How many flowers fall in dreams?

First published on sis1 on July 6, 2015. It had been eight years since

I last

saw Teacher Zhou. After graduating from junior high

school, various reasons prevented us from seeing each other again. At the end of last year, I drove to a county town for business and met Teacher Zhou at a restaurant famous for its local specialties. Over the years, she hadn't changed much; her appearance was still beautiful. Although time had left some marks on her face, it hadn't diminished her charm; instead, it had added to her elegance.

I tentatively called out to her, and she looked in my direction, her long hair flowing like that of the young girl from years ago.

She seemed to realize something, then chuckled and called my name.

We found a newly opened, supposedly charming coffee shop near the restaurant and sat down, chatting about the past and our current situations. Even after so many years, Teacher Zhou was still as talkative as ever.

Finally, we exchanged phone numbers and added each other on WeChat. In my opinion, this was just a polite exchange of contact information. After all, we hadn't seen each other for so many years, and she had never attended any class reunions; to me, she was merely a relatively familiar stranger. However, what happened next was somewhat unexpected.

At the beginning of the year, the company gave us an early holiday, and I spent most of my time at home playing cards with friends. Occasionally, I would chat with Ms. Zhou, and we gradually became familiar again.

We talked about the past, and I dared to speak freely about what had happened. Sometimes she felt uncomfortable listening to me, but I would just laugh at my youthful ignorance. Late at night, when I was drunk, I would tell her things like, "You're at least a semi-sexual enlightenment teacher for me," and that she was the object of many boys' masturbation in our class

back then. She sent a shy emoji. I went to take a shower and didn't reply. After showering, I saw her message on WeChat: "Did you ever think about this back then?"

I immediately became interested and replied, "No."

She sent a "cut" message, and just as I was about to reply "Don't believe me?" she sent, "Can I call you?"

I said yes.

Her voice on the other end of the phone was so delicate it seemed to melt me. Even now, I occasionally think back to that night, and I find life increasingly unbelievable. If my girlfriend hadn't gone home that day, if I hadn't drunk too much and had been sober, I probably wouldn't have found her voice so alluring. But these are all just hypotheticals.

We talked on the phone for about half an hour, starting with random things, then the conversation turned to her arguing with her husband. I knew her husband; he had even taught us math before.

Later, perhaps due to the alcohol, I said, "Don't talk about other men in front of me." She was startled by my abrupt remark and remained silent for about a minute, as did I. The call didn't end.

I broke the silence, saying, "Since you're so unhappy, I'll come find you now and talk to you."

I thought she would laugh it off, and I hadn't really intended to go with her, given how far apart we were. However, the reality was strangely different; she said yes.

Suddenly, I was completely sober. I chuckled, and she playfully said, "I knew you were just trying to cheer me up."

Now that things had come to this, and with my penis already aroused by her voice, I, driven by lust, said, "Okay, I'll come find you right now."

She said, "Then come over."

I got dressed and, fueled by the alcohol, drove for two hours to her apartment building, arriving at 3 a.m. I called her to come downstairs, and soon I saw her coming down in a coat over her pajamas.

I don't know where I got the courage, but I went over and hugged her, asking what was wrong.

She said nothing, let's go home first.

I led her into her apartment, and she explained that her husband and daughter had gone back to their hometown in the countryside, and she didn't want to go back because of a strained relationship with her mother-in-law.

I sat on the sofa, and she poured me some water. Looking at her beautiful features, I suddenly felt a little attracted.

Seeing me staring at her, she put down her glass and asked if I'd looked enough.

I decided to go all the way and said I hadn't.

She sat down next to me and said, "Shameless, I didn't expect you to actually come. Driving must have been tiring."

I said, "You know that's good," and pretended to be sore all over, saying, "Aren't you going to rub me? I'm very tired."

Unexpectedly, she got up and went behind the sofa to massage my shoulders. After a few strokes, I held her hand and said, "Your hands are so soft." Then I got up and hugged her across the sofa. I could clearly feel her tension and her firm breasts pressing against my chest.

She didn't say anything. I wanted to kiss her, but she refused. I continued to kiss her, and this time she didn't refuse; instead, she responded passionately.

What happened afterward was basically what everyone imagines—everything seemed to fall into place naturally.

Actually, I'm writing this not to indulge in fantasies like most of you, but because it really happened to me, and I've always been hesitant to mention our intimate moments in bed.

But that night was truly the most comfortable night of my life, even though it was only a few hours. We sucked and nibbled at each other; she liked the woman-on-top position and moaned loudly, and I felt endlessly entertained, as if we owed each other something.

Perhaps it was the feeling she gave me, or perhaps it was the alcohol, but although we made love twice that night, each time lasted unusually long. Whenever I was about to lose control, she seemed to sense it and would stop, gently stroking my penis, kissing me, and licking me.

