our area, there are three-wheeled motorcycles with canopies for rural outings.

“Are there still vehicles this late? Why don’t you stay at my place tonight and get home early tomorrow? – It’s convenient, I’m alone!” Actually, it wasn’t late, just past 5 pm, but it was the dead of winter, and it was raining a bit, so it was dark. My glasses were fogging up constantly, and I realized she didn’t wear lenses. I was about to blurt out no, but hearing that she was alone, I hesitated: “No way!” To be honest, I was already having some inappropriate thoughts.

“Oh, come on! It’s nearby! Look how convenient, how rare!” Before I could insist, she walked outside, and I had to follow her with my umbrella.

“It’s almost New Year’s, how can you be alone? Where are your wife and child? How awkward.” I pulled my luggage with one hand and held the umbrella with the other as I walked to her side.

“Pfft! Hahahaha…” She suddenly burst into laughter, unable to straighten up.

"What's wrong?" I stood there dumbfounded.

"You mean, 'teacher's wife'?" After a long while, she finally recovered.

"You're my teacher, so your husband is my teacher's wife, not my grand-master! That's a generational mismatch!" Actually, I also felt that the title was a bit awkward.

"Teacher, why do you still look like a little girl? You must be 40 years old, right?" Seeing how friendly she was, I finally mustered up the courage to express my dissatisfaction with her "brainless" outfit.

"40? Hehe, why don't you say 100? Guess how old I am?" She winked at me as she walked away.

"38?" I guessed close to 40. I saw her furrow her brows, glance at me sideways, and then shake her head with a smile.

"Thirty-seven? Thirty-nine?" I did the math again. She must have been in her 20s when she graduated from university, then I spent six years in high school, four years in university, and two years out of school. I always felt that she wasn't far from 40, and I was also deliberately teasing her.

"34, is that good enough? Do you all think I'm that old?" She looked straight ahead, not turning her head, but a smug look could be seen from the side.

"34 and 40 aren't that different, huh? How come you still look like this? How did your teacher's wife raise you!"

"What do you mean 'look like this'? You're so beautiful!" She tossed her hair, turned her head, adjusted her glasses, and gave a charming and confident smile.

"Hehe...you haven't mentioned your teacher's wife yet—" I smiled innocently, sincerely agreeing. But at the same time, I really wanted to make sure she was alone. It would be embarrassing if a bunch of kids came calling me uncle or big brother and I didn't get any gifts.

"No teacher's wife, no kids!" she said calmly.

"Single? An older, golden leftover woman?" I was still unclear about the situation and used an exaggerated tone to try to ease the awkwardness.

"What leftover woman? I'm divorced! My kids are with him these days! Hehe." She remained calm, but I could still vaguely sense a trace of sadness.

"I'm sorry, teacher!" I had assumed her husband had taken the kids somewhere and she just happened to be away, but it turned out to be something else entirely.

"What's the big deal? I dumped him! And it's been five or six years."

"What? You haven't found someone new in five or six years?" I said in an exaggerated tone, acting all surprised, thinking I looked childish and that being with her made us seem more like teacher and student. "Then we're just a lonely man and woman—"

"What, afraid I'll eat you up? In my heart, you'll always just be little radishes!"

"No, no, I'm afraid someone like you will tempt me to commit a crime!" I said, thinking to myself, "I just want to be a radish, when you're lonely, you've got all sorts of radishes and cucumbers coming your way!"

"I didn't realize you were so good with girls!" She suddenly stopped, tilted her head, and gave me a mischievous look. I didn't feel uncomfortable at all; her alluring expression just made my heart flutter. Or perhaps we were long-lost friends. Aside from our teacher-student relationship, we both have outgoing personalities (at least that's how I appear on the surface), and we get along very well.

Sure enough, she lived nearby in a three-bedroom, two-living-room suite, not the studio apartment I had imagined. "Looks like you've made a fortune from tutoring these past few years, teacher! Living in such a big house all by yourself!" I teased, looking her over.

"Sit down for a bit, we'll go down for dinner later!" The young teacher took off her down jacket, revealing a stunning figure—wow, so perfect! It's enough to make my nose bleed! It really fuels my fantasies!

"Uh, how about I help out and we cook at home? Let's not waste money going out during the New Year!" I didn't know whether she was more concerned about the hassle of preparing a meal at home or the expense of eating out. I was worried that since she knew the area well, eating with me might lead to her being mistaken for a student or teacher, affecting her future life. Although I'm about ten years younger than her, I seem quite mature; it wouldn't be surprising if we were mistaken for a couple. Besides, I just wanted something to happen tonight, to avoid her going out again and adding any unforeseen complications.

"Okay, as long as you don't mind my cooking. I usually eat at the school cafeteria or outside, and I go home to live with my parents during holidays, so it's a coincidence that I just happened to buy groceries this morning!"

"Hehe, that's settled then." I called home to say that there were no buses later and I wouldn't be able to go back until tomorrow.

While helping in the kitchen, I discovered that this teacher was indeed quite the sly one; she had more than a dozen cans of beer hidden in the refrigerator. She kept praising me, saying "You're so capable!" and "Amazing!" She was especially amazed by my knife skills.

