My Ecstasy First Night with My Teacher

The story takes place in June 2012 when I took the high school entrance exam. At that time, the top students in our grade, led by the school leaders, went to the county town to take the unified entrance exam for teacher training and vocational schools. I should mention that in our impoverished mountain area, in those days, almost all high-achieving students took this exam because their families couldn't afford to send them to high school; university was a very distant prospect for us.

After several agonizing days, those applying for vocational schools left with mixed feelings of joy and regret. Eleven of us, including myself, stayed to take the teacher training school entrance exam three days later. Three teachers remained: a school leader, our graduating class's homeroom teacher, and a female music teacher. She stayed to tutor us in arts and physical education to prepare for the interview.

It's actually quite ridiculous. At that time, my school, in order to improve the college entrance exam pass rate, didn't hold classes for subjects like history, geography, and physiology, and didn't even provide textbooks, because these subjects weren't covered in the high school entrance exam. Only music was an exception, because it was somewhat relevant to the teacher training school entrance exam. So, surprisingly, there was a music course.

The tense atmosphere of the high school entrance exam was finally over. We breathed a sigh of relief, and everyone was happy. This happiness didn't mean we did anything fancy or sought thrills; it came from within, the burden of years of hard study finally lifted. So, the boys and girls went shopping together, no longer afraid of the rumors spreading everywhere.

For most of us, going to the county town at fourteen or fifteen was a first, so we were inevitably excited and marveled at the city's prosperity, although now it seems insignificant compared to what we saw then. We walked all afternoon, our legs were weak; walking on paved roads was much harder than walking on mountain paths.

After dinner, they went to see a movie with their teachers. I didn't go because I didn't have any money. I stayed in the hotel alone, took a hot shower, and then comfortably lay in bed watching TV. Actually, TV was also a novelty for me; we'd never had one at home.

While watching TV, I was doing something else: admiring my penis. I'd noticed that this little guy seemed to be getting longer over the past year or two. When it's soft, it doesn't change much, except the glans gradually protrudes. But in the morning and evening, it becomes long and hard, making me very uncomfortable.

I pull down my underwear to look at it, and it gets hard; I watch TV for a while and ignore it, and it goes soft—it's quite interesting. I have no idea what the point of it being so long is. I guess it grows as a man grows up, right?

A little while later, I heard someone knocking on the door. I wondered who it could be. I quickly put on my clothes, opened the door, and was quite surprised. It was my music teacher, standing in the doorway wearing a long pink dress (years later I learned it was called a nightgown), very charming.

Actually, my music teacher was petite, about 1.5 meters tall, but very beautiful. Her breasts and buttocks were always very prominent and eye-catching. She sang very well, her voice clear, melodious, and elegant. She could dance too. She danced at a school gala once, and one of her moves involved extending her leg into the air, revealing her jade-like legs beneath her skirt. I gasped when I saw it. Really! With such talent, she married a school director, which was quite enviable.

I asked her for music advice a few times, and she always had a faint, pleasant fragrance that none of the girls in my class had. Later I learned she used expensive perfume. Ah, there were so many things I didn't know back then.

Now, my teacher is standing right in front of me. I smell that familiar, faint fragrance again. Her snow-white shoulders are only covered by the two straps of her pink dress, which reveals half of her full breasts and a considerable portion of her calves. Looking at her faint smile, I felt awkward for a moment. I stammered, "Teacher, didn't you go to the movies?"

She smiled slightly, "Of course not. Come over here, I have something to tell you."

I closed the door and followed her. Her skirt swayed, quite alluring. For a moment, I felt a sinful impulse—if only I could lift her skirt… But I didn't dare. Soon we arrived at the teacher's room.

(Because she was the only female teacher, she had a single room).

Her room was quite luxurious, and I couldn't help but look around. She closed the door and asked me to sit down on the bed. I thought she would ask me to review the sheet music. We usually answered questions standing up, and I felt a little uncomfortable being asked to sit down.

I sat down nervously, and she gracefully sat opposite me, asking kindly how my recent exams went, which subjects I did well in, which questions I didn't do well on, and which schools I planned to apply to if my grades were good. She even asked about my future aspirations.

