The elegant female teacher in the neighborhood

At the beginning of the year, having been discharged from the army but not assigned a job, I found a night shift at a parking lot in the residential community of a company in the city. The pay wasn't high, it was a 12-hour shift, and there weren't many cars, so the main job was patrolling.

Over time, I noticed a young woman.

Since most of the people there were employees, they would usually take a walk in the community garden after dinner, so I naturally saw them more often. At first, we would just greet each other, and after we got to know each other, we would sometimes chat for a bit.

But this young woman was a bit different; she didn't talk much to people. Every evening after dinner, she would take her son for a walk and then go home. (Let's call her W for now.) Why did I notice her? Because she had a certain charm that attracted me.

W wasn't tall, about 1.6 meters, with a shapely figure—not thin, but definitely not fat, very well-proportioned, with curves in all the right places, a slim waist and thick legs (as she later described herself); short hair, big eyes, and an oval face. Her looks alone would be a 75+, but with the addition of "charm," it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say 95+.

Well, she's calm and gentle. Seeing her makes me feel at ease, and I want to get to know her, but she's like a summer night breeze—you want to approach her, but you can't.

To be honest, I didn't think much of it back then. Her kids are old enough to run errands; what's the point of thinking about it? It wasn't until one evening after dinner, when I was teaching a group of kids in the yard some martial arts, that I had my first real conversation with her.

Once that started, things got easier, and I often chatted with her afterward, and we became more familiar with each other.

W is a music teacher at the elementary school in our neighborhood. She's a great listener and a good conversationalist. A woman like that has a unique气质 (qi zhi, a kind of refined elegance or poise). She only asks questions and expresses her opinions at appropriate times, without abruptly interrupting you, which makes me enjoy chatting with her even more.

Summer arrived quickly, and SARS began to rage. However, it didn't affect my city, a third-tier city in central inland China, much. Nevertheless, my workplace still distributed several large packets of Ganju Tang (licorice root, platycodon root, rehmannia root, etc., sliced and steeped in hot water to make tea to relieve internal heat).

I'm naturally prone to heatiness, and drinking it brought out all that heat. I had a toothache for two weeks, unable to even bite into a steamed bun; the slightest touch brought tears to my eyes. I forced myself to eat cold noodles for two weeks straight.

When W found out, she would occasionally bring me ice-cold beer or watermelon in the evenings. Later, I would also occasionally visit her home to help her change light bulbs or fuses.

Then, in August, a computer craze swept through W's school, so she asked me to bring her my old study materials (I studied computer applications in both vocational school and junior college) to her home, and to tutor her a little, but I had to be up before 11 pm (her exact words).

To be honest, even if I were naive back then, I knew W might be interested in me. Think about it: after dinner, she was home alone (her child was with her grandfather), and I was tutoring her. She was wearing a red and white striped tank top, and I could see black bra straps on her shoulders… I knew she might be testing (or seducing) me, but I didn't dare have any improper thoughts—she had a family, children, and a husband. Maybe it was just that married women were more casual; I couldn't overthink it!

Later, I learned that she was ten years older than me, her husband ran a teahouse (actually a card room), and he rarely came home, maybe once every ten days or so. Their relationship wasn't good; if it weren't for the child, W would have filed for divorce long ago, but he refused, so it just dragged on.

I went to W's house more and more often, either to help or tutor her, but we both tacitly avoided anything inappropriate. Our feelings remained within the bounds of propriety; she would always ask me to leave before 11 pm. And so, another month passed.

One night in late September, while I was on duty, a drunk man approached me saying he needed something. He put his arm around my neck and tried to pull me aside. But I'd trained for it all in the last two years; I grabbed his arm around my neck, twisted and lifted him, and without thinking, kicked him in the back of the knee… The guy started yelling, accusing me of seducing his wife and all that… He yelled, but he didn't dare lay a hand on me. The commotion attracted a bunch of people who came down to watch. And then, nothing happened. Whether I seduced her or not, I lost my job.

After being unemployed for a couple of days, W contacted me and left a message, apologizing and inviting me to dinner. I agreed without hesitation (actually, I wanted to see her).

At a riverside food stall, we had beer, peanuts, and lamb skewers. W started by apologizing, saying she shouldn't have pinned such a mess on a penniless guy like me. After a few bottles, emboldened by the alcohol, I directly asked W if she was interested in me. She nodded slightly. "

What else is there to drink?" I asked. "The bill! I like you too!"

"Kiss, teach me!" I said.

That night marked the true beginning between her and me...

After clarifying our relationship with W, the rest was a natural progression.

You might ask, why would a young man in his early twenties be interested in a woman in her thirties?

Actually, W asked me this question many times later, and I answered it many times: it's a matter of personal taste. Some people like green apples, enjoying their unripe sweetness and tartness; I, on the other hand, like red apples, the fully ripe ones, enjoying their mature appearance and the rich sweetness that green apples lack.

Still don't understand? Some people like young girls, enjoying their innocent purity (too little experience); I like mature women, enjoying their mature femininity and the charm that young girls lack, refined by life and time.

Then, W added: "She can take care of you, love you, and remind you of things, satisfying your little bit of Oedipus complex."

W is right, there is a little bit of that—but so what? My mom passed away when I was 14, and I lacked the care and affection of a close female friend. Can't I get some back?

After that night (we didn't do anything, just a kiss and some touching), W and I often went out together (she only worked half-days). I basically took her to all the tourist spots in our small town.

