First meeting with a female teacher I met online

Five years ago, I disdained the internet, preferring to use the computer to write and play games. My wife often chatted online until the wee hours, and I got angry with her a few times, mainly because she wouldn't come to bed with me when I made requests. So she lured me online. I didn't know how, so she enthusiastically taught me step by step. I fell for it, and soon I became addicted. I no longer had the right to stop her from staying up late; we could only exchange knowing smiles.

At first, I only chatted on 263 Chat Platform. My wife coaxed me, saying that it was the only place to chat, and QQ was no longer free; you had to pay to register a QQ account. Her QQ account was a gift from a colleague, and she didn't have another one. My first online friend

was named AA, and later I named her "Wo Hou" (我后). My online name was "Lan Gan Pai Bian" (阑干拍遍), taken from Xin Qiji's poem "Shui Long Yin Deng Jiankang Shangxin Ting" (水龙吟登建康赏心亭): "The clear autumn sky stretches for a thousand miles in Chu, the water flows with the sky, autumn is boundless, distant peaks are visible, offering sorrow and resentment, like jade hairpins and snail-shell hairpins." At sunset, atop the tower, amidst the cries of departing geese, a traveler from Jiangnan stands. He examines his Wu hook sword, pats the railing repeatedly, yet no one understands his feelings upon this ascent. Let's not speak of the deliciousness of the perch. The west wind blows, but Ji Ying has not yet returned. Seeking land and inquiring about houses, he fears he should be ashamed to face Liu Lang's talent. Alas, the fleeting years, the sorrowful winds and rains, even the trees are thus. Who can he ask to summon the graceful green sleeves to wipe away the hero's tears?

That day, she clicked on my message first. Before that, I had no online friends; I was her first online friend. My wife was beside me then, instructing me on how to chat online, the techniques and precautions, and so on. Her first greeting left a deep impression on me; she said, "Hello, does anyone understand my feelings upon

this ascent?" I was delighted, feeling this person was good, knowledgeable in poetry, at least having read Xin Qiji's "Water Dragon Chant." Could she be a talented woman or a confidante? When first online, one's fantasies are often incredibly beautiful and intense.

I immediately replied, "We haven't met yet. But it's good that you're here..."

After only a few sentences, she pointed out several typos in my text. I asked, "Are you a teacher or an editor?"

She laughed and said, "You're so smart." It turned out she really was a Chinese language teacher, having come to Beijing two years after graduation to teach at a private middle school. We chatted for a month, only discussing literature, work, and family. We both felt it went well, so we exchanged phone numbers. At this point, I was starting to succumb to my lustful instincts. Taking advantage of her being a teacher and her tendency to be a know-it-all, I began to subtly flirt with her. For example, I wanted to ask her if she was online at night, so I deliberately texted, "Are you having sex tonight?" Whether she genuinely fell for it or was feigning ignorance, she texted back to correct me: "You can't write 'having sex' as 'going online,' the meanings are completely different, it's easy to misunderstand."

I texted back, "Sorry, I was wrong. But I want to have sex tonight... Come keep me company!"

After several rounds of subtle maneuvering, she half-heartedly agreed, and before we knew it, we were discussing sexual topics.

Once this door was opened, she became even more erotic than I was when it came to sex. Every morning I'd receive a text from her: "Did you have sex with your wife last night? What positions did you use?"

She's a 28-year-old woman who's never been married but has sexual experience. Her boyfriend is from Hubei province, and whenever he comes to Beijing, he stays in her school dormitory. They have very passionate sex. Unfortunately, her boyfriend recently contracted hepatitis B, so she's hesitant about sex, but she still longs for unbridled indulgence. This forces me to sneak into the study every morning to check her texts, afraid to turn on my phone in front of my wife.

I reply, "What's your favorite position for sex?"

She answers, "I like it when my boyfriend holds my butt and thrusts into me hard from behind..."

I say, "I also like it from behind..."

