Shifu
They call Jingyuan’s reign the gilded age of the great Huaxia Dynasty.
Jingyuan has been the emperor for five years officially, but he was handling the previous emperor’s duties long before taking the dragon throne. His inherent leadership abilities, unmistakable since childhood, make him a quintessential example of a born ruler. His intelligence is only surpassed by his sage character, and he’s extremely strategic. Had he not been born into the royal family, he would have made for an ingenious strategist or Shifu, who would have been coveted by leaders from all parts of the world.
I haven’t seen him since that night at the festival. I was blinded by my resentment and disappeared into the crowd without exchanging a single word. I left him and ruined a beautiful night. Back at my parents’ manor, after venting to my mother and my father, who was too absorbed in his plans for Jingyuan’s security at the school opening that he barely looked up when I carried on.
Father left to smoke his pipe, and mother did her best to calm me down for the sake of the baby. “A-li, I told you harem life was difficult. Sharing a husband without getting your feelings hurt is only possible if you don’t love him, ” Mother said matter-of-factly, carefully stitching what looked like receiving clothes for the baby.
“Mhm..I know of the dissatisfactions you’re going through. My empress mother ran the inner palace with success until my empress older sister took over because she didn’t feel romantic attachments for my royal father. But then look at my empress sister. She lost her mind and ultimately her life because her jealousies consumed her.”
Mother paused, the needle still in her hand. The candlelight glinted on the tiny tip. “Since you’ve failed to stay romantically disengaged from the emperor nephew, you must find your middle ground so you can live some semblance of a peaceful life. I know you’ll find your center.” She advised, and her advice sounded simple because it was logical.
It’s a shame that I lack logical thinking abilities.
“Mother is over complimenting me, thinking I am prudent. I’m doomed to fail in finding my center. It took the great Buddha forty-five years to find his middle ground, and I lack the Buddha’s dedication and will. I do wonder, though, how the Buddha would have fared if he had been born a female who was pregnant and controlled by her hormones, ” I replied.
My father returned after his pipe and loudly cleared his throat. He grumbled under his breath about us wasting time talking about unchangeable matters and how we should have considered these important issues before I became empress, as he thoughtfully milled through the security arrangements again, bringing our conversation to a sudden end.
I retired to my familiar bedroom, where everything was pristine and ready, as if I were going to return to it. The soft glow of the candlelight cast a warm, golden hue on the perfectly arranged furniture, inviting me to find solace within its embrace, but I was restless. I tossed and turned on the plush mattress, its softness yielding beneath my weight. The chamber, once a vast expanse that dwarfed me, now felt like a suffocating enclosure with memories of a bygone era.
The symbolism finally struck me.
Just as I couldn’t return to my old life as Princess Yueli. Like the bedroom, I, as the empress, had outgrown the boundaries that once contained me. I had a sleepless night replaying the festival night’s events in my head. I recognized my folly, and the more I reflected, the sillier I felt. Even if I had wanted to, returning to the palace to apologize was impossible. Waiting for the open house in three days seemed wise, hoping time would soothe Jingyuan’s annoyance.
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As the radiant sun ascended into the sky, casting its warm golden rays into my room on the day of the school’s open house, I was nervous and excited. Opening a new school is always a joyous occasion.
The emperor is beloved by his subjects, but that doesn’t mean his safety should be taken lightly. This event, where members from the wealthy houses will be present dressed in their best, poses a matter of security. My father has come up with a clever solution to set those serving Jingyuan apart.
All the serving members from the palace, guards, and I will be dressed as students so we can be spotted by Jingyuan instantly. Since it’s merely the open house, there won’t be any actual students there yet, so we, dressed in basic white uniforms, will stand out in the sea of finery.
It’s been years since my hair turned white. For today, I colored it to blend in with the others. Rather than adorning my locks with sparkling golden phoenix hairpins and jeweled combs, I am wearing what everyone else will have on. A simple, long, pure white sash encircles my hair, tied in a topknot resembling that of a man.
Although I’ve never dressed this way, it somehow feels natural and suits me. It’s refreshing slipping in and out of the crowds, unnoticed, without people stopping to bow and make a scene. It’s freeing as nobody has recognized me. In fact, the minister of finance just shoved me with his elbow and scolded me for stepping on his boots.
