A Sex-Addicted University Professor's Confession [Complete]

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[A Sex Addicted University Teacher's Confession] [Complete]
Online Notice: Continuing education this afternoon, Professor Zhang's special lecture "The Current Status and Prevention Strategies of Zoonotic Viral Diseases." In 2009, the "swine flu" epidemic and the exaggerated atmosphere of high alert on campus immediately brought my thoughts back to the SARS period. Looking back now, those days could perhaps be described as crazy, both for society, the school, and myself.

In 2003, I had just started working as a university teacher. My job wasn't great, but it wasn't bad either. My young heart was full of novelty, excitement, and anticipation. I truly felt like I was shining with a halo, shouldering a heavy responsibility. I wouldn't say I had lofty ambitions, but I was certainly conscientious in my work and had a motherly heart towards my students. Although I haven't become a mother yet, I can guarantee that on my first day at work, the first time I saw my students, I suddenly possessed that motherly heart. I've always attributed this to the inevitable result of my kindness.

The SARS outbreak in 2003 shocked the entire country, plunging society into panic. Schools naturally took self-protective measures. Our school not only implemented a "lockdown" policy, prohibiting students from leaving the campus, but also assigned temporary counselors to each class to participate in class management, implementing a "responsibility system" for students—whoever was assigned a role was responsible for it. So, after a class meeting, I became the temporary counselor for a group of children. Although they were called children, I was only a few years older than them. The school arranged a fixed "fitness for all"

time every morning, and my class and I played games like sack races and jump rope, having as much fun as kindergarten children. The more mischievous students called me "beautiful teacher," asking how old I was and if I had a boyfriend, while the more well-behaved ones giggled behind me, secretly gossiping about how the teacher blushed when asked. Perhaps because I always practiced appreciative education and was always kind and easygoing with students, I got along quite well with them. Of course, like many experienced teachers, I also painstakingly cultivated my own little informants among the students to keep track of their activities.

One rainy morning, I received a tip that two boys in my class had skipped class and sneaked out of the school. Like a detective, I found out where they were going, planning to catch them red-handed and make an example of them to enforce discipline. These two boys were the only Korean students in the class. Their Mandarin wasn't fluent, and they chattered away in Korean when they were together. One was introverted, named Li Zhewei, and the other was stubborn and opinionated, surnamed Park. They didn't interact much with Han students, often hanging out with other Korean students, playing soccer and drinking, so they weren't popular in the class. Making an example of them wouldn't hurt the feelings of most classmates, and it would serve as a warning. I secretly made up my mind.

While I was thinking about how to persuade and educate them, I thought angrily that Park must have led Li Zhewei astray. What kind of movie were they sneaking out to see on such a rainy day? I'll teach them a lesson! The residential areas around the school always have shops that prey on students: home-style video arcades, computer arcades, and even many small hotels. Based on the intelligence I had, I quickly located their hideout. As soon as I knocked, Park asked in broken Chinese, "Who is it?" I knew I'd found the right place. I didn't answer, just knocked again. Lee Cheol-wei opened the door.

I was stunned. They were both only wearing underwear, their pants sticking out. Besides them, there was another boy I didn't recognize, completely naked and half-lying on the bed. On the TV, a man's buttocks were moving, and a woman's moans were loud and unrestrained. My face burned instantly. I hadn't expected the "movie" they were watching

to be like this, and the scene so indecent. After all, I was a young female teacher. This was completely different from the scenario I had imagined—how I would criticize and educate them. The sudden turn of events left Park, Lee, and me speechless. The strange boy grinned and asked Park a few incoherent questions, then reached out and pulled me into the house, closing the door behind him. He grabbed my breast, and I screamed in fright, only managing to utter "you" and "you all" before his hot tongue sealed my mouth. His large hands brazenly kneaded my breasts. I struggled desperately, shouting, "How could you do this! Let me go!" He grinned and licked his lips, "Look, three people are involved, don't be afraid! Your breasts..." "Wow, so big, so firm! I love girls with big boobs! Don't be shy, let's play together, the brothers are getting impatient, I guarantee you'll have a blast!"

This sudden and blatant teasing made me scared, ashamed, and angry. My only thought was to run away. Before I could even open the door, I felt a burning sensation on my face. He actually slapped me! In the instant I was stunned, the straps of my skirt were pulled down, and most of the buttons were undone. He shouted angrily in Korean, probably cursing at me. I had never seen anything like this before, and I burst into tears, hitting him hard. He hugged me tightly, making it hard for me to breathe. When he saw that I was behaving myself, he deliberately lowered his voice and gently coaxed me, "First time out? Don't be afraid! Don't be shy, it'll be over in a bit. Let me help you think of a way that won't make you shy! Just treat it as a little game." As he spoke, he used my skirt straps to blindfold me. In that instant, the image that flashed through my mind was of Little Dragon Girl, followed by the image of the man's buttocks moving on the TV screen, and then his grinning, licking tongue… My mind was a complete mess. Although I had already tasted the forbidden fruit, I had never watched adult films, let alone seen three strange penises erect at the same time, and I had never experienced such harassment and humiliation. I just cried desperately. He mumbled a few words, and suddenly many hands were on my body. My clothes were stripped off, and my hands were tied behind my back, seemingly with shoelaces.

