One-on-one tutoring by English teacher

At 7:30 that night, I arrived at her building. A strange feeling lingered in my heart, a mix of joy and trepidation I couldn't quite place. Looking back, it evoked a sense of desolation, a feeling of parting from a hero, never to return.

Her parents had gone to stay with her brother and sister-in-law in Shenzhen, leaving her alone in the city. Without a hint of unease, she greeted me politely, followed by the usual tutoring session. While explaining listening techniques, she bent low, her mature womanly fragrance wafting into my nostrils—a blend of shampoo and body odor, intoxicating. Although my ears were focused on the deep words and sentences uttered by her baritone voice, my eyes, driven by an irresistible voyeuristic urge, strayed to the side.

Beyond that blue ocean, I saw snow-white peaks, and the ravines between them. Any man who appreciates gentleness would likely want to be intoxicated by those deep, secluded valleys. A surge of heat rushed to my lower body, a feeling as intense as the torch of the Statue of Liberty held high. I shifted my body and said, "Teacher, I need to use the restroom." She blushed slightly, then pointed to the outer room and said, "It's on the left side of the living room, go ahead." I awkwardly crawled into the bathroom, unzipped my pants, and my little brother, just like Zheng Jun sang, was bursting forth. Here I need to explain the anatomy of the human body. When a man is erect, he generally cannot urinate because there's a small, fleshy cap at the junction of the vas deferens and urethra. When the corpora cavernosa swells to a certain extent, that cap automatically seals the ureter to prevent urine from flowing back into the vas deferens and causing infection. So, if I didn't make my penis soften, I couldn't urinate.

I almost couldn't help but whistle, but I held back for fear the teacher would laugh her out. So I used my old method, looking around to distract myself, and then I saw the showerhead. Suddenly, I remembered what I wrote in my diary about having the urge to masturbate while she was showering. My God, is this some kind of death wish? My little brother, who had initially shown signs of giving in, was now full of fighting spirit again, blooming, blooming... This can't be rushed, the more you rush it, the harder it gets. But my mind was filled with fantasies, how could I stay calm? Suddenly, a thought surged into my mind: let it be strong, the bright moon shines on the hillside. I started rubbing my little brother quickly, wouldn't it solve the problem if I just let it out? Teacher, I'm sorry, it's all your fault, you didn't masturbate here, but I came first. Fantasy is another realm of sex, and the hand is just a substitute for a woman's caress. With a tingling sensation, I felt a full several cc of hot liquid spurt out.

I shuddered a few times, and I felt like I was back in the human world. I opened my eyes and almost scared me to death. Who hung a pair of underwear next to the sink? It was a woman's, after all. Who else could it be? Oh my god, what can I say? It's like pressing down a gourd and another one pops up. All my life essence was shot onto that white underwear with lace trim.

It's like mud smeared in my crotch, even if it's not shit, it's still shit. If the teacher sees this, what will she say? She'll probably kick me out like a pervert! I'm innocent! I'm not a fetishist!

Actually, if I hadn't panicked, I could have just washed my face with cold water and fixed it. Now I've made such a mess. Oh well, I'll wash it now, just to avoid it getting soaked. Hopefully, the teacher isn't wearing it today, otherwise, without a dryer, it won't dry quickly.

(Friends, most beautiful women are very clean; they definitely change their underwear every day. Please remember, one wrong step can lead to eternal regret!) Luckily, there was laundry detergent nearby. I scrubbed the teacher's underwear, and I felt incredibly nauseous. (Note: When washing women's underwear, try to use a detergent with a moderate pH value. Avoid using strong alkaline detergents like soap and laundry powder, as women's skin is delicate and sensitive, and it can cause discomfort. Haven't you ever experienced a burning sensation in your penis from underwear washed with soap?) I don't know how much time passed before I hung it up again. To be on the safe side, I even smelled it, but I swear on my integrity, that was to check if there was any residual semen smell. Before flushing,

the teacher saw me come out and said with a smile, "You fell asleep on the toilet? You were gone for so long." I half-jokingly replied, "Well, your toilet is so comfortable that I accidentally fell asleep." She chuckled, her body swaying, truly radiant under the light, a captivating beauty.

As classes resumed, we couldn't help but rekindle the close teacher-student relationship we had back then, no longer feeling restrained.

During the review period leading up to the exams, my mother, wanting to nourish my body, kept preparing a variety of delicious meals to reward me. One day it was chicken soup, the next day pork ribs, and later, worried that I was working too hard staying up late, she even bought a bunch of turtles to make soup. I drank so much that my nose bled; I'd never been so well-nourished in my life. Plus, I was practicing kidney-tonifying exercises every night, so my lower back and abdomen were incredibly strong.