It is a long day for us, especially for the emperor. Poor Jingyuan; he is smiling, but greeting one thousand people is a tiring feat. We have divided everyone into groups of fifty to meet him in the lecture auditorium; his day is quite full. He’s the one doing the most work for the donations we’ve collected that will provide burning coal to all the schools and shelters this winter. Also, we have enough resources to build another free health clinic an hour from the capital.
“Thank you for your contribution.” I read his lips under his neat mustache.
He looks dashing, as usual. Dressed head to toe in gold. He doesn’t show his fatigue, but I can see it on his face. He’s growing tired of smiling. I dash up and stand on a chair and wave at him from a distance to catch his attention. I stack my hands one on top of the other and bow in his direction, as if to thank him for his efforts.
His eyes, widening slightly, meet mine as his gaze sweeps across the room and finally lands on me. He passes a hand dazedly over his knotted brow, touching his forehead as if checking for a fever or smoothing back his hair even though there isn’t a strand out of place. He gestures towards me, tapping his fingers together in a lip-moving imitation, showing me he wants a word.
“I’ll return shortly.” I read his lips as he talks to the guards behind him.
A special place has been set up in the Head Shifu’s office at the school for the emperor to rest, where I make warm and soothing shu pu’er tea to help his tired throat after speaking extensively. The anxiety of facing an unprepared situation, of trying to explain my weird behavior at the festival, is making my stomach churn. My back to the door, I nervously fidget, smoothing the already straight art scrolls on the walls to look busier than I am.
Despite his heavy jade belt and many large beaded necklaces around his neck, he enters the room silently and stands behind me. While he may be moving as quietly as an assassin, I can sense Jingyuan’s presence because of my pregnancy-enhanced sense of smell. His fragrance pouch distinctly smells of mugwort.
I know he’s there. I consider bowing instantly, but I don’t. Instead, I spin around, my heart racing with anticipation, and say, “I’m sorry, Jingyuan.”
To my surprise, he apologized at the same time as me, “I’m sorry, Yueli.”
We both burst into laughter. The nervous tension eases, and a sense of relief washes over me. As I lower my gaze humbly, staring at the gap between our shoes, I feel his eyes traveling down my body, scrutinizing me in my white uniform, which resembles that of a student.
Trying again, I say, “Emperor, please, you speak first,” but before I can finish my sentence, he interrupts, “Empress, you go first.” Our words collide once again, causing us to chuckle at the absurdity of the situation and us.
Finally, following a moment of soft laughter, we simultaneously blurt out, “I’m sorry about the other night.”
In a single step, Jingyuan closes the distance between us. Gently, he touches the long white sash tied around my topknot. His charming smile and twinkling eyes make me want to kiss him, but I resist because we are not in private.
I motion toward my student’s outfit. “It was my father’s suggestion, so you could spot us in the crowd, and the imperial guards wouldn’t look so intimidating. Do I look silly?” I ask and he replies, “What an interesting idea, general uncle has come up with, and no. You don’t look silly at all. You look terribly, wickedly enticing.”
I get a full-body blush when he flirts with me, then he holds out a large ripe persimmon in his hand. It’s orangey-red, like a summer sunset. “I heard you were craving a persimmon this morning,” he says.
I draw my lower lip into my mouth, feeling its slight quiver against my teeth and nibbling on the flesh as I do when I’m delighted, nervous or aroused. Besides lip-biting, I have other nervous habits. My right foot lightly taps the ground steadily and if I had my fan, I would be tapping it to my nose. I had not shared my craving with anyone, so I am surprised by how he knew to bring me the object of my desire, a persimmon.
“All the ones I found were hard as apples. Where did the emperor find such a ripe fruit?” I ask, and he replies. “If my empress wants a ripened persimmon, a ripe persimmon, I must find.”
I timidly extend my hand, avoiding eye contact, even though I know he’s watching me. I feel embarrassed that I’m blushing, as I often do with him. I say, “Thank you, emperor, for this amazing gift. I’ll savor it later.” I hold the treasure, raise it to my nose, and smile. It smells sweet and tangy, tickling my senses.
