Xinjiang teachers

I work as a graphic designer, and recently I moved my studio to a more upscale office building. This allows me to directly communicate with the companies in the building. I also hired two girls as clerks. When I get work, I do some of it myself and outsource the rest to other designers, paying them accordingly. Because I've been in this industry for a while, my English is quite good, and I have some regular clients. I also offer relatively high commissions to my clients, so business has been consistently good.
Sometimes when I'm out late, I look for a place to eat near the office building. I discovered a really good Xinjiang restaurant not far from here. They have song and dance performances during dinner, and at the end of the performance, the dancers always come down and invite the diners to dance with them. Generally, Chinese people are more reserved, while foreigners are much more open, often dancing wildly with wide smiles.
The dancers are all quite good-looking, and what's unusual is that they wear high heels while dancing. After each performance here, they quickly jump into a Jinbei van and speed away, probably heading to another show.
One day, I was having dinner with some friends, and after a few drinks, I was in high spirits when a girl suddenly invited me to dance. Encouraged by my friends, I joined her. When I was in school, I had gone to Xinjiang to sketch and learned to dance Xinjiang dance. Surprisingly, I danced quite well, keeping the rhythm. My friends cheered loudly, and the Xinjiang girl I danced with was also very happy. Her eyes crinkled into crescent moons with her smile, and her nose perked up – she was very beautiful.
After that, whenever I went out to eat and they were performing, I would raise my glass to her, and she would wink and smile at me. From then on, I would usually wait until their performance was over before leaving. One day, after watching a show and paying for my meal, I went to the parking lot outside. Just as I was about to drive away, I saw the girl I had danced with before running out in a panic. She was so anxious when she saw their car leave that she stomped her feet. She saw me and ran over to me, very generously asking if I could give her a ride. I said no problem, and I took her to a nightclub she pointed out. On the way, I noticed that she spoke Mandarin quite well. When I asked her her name, she gave me a string of names that I couldn't quite remember, but I remembered the pronunciation of "Guli," so I said, "I'll call you Guli then."
She happily said, "Okay, Guli. Good, good." When we arrived at the nightclub, she quickly ran inside.
Not far from where I live, there's a well-known small commodity wholesale market that I often drive past. That day, I saw Guli coming out of it, so I rolled down the window and called out, "Guli!" She saw me and happily ran over, opening the car door and getting in. We chatted in the car. I said, "Why aren't you busy this morning?" She said, "The performance is tonight, so I slept this morning. I bought some clothes today."
From the side, Guli's features were very beautiful, with an exotic charm. I said, "Let's find a place, and I'll take some photos of you."
She was delighted, so I turned around and left the city. We chatted on the way and I learned she was a kindergarten teacher in a city in Xinjiang. She was out performing during the summer to earn money. We arrived at a small reservoir, and she took out her camera and posed for me to take pictures. Afterwards, she looked at the photos on the camera and liked them very much. I said I'd develop them and give them to her, but she said she didn't want her friends to see me giving her the photos. I said she could pick them up herself, and she gave me her phone number.
I did some simple editing on the computer, printed out her photos, and put them in an album. I also enlarged a few to 24 inches and called her. She was very excited and impatient, so I arranged to meet her at the entrance of the wholesale market that morning.
The next day, I arrived on time and saw her already looking around. When she saw me, she immediately came up to me, and I took her to my private studio.
When I graduated, I was among the last batch of people assigned jobs by the state. I was assigned to a publishing house as an art editor, and the publishing house also allocated me an apartment. Of course, it was one of those old Soviet-style houses built in the 1950s, with two bedrooms but no living room, but the rooms were very large. After receiving the apartment, I stopped working and did freelance work. Later, the publishing house talked to me, saying I had to either resign or be fired, and I chose to resign.
These old government compounds were full of elderly people, or people who rented out their rooms. They looked very old, but the buildings were spaced far apart, so parking wasn't a problem. I kept it and converted it into my private studio.
Guli hesitated as she followed me up the dark, dirty stairwell. I walked a few steps ahead, and when I opened the door, she exclaimed "Wow!" My large room was nearly 30 square meters, with wooden flooring reinforced with joists. A combined workbench held two computers: an IBM for sending and receiving documents and word processing, and an Apple professional for image processing, along with two printers and a chair. That was all the furniture. Photos of Guli hung on the four walls. She excitedly kissed me, took off her shoes, and ran inside.
The bathroom in this old-style house was small, without a floor drain, so there was no way to shower. However, the kitchen was large; in the days of coal burning, there was even a coal storage pit. I converted the kitchen into a sauna, leaving only a small area for cooking. The refrigerator was placed in the hallway. The bedroom is also over 20 square meters. I used black imitation stone floor tiles, with a sheepskin rug on top. The walls and ceiling are made of black walnut wood, making the whole room look like a cave. It has a full set of audio-visual home theater equipment, and the bookshelves and desk are in the same style.
Guli uttered a string of words I couldn't understand. Seeing me looking at her, she said again, "This place is so beautiful." I said, "It's you who are so beautiful."
