My beautiful teacher

With my acceptance letter in hand, I went to register at the university not far from my home. It was a very ordinary university, and I was quite
reluctant to study there, so I wasn't very energetic when I went to register. I used to play football here often, so I was
familiar with the environment and easily found the registration area.
Registering by class, I was quite surprised to see my homeroom teacher sitting in front of me. She had long, curly black hair,
a smooth, fair face, and bright, expressive eyes. A beauty mark adorned her full lips, and she wore a high-necked
silk dress, the neckline revealing a glimpse of her white skin.
While registering my name, I heard her voice—soft and delicate. Seeing the deep cleavage from her neckline,
my penis involuntarily hardened. I couldn't tell her height from where she was sitting. At that moment, I finally felt like an
excited university freshman. She seemed to have a good first impression of me and immediately appointed me as the temporary class monitor, responsible for
coordinating with the new students.
A few weeks into the semester, I officially became the class monitor. I've gotten to know my beautiful homeroom teacher a little better
. She's been married for six years, thirty-two, 1.64 meters tall, loves sports, and teaches us advanced
mathematics .
In her class, I simply couldn't concentrate, and I imagine my male classmates were in the same boat.
Her large breasts swayed gently with her every step, her rounded hips supported her slender
waist, connecting to her straight legs. She liked to wear fitted silk dresses, the subtle floral prints
highlighting her smooth, rounded curves.
But what really mattered was her allure. She always seemed quite sunny. Why "seemed"?
Because her sunshine wasn't like that of a young girl; it lacked that youthful naiveté. I felt her sunshine was
a facade. A woman like her must have constantly suffered from groping from men's genitals, and this seemingly sunny,
easy smile was merely a way to deflect such harassment.
But her eyes couldn't hide the truth; her deep, watery eyes always held a smile, with a faint,
natural . Her lips couldn't hide the truth; her slightly parted, crimson lips seemed to always be telling of her
longing for love. Her waist couldn't hide the truth; her swaying waist seemed to anticipate a thirsty dragon stirring the calm pool within her lower abdomen.
This is just my speculation. In her class, my hands felt like they weren't my own; I only wanted to hold her
waist, press them against her breasts, or slowly slide them down her abdomen.
How of a fight?
Later, she discovered that almost all the boys had many questions about the material, always
asking irrelevant questions after class. And at those times, when she leaned over to explain, that deep
cleavage captivated countless students, while her cheerful smile
stifled countless impulses to reach deeper.
Speaking of me, I also had a strong urge towards my teacher. Perhaps this is what people call a "chemical
reaction," but I was very cautious. If I easily revealed such desire, I didn't know what
the consequences . So, I rarely even saw her, living in constant torment.
I always had a feeling that if I ever had the chance to touch this forbidden love, she would strip away all her sunshine,
replacing it with a violent storm. University life continued like this for over two months. After the midterm exams, I had my first
opportunity to be close to my teacher. The school was organizing a performance to celebrate National Day, and my teacher invited me to her
home on campus to discuss the program arrangements.
When I arrived at her house, I was surprised to find that only I, a class representative, had come. After
knocking on the door , my teacher appeared, wearing a tight black tank top and denim shorts, her figure practically exposed.
After inviting me to sit down, she took out the program and discussed the order of performances.
At this moment, I was so close to her for the first time. A delicate fragrance wafted over me, and what was even more unsettling was that
I could see most of her snow-white breasts through her low neckline. My throat was dry, and I had difficulty breathing; after all, I had practically never been in contact
with a woman's body before. The phone rang on the other side of the sofa, and she lay on her side to answer it. I could finally breathe a sigh of relief
. But her round, pert buttocks were still completely in front of me, below which were two smooth, long legs.
When she turned around, I caught a glimpse of a faint smile. She asked me softly, "
Are you thirsty?"
I forced myself to remain calm and replied, "I'm fine! Is Uncle not home?" Good heavens, I don't know why
I blurted out that.
She chuckled, "Yes, he's not here. Are you looking for him?" I almost fainted.
As she got up to pour me some water, I realized that the sofa faced a mirror. She must have
seen me staring intently at her beautiful buttocks through the mirror! Thinking about this, I became very nervous, but I also calmed down.