I could tell that W's life used to be very monotonous and boring, because she didn't even know about many fun places.

That period was the happiest time for us (maybe that's what being in love feels like). We agreed that if she called me, she would add two letters we had agreed on beforehand at the end of the message, which only she and I would know, to distinguish us.

During that period, it was mostly just kissing, touching, and hugging; nothing more. But it was obvious that W was genuinely happy and enjoying the feeling of being in love. The slightly gloomy feeling she used to give off had disappeared, and her complexion had noticeably improved, radiating youthful vitality (this feeling is rather inexplicable, something that can only be felt, not explained).

In November, W's husband, perhaps having heard some rumors, repeatedly called me using W's mobile phone. He wouldn't speak after the call connected, but each time, because he didn't have a "verification code," I would pretend to be harassed and yell at him (though I knew perfectly well what was going on).

Finally, I went to W's house and, using the pretext of her frequent harassment, got into a fight with W's husband.

After that, W's husband probably stopped suspecting anything, but he still felt uneasy, like a bone stuck in his throat.

He knew that many men were after W, and he knew that W was often at home or out drinking alone late at night because she was unhappy and depressed. But then rumors started circulating that W and I had an inappropriate relationship, yet he couldn't find any evidence—the bitterness of that is something you have to experience to understand!

During the day, I took W shopping, to tourist attractions, to the river, and to some historical sites in the city that she didn't know about. She was often amazed that there were so many places in the city she didn't know about.

Of course, this was thanks to the fact that I'm the eldest son in my generation; my grandfather was very close to me, and when I was little, he would take me all over the place on his old bicycle every day, not just in the city, but even to all the fun places in the suburbs.

In the evenings, it was always roadside stalls and open-air restaurants. I would talk, and she would listen; or she would talk, and I would offer advice, plus some jokes to make her laugh.

Summer 2004 arrived quickly. W often asked me why I liked being with her. Being clumsy with words, I just told her the truth: I felt happy, relaxed, and at ease with her. We could talk without any reservations, and it felt very comfortable. W's response was to gently hold my head against her chest, and I wrapped my arms around her waist. We held each other like that for over half an hour.

But, being a man, I wouldn't forget my ultimate goal. So, one night in June 2004, after a dozen beers, ignoring W's groggy protests about wanting to go back to the community center, I took a taxi to my small apartment at work. I paid the fare, carried her out of the car, into the apartment

, closed the door, put her on the bed, and took off her shoes. Then… then I took a towel and used cool water to wipe the sweat from W's face and neck—it would be a lie to say I didn't want to, but if you like a woman and love her, you have to respect her. I couldn't force myself on her against her will!

After a few wipes, my trembling hand was grabbed by W and pressed directly onto her large breasts! My alcohol-soaked brain was on fire!

But! The worst part was that, maybe it was because I'd had too much to drink, or maybe it was because I was too excited (how could I not be excited? After over twenty years, I was finally experiencing this!), W and I sadly discovered that my little brother wouldn't get hard!

I tried everything, W teased me relentlessly (actually, she's rather conservative and only uses her hands), but it just wouldn't get hard! By this point, W had completely let loose, panting as she whispered in my ear, "Little thing, are you trying to drive me crazy?" After all this

time, we were both naked, and this was the result? I felt like hanging myself from a crooked tree! Thankfully,

W held back her laughter and gently comforted me, saying I'd had too much to drink and not to worry, we'd try again tomorrow night. I

spent the day in doubt, and that night W came to find me. Without a word, we continued!

To my surprise, I wasn't impotent! But! But!! Damn, even though I'd studied so many action films, I still couldn't quite get into it when it came to practice. W

had to guide me through the process before I even started! The moment I entered, I almost went limp. It was a soft, warm, muddy mess. W, panting, told me to take it slow, but can you control instinct? I came in less than two minutes.

W gently held me, put her nipple in my mouth, and slowly stroked my back, comforting me by saying that men usually finish quickly the first time and I shouldn't be discouraged.

About five minutes later (youth is great!), the feeling returned, and this time it was real.

Sucking on W's nipple, my penis thrusting in and out, my hands kneading her body, listening to her soft, almost weeping moans—that feeling almost drove this virgin crazy with pleasure. At that moment, I felt it would be worth dying on this woman's belly!!

The third time, W was on top, spreading my legs, and after inserting my penis, she moved on her own. After a dozen or so thrusts, she started panting and moaning; after thirty or so, she was crying softly, finally collapsing onto me.

I wasn't done yet, how could I?

I got out of bed, W sat on the edge, and I spread her legs wide, thrusting in and out wildly. Watching W's eyes nearly roll back, listening to her moans and gasps, a mixture of pleasure and pain, her full breasts, slightly red from my forceful kneading, trembled with each thrust.

My eyes were red (W said later), I roared, only knowing to keep thrusting, thrusting and thrusting.

I don't know how long it was before I finally poured my almost frenzied passion into W again… After so many times, I only know that I went into the room around 11 pm, and it was past 3 am when W

and I finally fell asleep in each other's arms. And so began my thirteen-year-long (and still going strong) relationship of mutual torment, hurt, and mutual dependence.

W is my first woman, and always will be. I don't care that she's ten years older than me, and I don't care what others say about her being an old woman.

Because she not only gave me her body completely, but also her heart without reservation... Fate is cruel...

[The End]

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The elegant female teacher in the neighborhood

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