I worry he might misunderstand my delay as ungratefulness. I explain that persimmons can be messy to eat, even in ideal circumstances. Without a bowl, spoon, and handkerchief, it would be challenging for me to enjoy it properly. I don’t want people to see me as a messy eater and realize I’m not a proper empress.
I declare that years of deceiving people should not be undone by a single moment of weakness when my stomach rules my brain.
I tell him. “The Emperor must understand that I have too much at stake.”
“Even though Yueli’s mouth is watering and my belly is grumbling, it’s difficult being an empress at times like this in the face of such great temptation. But I do it for the greater cause—my vanity and because I care about what others will say about me.”
I wistfully gaze at him, dramatically wiping away fake tears with a sniffle.
“Yueli, when will you grow up? You often act like your five-year-old self.” He complains, but it’s lighthearted and flirtatious.
Jingyuan playfully teases me, his laughter echoing softly in the room, as he questions the habits of a true empress who neglects to carry a handkerchief always. Pouting, I jut out my bottom lip, slide my hands into the crisp pockets of my pristine white tunic, and declare.
I argue. “I am an empress three hundred and sixty-five days a year, but today I refuse to be the mother of the nation. Rather, I am a rebellious and spirited disciple who refuses to be bound by the confines of proper etiquette, decorum, and the burden of handkerchiefs.”
“I, being the emperor, have a solution,” Jingyuan suggests with a wink.
He reaches out, his hand closing around the fruit, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it. In his palm, with gentle precision, Jingyuan slowly tears the top open, a faint sound of the skin giving way. As he does, a sweet, ripe fragrance permeates the air, mingling with the surrounding scents. The aroma wafts towards me, a tantalizing scent that stirs my senses and causes my mouth to water with anticipation. Carefully, he peels the thin skin down, revealing the succulent flesh beneath. The fruit glistens, its stickiness reflecting the light, tempting me with its juicy promise.
He delicately curls his index finger, its motion resembling a hook, before immersing it into the ripe persimmon’s soft center. As his finger sinks in, a wet squelching noise fills the air, resonating with each movement he makes. The task at hand is not an easy one, as the fruit’s slimy texture and absence of clear segments present a challenge. However, he perseveres, his fingers slowly but surely grasping a small, delectable chunk. With tender care, he lifts it towards my mouth, as if I were a baby bird awaiting its first meal.
I glance around, my eyes darting. Outside the study, the air is filled with the hustle and bustle of people. “What if people see us?” I whisper discreetly.
My emperor husband’s eyes meet mine, his gaze filled with reassurance. He gently caresses the persimmon with his finger, a vibrant orange hue contrasting against his tanned skin.
“People will praise me for being an attentive husband to his pregnant wife,” he says, then with utmost care, he nudges the succulent fruit towards my eager mouth.
As the persimmon enters my mouth, its sticky texture coats my tongue, its glossy surface gliding against my palate. The sweet flavor explodes, enveloping my senses as if a bouquet of sugary delight has been unleashed, and my lips naturally curl upwards into a beaming smile.
“Is it sweet? He asks, and “Mhmm.” I hum in reply, then snicker secretively, because a moment of our drunken night flashes behind my eyes.
He carefully scoops a bigger piece of fruit, now using two fingers. He balances it before swiftly bringing it towards me. As he pushes the succulent fruit and his fingers into my mouth, a burst of sweetness floods my taste buds. My pregnancy has made certain foods taste amazing, and this persimmon is so good it’s making me giggle. However, there’s more to my snickering than the delight of eating. Jingyuan feeding me makes me remember a moment I thought was lost in my drunken haze.
“What’s so funny?” Curiously, Jingyuan asks, feeding me.
The sweet fruit bits and juice cover his hand. It’s a delightful experience for all my senses. I savor each lick, confessing while licking between his fingers. “I recalled I jumped you that night,” I reply.
I laugh into his hand between nibbles, enjoying the sweetness on my tongue, and an erotic picture of us playing out in my head.
