Me and the auntie at the boarding school

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

I've always been a bystander, but I think it's time to contribute my modest efforts to this wonderful community. The older one gets, the more one enjoys reminiscing. The past is like smoke, and after many years, I recall a story from Wenzhou. This is a true story, and a past event is often like a vintage wine, worth sharing and savoring. -------- Prologue
The story takes place in 2006 in Wenzhou, a coastal city in southern China. At that time, the coastal economy was relatively developed, while inland provinces were relatively poor. With no way out in their hometowns, a large number of migrant workers flocked to the southern coast in search of work. Locals were reluctant to take on dirty, strenuous, or less respectable jobs, naturally leading to a large influx of migrant workers: migrant workers, tricycle drivers, nannies, hourly workers, sales clerks, taxi drivers, and many more.
This story involves me, my teacher, and her nanny. I was a sixth-grade student at the time. Because my parents were often away on business, they sent me to live with my math teacher, Ms. Wang (I'll refer to her as Mr. Wang from now on). Mr. Wang had a group of full-time students, but due to various reasons, the number of students he took on gradually decreased. By 2006, he was only taking on me and another younger student. Mr. Wang was a very nice person. Perhaps because I seemed honest and reliable, he casually mentioned that he would stop taking on full-time students after I graduated from elementary school (implying that the younger student would find another teacher to take care of him after graduation).
It was late spring in 2006, and the weather was getting hotter. When I returned to my teacher's house after school at noon, I was surprised to find an older woman there. She looked to be about 35 or 36 years old, about 1.6 meters tall, with a ponytail, wearing light blue jeans. She looked like a woman from the countryside, with a strong build, especially her thighs and large hips, which looked particularly attractive in the jeans. A short-sleeved, open-knit top looked rather dowdy, but it accentuated her enormous breasts; from my hazy memory, I could tell they were at least a D cup. At that time, I was still oblivious to women; I did my homework and did whatever I wanted, completely ignoring this nanny.
Later, I learned she was a new live-in housekeeper hired by the teacher. I forget where she was from, but I guessed either Sichuan or Hubei—those were the most common places for housekeepers in Wenzhou back then. Most were around 40 years old; those in their 30s were generally more capable and earned higher wages. Old Wang's family wasn't short of money, so they naturally chose a young and capable nanny, who was also cleaner at housework and cooking.
Because there were limited rooms, my junior, the nanny, and I were assigned to sleep in one room. The nanny slept in her own bed, while my junior and I slept on a relatively low Simmons mattress next to her. Later, I learned that her husband was a migrant worker in another southern province, doing hard work similar to construction work. Perhaps because of the distance, or perhaps due to marital discord, they had been living apart for a long time.
As fate would have it, that day my junior and I had a disagreement because we'd been sharing a small Simmons bed for so long. Seeing the auntie's spacious bed, I naively got off, wearing only a gray pair of briefs, and walked to her bedside, saying, "Auntie, I want to sleep with you." I still don't know what my expression was like when I said that, nor do I know if I was already erect under my briefs at that young age. The auntie was startled, her eyes fixed on my crotch, and softly said, "Come sleep later." For the few dozen seconds between my words and her closing words, her eyes never left my crotch.
I've always been an impatient and impulsive person: "I want to sleep with you now!"
The auntie softly said again, "Go to sleep first, I'll wake you tonight."
I naively thought she was just trying to brush me off because I was taking up her bed: "When?"
The auntie's eyes never left my underwear, so I'm absolutely certain that my underwear was bulging at that moment.
"At least after 2 a.m.," the aunt said, getting off the bed and turning off the light, telling me to go to sleep. At that point, I still didn't know what was going on. I just felt brushed off by the aunt, and I was about to be squeezed onto the same small Simmons bed with this annoying junior student whose sleeping posture was extremely ugly, his legs and head facing each other. I was furious (actually, I myself have extremely ugly sleeping postures, so this awkward squeezing and fighting while half-asleep has been going on for a long time).
Around 9 or 10 a.m., I was half-awake again by the junior student's kicking and other sleeping positions. This time, without thinking twice, I grabbed the blanket and "forced" my way onto the aunt's bed, of course, she slept on one end and I on the other, head to head. The summer sky was exceptionally quiet, a full moon hung in the sky. The aunt's husband, far away, was probably also off work at the construction site dormitory, ready to rest and relax, letting go of the day's fatigue.
