A natural progression with the teacher

My sexual fantasy object is my biology teacher. She's not particularly beautiful, but she has a very innocent and pure appearance. However, in my eyes, she will always be so beautiful.
When I was in junior high school, she was a recent graduate from a teachers' college and taught our class biology. After the high school entrance exam, I continued studying at the same school. Coincidentally, in my second year of high school, she taught our class biology again. Of course, this time it was high school biology. In
my second year of high school, she was already twenty-seven years old, but upon closer inspection, she still had a student-like air about her, a very innocent look.
I like her!
I remember the expression on her face when she first talked to us about reproduction and development in biology; she was very shy. Of course, she wasn't talking about the human reproductive system, just that of animals and plants. The textbook mentioned words like "sperm" and "egg," which seem very ordinary now, but at the time, none of us had systematically studied biology, so we were very sensitive to them; the fact that she, as a teacher, was also shy when she first said these words shows how innocent she was! But she adapted after a few minutes, and we, being good students (we were in a key municipal high school), adapted quickly as well.
This incident left a deep impression on me because I really liked her. Whenever she used words like "testicles" in class or while answering questions, I would secretly chuckle. The same words, spoken by her, had a completely different feel…
In our senior year of high school, she got married, but she didn't lose her allure. She became even more captivating. Especially her figure—slightly plump, but definitely not in a bloated way; it was a sexy, slightly plump, perfectly proportioned, standard figure. Her curves—breasts, hips—perfectly met my aesthetic standards. Because I don't like thin women, those fashion models made me nauseous. But my teacher's body was so voluptuous, making me fantasize countless times about touching and sucking her breasts and buttocks…
Actually, she had a great figure before, but perhaps because I didn't have that kind of "sexual" eye back then, I never paid attention. By high school, I began to appreciate her beauty sexually, sometimes even experiencing a physical reaction—penis erection. Even after marriage, she still retained a student-like quality; she never had that arrogant look in her eyes. Another female teacher was thirty years old and had a great figure, but I didn't like her. She was arrogant and insincere.
In my senior year of high school, her biology class was a real treat. I could absorb knowledge while also appreciating beauty—it was so enjoyable! At night, I would fall asleep thinking about her body. I would think about her while rubbing my glans, my penis engorged and throbbing, yearning for caresses. I really wished she could be beside me, helping me caress my penis; she would be so gentle.
If she were beside me, I would desperately thrust into her softest, wettest honey pot, and she would gently hold me, moaning, "Oh...ah...so good..." I would thrust hard, until she felt incredibly good. Because she fascinated me so much. I would squeeze her breasts, squeeze and squeeze, until she screamed, and then I would swallow them, torturing my teacher with my tongue, making her body go limp. She would cry out, "Oh, oh, oh... my baby, fuck me to death, fuck me to death... ah..." How stimulating... Thinking about it, my glans grew even bigger, and I rubbed my glans faster, my mind filled with the teacher's moans and screams (imaginary), "Oh, oh, oh, I can't take it... I can't take it... ah!" In the intense pleasure, my own body trembled, my hands rubbing my glans very quickly, pinching and squeezing along the slits, "Oh... breasts... ah... teacher's vagina..." I felt a warm flow in my penis, and I panted as I ejaculated, ejaculated, ejaculated...
ejaculated and ejaculated, the image of her in my mind had become distorted, my hands were covered in my own semen, sticky and hot. My masturbation ended just like that, all because of fantasizing about her. Afterwards, I would fantasize about her in my arms, holding her as I fell asleep.
The time spent masturbating is, after all, short, and even if I were by her side, making love with her all night wouldn't be long. Having seen her real body, I simply couldn't imagine any other woman as gentle and kind as her. Yes, she was a woman with a very good temper, which fascinated me. She rarely got angry, and when she did, it was only because of our studies. When she did get angry, she was very serious, but in my heart, she was still very gentle. I
would sometimes get close to her when I asked her questions, the most recent time being in the classroom. There were many people there, and I was behind her, so I saw her bra… She always dressed in a very distinctive way, elegant but not revealing. That day, the "wardrobe malfunction" was quite a sight—
only a few boys had the good fortune to witness it. At that time, I never imagined that one day I would actually hold her in my arms. I would never believe that such an opportunity would ever come!
Actually, I never revealed my fantasies about her at school, otherwise I would seem like an idiot, right? That's how people are.