I really wished they were tied up, so I wouldn't have to see, think, or find any excuses for myself. That's how women are; once they're naked, there's nothing left to be reserved about or to resist. Any resistance is futile. I felt utterly helpless, like a lamb to the slaughter, washed clean, bound tightly, and ready to be tortured. With my eyes blindfolded, the sounds of a woman moaning and bodies colliding from the TV became even louder, stimulating my nerves. Combined with the fragmented images I had glimpsed earlier, it felt incredibly arousing. My legs were forcibly spread apart, and a hand was manipulating my genitals. I could feel how incredibly wet they were. "Damn, you little bitch, you're a slut who needs to be fucked. You're soaking wet down to your heels without your panties, and you're still pretending to be innocent! Go ahead and be wild, be wild, I'll make you cum!"

I was suddenly lifted up and thrown onto the bed. My hands were tied behind my back, so I could only lie on my side, curled up like a shrimp. They exchanged a few words in gibberish, and then I was fully armed: a hot, thick penis was thrust into my mouth, not very large, but straight and full of conquering desire, always wanting to penetrate deeper; both my breasts were being kneaded, and my left nipple was being sucked by a large mouth; the person below must have been an expert, his tongue teasing me with varying pressure and movement, causing my lust to surge uncontrollably, my heart secretly yearning for something. With so many stimulations, and the fact that I couldn't see anything, it felt as if the woman in question wasn't me. What was the point of resisting at this point? It would only symbolize that I was a chaste woman, not enjoying their caresses, nothing more. I finally surrendered, resigned myself to my fate, my body gradually relaxed, no longer tightly bound, no longer needing him to pull my hair, and my mouth letting him come and go as he pleased.

Perhaps my changes made them feel more at ease. I began to hear the man's heavy, aroused breathing, and a finger was inserted into my vagina, stirring around. Although I had experienced sexual intercourse before, he had never used a finger before. He always started with caresses or kisses, ending with passionate intercourse and ejaculation. The first time I experienced the skillful use of a finger, I was almost overwhelmed. An electric-like pleasure swept through my body, and my vagina involuntarily tightened a few times. The hand below worked even harder, inserting another finger. I felt the finger rapidly flexing and extending, rhythmically pressing against my anus, giving me an unprecedentedly powerful pleasure, accompanied by the urge to urinate. It was unbearable. I groaned and twisted my hips, reaching orgasm, and I even urinated. Two years later, after I learned to use the internet, I discovered that it was called squirting. That was the only time I ever squirted. Before the afterglow of the orgasm had faded, I felt some salty, slippery liquid flowing from his penis in my mouth, and my head suddenly became very large and hard. I knew he was about to ejaculate. Orgasms can drive women crazy, believe it or not, a truly intense orgasm can indeed drive a woman mad, and at that moment, I was. I deliberately tilted my head back, letting his penis head firmly press against my palate, sucking hard with my mouth, clamping it with the back of my tongue. He suddenly groaned, saying something I didn't understand, followed by a massive, overwhelming ejaculation, the smell so strong it was almost choking.

They finally released my hands, handing me tissues to wipe myself. I suddenly felt as if the whole room was filled with that strong, strange smell. I didn't remove the blindfold from my eyes; I really didn't have the courage to. I was afraid to witness such a lewd scene, afraid to see myself acting so shamelessly and wildly. Keeping my eyes covered was fine, but it also meant I had to obey them. They seemed to particularly like me with my eyes covered; we had a tacit understanding about it. They made me kneel by the bed and began to actually penetrate me, naturally switching to another penis in my mouth. I'm sure they weren't naive young men anymore; I even suspect they'd collaborated like this many times before. From a purely sexual perspective, their coordination was so perfect. Having sex with a woman is about conquering her physically, while giving her oral sex is probably more about conquering her emotionally.

I was being conquered by both body and mind, and began to lose myself. The person behind me held my buttocks, thrusting in and out slowly, almost completely withdrawing each time, then fully penetrating again. When his glans passed through my opening, I could clearly feel a contraction; at the deepest point, his testicles slapped against my clitoris, and my heart clenched. This rhythmic, double-pronged stimulation was incredibly exciting. The person in my mouth was always in sync with him, his lower body hitting my cervix while his upper body hit my throat, leaving me sandwiched between two assaults, with no way to escape. After a few thrusts, I felt myself aroused again; the multi-faceted stimulation was something I'd never experienced in traditional sex. When I used to give my boyfriend oral sex, I would fantasize about having a penis inside me, but reality is quite different from fantasy. People who haven't tried it will never understand.

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