Her vagina was tighter than someone her age. Later, during sex, I learned that she hadn't had sex in a long time.

Every time she moved on top of me, the sight of her long, flowing hair always stirred my heart. Later, I accidentally saw an AV featuring Maki Tomoda and realized that she and Maki Tomoda looked exactly alike.

I liked Ms. Zhou's buttocks, and I mentioned this to her more than once, but she always thought I was perverted. Deep down, she was a traditional woman; for a time, she felt guilty about what had happened with me and refused to continue the relationship. But after a while, she seemed to have come to her senses again, and returned to her usual gentle and tender self. She even tried watching adult videos with me and mimicking the actresses by licking me. Judging from her experience, I was definitely the first man she had ever licked. However, after she licked me more often, her technique made it less uncomfortable for me.

The only regret is that even now, she still won't let me lick her genitals. She always says that it's dirty there and doesn't want me to eat dirty things. I couldn't persuade her otherwise, and we've never tried 69 together.

Now, back to the next morning, I opened my eyes and saw that the clock on the wall in her bedroom showed 11 o'clock. The winter sun made me feel unusually comfortable. Teacher Zhou was no longer in bed. I felt a little hungry, so I put on my underwear and went to the living room to find something to eat.

I saw Teacher Zhou wearing glasses, eating fries and watching TV. I called out to her, "Good morning, Teacher Zhou." She turned around and said, "Aren't you cold wearing only shorts?"

I pretended to be very cold and said that I was indeed very cold and needed a hug. She took off her glasses and beckoned me over.

I ran to her and hugged her. She asked, "What are you doing?" I said, "What are you doing? You were fine yesterday, but now you won't even let me hug you." She couldn't do anything about it and let me sit on her lap.

She asked if I was hungry, and I said yes. Then she got up and went to the kitchen to make me something to eat. I think that's what mature women are like. Why do so many of us like mature women? It's probably not just because of their charm, but also their thoughtfulness and attentiveness. These are things that young girls can't compare to. Later events proved that Ms. Zhou was indeed incomparable to all my previous girlfriends. Although her skills in bed weren't great—I had to teach her a lot—it didn't diminish the pleasure and comfort she brought me in the slightest.

After what I couldn't tell if it was breakfast or lunch, we made love again on her sofa. At first, she was reluctant, saying she'd never done it on a sofa before, but I persisted. This time, I carried her to every corner of her house, including the kitchen, ostensibly to show me around. She called me a pervert, but I could tell from her expression that she was incredibly happy.

In the afternoon, I went back to my own home. Although she was reluctant to leave, and I wanted to be intimate with her, her husband was about to return home, and to avoid any unnecessary trouble, I went back to my own. Leaving her, I felt a sense of humiliation, a feeling that told me I might have fallen in love with this woman—my former homeroom teacher, this woman eight years my senior with a family and a daughter—who had suddenly entered my heart.

Back home, besides reluctance, I felt melancholy. I declined all invitations to play cards, staying glued to my phone and WeChat, hoping she would reply to my messages, since her husband was home and it wasn't convenient to call her.

The entire afternoon and evening were unbearable. It wasn't until after 11 PM that I received her WeChat message. She said, "Honey, I've been busy. We have guests coming tomorrow." I replied, "Oh." She said, "Are you angry?" I said, "A little." I sent her a picture of myself below, and she called me crazy. I said, "You're the crazy one! Can't I see the real thing but not a picture?" We chatted like that, on and off, until I fell asleep.

The next day was still tough, and we only exchanged a few brief words.

On the morning of the third day, she suddenly called me and asked me to pick her up at the station. I asked her which station. She said, "Of course, it's your station. Or is it mine?"

I was thrilled and drove to the station. From afar, I saw her wearing a red coat and flesh-colored stockings, looking absolutely stunning. In the car, I asked her what she wanted. She said, "I'm not welcome." I said, "Of course I'm welcome." She pinched my ear and said, "I think you're afraid I'll check up on you."

Because my parents were home, I didn't take her home; I booked a hotel room. As soon as we entered, I pinned her down on the bed.

She said, "Look at you, you little monkey! I'm giving you another surprise today." I didn't understand. I slowly removed her coat and stockings, and finally discovered she was wearing sexy lingerie. I said, "That's nice." She told me she bought it after I left the day before yesterday, wanting to surprise me, so she didn't tell me.

I asked if I could tear it. She said, "Sure, I bought it for you

to tear." I originally wanted to just rip it, but the quality was too good and it would make her uncomfortable. I felt bad, so I quickly took it off. Without any foreplay, I was about to thrust in when she said, "Wait, you need to wear a condom."

I said, "Didn't we not have one last time?" She said, "The past two days were my safe period, but not now." I was annoyed. She saw me frowning, knew what I meant, and said helplessly, "Never mind, never mind. If you're so capable, then let me get pregnant."