That day, in the evening, she was at school answering students' questions, and not many students asked her questions. There were still a few girls at the end, damn it! But I persisted until they finished. I deliberately lined up last to ask, and then stood in front of her, maintaining a very proper distance. She seemed quite casual, perhaps because we'd known each other for a while and didn't have many reservations.
I placed the workbook in front of her and began asking questions. As I asked, I naturally moved closer to her; I was standing, she was sitting—it was perfectly normal. It was the first time I'd seen her so closely, of course, secretly, making sure she didn't notice me looking at her body. Even though she was wearing a long skirt. (More exciting novels at www.de_deepa.com) I couldn't see anything, but I still secretly looked, imagining what she would look like if the skirt were removed. After
we finished discussing the questions, we were both about to leave when I noticed she had some difficulty getting up. Since I hadn't seen her for a few days (there was no biology class before the exam), I didn't know why she was like this, so I asked,
"Teacher X, what's wrong?" Before she could answer, I helped her up.
Although we were of the opposite sex, it would have been too inconsiderate to just stand by and watch her like this. I took the teacher's arm; she had already stood up and replied, "Uh... I sprained my ankle the day before yesterday." As she spoke, she smiled and looked at her ankle, then squatted down, pulled up the hem of her long skirt, and rubbed her ankle. The movement was very natural. I saw her feet; they were beautiful, with light-colored nail polish, pretty sandals, and short stockings.
She was simply beautiful, not overly alluring, but absolutely captivating.
I said, "Let me help you walk!" She smiled again, "No need, no need..." I smiled too, because I had already started walking with her arm. The distance from the classroom to the office wasn't long, but it's forever etched in my memory.
That evening, there weren't many people in the building. I helped her to the office, and she sat down with a smile, saying, "Alright, alright, thank you, XX, you can go now... hehe..." (A very pleasant laugh, but not like the girlish laugh of the past; it was a woman's laugh, very charming.)
I said, "Teacher XX, I'll be going then." Then I smiled at her. After I walked out the door, I remembered something and turned back to ask, "By the way, Ms. X, how are you getting home?" She said, "It's alright, I'll take a taxi later."
"But you still have to go downstairs, how are you going to walk like this!" I asked.
She was about to say something, and I knew she was trying to decline; people are always reserved. But why hide your thoughts at such a crucial moment? I smiled and said, "Ms. X, let me help you downstairs!" She said again, "You should go home quickly, don't trouble yourself." She was being so fussy, and I felt embarrassed, but she was still declining.
I didn't say anything, just stood next to her, watching her pack her things. I saw her put a few books and small items into her bag, and then I promptly helped her up. She still wanted to decline, so she gave up: "Thank you..."
"It's nothing, Ms. X, you work so hard teaching us, it's what I should do!" I interrupted before she finished speaking. Actually, she wasn't a particularly reserved person, but on the surface, she was always very proper, wasn't she? Wasn't that hypocrisy?
As we went downstairs, I gripped her arm a little tighter, and it felt so good. I really wanted to take a bite of the flesh on her arm…
She didn't look at me, but I stole glances at her. I wished we could stay like this forever!
When we got downstairs, I saw the sunset had turned the playground golden—it was so beautiful. My mood improved too. Then my heart started pounding because I had something to say, something difficult to say. I wanted to say, "Teacher X, let me ride my bike and take you home!" But why should I say that? She could take a taxi home; I didn't need to. Would saying that make me seem inconsiderate?
While I hesitated, we reached the school gate, but patience has its limits, so I said, "Teacher X, let me ride my bike and take you home!" I acted as if it were nothing. Actually, I guessed she could already sense my feelings for her. But I had to take the initiative, even though I was very embarrassed. I thought: Oh well, so what if I get angry? What's the big deal?
At this moment, she smiled and said, "Thank you, XX, but no need, you should go on your way and go home to do your homework!" Sigh, I still refused.
But I quickly replied, "It's okay, no one's home today!" Then she asked me with concern, "What are you going to eat tonight?" I said, "What else can I do? I'll just buy something!"
"How about this, come to my house for dinner."