Lately, Teacher Zhao seemed off, her expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. Could it be that the diary incident was bothering

her? If she just said a word, I would simply return it to her as if nothing had happened. (Later I learned that she had been deeply hurt by a man, a man younger than her, a man who had deceived her.) Four days before the exams, I should have relaxed, but I found that the more I read, the more uncertain I felt, so I studied like crazy every night. That evening, during dinner, Dad took out a bottle of wine and said, "Son, have a drink today, then go out and have some fun tomorrow. I think you're being too stressed." My mom, standing beside me, scoffed, "Your wine? Can he even handle it? You'll only corrupt the child." I noticed he'd been looking weak lately, even getting nosebleeds; a drink wouldn't hurt. Dad seemed utterly confident. (My goodness, Dad, you've really put your son through this! Are yin deficiency and yang excess the same thing? Does a nosebleed mean weakness?) "I'm not drinking. I have class later. My breath will reek of alcohol, and the teacher will laugh at me." I have no interest in alcohol.

"Hey, you little rascal, you don't know what's good for you. Here, pour me some. Dad drinks alone every day, it's so boring. Have a drink with me, it'll be fine." With that, Dad filled the bottle. (Oh my god, if I had known it was tiger penis and deer tail wine, I would never have drunk it!) After dinner, I set off for my tutoring session, like Wu Song climbing Jingyang Ridge, only this time I carried a staff made of flesh and blood.

Downstairs, I bought a large piece of bubble gum from the convenience store (back then, we didn't have Wrigley's or xylitol, so bubble gum was a substitute for chewing gum); I couldn't go upstairs reeking of alcohol.

Entering the room, I noticed the teacher's face was also off. Why are the flowers so red? "As beautiful as peach blossoms"—that's the most fitting phrase, even though I've already used it before. Hmm? What's that smell? It smells like incense? (It turns out it's Indian incense her friend brought back from England, supposedly with aphrodisiac properties, but she didn't know that at the time; it was just for setting the mood.) There were two wine glasses on the table, with some wine left in them. The color of this wine is so strange. Humph, my dad's lousy wine is nowhere near as good as this. (It turned out to be absinthe brought back from England, supposedly an aphrodisiac. Damn, what kind of friend is this? Isn't he pushing me into a fire?) I saw someone and turned to leave, saying, "You have a guest? I'll head back today." "No, he's already gone." The teacher seemed both helpless and lost when she said this, but her eyes were a little unfocused, whether from missing someone or the effects of the alcohol, I couldn't tell. (That person was that unfaithful man; she had wanted to drink with him, but he stood her up.) "I'm sorry, teacher, I also had a little to drink. My dad forced me to drink. I feel a bit dazed." "Me too. Sometimes a little helps with blood circulation." Her mind was still relatively clear.

"I'll go wash my face and be right back." I went to the bathroom. Since what happened last time, I'd held my pee whenever I came to her house and hadn't gone in again. The troublesome underwear was gone.

When I came out, I noticed she was looking at me with a strange gaze, as if she knew what had happened last time, but that teasing smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of self-reproach.

The listening comprehension exercise began, a familiar baritone voice uttering a string of words. I was a bit distracted today, only catching a few "dream, dream, dream." Could it be related to the dream? But the teacher didn't react, unlike usual when she reminded me to pay attention to key words.

Just then, a strange sound came from someone's TV downstairs, like a painful groan, a woman's, like the sound of someone being touched by a red-hot iron rod. A jolt went through me, and I understood. It was porn. Listening closely, I realized, damn, it was Japanese porn. "Hayaku, hayaku (hurry, hurry) keemukji, keemukji (comfortable, comfortable)," I thought. Although I hadn't deliberately studied Japanese, I knew the meaning of a few common phrases.

Just like Gong Hanlin said on the Spring Festival Gala, I'm eating imperial cuisine (listening to porn), drinking fine wine (drinking tiger penis and deer tail wine), it's incredibly nourishing. If last time my little brother was just a temporary uprising, then this time it's a complete national riot. My crotch feels like it's hiding a ball of fire, with a steel rod strapped to it.

And her? Did she hear me? I didn't dare look up, just glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and I still can't forget that expression, red as a ripe apple, a few beads of sweat hanging on her forehead under her hair, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if she was enduring great pain.

