【My Ten Years of Studying Abroad: My Teacher and I】(3)

(III)
Although this wasn't the first time a woman had performed oral sex on me, it was always after I used gentle words and tenderness; she had never initiated it. I
know that women don't experience the same psychological and physiological satisfaction as men do when performing oral sex on women.
Women generally don't feel much pleasure. If you were given a penis this size and it was stuffed into your mouth, pressed against your throat
, would you feel good?
She only did this because she loved you so much. My heart was filled with boundless love, and as I stroked her hair, a groan
arose. She swallowed and released for two or three minutes, and perhaps she was tired too. I also felt myself about to ejaculate, so I quickly told her to stop.
I pulled her up, and she lay on top of me, wanting to kiss her. She flinched, shook her head, got up, drank some water
to rinse her mouth, and then kissed me.
I asked her if this was her first time doing this. She was a little shy and asked how I knew. I said she wasn't very skilled
and had even bitten my glans several times.
She was a little embarrassed. She then asked me if I felt good. I said nothing felt better than this, but it still could
n't compare to something else.
She asked me what it was. I didn't answer, but instead pressed her down, rubbed my penis against her vulva
a few times, and then thrust in forcefully, saying, "Just like this!"
She hit me a few times, playfully scolding, "You're so naughty!" But then she hugged me tightly, moaning.
I thrust faster and faster, and she was also very excited, moaning and urging me to hurry up, making random "ah ah" sounds.
Suddenly I felt a surge of urge to ejaculate, so I quickly stopped. She asked breathlessly what was wrong, her buttocks
wriggling wildly beneath me. I said I wanted to change positions. She asked what I wanted. I lay on the bed and said she should be on top. She
gave me a coquettish look, straddled my lap, our genitals pressed together, and she twisted and ground her buttocks, our genitals
rubbing together, a tingling, itchy, and incredibly pleasurable sensation.
She grabbed my erect penis with her right hand, stroked it up and down a few times, lifted her buttocks, and swallowed it into her vagina. She
gasped, gasped, and groaned, "So deep, so deep!" Her hips twitched and she
cried out incoherently.
I overcame the urge to ejaculate, relaxed, and watched her breasts sway with her movements. I reached out and
grasped them, kneading them, my hips thrusting in rhythm with her movements.
Her breathing quickened, her chest heaving. I knew she was about to climax. I flipped her over and thrust into
her vagina with all my might. She screamed, "Ah!" and clung to me tightly, her body stiffening.
A powerful gush of vaginal fluid shot out, clinging tightly to my penis.
I couldn't move anymore. I watched her heavy breathing, her slightly parted lips, her half-closed eyes glistening with moisture
.
I lovingly combed her disheveled hair, smiling as I asked, "Are you having fun?"
She nestled in my arms, burying her head in my chest, and murmured, "Yes, I've never been so happy."
She felt my still-erect penis inside her vagina, and the desire that had just subsided stirred again.
She said shyly, "You haven't ejaculated yet, come again." Her hips began to wiggle again.
I chuckled, pressed myself against her, and began to slowly thrust. She clung tightly to my neck,
moving her hips in rhythm, letting out moans, and kissing me every now and then.
I thrust faster and faster, the wet sounds of our bodies filling the air. After her orgasm, her body was still sensitive, and she
reached orgasm again within minutes. I couldn't hold back any longer either, thrusting a few more times, and ejaculated deep inside her, reaching
orgasm with her.
We lay on the bed, panting for a long time, not wanting to move a finger. She lay in my arms, too lazy to move,
listening to my gradually calming heartbeat, her beautiful face as beautiful as a painting, without saying a word.
I sat up and saw that the area between her legs and the sheets beneath her was damp, with milky
white semen slowly flowing from her vagina, mixing with her vaginal fluid. I chuckled, ran my finger over her vulva
, and held it up in front of her, saying with a grin, "Wow, so much!"
She glanced at the fluid on my finger, blushed, spat, shoved my hand away, and grabbed a tissue
to wipe herself. I snatched the tissue, ignoring her embarrassment, and shamelessly began wiping her vulva
. She bit her lower lip, looking at me with seductive eyes, her face flushed.
