Beautiful teacher in stockings

Section 1: An Encounter with a Beauty
I was an art student in my second year. Our coursework included some sketching assignments, including figure drawing. The school often hired professional female models for these sketches, but students had to pay for it themselves, and it was very expensive. I remember only a few high-achieving or wealthy students were qualified to attend figure drawing classes in the studio; the rest could only draw the Venus de Milo plaster cast. I had neither extra money nor excellent grades, so naturally I was excluded from the role of a female model. However, I didn't mind at all, thinking that drawing plaster casts was just as good.
I continued with my figure drawing practice in this way, while other classmates, more or less, always made a concerted effort to draw or saved money from their meal allowances, so they always had a chance to draw a figure at least once. But I never did. I was tall and strong, and sometimes I dabbled in martial arts. I always ate and drank excessively, and my meager savings disappeared quickly. When I was broke, I was forced to find ways to earn money. Because my portrait drawing skills improved rapidly, I wondered if I could set up a portrait stall on the street. I did it right away, setting up my stall in the bustling city center every evening when the weather was fine. Since there was no competition (high-achieving students wouldn't bother with that), many people came to me for portraits, and I earned enough for cigarettes every day to last a day or two. Eventually, I ran out of money... I went to get my portrait drawn.
Time flew by, and finally, school was out for summer vacation. Few people stayed at school, but I didn't want to go home, so I stayed at school for the summer, planning to find a part-time job.
One evening, as usual, I went to my usual spot, took out some finished portraits of celebrities, set up my easel
, and waited for customers. Business was surprisingly bad. Two hours passed, it was already past nine o'clock at night, and the shopping mall across the street had closed, but still no one wanted a drawing. I looked down at the footsteps of passersby; fewer and fewer people were walking. I considered whether I should close up shop if no one came in another five minutes.
Just then, a pair of white open-toe high-heeled sandals appeared before my eyes, the thin straps drawing beautiful curves on the heels. A pair of exquisitely beautiful feet rested on high-heeled sandals. White, delicate toes, slender soles, pink heels, and a high, arched foot with a slender ankle formed a graceful curve. The feet were clad in sheer, flesh-colored stockings, incredibly thin, and the delicate toes were painted with red nail polish, appearing even more alluring through the stockings.
I guessed the owner of these feet was no more than twenty-five or twenty-six years old. I couldn't help but raise my head and slowly trace my gaze up along those beautiful ankles. The smooth, silky curves of her calves were undeniably graceful, and her long, slender thighs were tightly encased in flesh-colored stockings. I then noticed a white, very short dress. The woman seemed to be wearing pantyhose, but there was no visible line separating the stockings from her thighs. Looking up from my squatting position, under the dim streetlights, I saw white panties with bows adorning the sides of her thighs, clinging tightly to her stockings. The panties were sheer and had a cleavage, clearly showing the dark, tangled pubic hair beneath. I couldn't help but linger a while, mesmerized by the view beneath her skirt. Suddenly, the woman spoke in a soft, sweet voice, "Could I have a sketch drawn?"
I quickly looked away from her skirt and lowered my head, saying, "Of course, small ones are ten yuan, large ones are thirty yuan." I gestured to the chair opposite me, indicating for her to sit down.
She lifted her skirt and sat down, her legs crossed and slightly angled, her hands resting on her knees. Her graceful movements and posture were incredibly captivating. I looked up at her, and she was looking at me too.
"Professor Ying, it's you!" I exclaimed in surprise, realizing she was a university professor.
"Wang Dang, it's you!" she replied, equally surprised, standing up. "It's been so long! What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I've been setting up a painting stall here lately to earn some pocket money."
Section Two: Spring Scenery in the Rain. Teacher Ying was our physical education teacher in our freshman year, but she left the university last year to start her own clothing design company. Teacher Ying is about thirty-four or thirty-five years old, married with children, but because of her excellent maintenance, she looks no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight. She has beautifully drawn eyebrows, a delicate nose, sexy red lips, and a pretty face. Her skin is fair, smooth, and delicate, her figure is well-proportioned and slender, with a slim waist, rounded buttocks, and a pair of large breasts. She possessed all the beauty a woman could want. During her figure-building class, she wore a leotard, her figure lithe and alluring, her snow-white, delicate thighs captivating countless boys.
