Tomboy Teacher

Some women have a strong exterior, a tough style, and sharp eyes, thus earning them the title of "tomboy." Even if they possess beautiful faces and stunning figures, they can still make men hesitate. But the structure of their bodies dictates that women are essentially "submissive." When difficulties arise, weakness is their best tactic, and also the perfect opportunity to conquer them.

My female colleague, Lan, is a physical education teacher, so she always considers herself a tomboy. Actually, from her appearance, she used to be a cute girl, but as she's aged, those features have become more and more etched on her face. However, her figure is still alluring, especially her breasts, which are the perky type I like, quite similar to a married woman I once met, and her waist-to-hip ratio is practically perfect. Whenever she walks past me with small steps, I always steal glances at her swaying curves. Sometimes I even think that it would be great to do it from behind. But it's just a thought; her usual demeanor doesn't really arouse me. After all, that kind of thing requires romance, and a woman who's too tough just doesn't suit my taste.

Lan has a boyfriend who is quite tall, walks with a swaying gait, and has a rough, rugged appearance. Their homes aren't far apart. The height difference makes her appear petite

and delicate next to him. However, once you get to know them, you'll realize that the dynamics of the relationship are inversely proportional to their physical stature. Lan is the leader, issuing commands in everything, big or small, and her boyfriend doesn't seem to mind, which makes things easier for him.

This kind of couple is actually quite common; for a while, I inexplicably saw a series of similar pairings. What do girls around that age think?

I don't have much contact with Lan, even though we're colleagues. We don't seem to have much to talk about; our interactions are just necessary, nothing too deep. Lan has a strong personality and often considers herself a tomboy. She frequently offends people at school, managing a sports group, which gives her a superior feeling. Men don't seem particularly imposing in her presence. Sometimes I think it might be related to her boyfriend's doting on her. Sometimes, spoiling a woman too much isn't a good thing; a little discipline is necessary.

Days passed by, and we went about our little lives, never seeing each other again. Perhaps without an accident, our paths would never cross. But fate always throws in unexpected curveballs. And so, through what seemed like a trivial matter, I once again confirmed my belief that women are inherently vulnerable.

Lan's boyfriend had a minor accident—just a sprained leg, nothing serious, just a period of rest. During this time, he couldn't take Lan to work; instead, he needed her care. For the first few days, Lan was incredibly busy, her life and work clashing drastically. It was easy for anyone to see that Lan had aged considerably, with dark circles under her eyes. Given the possibility of her helping her boyfriend to the bathroom in the middle of the night, the difference in their physical appearance made caring for him much more difficult.

Lan's home was relatively close to mine, just across the street, but we rarely visited each other. I, for one, don't usually have much contact with women like her. After her boyfriend was injured, Lan had to take taxis or buses. The reason was simple: she couldn't drive. She had attended driving school, but her tomboyish personality gave her instructors a headache, and her "driving rage" allowed her to comfortably sit in the passenger seat, enjoying being picked up and dropped off. But when her boyfriend was injured, problems arose. Her accustomed comfort made it difficult for her to adjust to the struggles of grabbing taxis or squeezing onto buses.

This inconvenience caused problems at Lan's work. The head of teaching noticed several flaws in her recent teaching and had a heart-to-heart talk with her. Knowing that we lived close by, the head suggested I help with transportation. Being a superior, although reluctant, I readily agreed.

Gradually, our relationship grew closer, though we maintained our original relationship at school. We often chatted on the way, gossiping and sometimes making light of things. The pressure of work occasionally revealed a side of Lan that was previously unknown—a more feminine side. Especially during this time caring for her boyfriend, the physical and mental exhaustion made this tomboy more womanly. Women, after all, are women; there's no need to make themselves so tough.

Lan's boyfriend went home, partly to recuperate, and partly because his family had a project. Although reluctant, Lan agreed; the pressure of caring for him was overwhelming for this strong woman, and this was a chance for her to catch her breath and rest.

Lan is a woman who loves to eat, spending most of her income on various delicacies, especially sweets, which she consumes daily. At home, her boyfriend does the cooking, while she eats and provides feedback. A woman with a sweet tooth also experiences a sense of helplessness when faced with sexual temptation; there's a certain connection between the upper and lower parts, and cravings aren't just about eating what's on the plate.