This kind of sexually suggestive texting isn't a problem for me, but it's a real pain for my wife. Because I can't repeat myself, it fuels my competitive spirit, and every night I have to have a passionate encounter with her. It's so torturous that she has to walk with her legs spread wide at home, and she's afraid to sit in her office chair—it hurts!

One morning, I was at work when I suddenly received a text message that I couldn't repeat. It said it was a day off, and she was on duty in the school office with nothing to do, so she was feeling lonely and missed me. On a whim, I immediately texted back, "Haha, I'll come keep you company!"

We'd meet at the Beijing Railway Station ticket gate. Since we'd never seen each other's photos before, she told me she'd be carrying two magazines from their publication. I said I wouldn't be carrying anything, and that she could call my cell phone and I'd know it was me when I pulled it out. She said I couldn't answer her calls. I asked why. She replied, "My cell phone number is from Hubei, and it incurs long-distance and roaming charges in Beijing." Thinking back, it made sense; she'd never called me from her cell phone before, only from the school office phone or texted.

I stood at the ticket gate, looking around for a long time but didn't see a girl with magazines. I silently warned myself: don't just stare at pretty girls' faces; maybe she's hiding the magazines in her bag and watching me from a distance.

After waiting a long time, I started to get impatient. Why do women, so radiant and beautiful, seem so inherently inferior when it comes to punctuality and trustworthiness?

It was July, and as the saying goes, July is scorching hot. Sweat streamed into my eyes, yet I still had to look around. Anyone who didn't know better would think I was a lost soul at the train station, weeping over not being able to find my family. My first meeting with a female online friend, and I was already being tormented by this heat—it was all my own fault!

Finally, my phone rang. I eagerly pulled it out and habitually pressed the answer button. Before I could even finish saying "Hello," I was interrupted by seven words: "Ugh, who told you to answer?!"

Then came the dial tone. I was so annoyed by the insult that I stared at my phone, but what could I do? I'd wasted the girl's phone credit, so I just had to accept my bad luck. Just as I was getting annoyed, a girl's voice called out to me: "Hi—"

I looked down, and oh, a petite girl was standing in front of me. To be honest, her unique appearance didn't give me a good first impression. When I look at a beautiful woman, I don't usually look at her figure, face, or skin first; I look at her mouth. If her mouth is so open that I feel I could kiss her, then I'll accept it. Otherwise, even if she has a perfect figure and a beautiful face, it's all in vain. Her mouth gave me the feeling that it wasn't suitable for kissing.

But I have one advantage: I'm very patient, especially tolerant of unattractive women, and I always smile no matter how difficult things get.

She handed me the magazine, saying, "I brought it especially for you." It felt like she was trying to cover up her lack of manners when meeting men.

I smiled and replied, "Seeing you is my happiness, and you even gave me a gift! You're so kind!" Then we started walking down the street. Where to go? Aimlessly. She suggested going to McDonald's. I thought to myself, McDonald's doesn't have beer, what's the point? But I still followed her into McDonald's. To my relief, it was packed, and there was no sign of finding a seat. I smiled and said, "How about I treat you to some shumai from Du Yi Chu?"

"A time-honored brand. The first time I came to Beijing, I ate at Du Yichu, a very famous old brand in Beijing. I heard that the plaque is the handwriting of Emperor Qianlong." She made a helpless expression: "I have no choice but to go with you."

The meal at Du Yichu cost 138 yuan. After leaving Du Yichu, we stood on Qianmen Street, just past 2 pm. What to do with the rest of the time?

Unfortunately, I really had no experience at the time. I took her hand and walked towards Tiananmen Square like a middle school student.

She followed me with a confused look, dawdling along. After we got to Tiananmen Square, I stood there dumbfounded for a long time before she realized how old-fashioned I was and reminded me: "What are we doing here?" A hint of complaint flew out of her big eyes, but she was still mostly innocent and naive. "My skin is afraid of the sun..." she added.

If it were today, I would definitely hug her gently and say: "What should we do? There isn't even a quiet place." "How about we go to a hotel, rest for a while, and have a good talk..." Maybe she'll be a little shy and coy, then take my arm and walk into the hotel.