"This... that damned Wang San'er, always putting out filthy stuff in the middle of the night." She seemed to be gritting her teeth as she whispered, as if she didn't want me to hear. That expression would be unbearable even for a saint, let alone for me, who was being assaulted by multiple passions.

I'll be eighteen in the middle of next month, a grown man. And her? According to Guo Min's calculations, she's no more than twenty-three, since she and Guo Min's sister are classmates. Her sister is twenty-one, so even if she's two years older, she's only twenty-three, less than six years older than me. And Guo Min's mother is eight years older than his father. So, it wouldn't be unreasonable for me to be with her, but do I have any feelings for her? Am I just after her looks?

Stop! What am I thinking? She's a kind tutor who's helping me with my studies. Even if she might have some ulterior motives, I can't have such thoughts. So, hold on, hold on, hold on! Dude, you're a man, and men have to take responsibility. You've already been foolish with a woman; don't repeat the same mistake.

Excessive erection causes scrotal pain; I feel like my two "treasures" are being squeezed and throbbing. This has happened before when I read erotic novels in class, and it's actually better than the pain. I struggled to my feet and walked towards the door. Staying any longer would be a mistake, and I didn't dare look at her expression; I'd lose control.

She stood still. Just then, I heard a voice from downstairs, "Iku, Iku" (meaning "coming out" or "coming out" in Japanese). "You damn bastard, you son of a bitch, I'm coming out too, just the main gate. I'm a human, not a beast."

Halfway there, I felt the friction in my pants making my penis almost come to its limit. Good, I'll go to the bathroom first to let it out, so I won't hurt myself or others. I opened the bathroom door, quickly stepped inside, and locked it. I looked down and was utterly shocked by my own appearance. Even Genghis Khan's tent wasn't this big! She couldn't have missed it, could

she? Whatever, I'll get it over with first. In just three strokes, it gushed out like the Yellow River. This time I learned my lesson and tore off some toilet paper to cover it up, so it was clean and safe. But I forgot that under immense pleasure, people sometimes make strange noises. "Oh, oh," I couldn't help but sigh, as if I were finally releasing urine that I had been holding in for a long time. (I hadn't expected to find a mature woman, equally tormented by desire, standing outside the door.) A huge sigh echoed through the room.

What kind of wine was that? How could it be flaring up again so quickly? Thankfully, it wasn't as strong as the first time. I quickly left.

I flung open the door, and there she was! I averted my gaze, only hearing heavy breathing from across the room. She didn't move aside, and I finally focused my attention on her. Her fair face, flushed with surprise and shyness, held a burning desire in her eyes, as if struggling with reason. She seemed to want to say something, but couldn't. Suddenly, she turned and picked up two glasses of wine from the table, handing one to me.

She wanted to drink?

I knew what was going to happen, but for a better outcome, I took the wine and bent down to relight the red candle on the table. Clink, clink glasses, and I downed it in one gulp. With a bang, the fire within me reignited.

"Is there any music? I'd like to ask you to dance. I can't think of a better reason to approach you." "Hmm, wait a minute." She quickly found a classic blues track by Buddy Guy, "Sweet Tea" (expired). Later, I thought it should be translated as "Sweet Tea," right?

Accompanied by the deep music, we naturally embraced, gently moving to dance steps.

Her silky hair brushed against my face, carrying a lingering fragrance. A burning heat passed through our arms, and a surge of passion coursed through us. After a long while, I don't know if it was me or her, but we turned... My lips brushed against hers, our four burning lips meeting in a passionate kiss, our tongues darting and playing.

With each step, she led me to the bedroom. The room was a pale blue, like the sea, even the sheets and blankets were light blue. I gently pushed her down, then knelt beside her. Another intoxicating kiss. My left hand brushed aside the stray hairs on her forehead, the kisses spreading to her eyes, cheeks, earlobes, and neck.

It was summer, and we were both lightly dressed. But I didn't think she was in a hurry, so I first gently caressed her breasts through her sheer dress.

"Could you unzip the back of my dress?" Her blushing face was like my sun, illuminating my heart.

She slowly stood up, her hands parting her shoulders, her long dress slipping down her shapely figure. The sculpture of Venus seemed to appear before me. The goddess of beauty often arranged things according to the golden ratio, but I had never had the chance to see it before; only today did I finally get to taste it. Then, she reached behind her back and flicked her wrist, revealing two mischievous little peaches, both proudly pointing upwards.