Perhaps it was because she hadn't had a big meal in a long time, perhaps out of gratitude, or perhaps because she wanted to try my cooking, on a sunny weekend, Lan suddenly visited my little apartment. Curious, I invited her into the living room. After the usual pleasantries, I learned Lan's purpose. We were supposed to go out to eat, but I was cooking, and Lan wanted to try my braised pork ribs. And so, we ended up having a couple's "meal." During the meal, we talked about many topics we don't usually discuss. Perhaps the meat stimulated hormone secretion, or perhaps the not-so-pure red wine relaxed Lan's mind and body; a girlish blush and daydreaming appeared on Lan's face—unexpected, yet understandable. Since we were there, we made the best of it. Observing, or rather, appreciating, is one of my quirks, and with such a classic example before me, I decided to study it carefully.

After the meal, Lan and I sat on the sofa, chatting casually about this and that, but the topic eventually returned to reality. I then realized that Lan was very worried about her boyfriend's illness, fearing it would affect their future life. Comforting someone is my forte; I quoted various sources and analyzed the reasons. After a short while of rambling, Lan's emotions stabilized, and she was no longer so worried. She just leaned back on the sofa, her eyes somewhat vacant, lost in thought.

"Is everything really alright?" "It'll be fine. He'll rest for a while, and then recover scientifically; there won't be any impact." "That's good." "Yeah, you're overthinking it." "Waaah…" Lan actually started sobbing.

I offered her a tissue, but Lan didn't take it. She continued to lean against the sofa, her body trembling rhythmically. I sat down next to her, watching her closely.

Lan's body no longer possessed its usual domineering strength; fragility was the defining characteristic at this moment.

"If you want to cry, just cry it out. It'll make you feel better." "Yeah. I've had it so tough." Lan began to complain.

"School's so busy, and you still have to take care of him." "Indeed, this period has been really difficult for you." "I'm just a girl, and it's been so hard for me." You still know you're a woman, yet you usually act so tough, rarely giving your colleagues any face, but when trouble comes, you start acting like a coward. You're really good at pretending. But then again, women are born pretending; how can you be a woman if you don't?

Suddenly, I wanted to hug Lan. Perhaps it's an innate liking to help the weak, even if it's only temporarily weak; perhaps it's that glimpse of white on her neck tempting the evil that had just been replenished with enough energy. I

gently placed my left hand on Lan's right shoulder, and with my right hand, I gently wiped away the tears from her eyes with my fingertips.

"It'll all be alright in the past, everything will return to how it was at the beginning." "Mmm." I gently stroked Lan's face, inhaling her fragrance. Lan didn't look at me; her small hands were just unconsciously striking various poses. I tried to pull my hand away, but Lan suddenly gave me a resentful look. I understood her thoughts, and my hand left the traces of tears, moving to her slender waist and her no longer rosy face.

Sometime later, we started looking at each other, just a simple gaze, nothing more. But an ambiguous atmosphere gradually rose, the temperature increasing with time.

Later I learned that Lan's boyfriend continued his rough-around-the-edges style in those matters, direct and lacking romance. Although Lan was very dissatisfied and longed for the romance of Korean dramas, she couldn't easily let go of her pride in front of her boyfriend. Thus, they maintained an unharmonious sex life. This feeling was helpless, and even more tragic.

Slowly, I slowly moved closer to Lan, my noticeable trembling causing her lips to open and close, as if calling for the early arrival of sin.

And just like that, the distance closed by millimeters. At that moment, Lan Deng's eyes widened, she glared at me fiercely, suddenly wrapped her arms around my neck, and bit me hard with her little mouth.

"So sweet," was my first impression, accompanied by an excited tremor. It seemed Lan's kissing skills weren't particularly advanced. Come to think of it, her boyfriend probably wouldn't attempt such a difficult romantic move as a French deep throat kiss.

She kissed me, mechanically gripping my head. I wasn't going to be like that idiot, rushing straight to the point; enjoying life was my priority.