It's annoying that I didn't say that back then; I didn't know how. I've only been online for a few months, and in my mind, people with Beijing residency and ID cards weren't allowed to stay in hotels and guesthouses in Beijing. How outdated I was! Does anyone know when Beijing hotels and guesthouses stopped allowing locals to stay? Was it the 1980s? The 1970s?

This is what I replied to her: "How about I take you into the Forbidden City to cool off?"

She scoffed, "Heh heh, you're the emperor, going into the Forbidden City is like going home, but I'm not an empress yet!"

I was speechless for a moment, thinking: Take you home? My wife would eat me alive! Then, I suddenly became presumptuous and worried she'd cling to me. I quickly said, "How about we take a walk? I especially love watching people fly kites in the square." She smiled and said, "Okay."

Seeing her happily agree, I led the way, looking up at the sky, searching for kites. I glanced at her occasionally and noticed she had her entire face covered with her bag, afraid of the sun, and wasn't even looking at the kites. This reminded me of a line from a dirty joke: "Second sister is afraid of the sun, so she covers her face with her hands." The word "sun" is an insult in the Guizhou area, equivalent to "kao" in Henan dialect. Being a chivalrous man, I quickly leaned close to her ear, wanting to say something caring, but I noticed her earlobes were white, almost translucent, with a faint blush; then I noticed her neck was also white, and her face was very delicate… Suddenly, I panicked and blurted out something that almost made her furious: "Are you really afraid of the sun?"

"Ugh!…" she snapped, throwing her purse away. Did she know what "sun" meant? Oh dear, a big editor like her, what dialect wouldn't she know! I hated my mouth. But in that instant when she threw away her purse, I saw her eyes, and in those eyes, anger mixed with a lot of shyness.

I quickly apologized and dragged her to the mall.

Why did I suddenly decide to take her shopping? Maybe it's because I've heard too many stories about women loving to shop. In hindsight, I realized my actions were intentionally meant to please her. It's all my fault for looking at her ears and neck!

I'm a man who's been in relationships and married before, and I thought I knew the cost of accompanying a woman shopping—roughly three things: physical strength, endurance, and financial resources. However, this online friend wasn't a lover or a wife; she was a woman from another world. So, this experience became a lesson… While strolling through the mall, faced with goods that so tantalized human desire for pleasure, even her favorite clothing, her eyes didn't light up even a tenth of what a lover's or mistress's would. I said, "Let me buy you something to commemorate our first meeting."

She said, "Save your money, don't treat me like an escort."

I didn't catch her unspoken meaning. Surprisingly, I was quite touched, and my affection for her increased. And I even thought that although her lips didn't look very inviting that morning, they now seemed quite kissable. We continued strolling, but my hand was on her shoulder. Seemingly unintentionally, I led her to a quiet corner, a secluded spot. We faced each other, our eyes meeting. I lowered my head and said, "Can I kiss you?"

She turned her face away, seemingly shy, and said, "No..."

Based on experience, women often say the opposite of what they mean at this point. I turned her face back to me with both hands and forcefully kissed her lips. She struggled, her tongue refusing to cooperate with mine, still stubbornly saying, "No, no..." What a spoilsport! Fine, if you don't want to, then don't. I let her go. She turned and squeezed into a crowded area. I caught up with her, and she said to me, "You have no gentlemanly manners!" What are gentlemanly manners?

I had a relationship once in high school, my first love. We dated for five years, and I treated her like a saint, never touching her, afraid of defiling my goddess. In the end, she dumped me. The reason for the breakup was that she said I didn't love her, and the evidence was that I hadn't kissed her even once in five years. Haha!

The rest of the time, naturally, we went to a hotel. Once inside, she had me lie down and gently massaged me. My hands massaged her body as we chatted. Her body was soft, and the feel was incredibly comfortable!

Overwhelmed with excitement, I flipped her over and pinned her beneath me, stripping her like a little lamb in a flash. I, the wolf, quickly disarmed myself, grabbing a pistol and two grenades, and pounced on my lamb.