"That's so embarrassing, Teacher XX, I won't trouble you, hehehe!" I laughed foolishly. This was exactly what I wanted, yet I still declined. But I immediately regretted it; this would ruin everything, and I might never see her again after the exams. I quickly changed my mind, smiling, and said, "Teacher XX, let me take you home. No need for dinner, really, thank you..." She didn't refuse anymore; she probably wanted to wait until I got to her door before inviting me in for dinner. So, the teacher finally sat on the back of my bicycle.
Dear readers, do you think we're being silly? But the teacher-student relationship is indeed a very serious one. Those pornographic works you usually see are basically made up. Having sex in the classroom or office—that's impossible. In real life, no one would do such a thing. If my teacher and I hadn't known each other for so long, I think even with all the politeness, neither of us would have made such a "outrageous" request.
It felt so good to have my teacher behind me; to be honest, I'd never even given a girl a ride on my bike. It was because I liked her so much that I let go of my pride. My teacher casually put her arm around me from behind, and to avoid awkwardness, we chatted casually. The teacher asked me how my studies were going lately, and I loudly replied, "Still the same level, I'm stupid!"
She laughed, "You're not stupid, you're just playful."
I said, "Maybe, hehe!"
"You should work harder! How many hours do you study every day?"
"Sometimes four, sometimes none."
"What do you do then?"
"I go online!"
"Chat?"
"I don't chat, that's for beginners!"
"Then what do you do?"
"Me?" I felt bad about answering because I did often go online to look at porn. (I provided the boys in my class with the main free porn sites.)
"Are you looking at inappropriate things?"
"No, no!" I was horrified; this was a matter of chastity.
"No?"
"Rarely, I generally don't look at those things." I couldn't lie too carelessly, so I compromised a little. I was really afraid she would keep asking.
She didn't press further: "Don't look at those things, focus your energy on studying..." (omitting 300 words of her instruction)
I couldn't stand it, so I just kept nodding: "Um... um, yes, yes, you're right. I will. Thank you for your instructions."
She was very unhappy to hear my grumbling.
Fifteen minutes later, we finally arrived at her house. I parked the car in front of her house and waited for her to get out. Suddenly, I remembered her ankle problem, so I quickly moved the car closer to a step so she could have some relief. She got out of the car and said, "Thank you so much, XX, come on, let's go to my house for dinner!" "No need, no need, Teacher XX, I can take care of myself at home." "Don't be so polite, really..."
"Oh, right, I have to take you upstairs!"
"Come in and eat, be good, okay?" I didn't say anything, and helped her upstairs.
On my way upstairs, I ran into her neighbor and greeted her, "Little X, a student?" "Yes, a student is seeing me off, haha!"
At the building entrance, I tried to cover up my feelings by saying, "Teacher X, I'm leaving." I started to walk downstairs; after all, fantasies are just fantasies, and I'd gone this far, getting very close to her. However, some things are unimaginable.
She suddenly grabbed my arm! She said, "Listen to me, okay?" What could I refuse? "Teacher X..." She stopped talking and opened the door for me. It was my first time entering her home. I won't go into the details of the furnishings, but there was no one there. My heart pounded. Did Teacher X like me? She was calling me for dinner!
No, impossible. The serious teacher-student relationship still existed between us.
"Teacher, where's your husband?" "Him? He's never home!" A strange feeling swelled within me; I sensed that Teacher X didn't have any ill feelings towards me.
I stood to the side watching her cook, and a different feeling washed over me—a sudden sense of warmth. After she finished eating, I helped her carry the food and then helped her walk. While she sat next to me eating, she kept staring at me, which made me very uncomfortable. It seemed that even if she really showed me something, I still wouldn't dare to accept it. At that moment, all my fantasies about the teacher vanished, and I lost all courage. But her feelings towards me were changing.
After eating, I thought I should go home, I should, but I sensed some strange hints from her. I didn't say anything like "I have to go," because she didn't mention me leaving. We chatted casually for a bit; she asked me some questions about myself, and I told her about my experiences, very briefly. I'm really a person without a history. There wasn't much to say, and it was awkward. Later, she started talking about her experiences, and I occasionally chimed in with questions, finding that we got along quite well. She wasn't a very serious person; she laughed often. Having the person you've been longing for sitting next to you and chatting—what a wonderful feeling! It all felt like a dream.
I felt she was no longer mysterious, but had become approachable and warm. When we talked about class, I said, "You know what? Lots of boys in the class like you!" "Really?" "Yeah." "What about you?" I smiled shyly. I realized I'm a very reserved person.