I stroked Lan's shoulders, repeatedly running my fingers across her back, until the quantitative change led to the qualitative one. Lan completely softened, leaning weakly against me. I decided to "eat" her; I think she was hoping for a storm of passion.

But I didn't want to rush things. Controlling the pace and temperature was better for my health and would make the game more interesting.

Leaving Lan's lips, she exhaled deeply, followed by a soft moan.

I moved my hand down her face to her neck; she smelled so good.

I personally love a woman's natural scent; it's one of the top three basic requirements when choosing a woman. Lan's scent was faint, like an intermittent fragrance, yet utterly intoxicating.

When I kissed Lan's neck, her reaction was intense; perhaps this was her G-spot. I used a little more force, kissing her and nuzzling her nose. Lan no longer held my head, but instead clung tightly to my shoulders, as if afraid I would suddenly leave her.

My hands stopped their seductive harassment and gently pulled up Lan's shirt, touching her back, which I had once fantasized about. The bra straps didn't feel particularly strong, but I wasn't in a hurry. Impatience would only ruin everything. Women need to be loved, and only a man who understands women can make them willingly shed the mask they wear all day and plunge into the vortex of desire, never to rise again.

Lan was dressed in sportswear that day. This woman usually pays close attention to exercise; fitness is her hobby, both for maintaining a good body and as a material prerequisite for her strong, independent image. Lan's bra was black with lace trim. With my persistent caresses, the straps loosened, and the buttons fell off, but I still steadfastly covered her dignity.

I ran my fingers across her back forcefully, and Lan let out a slightly loud "Ah." As if understanding my meaning, she slightly closed her shoulders to make it easier for me to finish with the last nail.

With the shoulder strap falling down, Lan seemed to release something and began to retaliate, licking me with her little tongue. Although her technique was practically nonexistent, the sensation of desire made every pore open in blissful pleasure.

A whiff of musky scent wafted from the air vents, reminding me to change my focus. It was time to savor those perky breasts.

Lan's breasts were naturally perky, with a distinct curve. She walked with her chest out and head held high, displaying her beauty, attracting the attention and comments of male teachers at school. I had once had a woman like that, though only with her, but the conclusion was that this type of woman was romantic, imaginative, and especially sexually aroused.

Was Lan the same kind of woman, or an exception?

I didn't think too much about it; confidence led me to charge towards the climax.

Using both hands and mouth, I attacked Lan's mouth, enjoying a better reward while avoiding unnecessary subconscious resistance.

During this process, I didn't remove her clothes. Women, sometimes, need to save face; being too hasty can backfire. This kind of lesson constantly reminded me of my own past experiences. It

was really perky; although I couldn't see the shape, the feel confirmed it was exactly as I'd imagined.

First the outside, then the inside, sometimes touching, sometimes rubbing, sometimes grasping, sometimes pressing, sometimes squeezing, sometimes moving closer, sometimes further away. Before long, Lan seemed to lose interest, no longer accepting my kisses, instead offering her face to me, her mouth instinctively biting my fingers, her legs spreading to allow me to press her down more easily.

I needed to heat things up; one hand wasn't enough. I raised both hands, changing from kneading to grasping, gradually increasing the pressure.

Lan's alluring moans grew louder.

"Ahhh!" Her breathing quickened, her long legs opening and closing, the scent of her juices in the air growing stronger.

It was time to take off her top. With a forceful lift, she tossed her black bra to one side of the sofa.

Squeezing her breasts together, I began to suckle vigorously.

Tender, fragrant—that was the feeling. Kissing, biting, kneading, pulling—all the techniques were employed. Lan's moans grew louder, her thighs pounding against me, seemingly urging me to speed up.

I changed positions, holding Lan on my lap. This position was a powerful tool for petite women—convenient, with multiple points of attack, and most importantly, conserving energy and avoiding unnecessary premature exhaustion.

Lan wanted to get closer to me, to take off my clothes. I neither stopped nor helped, letting her complete the process herself. The act of undressing revealed Lan's strength, power, speed, and decisiveness.

Lan, a very interesting woman, still fantasized about being a tough woman at this moment. However, she wouldn't have the chance.

I slightly parted Lan's legs, my fingers sensing the source of her scent.

