[Foreign Teacher] (1)

(1) Encounter

Two weekend nights before the start of the second semester of my junior year, I went

clubbing at "Hardock" and luckily met an American guy. He was extremely handsome, had a great physique, was muscular, and

danced wonderfully.

With my tall stature, pretty face, full figure, outstanding temperament, and standard

English pronunciation, I easily became acquainted with him.

We exchanged names—I learned his name was Marcorossi—and our conversation didn't delve too much

into our personal lives.

He told me he was twenty-five years old, had just arrived in Beijing to work, not to study—because I said he

looked somewhat baby-faced; I told him I was indeed a college student—because I was afraid my

mature body and revealing clothing would make him mistakenly think I was already married—and that school would start in a couple of days.

Then, we started chatting about everything under the sun, about America, about Beijing, about discos…

and then, we went clubbing together. He complimented my dancing, saying it was beautiful and had a great sense of rhythm; and I was also captivated by his handsome

appearance and mostly exposed, muscular body. His highly provocative and dynamic movements

aroused my desire.

His crotch was unusually bulging; based on my experience with previous boyfriends, it looked

like he was stuffing a pair of long socks in there—just looking at it made me wet. When he stood behind me, pressing close and swaying, I could clearly

feel that large, hot mass. I was so excited that I almost reached out to touch it, but I restrained myself with great

effort .

From the moment he started hitting on me until the end of the night, we spent a full five hours together. I was almost out of control from his teasing—

when he held me and swayed, it was so noisy that we had to get close to talk. He pressed his face against my cheek,

his nose and lips brushing against my ear as he spoke, his warm breath tickling my face, neck, and ear, feeling

quite pleasant; sometimes, to hear me clearly, he would turn his head and take the opportunity to gently kiss me, which I neither refused nor

responded to; his hands caressed my lower abdomen and ribs, and several times touched and brushed against my breasts; his lower body

rubbed against buttocks and lower back through his pants, making them warm; I could clearly feel him getting harder and harder, and my lower body was completely wet.

Luckily, I was wearing a denim skirt, otherwise, I would have been embarrassed. In this way, I went to the bathroom four times.

Since it was the last few days of my period, I had brought sanitary napkins with me, and I used them all, changing them a total of four times.

Once I couldn't stand it anymore and masturbated.

When we broke up, for reasons I don't know—maybe I didn't want him to think I was too easy, too readily

"hooked," maybe it was to protect the pride of a Beijing girl, or maybe

I didn't want things to move so quickly in order to truly develop our relationship… and some things I can't even explain myself—I told him

I had to go home immediately without waiting for any indication from him.

We agreed to meet again the following weekend—we didn't even exchange phone numbers.

That night, when I got home, I couldn't suppress my burning desire and joy. After reaching orgasm through masturbation, I

wrote down all my feelings in a long diary entry. An excerpt from the opening is as follows:

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/85342.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=85342&aspx=1

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