In the midst of our conversation, a bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a deafening roar, and suddenly raindrops the size of soybeans began to fall, sparse at first, then pouring down like a waterfall. I hastily packed up my art stall, not even bothering to pack it up, and ran with Teacher Ying to the entrance of a nearby shopping mall to seek shelter. The walk was two or three hundred meters long, and by the time we reached shelter, I was soaked to the bone.
When I... After stopping, I muttered a curse at the heavy rain. Looking back, I saw that Teacher Ying was also soaked. Because of her thin clothing, her skirt and underwear were now semi-transparent, clinging to her shapely buttocks. Her high-quality nylon stockings were also completely wet.
Several people were taking shelter from the rain at the mall entrance, and many men were giving her strange looks. Teacher Ying was very embarrassed and flustered, her head lowered, her face flushed, and her arms tightly crossed over her chest.
I quickly stepped forward and stood in front of her. "Teacher Ying, please wrap your t-shirt around your neck!" I said. I took off my t-shirt and gave it to her; she wiped her skirt a little.
I looked up, shirtless, and saw the rain was getting heavier and heavier, clearly not going to stop anytime soon. My supplies were mostly dry, except for three or four sheets of paper; I threw the wet wipes away. After a while, Ms. Ying had dried her skirt a bit, and it wasn't clinging to her buttocks anymore, but her underwear was soaked through. Perhaps feeling uncomfortable in the wetness, she slightly bent over and wrapped her t-shirt around her waist.
She brushed her hair aside, smiled, and said, "Wang, thank you. Aren't you cold being naked like this?"
"I'm not cold. I take cold showers all year round. Look, I don't even have goosebumps." I puffed out my chest and stretched out my arms for her to see.
"Hmm, you're really strong," Teacher Ying smiled.
"But, Teacher Ying, look, the rain is getting heavier and heavier. It doesn't look like it's going to stop tonight. What should we do?"
I wanted to leave, but then I thought better of it. It wouldn't be safe for a woman like me to be out in the rain like this.
Teacher Ying had thought of the same thing and said with some worry, "Yes, look, everyone else has already left in the rain. It's just the two of us now, but it's not good for me to be dressed like this in the rain." After saying that, Teacher Ying looked around at the people who were running and leaving in the rain.
“Yes, let’s wait a little longer, we can go when the rain gets a bit lighter.” I stopped blocking her way and moved to the side.
We waited… The rainy night was a bit chilly, and Ms. Ying shivered slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. Two hours later, the rain intensified, the ground was flooded, and the rushing water was incessant. It seemed like we were the only ones left on the bustling commercial street, except for the glittering lights.
Actually, I didn’t know how long I would stay with her. My place was far, but only thirty minutes away; I wasn’t afraid to go in the rain if I wanted to.
"Why don't we escape too! My company is nearby, about ten minutes away. Let's go to my company first!"
Ms. Ying finally made up her mind. As she spoke, she reached out and took my arm, pressing her body close to mine, her warm breath gradually exhaling from her nose onto my face. It
was the first time I had been so close to a woman, and my body couldn't help but stiffen a little. Ms. Ying, however, was very generous. She pulled me along, laughing sweetly, "Come on, let's go!" and rushed into the relentless curtain of rain. I couldn't help but be infected by her and shouted as I rushed out. We ran for our lives... Section 3: The Charming Woman Soon we arrived at the entrance of the building where Ms. Ying's company was located. After stopping, we were still holding each other's hands tightly. Looking at each other, we couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. The heavy rain had completely ruined Ms. Ying's hairstyle. Her shoulder-length short hair was plastered to the back of her neck by the water. My t-shirt wasn't wrapped around her waist; I didn't know when she had taken it off.
Her thin dress, soaked with water, became almost transparent, revealing her alluring, perky breasts. Beneath the white gauze, only two skin-colored, nearly transparent bras tightly encased her full breasts, the areolas protruding slightly against the fabric. The
skin-colored demi-cup bra seemed insufficient to completely conceal her ample bosom. Pale pink areolas peeked from the edges of the lace-embroidered bra cups, revealing a deep cleavage. With a slight twist of her waist, her fair breasts were partially exposed.
Her stockings clung tightly to her rounded buttocks and long, slender legs, making her appear almost naked in the water. Beneath her completely transparent, sexy silk panties, the forbidden abyss of her genitals was faintly visible; her bulging vulva was like a perfectly ripe peach, with lovely pink labia and black pubic hair comfortably covering her sacred feminine domain, clearly visible.

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