She looked thin, but surprisingly, she was quite plump. Holding her felt incredibly good; her two large, firm breasts were absolutely bouncy. How to put it: bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bounce away your clutches! You can bouncy them as long as you want, I can bouncy them as long as I want! I couldn't resist touching her. My mouth unconsciously took her swollen pink nipple into my mouth

, and I murmured, "Mmm: I shouldn't have let you kiss me, but I can't help it, you're just my type. Come on, love me!" I kissed her cherry-like lips, and her tongue quickly darted into my mouth, swirling and swirling around mine. I loved this passionate kiss, the wonderful feeling of our tongues entwined, sometimes even more pleasurable than grass. She was clearly aroused; her juices flowed like a torrent, soaking me completely. She was panting heavily, reaching out to grasp my excited little brother, stroking it incessantly. My little brother, bulging with veins and hard as an iron rod, was suddenly pulled down by the girl, who took my large penis into her mouth and began licking it. A wave of pleasure instantly washed over her, her whole body tingling. Her little tongue danced around the glans, caressing the urethral opening. Damn, this was so fucking amazing! I couldn't take it anymore, or I'd ejaculate.

I rolled her onto the bed, pinning her beneath me. I pressed my penis against her tender vulva, rubbing it against her clitoris. She gasped, "No…no…use…a…condom…condom!" I'd already checked; she was definitely healthy. For the sake of complete pleasure, condoms didn't matter. I was going all in, I'd fuck her first! So I kissed her little mouth again, entwining my tongue with hers to keep her from speaking. In less than a minute, she forgot about the condom and kept thrusting her hips upwards, trying to take my big cock in. She was so wet, making my thighs all wet. I pressed against her clitoris but wouldn't go in, and she moaned and gasped, grabbing my cock and trying to shove it into her pussy. I still couldn't get it in. She got impatient, kissing me frantically, thrusting her hips upwards even more violently, faster and faster, the wetness increasing. Suddenly she screamed, hugging me tightly with both hands, trembling and going limp. Ugh, this girl actually orgasmed, and I hadn't even gone in yet!

My back stung from her fingernails scratching it. You little brat, I'll teach you a lesson. I aimed at her wet, tender pussy and thrust hard, my cock entering a warm, moist paradise. It felt so good.

Meimei wouldn't have it. She'd just had an orgasm and was still a bit exhausted. She clung to me, refusing to let me move: "Brother, don't move, just a little while!" I was enjoying myself, and she wouldn't stop just because she said so? I remained unmoved and continued thrusting into her. Meimei was in a little pain, her brow furrowing: "You bad boy! I like you so much, and you still treat me like this! You don't even know how to be gentle!" Hearing this, even with my thick skin,

I couldn't bring myself to be unkind. I gently rotated my penis inside her. A few minutes later, her face flushed, and she started moaning again. She rolled over, pinning me beneath her. I was happy to enjoy it. She playfully sucked on my nipple, and her vagina slowly slid my penis inside. She moaned comfortably, her hips moving back and forth. I didn't feel much in this position, but the little slut was soon moaning and going wild, clearly about to reach her climax.

This won't do! I haven't even had my fill yet, and you've already climaxed several times! I grabbed her, turned her around, and took the initiative again, pinning her down. She looked at me angrily: "Hurry up...come on...hurry up...um...fuck me...fuck my little...bibi!" Damn, that tingling sensation was irresistible. I put her legs together, slightly opening a path, and my big cock slid in along that path. As soon as my cock went in, she cried out and hugged me, closing her eyes and becoming a cheerleader. This position was incredibly pleasurable! Her pussy was already tight, but now it was as tight as a virgin's. I held her beautiful buttocks, my cock thrusting in and out relentlessly, the sounds of slapping echoing everywhere. She didn't care; her juices flowed freely, soaking large patches of the sheets with each thrust. With each stroke, the pleasure increased, and in no time, my excitement reached its peak. My cock grew harder and harder, and after a few rapid thrusts, I gave one last powerful shot, ejaculating all my bullets. Looking at her, her eyes rolled back from the barrage of bullets; she had passed out from the ecstasy!

[The End]

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