For the first time in my life, I felt the teacher was so close to me. Slowly, I opened up, and my words became more relaxed. Suddenly, the teacher asked me, "Lin, I heard you have a girlfriend at school, is that true?"

"Teacher, no, those are just rumors from my classmates."

To be honest, I didn't have a girlfriend. My parents repeatedly told me that finding a girlfriend in junior high would only ruin things. I understood our family's situation; there was no other way out except to study hard and strive for success. So I always respected myself. There were a few pretty girls in my class, and I only glanced at them a few times.

Actually, I could never define what "pretty" meant, and I didn't understand why I would glance at them a few times.
"You're so handsome, your grades are so good, and you're so active. It seems like some girls are pursuing you."

"I know studying is more important, I haven't paid any attention," I answered honestly.

"That's not the reason, is it? The girls in your class say your eyes are often wandering. Tell me what you're looking at?" The teacher approached me with a sweet smile and asked teasingly.

To be honest, the curves of the female students' bodies, outlined by their dresses that covered their chests, were really beautiful. But I didn't dare answer.
"You're hesitant to say? Actually, when you look at female students, they don't blame you. They even think you're looking."
I asked doubtfully, "Really? I didn't feel like they were thinking about me."

"What are they thinking? Take you, for example. Your beard is so long, you're a grown man, so thinking about girls..."

My ears turned red.

"What's there to be embarrassed about? It's normal and expected. It would be strange if you didn't think about it."

Suddenly, I felt confident. It turned out that looking at girls wasn't a sin. So I answered very honestly and naively—"Teacher, some girls are indeed beautiful..."

The teacher smiled brightly. "What's so beautiful about them?"

I blushed and didn't answer.

"Are they as beautiful as the teacher?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Do you usually look at me?"

"I don't dare."

"Why?"

"Because you're a teacher."

"Do you want to look?"

In an instant, it felt like a fire was burning in my heart, that fire surging around in my stomach with my heart pounding. I wanted to catch my breath, but I dared not. My face was flushed; I could feel it.

I looked up at my teacher and realized how beautiful she was. Her eyes were so full of affection, her smile so warm, and her words so gentle. I wanted to hug her tightly. But I didn't dare; I just stared blankly.

My teacher looked at me and smiled mischievously, like a ten-year-old child. She gently walked up to me, reached out and covered my eyes with her hands, whispering, "Get up, close your eyes, and don't open them."

I obediently stood up, closed my eyes, and stopped thinking. The beautiful body of the woman I'd always dreamed of seeing was about to appear before me. Time would freeze, beauty would be eternal, my heart would stop beating, and perhaps, I would even cry… I felt the teacher undressing me, then my pants, including my underwear. Her soft hands roamed over my body, the feeling like my mother's gentle touch when she called me "good girl" after I cried. So tender. I was obedient, letting my clothes and pants slide down, letting my naked body appear before the teacher, without surprise or unease.

I seemed to hear the teacher say from afar, "Lin, you have a great body, so many muscles. You must work very hard."

I only whispered, "Yes." "

Is your penis usually this big?"

"No."

"It's so big, it'll grow even bigger."

"Really?"

"Of course, it's so beautiful."

Suddenly, I felt my penis grow even bigger, almost painfully swollen.

The teacher hugged me, her hot, soft breasts pressed against my chest. I almost suffocated.
"Open your eyes,"

she said, panting as I opened them. I saw her loving eyes and her flushed cheeks. Her clothes were down to her waist, revealing her two large breasts. She rubbed her breasts against my chest, and for the first time, I truly felt her soft, supple body. We sat on the bed, and I hugged her waist, lying in her arms like a child, looking at her and savoring this dreamlike happiness.

I gently stroked her beautiful breasts with one hand. My other hand couldn't even fully grasp them. As I kneaded them, I looked at her flower-like smile. I can't describe the feeling at that moment; it was so intoxicating, so mesmerizing. The teacher leaned down, and I took her round nipple into my mouth. I gently sucked on it, afraid of accidentally ruining such a beautiful work of art. I heard my teacher's gentle, fairy-like voice again: "Am I beautiful, teacher?"