She was already aroused; the temperature and moisture told me it was time for the final assault.

But that wasn't enough. To completely destroy her mask, I needed to wait.

It was almost summer, and Lan was only wearing a pair of sweatpants to cover her last sanctuary.

I lightly traced my fingers along her vulva, the path monotonous up and down, but the effect was surprisingly good.

Lan started licking her lips, and when I pulled away, she grabbed my head with her hands, like someone who had been thirsty and needed constant hydration.

The scent intensified, and Lan stopped kissing me, instead gripping my shoulders tightly, her legs clamping my fingers, trying to prevent the temperature from rising further.

Next to the sofa was a bed, usually used for afternoon naps. Most importantly, being close to the sofa minimized heat loss during the journey from the sofa to the bed.

After a moment's thought, I decided that swiftness was the best way to attack.

Without warning, I picked Lan up and slammed her onto the bed, giving her no time to think. At that moment, her mind was blank; physiological characteristics forced even a strong woman to submit to the laws of nature.

I quickly removed our excess clothing, pinned Lan's hands down, aimed slightly at her vulva, and thrust in. A wave of pleasure washed over me.

"Ah!" Lan and I both let out a pleasurable moan.

Lan's vagina was very tight; the reason was unknown—perhaps it was due to infrequent sex, or perhaps her boyfriend's penis was ineffective—but it didn't matter. Pleasure was the only goal at that moment.

"Ahhh…" Lan shook her head under the thrusts, trying to break free from my grasp, her legs tightly wrapped around my waist, moving back and forth in perfect rhythm. It felt so good. To be fair, as a simple woman, Lan was quite alluring; it was just her usual behavior that kept me at a distance.

But during sex, I really enjoyed this woman, even if it was just pure lust.

I changed positions, placing Lan's legs on my shoulders to enhance her pleasure, and this position also prevented me from ejaculating too quickly. I couldn't pin her hands down anymore, so I grabbed her breasts instead. Her breasts, unclothed, were so beautiful; her nipples, already turning black, stood erect, her pert breasts still striving to maintain their pride.

"Ahhh," Lan continued to moan, her head straining to see what was making her feel so good, but the rapid thrusting made it difficult for her to achieve her goal.

"Slower, gentler, ahhh, slower, I can't take it anymore," Lan reacted strongly, no longer looking at me, only gripping my forearms tightly with both hands, her eyes closed, her hair disheveled.

I felt it again, and at the same time, I didn't want to end this pleasure in one position.

The moment I pulled out, Lan paused.

"Why did you come out?" I didn't answer her, turning her around and beginning my preferred rear entry.

Another moan came, and Lan gripped the sheets tightly, her strong buttocks sweating slightly from the impact.

I really wanted to end it in this favorite position; doggy style has always been my favorite, the feeling of contact with her buttocks is what fascinates me most.

I needed to add some spice. Feeling the heat of her paradise, I started spanking Lan's buttocks.

Due to long-term training, Lan's buttocks were firm and quite elastic, exactly my type. Partly, this was my preference, and partly, it would get this tough girl to give in sooner and become my submissive.

Unsurprisingly, Lan's reaction intensified, her moans growing louder.

After a while, she felt something and tried to grab my waist, but failed; she was getting impatient.

"Faster, faster!" I increased my speed and pressure. It seemed this woman really enjoyed spanking; her SM potential was clearly visible.

However, I couldn't end it in this position. The problem with back-entry is that the two can't look directly at each other. If it's a familiar partner, it's fine, but if it's the first time, it gives the woman an excuse to escape the man's clutches, at least she can convince herself mentally.

Facing each other directly allows them to confront the reality of what's happening. I forcefully pulled away from Lan's body.

Lan turned her head and asked, "What's wrong?" "Turn around." I looked into her eyes and whispered.

"Okay." The moment Lan turned around, I went straight for her already overflowing honey hole, launching my final assault.

Lan squeezed my waist tightly, her hands holding me tightly, anticipating that moment.

After what seemed like an eternity, the heat finally rushed to the deepest part of her paradise. "Ah!!!" Lan and I squeezed together tightly, twisting and turning, enjoying this blissful moment to the fullest.

[The End]

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