As if receiving a command, I thrust directly into her vagina. Although her vagina was tight, it was very wet, reaching right to her G-spot.

I asked her why she was so wet, and she said shyly, "I was thinking of you when I went out this morning wearing sexy lingerie, so I had a lot." I was immediately aroused, and we had another round of lovemaking.

After we finished, she rested her head on my arm and we chatted. Recalling the past, I said, "Back then, you were just a girl in your early twenties, right after graduating and coming to our school. Now I'm your age."

She suddenly became melancholic and burst into tears. I was flustered, not knowing why. I could only kiss her glasses and lick her tears. She probably felt ticklish from the licking and started laughing.

I asked her what was wrong. She said she was thinking about us and suddenly felt like crying. I said, "Oh, just take it one day at a time."

She said, "These past two days, I've been thinking about you every single moment, wondering how you're younger than me, how I got married.

If none of this had happened, how wonderful that would be."

I comforted her, saying, "It's fate. From another perspective, if we were the same age, I might have fallen in love with you."

She pinched me, "You're so vain!" I said seriously, "It's true. The reason you are who you are now is because you've experienced so much and have so much life experience, and that's what I love about you now." She buried her

head in my chest and said, "After all these years, you're still the same as when you were a child. Back then, you were precocious among them, and you haven't changed. You have a whole bunch of道理 (principles/truths)."

I said, "So you've been watching me for a long time. Now you're finally getting back at me."

She said, "No, not at all. But you were really pretty back then, especially in your third year of junior high. You were probably already 1.75 meters tall then."

I said, "I didn't know. I didn't know you were so observant, Ms. Zhou. What else did you observe?"

She said, "That's nothing. But there's something I can tell you, but you can't laugh at me."

I said, "Okay."

She said, "Back in your third year of junior high, you were the class monitor, right? One morning you came to my dorm early to get your homework or something. I handed it to you through the door, didn't I? Actually, I had just woken up and I have a habit of sleeping naked, so I wasn't wearing anything."

I grinned mischievously, "Oh, I see. I should have just gone in boldly back then, and I wouldn't have had to wait until now to win you over."

She pinched me and said, "You dare! Back then, I really wasn't interested in you, you little monkey."

I couldn't help but feel sad and said, "Can you not tell the truth? It's heartbreaking."

She said, "Okay, okay, I liked you back then. I couldn't sleep thinking about you."

2.

The longer I spent with Teacher Zhou, the more I felt her mature charm and occasional lively cuteness.

For a while, I was always indulging in eroticism when I was with her. Perhaps it was because I was too young. Whenever I held her, even just smelling the fragrance of her hair made me want to have sex with her. Her scent always captivated me, like opium, making me unable to extricate myself.

Right after the New Year, Teacher Zhou said she wanted to go for a trip to Fenghuang. I also lied to my girlfriend, saying I was going to Changsha for an exhibition and to the head office for training. So, we drove to the ancient city together.

On our first night in the ancient city, Teacher Zhou was unusually excited and even asked me to take a shower with her.

In the bathroom, she licked me and gave me a blowjob with her full and firm breasts. Although she was clumsy because she had never done it before, I truly felt a strong sense of love.

That night, my penis was incredibly hard, as if I wanted to fuck her into my body. She moaned loudly, louder than ever before, so loudly that someone next door banged on the wall in protest. She was beneath me, smiling shyly, and asked, "Honey, am I being too horny?"

I said no, I love your hornyness. Hearing this, she ignored the neighbors' complaints and moaned even more enthusiastically, responding to me and squeezing me tightly.

That night, she ejaculated a lot, soaking half the bed. It was the first time I'd ever seen a woman ejaculate so intensely.

I asked her why she was so excited tonight.

She stroked my penis with her soft hands, making me feel incredibly good. She said, "Coming here with you feels like we eloped. I belong to you completely, and I don't have to think about anything else."

I kissed her forehead, speechless for a long time. I knew that there were many things we would eventually have to face, and we couldn't give each other anything except this sex.

During our days in the ancient city, we wandered the streets and alleys and along the Tuojiang River like lovers. Perhaps because I looked older than my age, or perhaps because she took good care of herself, many people thought we were a couple deeply in love.

During those few days, we were indeed like any couple deeply in love, cherishing and caring for each other. I would feed her snacks, and she would feed me with her mouth like a little girl. Gradually, I sensed that our relationship had moved beyond simple sex, and this had become dangerous.

After returning from Fenghuang, we started arguing. I could clearly feel her growing distant, and she always blamed me for not being able to give her anything, or for not daring to abandon worldly concerns for her. Like all young couples, sweetness was followed by pain.