"Yes, teacher, you're so beautiful. There's no one more beautiful than you in the world. Teacher, your breasts are the most beautiful. All the girls in the class have such small breasts."

"Really? Aren't you envious?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll gouge out your eyes."

"Teacher, don't gouge out my eyes. Let me see! I'm not a bad person. Teacher, if anyone bullies you in the future, I'll have eyes to protect you."

The teacher smiled, a very sweet smile.

"Teacher, there are no bones in breasts, so how can they stand so high?"

"They stand so high so you can see them. You're such an ignorant child. Stand up straight, I can't hold you anymore."

I got up from the teacher's arms and sat facing her. I admired her firm breasts once more. Usually, I could only see a small patch of white skin under her neckline. I never knew that such a beautiful work of art was hidden below, with such a deep cleavage in the middle. I grabbed her breasts with both hands, pressed the teacher down on the bed, and rubbed them hard. The teacher gently lay down, her eyes closed.

Her breasts were so white and tender, so irresistible. After a while, I heard her soft moan. I said, "Teacher, is it uncomfortable for me to be pressing on you?"

"No."

"No, if you're uncomfortable, I won't touch you anymore."

The teacher smiled and sat up, one hand touching my wet penis, asking, "Is it comfortable?"
I felt an unusual itch on my glans, but the more it itched, the more comfortable it felt. I said, "It's so itchy."

"When you touch my breasts, I feel the same way."

"I heard you moaning, and I was afraid of hurting you."

"Idiot, if I hurt you, wouldn't I tell you to be gentler?"

"Then I'd still let you touch them."

"No more touching, are you going to touch them until dawn? You're so pathetic."

I looked at the teacher, stunned for a long time. I so wanted to touch her breasts again. If I had breasts like that, I would touch them every day. It seems I can't touch them today, and I definitely won't be able to touch them in the future. I suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of loss. I almost wanted to cry.

But then I suddenly realized the teacher wasn't angry; her face was even redder. So I mischievously said, "Teacher, I saw your legs at the school's evening party before. They were so white and long, I want to see them."

The teacher smiled happily, then scolded, "You shameless thing, you're not allowed to look." She pressed down on her skirt with one hand.

"Linlin is quite something, look!" I said, then tickled her armpit. The teacher couldn't resist and let go. I grabbed the skirt and started pulling it down. The teacher grabbed my hand and said very seriously, "You're only allowed to look at legs."

"I promise." -- Actually, at that time, I didn't know what else was interesting besides legs.
The teacher then pressed down on the skirt again, saying, "No, you definitely won't keep your word."

I was puzzled. What else could be interesting besides legs? Men all have a penis, because they're men, women don't, but that doesn't mean it's strange. It's normal that the teacher doesn't have one; I won't make a fuss.

I knew that answering honestly would be useless. I kept tickling her until she freed her hand to block me, and I took the opportunity to pull down her skirt. Her bright red panties and two beautiful, full, white thighs were revealed. I was extremely excited and almost bit her.

I held her thighs with both hands, stroking them incessantly. I felt the perfect curves of her body; my excitement was indescribable. I leaned over her and hugged her tightly. I so wished she were my future wife, my lover. I whispered in her ear, "Teacher, you're so beautiful, let me kiss you."

I gently kissed her blushing cheek. She hugged me back. We kissed, both panting.

After a while, we stopped, and I asked her, "Teacher, does it feel good when I touch your thighs?"
"How does it feel when I touch your thighs?"

I knew she was teasing me again.

I suddenly realized my penis was soft. Usually, this thing is always hard one minute and soft the next, so I don't pay much attention to it. But then I remembered the teacher repeatedly telling me I was only allowed to look at her thighs. Humph, there must be something pretty under her panties too. Suddenly, I remembered that women have a penis down there, and that thing must be beautiful.

How could I see it? I pondered for a moment. Then I glanced under the bed and said to the teacher in a serious tone, "Teacher, there's something on the floor, come and see."

The teacher hunched over, supporting herself with her hands as she looked towards the bed. Her two breasts, hanging in front of her chest, swayed back and forth, like cows. I didn't care about looking. I sat up and pulled down her panties.