If she hadn't made me leave in time, this might have been a good opportunity for me.
In a short while, we finalized the program schedule and selected the students in charge. All that was left was to rehearse
the order of the announcers. At this point, she started chatting with
me about everyday things. Suddenly, she smiled and asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
I honestly replied, "Not yet." "
Oh, you're not lying to me, are you? Students these days are very progressive. I heard it's rare to see virgins your age anymore, right
?" She said, smiling and staring at me. I didn't know how to answer. I couldn't exactly tell her that I really didn't
have a girlfriend and had only managed to get through these two difficult months by masturbating while thinking about her, could I?
The best approach at this point was to ask her in return, "When did you start dating, teacher?" "I
think I was 23. I dated before 23, but it didn't work out. Your uncle is someone I dated when I was 23, and I
lost my virginity to him!"
She laughed, "These days, you rarely see women like me, right? Saving my
virginity for my husband?"
Ignoring my embarrassment, I quickly seized the opportunity, "Uncle is so lucky!"
"Why?"
Women always seem to know the answer, so I asked knowingly, "A teacher as beautiful as you, anyone who gets to touch
her would be ecstatic!" My heart pounded. I steeled myself, waiting for her answer. If
she gave me a chance, like asking if I'd feel happy, I'd answer that I'd only know after touching her, and
that would be perfect.
But she didn't. She remained silent for a while, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, she asked if I liked playing basketball. I told
her I did, and she seemed excited again, saying I should go play with her this weekend. I thought to myself, where on the playground...
What did that mean? It was all classmates, a veritable party of perverts. But I still agreed.
Over the weekend, she called and asked me to go to a basketball court on the other side of the city. We played basketball all afternoon. She was drenched in sweat,
so I had to play as hard as I could to distract myself, otherwise, she would easily discover the secret of my shorts.
It was evening when we came out, and she started saying her foot hurt a lot, but she wouldn't go to the hospital, saying it would get
better with some ointment at home. She also didn't take the taxi, luckily the station was close to the stadium.
Once on the taxi, it was crowded, and there were no seats. We both stood there, and her face
showed pain from time to time as the train swayed. I suggested, "Teacher, let me help you!"
She whispered, "Don't call me teacher anymore, how are you going to help me?"
I straightened up again and supported her waist. The scent of her sweat wafted over, and strands of her hair
brushed against my face in the wind from the window. I had to desperately control myself, otherwise my little brother would poke at my sister-in-law sitting in the seat.
Her waist was slender and supple, incredibly elastic, with a small dimple there, as if tailor-made for me, just big enough to
fit a hand. Her close-fitting sports t-shirt was damp. The outer edge of my palm marked the beginning of her hip curve, the outer edge of
my thumb what must have been her delicate rib, and the tips of my fingers my respected teacher's lower abdomen. Whether
moving forward or backward, it was paradise for me.
I couldn't resist; I hoped the bus would sway more violently, occasionally shifting
a couple of or a centimeter or two towards her beautiful buttocks. How I longed to grasp her buttocks completely! The teacher seemed
tired, not saying anything to me, but gently leaning closer. If only she didn't have arms, perhaps I could press my hand
against her full breasts. And so, the long journey felt like a short time.
After getting off the bus, it was already 8 or 9 o'clock, and naturally, I had to take her home. Uncle was still not there.
After opening the door, she asked me to sit down. "Take a shower before going back to the dorm. The bathroom is closed now, right?"
"Thank you, teacher!"
She went into the bedroom to change. When she came out, she was wrapped in a towel, and it seemed she wasn't wearing a bra, yet her breasts were still proudly
erect . "Sit down for a bit, I'll shower first, then you can shower!"
With that, she limped into the bathroom. The sound of water started running, and my mind began to race. There should
be her underwear in the bedroom, right? I've never usually had such a strong interest in women's underwear.
But at this moment, it was as if I were under a spell. I quietly walked into the bedroom, and yes, there it was—
white boxer briefs. When I turned them inside out, the entire pair of underwear was wet, with a faint,
sour, astringent smell of jujube blossoms mixed with a hint of urine. This smell drove me crazy, and a surge
of heat .