She turned around and kissed me again. This time, I took the opportunity to put my arm around her waist. She struggled for a moment but didn't break free, so she stopped struggling. I faced her, my arms around her. Her arms naturally wrapped around my neck. One of my hands stroked her back like silk, while the other hand pulled her closer, bringing her pubic bone closer to me. She could feel the bulge in my groin. My hand moved down her back, slowly sliding down her waist to her buttocks, gently stroking them, and then down her thighs. Guli's breathing became rapid, her nostrils flaring. I gently kissed her forehead and whispered, "Come to bed with me." She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembled, and she nodded gently.
The bedroom was dark with the curtains drawn, so I only turned on a floor lamp. Guli took off her clothes one by one and crawled into bed. I took off my clothes and put on a condom. She looked at me from the bed with her eyes blinking. As soon as we were in bed, she hugged me tightly and let me press down on her. Her body had a unique girlish scent, the muttony smell from eating mutton, and the special scent of her armpits, all mixed together, which was very stimulating. I thought that the Fragrant Concubine, whom Emperor Qianlong loved, might have smelled like this.
Perhaps because of her dance training, her waist and legs were very strong. Her waist was always straight, and she wrapped her legs around me, which helped her exert force. She kept moaning and occasionally letting out a soft cry.
After we finished, we took a nap. Guli said she wanted to take a bath here, so I wrapped a bath towel around myself and helped her run the water. Guli followed me naked, with a satisfied smile on her face. While I was washing her, I helped her scrub her back and massaged her breasts at the same time. She would occasionally gasp, which aroused me again. I penetrated her from behind. She held onto the wall and stood on tiptoe to adjust to my height, and moved her front to match my thrusts.
After we came out, I offered to treat her to lunch, but she said no, as it would cause trouble if her people saw her.
While she was getting dressed, I noticed her underwear was all cheap stuff from street vendors, and her stockings, lacking elasticity, were held together with rubber bands.
I asked if she still wanted to come, and she hugged my head and kissed me, saying she could come anytime as long as it wasn't at night, and to call, not text.
For safety, I bought a separate phone and got a SIM card. At 4 PM, I called her from my office and asked her to come the next day. She said, "Okay, see you at the usual place," and hung up.
The next day, I arrived on time as usual. She was already there. Before we even entered the bedroom, Guli started impatiently undressing, then passionately hugged and kissed me, completely naked, hooking one leg around me and rubbing her body tightly against mine. Because it was a cloudy day and not very bright outside, I only closed the blinds so I could properly admire Guli's naked body. Guli was tall and slender, with small but firm breasts, pale areolas, and small nipples. She had a short torso, long legs, a pert bottom, thick pubic hair, long, slender fingers, and long, delicate feet. I have a particular fondness for women's feet; generally, women with beautiful hands also have beautiful feet.
In bed, I placed her legs on my shoulders so that I could turn my head and use the stubble on my chin to prick the soles of her feet. Her toes rubbed together in excitement, and the insteps arched into a bow shape.
We rolled off the bed onto the floor. I lay on the wool carpet, and Gul rubbed her breasts against mine as she bounced up and down, constantly kissing my lips, cheeks, neck, and ears.
From then on, we met twice a week, once on Wednesday and once on Saturday, always in the morning, gradually extending to the afternoon. At noon, Gul would cook me pilaf naked, and she would never refuse me if I wanted her. Even when chopping vegetables or cooking, she would satisfy me first before doing any work. I had heard that Arab women were very modest in public, but unrestrained at home, and now it seemed true. Gul told me to only eat mutton and onions from now on, saying that Muslim men could marry four women and satisfy them, mainly by eating mutton and onions, so that I would have the strength to deal with four women to deal with her alone.
Because it was summer and the weather was hot, and Gul was wearing long sleeves, long skirts, or long pants, and she wasn't used to air conditioning, she would strip naked as soon as she entered the door, not even wearing slippers. The room was immediately filled with her sweat and unique body fragrance, which was very stimulating. Guli said my floor was cleaner than my table, and I said of course, the hourly cleaner comes three times a week to clean it, so it's definitely clean. I often use lipstick to draw flowers or patterns on her feet and ankles, which, combined with her naked body, is very alluring, and Guli likes it very much. I gave her a gold bracelet, but she was too embarrassed to wear it, so she wore it as an anklet, completely naked except for the chain on her ankle. Guli has endless energy. When I get tired, she rolls over on top of me, supports herself with her hands on my hands, and bounces up and down, with increasingly larger movements. I'm afraid she might accidentally break my penis, so I let go and hold her waist, letting her lie on top of me, so that she won't go too crazy. She then kisses me wildly while bouncing around, her whole body drenched in sweat, her long hair sticking to her body. After we finished, she wouldn't let me off the hook while showering. She would always pull my penis along to shower with her, then use her body to wash me. When I sat on the sauna bench, Guli would straddle one of my thighs, wrap her arms around my neck, and giggle, rubbing her genitals against my thighs. When I stood up, Guli would often kneel in front of me, sucking my penis, and then rubbing my genitals with her breasts.