The teacher cried out "Ah!" and rolled over, punching me with her small fists. I ignored her punching, first pulling down her pants completely, then hugging the teacher and saying, "Good teacher, don't hit me." The teacher stopped, panting heavily, her chest rising and falling, making her even more beautiful.

"You broke your promise."

"Teacher, you're so beautiful, and you don't have a penis, so it must be even more beautiful down there."

The teacher laughed happily: "Isn't your penis beautiful?"

“I don’t know if it looks good or not. But I’m sure your pubic area will look great.”

The teacher covered her pubic area with both hands, and I tickled her again. As soon as she let go, I took over the space with one hand.

Except for the tender flesh and the slightly rough pubic hair, I felt it was very wet.
But I didn’t feel disgusted.

I said knowingly, “Teacher, even though you don’t have a penis, you still get wet.”

“Idiot, fool, good-for-nothing…” the teacher laughed and scolded me. She punched me a few times.
I parried a few punches with her, and the teacher calmed down.

We sat facing each other on the bed, and I gently stroked her private parts. The teacher cooperated by spreading her legs, and I could see more clearly. I remembered that the little girl next door had a similar vulva, only without hair and smaller. The teacher’s vulva was much more beautiful. A dividing line in the center of her flat abdomen separated two tender fleshy parts, which felt absolutely symmetrical and perfect.

I said, “Teacher, these two fleshy parts are really interesting.” The teacher just laughed and hit me.

Later I learned that those were labia. Parting her labia, I saw two pink labia minora and a wet area below. I tried to touch down; there was an opening in the wet area. I probed inside—it was so deep! The inside was sticky and slippery, like water. I smeared the fluid on her labia majora and around her. The teacher's familiar moans came again.

Hearing her voice made my penis hard. I didn't care about anything else; I just wanted to make her feel itchy. I sat next to her, one hand around her waist, the other smearing the fluid upwards. I noticed a protrusion in the middle of her labia majora; the teacher's moans were the loudest there. So I focused on touching that area.

Later I learned it was called the clitoris, the most sensitive spot for a woman. I couldn't help but feel excited; I knew the teacher wouldn't call me an idiot anymore. Later, the teacher moved her legs, opening and closing them, her labia majora opening and closing beautifully.

My penis burned and throbbed. I wanted to penetrate her. But I didn't know if the teacher liked it. I tried asking the teacher, "Teacher, I want to put my penis inside you." The teacher laughed.

"You'll ejaculate as soon as you go in. Let me do it for you first."

The teacher held my rock-hard penis in her hand and rubbed it back and forth with the fluid that had flowed out. After a few strokes, I felt countless insects crawling all over my body. I just tried to lift my penis forward, and then I let out a "humph." Apart from an absolutely intoxicating itch on my penis, I stopped breathing, my mind went blank, and I knew nothing.

About ten seconds passed before I finally let out a long breath and came back to my senses. I leaned against the teacher's chest, looking at my half-erect penis and the large handful of sticky stuff in the teacher's hand, and breathed a long sigh of relief.

The teacher said, "You ejaculated so much." I asked what this stuff was for. Actually, I knew my question was absolutely stupid, but I asked it anyway.

The teacher scolded me again for being stupid: "You'll rely on this to have children in the future. It's your penis going in here, and then you ejaculate inside, and you'll get pregnant, you pig."

I nodded, not quite understanding. First, I got some clean water and waited for the teacher to wash her hands. Then I got back on the bed and touched her wet spot again; it was still very moist. I said, "Teacher, if I insert it, will you get pregnant?" The teacher said,

"No. I have contraception."

I immediately got excited, pushed the teacher down, and was about to insert it. The teacher's buttocks wiggled, and I just couldn't get in. I threatened the teacher, "I'm going to tickle you."

The teacher said, "If you dare tickle me, I won't let you in."

I immediately surrendered, "Then I won't tickle you, okay?"

The teacher obediently lay on the bed, raised her legs, and I knelt down opposite her, raising my erect penis to insert it. The teacher was very gentle; she used one hand to help my penis enter. It was so warm and moist inside, I couldn't help but start thrusting back and forth. The teacher moaned as she tightened her labia. I felt my penis was a bit tight inside, so I didn't dare move too much. I asked her, "Will you feel uncomfortable if I thrust faster?"