Youth is wonderful; I fell asleep as soon as I lay down. In a hazy state, I felt a foot wearing a flesh-colored silk stocking pressed against my face. Could it be that I have a foot fetish? I think I was holding that leg close to my mouth, inhaling the scent, and drifting off to sleep. Then, the auntie pulled her leg away, sat up, and said to me, "Come on, you like stockings, I can wear longer ones next time. I'll buy some more." She woke me up, and I sat up groggily, listened to her words, and then fell back asleep, though not deeply. I
only heard the auntie's arousal; I ignored her. She then spread her legs and began masturbating on the bed. I still remember the intensity of her masturbation that night, so much so that years later, when my girlfriend said she felt nothing for any of her "little wildcats," it was truly a case of "once you've seen the ocean, other waters are nothing; once you've seen the clouds of Wushan, other clouds are nothing."
That night even aroused a strong fascination with mature women in me. During the act, the auntie lay face down with her buttocks facing me, simulating anal penetration with her hands, but most of the time she was leaning against the pillow, spreading her legs, rubbing vigorously, trying to suppress her moans (she probably couldn't suppress them at the time, and the teacher two or three walls away in the bathroom could faintly hear them, but that's another story). A thin blanket was simply placed over her lower body. Since I never wear socks to bed because I can't sleep with socks on, the auntie was wearing flesh-colored ankle socks. Under the dim light shining in from the window, the scene of her intensely rubbing herself, switching hands from left to right, is deeply etched in my mind. I only remember that her moans sounded like they were in great pain, but later I learned that they were pleasurable. After about ten to twenty minutes, the auntie completely released during her orgasm. Actually, I was already quite asleep when she orgasmed, but I still vaguely remember that the usually stable steel bed shook. Also, during her orgasm, the auntie pressed the thin blanket over her lower body, as if blocking it. I still suspect that she might have squirted slightly at that time. After that, I drifted back to sleep.
I don't know how much time passed, but I woke up around 3 or 4 AM. I sat up and asked the aunt what she wanted. She ignored me and continued sleeping, looking a little angry but also sleepy. I didn't pay attention and lay back down.
But less than a minute later, she sat up and said, "I asked you to do it, but you didn't. Now you're doing xxxx" (I don't remember some parts). I replied, "What? Auntie?"
She said, "Then why were you licking my feet?" Then sleepiness overcame me, and I ultimately ignored her and fell asleep again. I only remember that she seemed to masturbate again, but not as intensely as the first time (or maybe I was too deeply asleep the second time to feel it).
As fate would have it, the next day, Old Wang surprisingly came to our "dormitory" and opened the door, seemingly to wake us up. Why was it surprising? Because he usually wouldn't come to wake us; it was always the aunt who made breakfast and then came to wake us. Old Wang poked his head in and saw the junior sleeping alone on the Simmons mattress, and then he saw me and the aunt sleeping in the same bed. He looked puzzled and said, "Why are you squeezing into the aunt's bed? How can the aunt sleep with you squeezing her like this?" (This also shows that Old Wang has excellent character; he treats the aunt as an elder to us, not just a worker.)
I was afraid she'd criticize me for not wanting to sleep with my junior, because I was always afraid of Lao Wang, so I stammered and just sat there, not daring to say anything. My aunt was even more scared, because she felt guilty, and I suspected Lao Wang must have heard her moaning that night, so she didn't say a word either. Actually, if she had just said she didn't want to squeeze in with my junior, she probably could have gotten away with it and avoided this awkward
situation. The silence between us was just too awkward. Lao Wang, being very tactful, simply left. I remember her face was red; she must have figured something out. I was completely clueless at the time and didn't think much of it. All I knew was that later Lao Wang bought a large Simmons mattress for my junior and me, which made things much more comfortable. Auntie also resigned a week later. On the day she left, she seemed to have told Lao Wang the whole story. Lao Wang, seemingly out of womanly sympathy, said something like, "Don't take it to heart," and told me to say goodbye to Auntie. I assumed she was going to buy groceries and didn't say much. After saying goodbye, I went back to watching Super Girl on TV. I remember that summer Super Girl was incredibly popular, with nationwide competitions. In winter, there was also Tongfu Inn. Those were truly happy and carefree times.
Wenzhou's past, naturally, can't compare to Er Gou's Northeast Past: Twenty Years of Gangster Life, but it's still quite colorful. It's a note of an era, and we all have a responsibility to record it as realistically as possible for future generations to reminisce about.

[The End]

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