I stood there, stunned, picked up her white bra, and buried myself deep inside it. Her breasts smelled so good! I
wished could become that bra, supporting my teacher's erect breasts every day. Teacher, I'm sorry, but
when that thought arose, the image of her snow-white breasts excited me so much I almost ejaculated.
Suddenly, a gasp came from the bathroom. Without thinking, I asked, "Teacher? What's wrong?"
"My feet hurt, it's okay!"
I quietly slipped out of the bedroom and went to the bathroom door. It was completely sealed off; there was nowhere to see.
I could only hear the sound of water splashing on my teacher's body, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.
A moment later, my teacher finished washing, and I washed too. In the bathroom, I really wanted to masturbate, but I didn't dare.
When I came out, my teacher had changed into a light purple-green silk skirt and a white sleeveless cotton shirt. Her hair was still wet,
hanging loosely over her shoulders, and she was applying safflower oil to her feet.
Seeing her struggling, I said, "Teacher, let me help you."
"How can I?"
"It's nothing!"
She smiled and handed me the bottle. Sitting sideways on the sofa, she bent one leg and stretched out her injured
foot, placing it on my thigh. I don't know how to describe her foot; it was white, soft, and translucent, like
five little baby toes. The curve from her calf to her ankle was naturally smooth and tight, only one hand could grasp it, and her ankle was round.
In an instant, my little brother swelled up, my hand trembled slightly, and saliva seeped from my mouth;
I wanted suck on her foot.
I gently began to massage her foot, and she seemed to suddenly feel a lot of pain. Her foot moved and touched my swollen
penis, but she seemed not to notice, just leaving it there, touching
the tip of .
She gave a soft "Mmm," and I asked her, "Does it hurt a lot?"
"Mmm, but it feels good!" she said, leaning back and resting her head on the armrest.
The shape of her nipples was faintly visible through her cotton shirt; she didn't seem to be wearing a bra. Her skirt was
about 20 centimeters above her knees. I lowered my head as much as possible and could see what was under her skirt. I could see
half of her rounded buttocks through her bent leg. She wasn't wearing underwear, and her pubic hair didn't seem very thick. It was a pity her other leg was straight;
otherwise, I could have seen the entrance to her private parts.
Massaging her feet, I pretended to support myself with my other hand, occasionally touching her smooth calves. The teacher spoke again
, and this time, it was like a thunderbolt striking me. "Where were you when I was taking a shower?"
That's it, she knew everything. One slip-up; she could tell I was in her bedroom asking her what was wrong.
My mind went blank. I looked up, and all I saw was white light. The teacher was looking at me in the mirror.
"What's wrong?" The teacher seemed completely unfazed.
"Okay, much better. Can you massage me a little longer?"
"Oh, sure!"
I started massaging her delicate soles. The teacher seemed to be asleep, occasionally letting out a soft "hmm." After a while, she
shifted her body, bending her injured leg. With that movement, her foot landed directly on my penis. Her soles
were already burning hot from my rubbing, and my penis could clearly feel it. I didn't dare stop, continuing to massage, as if I
were rubbing my own penis with her foot. Although her legs were bent, I didn't dare stare. Occasionally, a quick glance
would reveal her vulva.
I couldn't take it anymore. Suddenly, my mind went blank, and I slowly picked up the teacher's foot and put it in my mouth
, licking her toes and soles with all my might. The teacher let out a soft "ah" but didn't get up, as if she had really fallen asleep
. I licked her passionately, and when I kissed the inside of her knee, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me.
But her usual sunny smile was gone. She seemed a little nervous, biting her lower lip, her eyes looking like they were about to overflow
, and her face had turned pink.
She just stared at me like that, and that moment felt like an eternity. She slowly reached out and stroked my face.
At that moment, I understood everything, yet understood nothing at all. I carefully pulled
up , leaned down, and kissed her thighs, left and right. The teacher was still biting her lower lip, making
soft moaning sounds. Encouraged, I stuck out my tongue and gradually explored her vulva.
Her pubic hair was indeed sparse, soft, and smooth. Her vulva smelled slightly fishy and salty, with a faint hint of urine.
Her pink labia minora were wet and pressed against my lips. The teacher frowned slightly, her usual smile completely gone, and
began to breathe heavily.
