My sex partner, teacher Ann

Ann is an art teacher at a university, teaching fine arts, and she's also one of my casual sex partners.

On Friday night, she came to my room as promised, opened the door, turned on the living room light, and led Ann to the sofa, inviting her to sit down. I turned around, turned on the stereo, and put on a Bandari CD, "The Misty Forest," which I really liked. I opened the refrigerator, took out a can of beer, opened it, and handed it to her.

I went to the bathroom to tidy up and filled the bathtub with warm water. "Bathing together," the phrase flashed through my mind. Back in the living room, she had already finished the beer, playing with the empty can while looking at the book "Pursuit" scattered on the sofa.

"Go take a shower, relax," I said.

"Okay," she said, taking the bathrobe I handed her and going straight to the bathroom.

I went back to the pantry, took a bottle of Bordeaux 1861, two wine glasses, put them on the serving cart, and grabbed a bag of olives, pushing the cart to the corner of the bedroom.

When I came out of the bedroom, Ann was already walking out of the bathroom with damp hair.

"This bathrobe is too big, it feels weird wearing it," she complained.

"Then change it, your pajamas are by the bed." I lit a cigarette and walked into the bathroom.

Ann was thoughtful; the water in the bathtub had already been changed, and the temperature was just right. I lay in the water, looking at the change of clothes neatly placed on the hanger, and all the toiletries were also organized within my reach. It felt really good to have a woman by my side.

I dried myself off, put on my pajamas, and turned off the lights one by one on my way to the bedroom. I grabbed a box of ice cubes from the refrigerator as I passed by; I might need them later.

I opened the bedroom door, and Ann was sitting on the edge of the bed, still reading "Pursuit." I walked to the corner and pushed the trolley to the bedside.

Savoring the rich aroma of Bordeaux, and looking at Ann's flushed cheeks, I felt a wave of dizziness, wondering what she was thinking.

I put down my wine glass, went around behind Ann, and slowly knelt on the bed, pressing close to her. My hands caressed her shoulders, and I breathed softly into her ear. She didn't resist, but her face flushed even more. I kissed her earlobe, feeling her rising body temperature. She placed her wine glass on the trolley, slowly turned her head, and I pressed my lips to hers, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her lips. Our tongues met, and like an electric shock, she trembled slowly.

I laid her across the bed and untied the sash of her nightgown. Radiant.

Steep peaks and deep valleys, all laid bare. I bent down, sucked on a ripe grape, and gently licked it, inhaling her unique fragrance, a fragrance that could make one lose oneself. My hands moved downwards, across the plains, reaching the meadow, my hands traversing the grass. That fluffy feeling gave me a sense of warmth, as if a voice from afar was calling to me, making me linger.

I held the tempting grape in my mouth, my left hand fumbling for an ice cube on the food cart. Then, I rose slightly, holding the ice cube in my teeth, and buried myself in the towering mountains, slowly sliding along the mountain path towards that sacred forbidden land… The ice melted, leaving a trail of water like a mountain spring. Perhaps stimulated by the ice, she trembled even more violently; perhaps it was the temptation itself.

I buried myself in the fragrant grass, feeling the pleasant scent. I opened my mouth, taking in that dense spring, gently stroking the round red bean with my teeth, feeling its swelling, its hardness.

Trembling, Ann trembled incessantly. I entered, and in that moment, we became one.

In this late autumn night, I saw flashes of lightning in her dark eyes, heard her soft moans.

I felt that each withdrawal was death, each entry was rebirth.

Her trembling, Ann, the beauty of contractions from the depths of her body completely conquered me.

Gazing at her face, I felt a wave of dizziness in the textured light. The metallic sheen reflecting from her skin carried her body heat—cool yet hot, intensely hot enough to burn. Watching her unfold layer by layer, until her stamen, that dreamlike pink bloom, so full, so abundant, so unadorned, so completely open.

"There is a kind of beauty that needs no passion; a kind of joy that needs no shyness; a kind of conquest that needs no words."

And I, I succumbed, succumbed, to this beauty, this joy, this conquest…

[The End]

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My sex partner, teacher Ann

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