After I finished wiping her, she ignored me, turned and got out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom. I followed her. She
chuckled, leaned against the bathroom door, pretending to close it, and tilted her head, smiling as she asked, "What do you want to do? Want to be
one of those scoundrels chasing after respectable women?"
I laughed, "I've never seen a respectable woman so naked and with her buttocks exposed."
Her face flushed, she spat at me, and was about to slam the door shut. I quickly grabbed the door, preventing her from closing it, but
I didn't force it open. Leaving a gap of about ten centimeters, I smiled and said, "My dear wife, let your husband in
. There's no reason in the world to prevent your husband from entering."
She chuckled and said, "I'm not your wife, I'm your mother. There's no
reason in the world for a son to force his way into his mother's room."
I laughed, "I've already entered your room, and it was of your own free will. How come you've forgotten?"
She became angry and embarrassed, opening the door and yelling that she would tear my mouth apart. I seized the opportunity to slip into the bathroom and hugged her, saying,
"Twist it, twist it. If Mother wants to twist her child, what can I do? I can only endure it to make Mother laugh."
She spat, "Still laughing? With you, this devil, I've had my share of suffering."
We played and joked in the bathroom for a while, then washed ourselves and lay down on the bed. Having walked all afternoon and
played for so long, we were exhausted and fell asleep nestled together.
After that, we lived like husband and wife at home, but I knew I couldn't rush things, lest it damage her reputation. So I would
visit her when the neighborhood was quiet, and when we went out together, we would only hold hands intimately when we were quite far apart.
She said she couldn't live without me; she felt empty and anxious when I wasn't there. Her husband came home even less often
, and even when he did, they would give each other the cold shoulder and sleep in separate rooms.
I told her, "You can only be mine; no one else can touch you." This was
a request I had never made to my aunt or even considered for Teacher Chen.
I don't know why I made such a request, and why I felt so justified in doing so; I only knew I couldn't live without her.
She couldn't tolerate anyone else touching her.
She said she wouldn't sleep with her husband and had already ignored him; this marriage, existing in name only, probably would
n't last much longer.
In early September of that year, high school started, and I had to return to campus. Teacher Ye also had to go to class. We
saw each other less often.
The beginning of the semester was, of course, military training, but it was really meaningless. In just ten or twenty days,
how much training could those half-hearted attempts really provide?
We just went through the motions with the instructors. The young instructor looked only two or three years older than me, probably a new
recruit himself, and his expression was quite serious; he'd probably received a lot of Party education.
At the start of high school, my parents discussed having me live on campus, which I was happy to do, as it would make it easier for me and Teacher Ye to see each other.
I met Teacher Ye in her office a week later. We locked the door. Seeing that I
had brought several boxed lunches, she hugged me sweetly and said, "My little darling, you really know how to care for someone."
I smiled secretly, hugged her tighter, and smelled the fragrance of her hair, saying, "Mei'er, I missed you so much."
Teacher Ye hugged my waist tightly and said coquettishly, "Then why did you only come now? Don't you know that lovesickness kills
?"
"Mei'er" was what I called her privately. That day I said I didn't want to call her "teacher" anymore, and she didn't want
to either, afraid that calling her that made her feel old.
I said I would call her "wife." She said no, that title would remind her of her husband, and she didn't want any more
memories of him. Naturally, I was even more unwilling.
A thought struck me, and I said, "Then I'll call you Mei'er. Look at Xiaolongnu and Yang Guo, they're quite
like us. They also had a master-disciple romance, how touching! Let's learn from them, I'll call you Mei'er, how
about that?"
Her eyes became dreamy, as if she were looking forward to it, and she softly said, "Okay, I'll listen to you."
I called out, "Mei'er." She felt
a little shy and embarrassed, yet endlessly sweet, as I called her by this name that sounded like a young girl's, even though she was already forty years old. She responded with a soft "Mmm. "
In her office, I pulled her to sit on my lap, and she put her arms around my neck. I kissed her hair and
said, "I couldn't help it, I'm in military training now, and they check the dorms at night. I pretended to have diarrhea and took half a day off
to come see you. I have to go back tonight."
She pouted, "What a stupid military training, all they do is mess around with that useless stuff. I don't want you to leave! I
haven't seen you for a week, you have no idea how much I miss you."