Soon her clitoris became erect, and I went wild, licking it in circles. The teacher
seemed to be getting wet more and more, making my chin completely wet.
The teacher sat up, as if realizing how much effort I was putting in. I knelt on the floor, positioned myself
between her legs, and wrapped my arms around her thighs, cupping her smooth abdomen as I frantically licked and sucked her vulva
. Her buttocks would sometimes rise, as if welcoming my tongue, and sometimes contract backward, as if trying to escape.
I took advantage of this and grasped her breasts tightly. They were so big, plump, and incredibly elastic—exactly
the feeling I had imagined.
She got up and removed her shirt, then helped me take off my own. I wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing her
long neck and earlobes. Her breathing was heavy, her breath hot against my ear. I felt like I
was melting.
My hands pressed tightly against her back. I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, where we both fell heavily onto the bed.
Her soft, white hands slipped inside my underwear, kneading my erect penis. She made me lie flat,
turned on the warm orange bedside lamp, removed my underwear, and began to masturbate me.
After rubbing for a while, she turned over and asked me breathlessly, "Can I sit on your face?"
I was speechless, so I nodded. She knelt on either side of my face with her legs spread apart, leaned down, and my glans felt
incredibly itchy. When I looked up, the teacher had already taken my penis into her mouth and was licking my glans. She carefully
lowered her buttocks, and when I raised my head, I pressed my nose against her anus, and my tongue went into her vagina.
At this moment, we both forgot our shyness and abandoned all sense of shame, groaning loudly: "Zangjun, is
n't the teacher's pussy delicious? You're going to lick the teacher to death... deeper, faster, faster!"
"T-Teacher, I didn't expect your pussy to be so horny. Lick my testicles, suck my testicles." The teacher
did as I said. She began to lick me passionately, and after a while, she started to play with my anus, raising her buttocks
to meet her fingers. She put her fingers inside, rubbing and probing my anus.
Oh my god, my nerves are about to snap. "Teacher, I'm going to cum in your mouth!"
She released my penis, gently pinched my glans, then pinched it hard twice. The surging heat seemed
to recede. At this moment, my penis was swollen, but it felt a little numb. I no longer had the urge to ejaculate, but I only wanted to fuck
this slutty teacher to death. I got up, laid her down, spread her thighs, held my
penis , and thrust in hard. The teacher grabbed my arms: "Ah, yes, that's it, come and fuck the teacher,
hurry, fuck me to death!"
My well-trained body played a decisive role. I thrust desperately, silencing her with a deep kiss
. She could only make muffled sounds from deep in her throat. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
Only I could enjoy this sound. I wanted to fuck her, I wanted all of her.
After hundreds of thrusts, the teacher's vagina began to contract. I felt a ring clamping my glans, tightening and
tightening. She closed her eyes, arched her back, and her body arched. She mumbled something indistinctly, making it difficult to understand what she was saying. A
blush swept across her neck and chest.
I desperately resisted the urge to ejaculate. The teacher opened her eyes and looked at me gently. "I want all your
semen, all of it!"
she said. Then she knelt down, raised her buttocks, and rubbed her vagina, saying, "Put it in my asshole! Go
slowly!"
I pulled out my penis, which was already covered in the teacher's vaginal fluid. I didn't need much lubrication. The teacher guided me to slowly
insert the whole thing. Her asshole gripped me tightly, and I felt a piercing itch. I started to thrust. The teacher's
beautiful eyebrows were slightly furrowed, perhaps in a little pain. I asked her with concern, "Does it hurt?"
"Take it slow, okay?" I followed her and thrust slowly, gradually increasing the pace. The teacher's asshole contracted and tightened
, already gripping my penis tightly. The stimulation made me lose all control. My penis
started throb, and the teacher pulled it out, tilting her face up to receive my violent ejaculation. Semen clung to her
crescent-shaped eyebrows, her beautiful and straight nose, and her bright red lips and tongue.
I took another shower, gave my teacher a deep kiss, and left her house. In the quiet autumn night, thinking about
having such a teacher as a companion in my university life, a sense of happiness enveloped me; imagining that I might be able to change seats to
the last row, to put my hand between her legs in class, to
hold —would my university life still be so boring?

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