"Just keep thrusting. As long as there's moisture, it'll feel good. The more you thrust, the itchier it will feel inside." The teacher found a pillow and put it under her back, touching her labia with one hand while watching me thrust back and forth inside. I then remembered that touching her clitoris also made her feel itchy.

After thrusting for a while, I thought I had to make sure she enjoyed it, so I lay down on the bed sideways, had the teacher curl up her legs, and inserted my penis between her legs. This way, I could use one hand to reach up to touch her clitoris from one of her legs, and it worked very well. The teacher's moans grew louder. I never believed before that her seemingly painful expression was actually the most pleasurable.

I didn't care about the rhythm, I just instinctively attacked. She was panting as she gently taught me the pressure to stroke her clitoris. She said, "Gently, gently, just like that, wait a bit." I slowly learned to adjust, and I was happy to satisfy my teacher in the best way possible.

After about five or six minutes, I heard my teacher's breathing become heavier. My penis was also squeezed tighter, almost making it difficult to go in and out, and I tried my best to thrust inside. I had a feeling of wanting to ejaculate. But I knew that my teacher's most comfortable moment was coming, and if I ejaculated this time, I would go soft, how could I do that to my teacher?

My self-blame took over at that special moment, but the feeling of wanting to ejaculate disappeared, and my penis didn't seem as hard as before. If it wasn't hard, my teacher wouldn't feel comfortable. So I tried to get hard again, but the feeling of wanting to ejaculate came back. I was very anxious for a moment. I had to slow down, insert deeply, and then slowly come out, trying to minimize the friction on my penis.

Fortunately, my teacher's moans were still very loud. Now that I think about it, it was probably because one of my hands was constantly stroking her clitoris. Just as I was caught in the dilemma of whether or not to ejaculate, she hugged me tightly, let out a "Ah!" followed by a spasm throughout her body. At the same time, it felt as if a powerful muscle suddenly appeared inside her, forcing my penis out, and her buttocks arched backward... It took a long time for her to calm down. She closed her eyes, panting, as if she was very, very tired. I put a pillow for her and helped her lie down. I stroked her black hair while admiring her sweet sleeping posture. She opened her eyes, looked at me with satisfaction, and asked, "Want to go in again?" I said yes.

I inserted myself in the same position as before, and as soon as I touched her clitoris, she snatched my hand away. "Just do what feels good for you, I've already orgasmed."

"Don't you want to orgasm again?"

"No, besides, you can't do it." I really couldn't. Because I almost couldn't hold back just now.
So my penis moved freely inside, and I relaxed, unable to ejaculate inside. It just stayed hard. The teacher laughed at me. She made me lie on the bed, and she sat on my lap, thrusting her vagina in and out of me.

I admired her trembling breasts again; there was still a lot of fluid flowing from her vagina, and she was moving very fast. Gradually, I felt like I was going to ejaculate. But I realized the teacher was tired, and I didn't want to ejaculate yet. I made her get down, and I used the position we used before, kneeling and penetrating her from the opposite side. I focused on enjoying it, admiring how beautiful the teacher's labia were, manipulating them with my hand as I thrust.

The teacher made me lean over her, and she held my waist, helping me to penetrate deeper. Sure enough, this worked very well; I immediately felt like I was going to ejaculate, and I wanted to penetrate even deeper. In an instant, I felt my penis like a floodgate had been opened, and an unstoppable gush of semen shot out. My buttocks pressed tightly forward. My mind went blank again, but I liked this feeling. It took me a while to breathe and come back to my senses. I lay on top of the teacher, panting, unwilling to leave.

The teacher smiled gently and pushed me away, then found some toilet paper to wipe her private parts and my penis clean. She touched my soft penis and said, "This thing of yours, I wonder how many female classmates it will harm in the future."

I said seriously, "Let's make a wish for our penises, that they will only do good things and not bad things, okay?" We both laughed.

Afterwards, we lay naked on the bed chatting, like siblings talking. Suddenly, we heard the voices of our classmates coming from afar—they were back from the movie! I quickly got dressed and reluctantly left.

I didn't sleep that night. For the next two days, I spent two more blissful nights with the teacher.

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