I laughed, "Me too, but I miss you even more here." As I spoke, I pulled her left hand and pressed it against my
genitals.
She shook off my hand, slapped me a few times, and scolded, "I'm talking to you seriously, you always fool around."
I laughed, "How is this not serious? This is the most serious thing."
I paused, then said, "Mei'er, I can't come to your school to see you often, I'm afraid people will gossip. Those who know will
think we have a deep teacher-student relationship, and those who don't will think we're lovers."
She spat, "Who's your lover?"
I laughed, "Of course you're not my lover, you're my wife, but we do things like lovers."
She glared at me, then said softly... She said, "You're right. It's not good for you to come here to see me all the time.
There are too many people around, and I'm afraid someone will notice."
Seeing the sorrow on her face, I kissed her cheek and said, "You don't have to be like this.
Although I don't come to your school often, I live on campus now, so I'm much more free. I can come to your house more often."
Then I whispered in her ear, "Especially at night."
Her face, which had already brightened when she heard my first words, flushed when she heard my second. She buried her face in my arms and said reproachfully, "Who
asked you to come? Come or not, it's up to you."
I smiled knowingly. We embraced in silence for a long time. I whispered in her ear, "Mei'er, I want
you." I kissed her cheek and her neck.
She pushed me away, moaning, "I miss you too, but...it's not possible now. This...this
is school, it's not okay. If we go home, I'll do whatever you want."
I kissed her as I said, "But I can't go to your house now, not tonight either. I won't see you again for several days
. Let's do it while no one's around at noon. I brought lunch, so we don't have to eat out."
She said, embarrassed and annoyed, "So that's why you brought lunch. I thought you were being kind to me, but it turns out you were
planning this. Humph, I'm not eating."
I grinned, "You can skip lunch, but you can't skip love." I then kissed her bright red lips
.
She struggled to stop me, her lips tightly pressed together, her teeth clenched, pushing me away with her hands, but not very forcefully.
I chuckled inwardly, kissing her lips, silencing her breath, holding her head with one hand, and
groping to remove her shirt with the other.
She made muffled noises as if trying to say something, her breathing becoming heavier and louder. After a while, her
face turned red, and she suddenly pushed me away forcefully, opening her mouth to breathe heavily. Once she had caught her breath, she scolded, "Are you
trying to suffocate me?" She pinched and twisted me.
I laughed and hugged her, then kissed her lips again. She turned her head away but didn't struggle, saying, "No
, stop! You're trying to hurt me! I can't breathe."
I laughed, "If you don't struggle, you won't be able to." I kissed her small mouth again.
She seemed to know she couldn't escape, so she stopped dodging and just glared at me resentfully. When I put my tongue into her
mouth, she suddenly bit it. I didn't dare struggle, afraid of hurting my tongue, and just made "mmm"
sounds, trying to get her to let go.
She looked at me triumphantly, a smile playing on her lips, until she saw my pleading expression. Satisfied, she
released my tongue, giggling, "See if you dare bully me again! Now you know how powerful I am, hahaha
..."
I licked the spot where she'd been bitten, feeling a tingling numbness, and looked at her with a smile, "Don't be so smug. You're not much better off
. Look at your clothes."
She looked at herself and let out a soft "Ah!" Her clothes were completely undone, revealing her snow-white
, delicate body, and her bra had slipped down, revealing a dark red nipple.
She hurriedly tried to button up her clothes, but I rushed forward and pulled them apart, revealing her upper body, which was now bare
, exposing a snow-white, voluptuous figure, clad only in a askew bra.
Her face flushed crimson, and she tried to snatch her clothes back, but I tossed them onto the table. She turned to retrieve them, but I
grabbed her, placing my hand on the clasp of her bra at the back, and chuckled, "Little lady, still trying to escape? Just give in to me now
." With a swift movement, I removed her bra, which fell to the ground.
She let out another soft "Ah," covering her breasts with her hands, her face growing even redder as she looked at me with shame and anger.
I whispered in her ear, "Good wife, time is running out. Don't struggle in vain. Just give in to
me." I then kissed her neck and stroked her back.
She tilted her head back slightly, her hands gradually releasing her breasts, wrapping her arms around my neck, letting out a soft moan.
