The mature female teacher who is eleven years older

This was ten years ago, in 2004. I was a senior in college in northern China, my hormones were raging, and QQ had only been around for a few years. Back then, I used QQ to find mature women because I felt that young girls lacked the sophistication and skill of mature women. Background information, now to the main point.

One summer, while browsing the internet, someone added me. Looking at her profile, she was eleven years older than me, exactly my target. After adding her, we chatted frequently. I learned she was a primary school teacher in northern China, her son was only two years old, and her husband worked in a city over 600 kilometers away. We chatted quite comfortably. She was a very intelligent woman; with just a slight hint, she knew what I was thinking. Chatting with her didn't require much effort. During our conversations, I intentionally or unintentionally hinted at wanting to have sex, and she implied the same thing in her words. Neither of us explicitly stated our intentions; it was all about understanding each other implicitly. I felt this kind of chatting was very comfortable because she was indeed very intelligent, and I like dealing with intelligent people.

After nine days—you read that right, only nine days—things took a turn for the better. Nine days after we met, I asked her to go to a hotel with me on QQ. Back then, I didn't have a cell phone, so we communicated entirely online. We agreed on a place, and I picked her up in my rich classmate's beat-up car. Once she got in the car, she looked quite different from her photos. The photos she had sent me before showed her wearing sunglasses, petite, and not even 1.6 meters tall—not at all like a typical tomboy from northern China. Seeing her in person, I really didn't like her. Her eyes seemed unsettling; perhaps it was a habit from being a teacher, which had instilled a certain air of authority.

I almost gave up on having sex with her, but thinking that since we were already there, I might as well make the best of it, I went with her to a hotel near the school (hotels near schools are usually brothels). After paying the hourly rate at the front desk (back then, you didn't need an ID card or deposit; now it's much stricter), I took her to the room.

After we both entered the room and closed the door, I drew the curtains, leaving only a few rays of sunlight to create a hazy atmosphere. I didn't pounce on her like a hungry wolf. She put down her bag and sat upright and dignified in the chair. I didn't want to get straight to the point, so I sat on the bed and chatted with her casually for a few minutes. Feeling quite bored, I thought it was time to get down to business. After all, I invited you here today to have sex. Meeting someone online and not having sex? What a joke! We're both so busy! Then I slowly and naturally strolled up behind her, casually placing my hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and smiled at me. I leaned down and slipped my tongue into her mouth, sucking hard on it until it intertwined with hers. I slowly wrapped my arms around her, then, while kissing her, pulled her towards the bed and pressed her down. She looked at me with some panic and said, "What are you doing? You can't..." I thought to myself, "You're just showing off." I said, "Heh, I'm going to be an animal." I pressed myself against her and sealed her lips with mine, preventing her from speaking. She pushed against my body, trying to stop me, so I pressed her hands under her body. My hands also became restless, caressing her breasts through her clothes. She unconsciously let out a soft moan. At that time, I didn't know her breast size, but one hand could just cover them—soft and comfortable. Not content with just that, I slipped my hand inside her bra. At first, it was very gentle, and she let out a soft, feminine moan. Then, she mumbled something indistinctly, telling me to grab her breasts harder. Damn it! Well, then I didn't hold back. So I just went ahead and roughly fondled her breasts. Since she wasn't my girlfriend, I figured she might like a more vigorous sex experience. I simply stripped her clothes, underwear, and pants all at once. Then, unexpectedly, she said she was on her period. Damn it! A million curses ran through my mind! Oh well, she was already undressed, leaving only her sexy black panties covering her vulva under the panty liner. Then my hands started to wander restlessly downwards, my fingers pointing downwards and slowly extending downwards. My mouth kept nibbling at every exposed patch of skin, my restless fingers sliding across her vulva, gently rubbing the edges through her panties. A little fluid was already seeping out... While she was enjoying herself with her eyes closed, I dipped my finger in the fluid and smelled it. There was no strange odor; she should still be a clean young woman. I just didn't expect this outwardly dignified teacher to be so sexually frustrated. Perhaps she hadn't received any pleasure from her husband or other men in a long time... At this point, I could feel my penis hardening... I really couldn't take it anymore, so I stripped myself naked, my heart burning with desire. But then she got her period, so I asked her if I could put my penis in her mouth. She nodded demurely. Damn, what a pleasant surprise! (Ten years ago, oral sex wasn't a common topic). Then I lay down on the bed, and she rolled over, her long hair flying behind her. She lowered her head, opened her mouth, and took my penis in. Her mouth started exploring up and down, but it wasn't very comfortable; there was a teeth-like sensation. I thought oral sex was supposed to be pleasurable, but it was like this. It didn't match the descriptions in porn... Later, I came up with a plan. I said, "Just treat my penis like ice cream." After that, things improved a lot. It felt really good; her warm lips enveloped my penis, and I almost ejaculated! After a few minutes of oral sex, I felt like I was about to ejaculate, so I told her to lie down and I'd sit on her breasts. She obediently did as I said, and then I straddled her, aimed at her mouth, and thrust in hard. She cried out, "Ah!" Damn, it felt like it went right down her throat. I pulled out, and she let out another moan. I thrust in again. "Kill me," she murmured, begging for mercy. ... I continued to thrust shallowly in and out of her mouth, occasionally reaching deep into her throat, causing her to gag. Later, she said it was her first time giving oral sex—who knows? Anyway, I had it in her mouth. Slowly, I started to thrust harder, and it felt really good, especially straddling her breasts, looking down at her, exchanging glances with her—there was a feeling of conquest! I thrust downwards forcefully, repeatedly reaching her mouth, occasionally hitting her throat. I felt like I couldn't take it anymore; I felt like I was about to ejaculate. My excitement was reaching its peak, but I was also incredibly tired on top. So, without thinking twice, I grabbed her head with both hands and moved it up and down. "I can't take it anymore, hold it tighter..." I pressed her head down hard, sliding it up and down on my penis. Ahh... I started to calm myself down, preparing for the final sprint, speeding up my attack on her mouth. Finally, my muscles contracted, my prostate opened, and thick streams of semen shot into her mouth under the influence of gravity. Still wanting more, I used my fingers to wipe the head of my penis back and forth on her lips.

After I finished, she ran to the toilet and vomited all the semen out. I didn't hear her gagging in the toilet, so she probably could accept the taste of the protein in the semen (because I had previously sent her an article about women eating semen, saying it had beauty and skin-nourishing effects, so you still have to put in the effort when picking up girls). I held her in my arms on the bed, lit a cigarette, and the wisps of smoke accompanied the endless emptiness and loneliness after ejaculation. I whispered some sweet nothings to her, and after resting for a while, we checked out of the hotel. In the car, she kept staring at me. Later, I asked her why she kept looking at me, and she said she had a bad memory and was afraid of forgetting me. I don't know what she meant.

[The End]

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The mature female teacher who is eleven years older

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