Sometimes when the guy takes the initiative, the girl is reserved, and when the girl takes the initiative, the guy starts to falter. That's just how I am.
After chatting for a while, I saw she was getting tired, so I had to say something like "I have to go," and I got up to leave. What a pity. Sigh.
She wanted me to stay, but we really didn't have any excuses. I knew she liked me too, after all, I had been closer to her than any other guy. Just as I
was about to leave, I turned back and said, "I like you!" She was surprised, and then I turned to leave, but she grabbed me. Looking into her eyes, in that instant, I instinctively hugged her! Then I didn't know what to do, and we just stood there awkwardly for about ten seconds. I only closed the door when she whispered, "Come inside!" But I didn't let go of her, because she didn't reject me. She tried to walk on her own, but let out a soft "Ah!" I remembered her feet, so I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.
Once in the bedroom, I didn't think about anything anymore. The lights were off, and the feeling of holding her gave me the courage to kiss her.
This time, she wasn't shy anymore, unlike the first person I remembered. She welcomed my kiss. I wouldn't have done it if she hadn't reciprocated.
I felt her soft lips. My face was pressed against hers; she was more real than I had imagined, though not as soft, but undeniably a woman's skin and flesh. I smelled her fragrance. Indeed, fragrance and women are inseparable. I couldn't bear to be apart from her; I was completely captivated.
We kissed for a long time, and then she whispered, "Do you like your teacher?" Without hesitation, I said, "Yes!" She looked content, smiling. A faint yellow light from the streetlights below shone through the window, casting shadows of buildings. In that soft light and shadow, her face was so beautiful. I kissed her again.
She gently allowed me to. I wasn't very good at kissing because I had absolutely no experience, so she subtly influenced me, actively guiding me, making me feel comfortable for both myself and her.
Kissing made us feel more at ease than ever before; there was practically no distance between us. I held her warm, soft body tightly, kissing her gently, then passionately, for a long time. She liked it too. As we kissed, a greater desire arose. My hands began to caress her body. My penis was erect, pressing against her thigh. I explored her body. Her flesh was so soft; I rubbed her back back repeatedly, it felt wonderful. Our lips parted, our heads turned away from each other.
I heard her breathing become rapid, probably because of my caresses. She was also touching my back, feeling nothing, just a slight itch. Then she whispered, "Take it off..." I quickly took off my t-shirt, and she helped me take it off too, then she leaned back into my arms. I held her tightly again. Then, when she touched me again, I felt a very comfortable sensation.
Her hands were so gentle. We caressed each other for a while, then I looked up at her. My breathing became a little rapid, and I kissed her, but her mouth was closed. I wanted to penetrate her, so I licked her lips with my tongue. For some reason, she wouldn't open her mouth, so I tried harder, tilting my head. Suddenly, she opened her mouth, and I touched her tongue, like being electrocuted. Her tongue intertwined with mine; the feeling was indescribable. Slowly, she leaned down, and I pressed myself against her, kissing her. We continued kissing throughout, without any other actions. I was shirtless, wearing only athletic shorts. She was still wearing a long skirt.
I don't know how long we kissed. But I felt the kiss arousing her as well. Later, she even touched my penis! After feeling her hand, I felt a strange, pleasurable discomfort. But she didn't stop. My mouth suddenly left hers, and I gasped for breath. I said, "Teacher." She didn't speak but continued doing the same thing. Because of my shorts, I quickly pulled them off, revealing my underwear. Seeing me undress, she said, "Take them all off." A little embarrassed, I didn't care and simply pulled off my underwear too, then quickly pressed myself against her.
She saw my erect penis. Then, knowingly, she touched it. I was a little embarrassed and didn't want her to see it, so I pressed myself against her, and she continued to touch me, feeling it with her hand. She really understood me. Her touch was unbearable. I hugged her tighter, pressed my face against hers, and couldn't help but breathe heavily.
My hands grasped her breasts. She whispered, "Does it feel good?" I breathed softly, "Yes!" She continued to touch me. I felt like I was going to ejaculate, but I was too embarrassed to say it. She asked, "Want to ejaculate?" I said yes. She stopped.
After she stopped, I pressed my penis tightly against her legs.