I turned her around so her hands were on the table, her large buttocks raised high. I pulled her trousers and underwear
down to her feet, and removed my own clothes. Without further ado, I thrust my hard, erect penis into
her, beginning slow, then gradually increasing the speed.
Ms. Ye moaned continuously, her buttocks rising and falling with my thrusts. Her head was lowered
, and she gasped, "Faster...faster, ah...ah..." I couldn't tell if she wanted me to hurry or
finish quickly. Perhaps because we were in the office, she felt both nervous and excited, experiencing wave after wave of pleasure, and her
juices flowed even more.
We lingered like this for a long time, until we both reached climax. We nestled together, whispering sweet nothings, and
seeing that time was running out, we had to pack up, eat, and then reluctantly part.
We met a few times a week, cherishing each meeting, almost always spending countless moments together. Until two months later, in
November, she suddenly told me she had divorced her husband.
I wasn't surprised, nor did I feel happy. I simply hugged her and said tenderly, "From now on, you're
mine alone."
She murmured an "Mmm" and smiled sweetly, burying her face in my chest without saying a word.
Her husband gave her the house and divided the assets with her. Her son, who was out of town, found out and rushed back, but was powerless
to stop it and left dejectedly.
Teacher Ye and I both knew that we couldn't get married. She was so much older than me and couldn't bear such
pressure; my parents wouldn't agree either.
She said she would stay with me until I got married, and then she wouldn't see me again.
I said I would never get married within fifteen years, and she would be my wife. But after fifteen years, I had to get married because
I had another identity: my parents' son. I had to give them a daughter-in-law before they passed away; it
was my responsibility, something I couldn't shirk.
That year, I went to university in another city, and she followed me there, renting a place near the school
to stay with me.
Her son was already married and lived in another city. He didn't understand why she moved there. She said she was starting
a new life, a little late, but the most worthwhile thing to do.
We lived there quietly for four years, as if it were our home. She waited for me like a wife,
hoping I would come home for dinner every day and take her on trips during my holidays. She nestled happily beside me.
Four years later, I graduated from university. I was twenty-three, and Ms. Ye was forty-eight. Though her beauty had faded,
her charm remained. At my insistence, we registered our marriage in another city without telling anyone.
The registration clerk looked at us with some surprise, but not particularly strange. While older women with younger husbands are rare
, they do exist. Seeing the blush on Ms. Ye's still beautiful, fair face, radiating happiness, she
blessed us.
Eight years have passed in the blink of an eye. I've passed thirty and am now thirty-one. My parents, who had tried so hard to persuade
me to marry in recent years, had given up and let me go. But I had to divorce Ms. Ye and prepare to marry her.
Ms. Ye was fifty-six. Although she had tried her best to maintain her appearance, she couldn't escape the ravages of time.
Fine lines appeared on her still fair face, and her belly was slightly protruding. But I still
loved her. Every time I touched her body, I was overcome with desire, and we made love again and again, wishing
we could merge into one and never be apart.
On the day we divorced, I cried—the first time I had ever cried since I was a child. She, however, was both crying and laughing.
I asked, "Can I ever see you again?"
She avoided the question and said, "X'er, after these eight years of living together, I have no
regrets in my life. You gave me the greatest happiness in my life. Few women have such a fate.
But you are about to start another chapter in your life. I am old now, and I am content with the love you once gave me
. You are a true man, loyal and devoted. You must be worthy of your future wife."
I stared at her, without answering.
My wife was someone I chose from several blind dates arranged by my parents. I didn't ask why, just because her eyes
resembled Teacher Ye's—gentle and captivating. She also had a good impression of me, and we married soon after.
We got along well and were a loving couple.
But I knew that the one I loved most deeply was still Teacher Ye.
After the marriage, I went to see her. When she saw it was me, she wouldn't open the door. I called her
, but she didn't answer. I stood outside the door, waiting, but she still wouldn't open it.
I went to her house almost every day, standing outside for ten or twenty
minutes before leaving. The neighbors gossiped, asking who I was. I said I was a sinner, waiting for her to see me.
Day after day, I went to her place and waited for a long time. I knew she would eventually open the door, maybe tomorrow
, maybe years later.
I would wait for that day.
[The End]

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