And like all young couples, we argued and made up. Sometimes we would argue in the afternoon, and I would drive to her apartment building in the middle of the night and call her to come down. She would usually run down with teary eyes, as if she had been waiting for me, knowing I would come to her. I would pull her into the car, tear off her clothes, and find she wasn't wearing anything underneath. I would penetrate her directly, and she would hit and bite me wildly, but after a while, as if nothing had happened, she would respond, saying, "Honey, it feels so good."

We continued this relentless torment, each time using car sex to alleviate the pain, until one late night, as I was again downstairs at her apartment, brutally having sex with her in my car, her husband came downstairs.

She had told me before that he always slept very soundly, so nothing had happened during our many encounters downstairs. But that day, for some reason, he suddenly woke up and, finding her gone, came downstairs to look for her.

When her husband approached my car, I could clearly feel her trembling. I knew she was scared, and I stopped, holding her tightly. I saw guilt in her eyes; I didn't know if it was guilt towards me or towards her husband. But I knew it was over for us.

Eventually, her husband didn't find us and went looking elsewhere. And I, perhaps out of revenge or some other motive, brutally had sex with her until I ejaculated. She went home with my semen still inside her.

After that, she never contacted me, and as if by unspoken agreement, I didn't contact her either.

During that time, although I was deeply distressed, I knew I couldn't give her anything, so I pretended to leave gracefully.

Three

. As March turned into April, a classmate who was doing well returned from Australia to visit relatives and organized a large reunion. More than twenty old classmates attended that night. I didn't want to go, but this classmate was a close friend from my youth, and he said I was practically a host, so I couldn't refuse.

Since most of the classmates lived in the county town, the reunion was naturally held at a restaurant there famous for its local specialties. Arriving there, I couldn't help but feel nostalgic. Three months ago, I had reunited with Teacher Zhou here, and everything that had happened between us seemed so unreal, like a fleeting dream. I wondered if she would come tonight.

After several rounds of drinks, as everyone clamored for the next party, I still didn't see her.

I comforted myself, thinking it wasn't that she didn't want to see me, but that she simply didn't like attending these boring gatherings. Just as we were leaving the hotel to head to the karaoke bar for our next round, we ran into Ms. Zhou. She was wearing a black and white dress with a coat over her shoulders, which accentuated her figure. Perhaps because she had drunk too much, after someone called her "goddess," the students all started chanting "goddess" in unison, making Ms. Zhou quite embarrassed. She walked over to me, but quickly turned to her old friend, the main character, and ordered them to stop. Then she apologized to everyone for being late.

Her friend pointed at me and said, "Ms. Zhou, we're rushing to the next round. Since you're late, I'll punish you by making you take care of him."

Her friend gave me a wink, and I was quite touched. After all these years, my friend still understands me best.

At this moment, the crowd erupted in a noisy commotion. I was drunk, and so was I. The noise rose and fell.

Ms. Zhou said, "Okay," and walked over to me, helping me as we followed them to the karaoke bar.

We didn't say a word the whole way, just listened to the students' chatter. Every now and then, a student would come up to chat with Ms. Zhou. It was the same all the way to the karaoke bar. I sat alone in the corner, watching Teacher Zhou, seemingly bathed in a halo, feeling incredibly small.

I left the private room, leaned against the wall, lit a cigarette, and halfway through, Teacher Zhou came out. Without saying a word, she pulled me towards the restroom. She led me to the women's restroom, closed the door, and faced me. Only then did I see her eyes; her face was covered in tears. I felt a pang of inexplicable heartache and tried to wipe them away. She pushed my hand away, then hit and punched me hard. I let her vent like that until she was exhausted. She collapsed into my arms, and we didn't say a word during this time.

I don't know how much time passed, but Teacher Zhou touched my penis through my pants, slowly unzipped my zipper, and squatted down to give me a blowjob. I didn't want her to, and pulled her straight up, but she still wanted to squat down. Without saying a word, I pulled her skirt up to her waist, took off her underwear, and thrust inside her. Her vagina was already overflowing with fluids.

I held one of her legs and thrust into her hard. She responded, as if trying to embed me completely within her. She suppressed a moan, kissing me with a flushed face. We didn't say a word, just did it, as if we hadn't made love in centuries.

I bit her, and she bit me. Her moans grew louder, but she still tried to control herself. Suddenly she stopped, her buttocks trembled a few times, and her whole body went limp, collapsing into my arms. My heart ached even more.

The party ended, and I took Ms. Zhou home. When we were almost downstairs, Ms. Zhou said she didn't want to go home. She wanted to go to a hotel with me. Just now, we made love again, she called me "Dad," and I called her "Daughter."

Right now, Ms. Zhou is hugging me from behind, reading me write about everything that happened between her and me. I feel incredibly happy. Life is short; perhaps we don't need to care about worldly opinions. Living well in the present is the best thing. Ms. Zhou

, my lovely little darling, what do you say?

(Word count: 13691

) [The End]

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How many flowers fall in dreams?

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