Once, we slept for a while after being intimate. When I woke up, I wanted to shower, but Guli told me to go first while she read in bed. When I came back from showering, I saw her naked, leaning against a pile of pillows looking at a picture book, her legs slightly parted, her vulva faintly visible. I casually grabbed a few peanuts and flicked them between her legs. Guli cried out in surprise, glaring at me reproachfully. I ignored her and continued flicking peanuts at her breasts, hitting her erect nipples squarely. Guli was overjoyed, bending her knees and spreading her legs wide, completely exposing her genitals. She looked at me with a beaming smile. Encouraged, I began my shooting game; each time I hit her, her whole body would tremble slightly. Guli's genitals were wet, a peanut stuck to them. Guli's body arched back, her waist and hips rising off the bed like an arch, her hands vigorously kneading her breasts. Her legs spread even wider, and a trickle of love juice flowed from her peach blossom cave. I couldn't resist taking her again.
I bought her clothes, underwear, and socks. She only wanted the ordinary ones, afraid to take anything too expensive, worried that her friends would notice something was wrong. I noticed she always wore long socks and said, "It's hot, you should wear short socks, or go barefoot. Your feet are so beautiful." Guli's feet were indeed very beautiful, but she had sweaty feet; they always felt damp and had a strong odor. There's an old saying: "A man's head, a woman's feet—look but don't touch." No matter how good the relationship between men is, you can't pat their heads. But with women, you can only hold their feet and stroke them a few times, and even the most fierce woman will soften.
Guli said her leg hair was too thick, so she could only wear long stockings. It's true that Xinjiang girls tend to have a lot of body hair, probably due to their high meat consumption and strong body odor. The perfume I bought for her, mixed with her scent, further stimulated my primal urges. Perhaps due to different traditions, Guli dared to moan unrestrainedly when aroused. When she wanted, she would tease and seduce me with various positions and dance moves, even leaning against the doorframe and raising one of her long legs above her head, allowing me to stand and possess her from the front. Even when she was menstruating, she still wanted me. Afraid of problems, I would hold my penis and only penetrate her a little bit. At first, it was okay, but when she became aroused, she would pull my hands away, allowing me to enter completely.
Guli loves taking photos. I took her to the suburbs a few times, and she always responded with enthusiasm upon our return. However, when I took photos of her naked body in our room, she became furious, spouting words I couldn't understand. I quickly said, "You can delete them. Just take them for fun. You can delete them after you've seen them." She didn't believe me, so I deleted them to show her. Then she let me take the photos, posing in various ways. She also liked me to take pictures of her naked dancing, including many high kicks and splits, exposing her genitals completely. After taking the photos, she would admire them on the computer, commenting on them and laughing happily. Then she would delete them, unaware that I could recover the deleted photos on the computer and save them to my external hard drive for me to enjoy alone.
I downloaded pornographic videos for her to watch, which she watched with great interest. In bed, she would imitate the characters riding on me, bouncing and making fake moans, then lying on top of me and laughing.
When she saw a woman being sandwiched or a woman dealing with multiple men, she covered her mouth, her eyes wide and very cute. I said, "Where you live, a man marrying four women is like a teapot with four cups, but in Europe and America, it's like several teapots pouring water into one cup."
Watching the man and dog scene, she pointed at the screen and said, "How can this be?"
I said, "Why not?"
Then I found a large teddy bear and teddy dog toy, tied sex toys from a sex shop to it, and had her pose naked, imitating the poses on the computer for photos. She was completely obedient, even making various lewd movements, carelessly inserting the sex toys into herself, laughing and giggling as she took the pictures. Afterwards, she immediately pulled me to bed.
One day, after getting off the bus, a small, shaky stray dog followed us downstairs. Guli insisted on taking it home. As soon as we entered, she gave the dog a bath. Seeing her beautiful naked body with a dog was truly erotic.
I had another thing to do: take care of the puppy. But this meant Guli was coming over more often, so I gave her a key. I was busy with work, so she stayed home and played with the dog. After a while,
I grew attached to the dog. At night, when it lay at my feet, I thought of Guli. One time, right after we finished, because it was Guli's safe period, I didn't use a condom and ejaculated inside her. I got up, and the puppy jumped on top of me and started licking the fluid coming from her genitals. Guli didn't resist at all; instead, she opened her legs and laughed, calling for me to look. I quickly took out my camera to take pictures. Guli asked me to take more. The puppy's tongue was completely inside her. Guli gradually became infatuated, her legs wide open, her hands kneading her breasts, her back arched, and she kept moaning. Later, the puppy's pointed nose even protruded inside. I thought to myself, "It's a pity she's a female dog. If it were a male..."
We maintained this relationship for almost two months. One day, Guli, with red eyes, said she had to go back to Xinjiang and start school. I was also very sad. I left her my address and said I would definitely visit her. When I left, she took the artistic photos I had taken of her and the little dog.

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