She returned to my embrace, burying my head in her chest. I suckled at that soft warmth like a nursing child, teasing those angry grapes with my tongue. Mmm… a low moan escaped her nose. Gradually, I moved my lips down, gently kissing her lower abdomen, even licking her round, adorable navel. Retreating

from that final barrier, I continued the chase of my tongue on her skin, all the way to the tips of her toes. "

A fairy cave, naturally formed; boundless scenery lies at the perilous peak" (apologies for quoting Chairman Mao's poem, but these two lines are perfectly apt here). I reached the cave entrance, and seemed to hear the gurgling of water; in fact, it was the sound of her heartbeat coming from afar. After lingering for a while, I placed my moist tongue into the source of her sweet spring. There it was again—that intoxicating fragrance. A woman's scent reveals her character; she must be a good woman.

The soft stimulation made her begin to writhe, her breathing becoming more rapid, accompanied by soft moans. It seemed she needed me to fill her emptiness, to give her the release of that impact.

In Jun Watanabe's Paradise Lost, men and women die in a state of sublimation, but in reality, our rationality remains. I wonder if we are Adam and Eve created by God, or clay brought to life by the hands of Nuwa, now intoxicated in this dreamlike state—truly an arrangement of fate.

We hadn't turned on the lights when we entered the room; now, the bright moonlight shone through the thin curtains, enveloping us in this misty silver, and we merged together. Two burning flames finally met, igniting an even greater desire.

First, slow thrusts, and in this moment, I carefully examined her features. Beneath her slightly furrowed brows were clear, tender eyes. Her bright nose opened and closed with each of my thrusts, and her cherry lips parted slightly, her white teeth biting her lower lip. I couldn't resist kissing her again; her sweet tongue was still lingering, giving me a cloying taste.

"You're pressing down on my arm." So that's why she was frowning.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" I quickly released her arm.

"It's okay, hmph, I didn't expect a teenager like you to be so experienced." She scolded me playfully, making me feel intoxicated.

"Then I'll let you go now." I teased her.

"You... dare. See how I deal with you." She suddenly bit my shoulder lightly.

"Ah," I winced, deciding to retaliate, increasing the speed of my thrusts. She slowly closed her eyes, her breath sweet as orchids.

"What should I call you? There should be some form of address." I thought calling her "teacher" now would seem a bit obscene.

"Call me Xiaoyue, that's my original name," she whispered in my ear.

"Hmm, it sounds nice, it suits this situation perfectly," I said with a mischievous grin.

"Ugh, stop talking. Can't you see I'm upset?" Her innocent expression was a huge provocation to me.

"Xiaoyue, let's change positions. This is making you uncomfortable." I suggested timidly.

"Hmm, what do you want to do?" She didn't understand either.

I rolled over and let her lie on her side facing the moonlight outside the window, then I lay on my side behind her and gently entered her.

Chapter Seven: Karmic Debt 2.

Even gentle movements can stir emotions, and the intimate position makes it easier to caress gently. I bit her earlobe, my fingers teasing her breasts, colliding with the rhythm of her breathing. To make her enjoy it more, I reached down and rubbed her lower abdomen, four fingers flat, thumb spread, rubbing her sensitive spots like plucking a pipa.

She passively received the favor, seemingly unable to satisfy herself. She began to sway her slender waist again, seeking more comfort.

"You... can't do this all night? You, can't you go back?" she asked with a hint of pleading.

"Definitely not. Do you want me to be rough with you?" I looked at the delicate woman in my arms.

"Beep, beep... Hello, is this Yaoyu's mother? This is Zhao Li. The teacher said there's an English seminar in the city tomorrow. I think he can go and listen to others' spoken English, and also relax a bit. If you agree, I can drive him to the school to stay later, so he doesn't have to rush there tomorrow. Do you agree?" She actually called my house at this time. Her voice was so calm. No wonder Yin Susu said that women are the best liars in the world.

"Then... could you let Yaoyu answer?" I could vaguely hear my mother's voice through the receiver.

Helpless, I took the receiver and said, "Hello, Mom... Ah, yes, yes, okay, I'll come home tomorrow afternoon." Hanging up, I bit her and said, "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Calling my mom at this hour, if she saw us like this, she'd faint from anger." She giggled, then suddenly blurted out, "That diary is with you, did you read it?" Although I was somewhat prepared, I was still taken aback. After a moment's thought, I asked, "Guess if I read it?" "You rascal, sigh... I knew you'd read it. No wonder you treated me like this; you probably see right through my secrets, my character." She seemed a little embarrassed and sad.