"I'm not bragging, but my cooking skills are dozens of times better than those of us teachers!" After saying that, it became a situation where I was doing all the work, but I wanted to show off in front of this beautiful lady...

"You're pretty good, kid!" Although it wasn't a lavish meal, when the teacher sat down in front of a table full of fragrant dishes, she couldn't help but look at me with newfound respect.

"That's right! A little reward, how about a kiss?" I stood beside her, leaning in with a slightly probing tease. If I still considered her my teacher and held some reverence for her when she first came in, her clumsiness and helplessness in the kitchen had completely made me forget that. I was now treating her like a little girl, without any reservations.

"Oh, I wonder how many innocent girls have been ruined by your hands!" The beautiful teacher completely ignored me, picking up her chopsticks and starting to eat.

"Hehe, what a great injustice! I'm still a virgin—" Before I could finish, I realized she wasn't listening, so I had to stop, feeling awkward. "Hmm

—not bad! I'll get the drinks!" Whether unintentionally or intentionally, she had already interrupted my train of thought (in short, "divine sentences") four or five times at just the right moment.

"Here, beer! Cheers!" She brought out six cans of beer and opened one for herself.

"So much alcohol, I wonder how many nights this slut has spent drowning her sorrows in alcohol!" I thought to myself, raising a beer bottle...

"Teacher, I..." I ate a lot of food at this meal; to exaggerate a bit, I basically ate all five plates by myself. Maybe I was waiting for her to get drunk! I didn't drink much alcohol, but although she didn't eat much, she kept pouring herself drinks, and had already emptied eight cans.

"What?" My teacher's eyes were already very hazy, her face flushed, so charming and captivating.

"I feel that you trust me!" I'm not exactly a seasoned player in the game of love, and I hesitated in front of a drunken beauty.

"Then, are you trustworthy?" She rested her chin on one hand, and gently swung an empty beer can between two fingers in the other.

I thought for a moment, unsure of what to say, and shook my head.

"I'm not a good person." She closed her eyes for a long time, then opened them again. She took a deep breath when she closed her eyes and exhaled when she opened them.

"Teacher, you're drunk. Let me help you to rest!" Actually, I really wanted to know what she was going to say. But I was afraid that the story she told would be unrelated to what I had guessed, yet equally heavy.

"I'm not drunk! I... I trust you!" She stood up, a little unsteady. "But you... complained that I'm old, you complained that I'm... old, yet you came again. I don't know what you're thinking." She looked at me with a hint of resentment.

"No, you don't look old at all, you look like a fairy!" I quickly tried to make up for my mistake, afraid that the cooked pigeon would fly away.

"You're so good at talking! Humph, only then will I be willing to reward you!" She slowly walked behind me and lay down on me. I could feel her large breasts softly pressing against my back, her arms wrapped around me, her warm left cheek gently rubbing against my right cheek.

"Want it? Little virgin!" She slightly opened her sexy little mouth, stuck out her fragrant tongue and licked into my ear canal, blowing her fragrant breath into my ear as she spoke.

"I want it! I want it so badly!" I was burning with desire, knowing I didn't need to say anything. For a body so deprived of sex, I knew what to do.

I turned and pulled her close, letting her lie across my chest—to be honest, she felt quite heavy. She eagerly pulled my head down, pressing her lips to mine, and we kissed and licked each other passionately. I slipped one hand between her legs, feeling the softness of her crotch through several layers of pants, kneading it gently until my fingers felt sticky, and my penis, no longer wanting to be pressed like this, was engorged but wouldn't straighten.

I carried this soft mass into the master bedroom, placed her on the bed, and sucked on her sweet saliva as I undressed her. Perhaps the alcohol had finally taken effect, because she lazily writhed on the bed, finally managing to pull her outer pants down to her thighs. Then I helped her undress completely; honestly, it was like making love to a lump of mud—it was torture! Just spreading and holding her legs open was exhausting. Her lower body skin was so white and smooth, her pubic hair was beautiful, a simple tuft, long and straight. Her labia minora were slightly exposed, the left one slightly longer than the right, a pale purple. I wasn't sure if she was drunk when she got together with me, or if she was genuinely trying to seduce me, so while she was drunk, I made love to her twice, ejaculating inside her both times – perhaps I trusted her. Then I fell asleep.

I don't know what time it was in the early morning, but I felt her get up. A soft, rustling sound reached my ears, and I asked her, "What's wrong?" She seemed to be awake, and lazily said, "It's uncomfortable to sleep with my top on." At that moment, my heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally relaxed. I felt a smooth sheep snuggle back into my arms, even softer and warmer than before.

"Did I wake you up?" She had her back to me, but pressed tightly against my chest.

"I must have woken up naturally, I went to bed too early today," I said, and one hand reached between her legs and stroked her vulva again.

"I need to pee!" she whispered, her body still.

"Oh!" I replied, pulling my hand back.

"Classmate, the teacher said I need to pee!" A moment later, she swayed in my arms, pouting.

"What's wrong? Do you need to?" Seeing that she didn't move for a while after saying that, I went over and hugged her tighter, asking in confusion.

"Um!"...

(The End)

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