Later, she told me to get up, and then she took off her long skirt. I saw her white bra and panties, and I was stunned. The stimulation was immense. Without hesitation, I hugged her. She let out a soft "Oh!", probably because I was too rough. I touched her flesh and began kissing and licking her passionately, from her neck to her chest. Before she could even take off her bra, I forcefully ripped it off. She probably hadn't expected me to be so rough, and she groaned. I immediately swallowed her exposed breasts, completely oblivious to everything else.
I only remember her groaning, sometimes breathing softly, sometimes making sounds because I was so rough.
Her breasts smelled of sweat and a different kind of fragrance, slightly damp. It might not have been the most pleasant smell, but it was the scent of flesh, and that smell greatly stimulated me. I loved kissing that scent. I suckled and nibbled desperately. This is something you don't need to learn; everyone is born with this instinct. I felt like I was back in infancy, just kissing her breasts like that. Her breasts were so full, so perfectly proportioned. I cupped them and suckled. She stroked my hair gently. She liked it too. I sucked hard on her nipple, as if trying to draw something out. She placed my other hand on her other breast, seemingly needing me to do so.
I grabbed it with my other hand, and because I was excited, I squeezed a little too hard, causing her to cry out, which further aroused me. I became even more frantic, grabbing her breasts with both hands, glancing up at her. Her eyes were slightly closed, she seemed to be enjoying it, moaning softly. I applied a little more pressure but she didn't react. I applied a little more pressure and she finally cried out. Then she angrily slapped my head and pressed it down. I forgot everything and started sucking on her nipple frantically again.
My penis was swollen and large, pressing against her legs. Because I hadn't ejaculated, I was restless and extremely uncomfortable. I moved my hips vigorously, rubbing against her legs. Her legs moved too. I felt extremely good, but I couldn't release, which was very uncomfortable.
After a long, frenzied session, seeing I showed no sign of stopping, she said impatiently, "Stop." I stopped, and she pushed me away, pulling down her underwear. It was the first time I'd ever seen a woman's genitals. Before, it was just pictures online. This time, it was real.
She said, "Put it in." I tried to insert it, but somehow it wouldn't go in. She grabbed my penis and tried to push it into her vagina, the stimulation was insane. Even she couldn't help but moan. It was wet and warm there. After I inserted it, she collapsed instantly, and I lay on top of her.
"Move..." she whispered. I started thrusting, but after a couple of thrusts, I couldn't take it anymore; the stimulation was too much. I was panting. She squeezed me, and I continued thrusting frantically, forgetting everything. Her breasts, her body, and even her bra were all blurred, everything was blurred. Her moans echoed in my ears, and within five minutes, I uncontrollably ejaculated. When I ejaculated, I pressed down on her with all my might, which probably hurt her, because she cried out. Hearing this, I pushed even harder, again and again, ejaculating about a dozen times in total, I can't remember exactly.
After ejaculating, I collapsed onto her, feeling relaxed yet a little tired. We were both covered in sweat, the air filled with the smell of human bodies—my sweat (which wasn't smelly), the smell of my genitals, and her sweat, perfume, and the scent of her breasts and genitals. This smell, along with the dim light in the room that night, is deeply etched in my memory.
I held her for a while; she didn't move, just breathed heavily. Looking back now, five minutes seems too short; she definitely wasn't satisfied. (Now I know many people's first time is very short. If it were now, I would definitely make love to her longer, until she climaxed, but unfortunately, we no longer contact each other…) But she was still very gentle with me, lightly stroking my hair and back. She truly liked me; it seems we spent so much time together, only realizing it to each other when it was time to part.
We hugged like that for a while, and then she asked me, "Do you like me?" I said, "Yes."
Then we talked for a long time, very close to each other, almost naked. Suddenly, our relationship warmed up; she treated me like a younger brother, talking to me a lot. When she checked the time, she anxiously urged me to leave, saying our parents must be worried. I said they weren't home and I didn't want to leave her. Then she caressed me, and I said I liked it that way. Later, I pathetically confessed everything, telling her about my long-standing crush on her. She just said I was bad.
The room had air conditioning, and we soon felt cold. She covered me with a towel and then waddled out to take a shower. When I woke up again, it was already daytime. Looking back, I was such a waste; I slept too soundly. Otherwise, it would have been so much better to spend the night with her! I wonder if I'll ever meet another woman who fascinates me like she does—so gentle, so kind…
After waking up, I took a shower and hurriedly left her house. It all felt like a dream! It was so great!

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A natural progression with the teacher

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