Character? What character? How could I discern her character from just one chapter? Did she misunderstand and think I was promiscuous and that's why I was frivolous with her? I'm not Yang Guo, and she's not Xiaolongnu. We're modern men and women; our past teacher-student relationship is history. Does a momentary lapse in judgment negate our integrity? I'm usually very kind.

I quickly comforted her, saying, "Xiaoyue, although what we did wasn't normal, it's not entirely wrong. You don't need to blame yourself. I'm a man, and you're a woman. I'm eighteen (actually, I'm still half a month shy of turning eight), which is considered an adult. Even in ancient times, that would be considered marriageable age. We can be responsible for ourselves." (Thinking back on those words today, I still feel at ease. I'm grateful for those years when I read many articles by ancient and modern writers, which taught me right and wrong. I know that people's actions are passive under the law and morality; the important thing is to know what you're doing and to take responsibility for your actions.) "Hmm." She seemed moved by my words, remaining silent for a long time, lost in thought.

"Holding you is so good. Thank you for giving me such a beautiful memory. For the first time, I felt a sense of security from a woman other than my mother." (My experience with Xiangyun only allowed me to experience the awkward emotions of youth, but as I've grown older, my understanding has deepened.) "I know about you and Xiangyun," she said softly, which surprised me.

"You... how could you?" I was almost speechless.

"Hmph, if you don't want people to know, don't do it in the first place. Do you think you're afraid people will find out what you've done?" She gave me that familiar teasing look again. No wonder she had that look the first time we met recently.

"You...how did you know?" We kept it a secret; even Guo Min didn't know. I felt guilty for keeping it from that guy. I knew about his affairs with other girls, but I kept it to myself. I truly felt guilty towards my old friend.

"Don't worry, besides me and her boyfriend, only you two know." She suddenly turned and gave me a strange look, then said, "Looks like you didn't finish reading the diary." "Ah, you knew all along." I was a little confused.

"Her dad and my dad are from the same hometown, our families are good friends. She and I have been close since childhood. I'm two years older than her." (So she's twenty-two, four years older than me.) She said, looking at me teasingly again.

Unconsciously, the part of me inside her had cooled down, because my attention was completely distracted by our conversation. Should I finish what I hadn't finished? Thinking about it, I started exercising again.

"Let me be on top, Lest, my sweetheart." She blurted out again, still calling me by that cheesy name.

"No, I think it's fine this way." I teased her on purpose.

"You little rascal, I should have made you copy words ten thousand times back then." (Once in class, I brought up the time she made me in sixth grade, and she said she had forgotten.) She suddenly turned around and pushed me down on my back, then flipped over and straddled me.

"I know you're pretty good in that area, but today you're so lukewarm, it's really disappointing, it's better to..." As she said this, her eyes dimmed for a moment, then turned into a kind of angry madness.

Burning heart with fire, let the fire burn me, burn my heart, sing the song of true love. People disregard their own safety, let their infatuation rush to the fire... I thought of this song, because waves of intense pleasure surged through my body like ripples. Holding her slender waist, letting her rise and fall, the atmosphere gradually became hazy, the words "breast waves and hip waves" may not sound very nice, but they are quite fitting.

Sometimes she would clasp my hands tightly, like a willow swaying in the wind; other times she would lean down and kiss me passionately, like a dragonfly skimming the water. Despite our unrestrained postures, we dared not utter a sound, lest we act like the disrespectful Wang San downstairs.

She was on top, my manhood deeply embedded, a scene of blissful harmony. But as time went on, I felt my desires were not fully satisfied. So I gestured for her to change positions, returning to the dominant role. At this point, we didn't want to say anything more; body language was more tangible. In the blink of an eye, the gentle breeze turned into a torrential downpour.

I bent her legs, curling them against my chest. I'd heard this method allowed for maximum penetration and stimulated the female partner's G-spot, bringing the ultimate in passion. (At the time, I didn't know all this; I just remembered that Xiangyun and I loved this position most.) Life is short, so seize the day! Today we've drunk our fill, and the joy must be exhausted—yes, to her, Xiaoyue. What can I offer you, my lover? Only myself.

The intense impact caused her to let out a soft moan, and my mind seemed to be slipping away from my body. Fueled by the lingering effects of the alcohol, I released all my energy. I felt her softness, and she felt my hardness. After this repeated merging and separation for a while, a flash of blue light appeared before our eyes, and the elixir of love was poured forth, like countless raindrops nourishing the world. Returning to silence, we drifted into a dreamlike state in the sky.

[The End]

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