The scent of his skin and the juicy fruit blend in my nostrils. While licking his hand and between his fingers, I notice he’s holding his breath. My inquisitive eyes meet his intense gaze, smoldering with desire. His flushed cheeks and tensed jaw betray his profound craving, which is matched with mine. Something about being fed juicy fruit with his fingers and dressed like a student is titillating.
I purr licking his hand clean, making sure not to leave any bit of fruit behind. After doing a thorough job, I kneel before him. With my legs folded beneath me, I sit on the cool, firm floor pressing through my white tunic. My hands rest on my kneecaps. Gazing downwards, I am a bashful student who has long harbored secret desires for my Shifu. My long, fluttering eyelashes touch my cheeks. When I speak, my voice becomes soft and girlish, conveying a delicate timidity with a hint of innocent flirtation.
“I know Shifu favors me,” I whisper. My voice trembles as I speak. “I want to show my gratitude. Can Shifu guide me on how to do that?”
I cautiously raise my gaze, but I briefly glance at his groin in a way unfitting of an innocent student. My growing arousal prompts me to bite my lip and release a light sigh. Our eyes finally meet, and my breath catches in my throat. His passion is unmistakable, dripping from his very being. The air crackles with our sexual tension in that instant, a palpable energy between us.
He speaks in a low, seductive pitch that sends shivers down my spine. Jingyuan’s husky voice commands. “Bobo, shut the door. Don’t let anyone inside,” he says.
The heavy wooden door slams shut, its resounding thud sealing off the outside world. On my knees, I crawl forward silently. I can feel the thick fabric of Jingyuan’s winter garment brush against my nose. As I get closer, I exhale into his coat, and my breath bounces back. His aroused body radiates heat, creating a warm space between us. I can’t resist the overwhelming desire to be his favored pupil.
I stare at him with innocent, wide eyes, my heart hammering. The room is filled with the sound of our breathing that’s quickening, the only audible rhythm in the stillness. My face flushes as my hands slide under his robe, innocently at first, then with determination, to touch his pants. I squirm in my seat anxiously as my fingertips find him, hard and thick, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from both of us when I stroke his thickened desire over his pants.
“Oh, Shifu.” I whimper in awe of him stroking his sex as if it were a rare treasure.
“How? Am I dreaming? How is this possible?” He murmurs dazed, as if enchanted. Jingyuan’s touch is gentle yet commanding as his hand glides over my head, his thumb tenderly grazing my earlobe. The tingling sensation brings heat between my thighs. “Shifu must dream of me as I do you. Your disciple may not be deserving, but she would like permission to take you in her mouth.” I whimper, and his cock jerks impatiently, as if trying to tear out from under the confines of his clothes with anticipation.
I cease to build tension, then a bit clumsily as a student might; I undo his pants, which are white, and gasp at his endowment when I pull them down past his thighs, revealing his muscular legs and readiness. “Oh, Shifu.” I choke on my spit. I press my nose against his skin, inhaling the unique scent of his masculinity that makes me dizzy. It’s a mixture of a clean, fresh scent with a hint of sweat, herbal medicine from his fragrance pouch, a combination that drives me wild, that makes me want to tear off his clothes, but I remind myself I must get his approval.
I look to him, waiting for his consent, and when he nods, without breaking eye contact, I leisurely but enthusiastically lick his testicles with slow, deliberate laps, savoring the taste and his smooth yet textured skin against my tongue. As I hesitate and inquire softly, my breath bounces off his skin, embodying demureness, uncertainty, and seduction, all in one. “Shifu, am I performing correctly?”
He licks his lips. He clenches his jaw, nodding at me when I return to lovingly washing his testicles with my tongue. My fingers curiously explore the rest of him, trailing along the contours of the underside of his massive shaft. I tease him by lightly tracing the ridges and raised veins with my fingertips until he groans and jerks in my grasp.
Jingyuan’s grip on the edge of the desk tightens, his knuckles whitening as he tries to maintain control. His frame is tense, every muscle in his body coiled taut with anticipation. The pleasure I’m giving him is evident in his ragged breathing; each breath is proof of it, but I recognize his control is precarious. He’s hanging by a thread as he tries to resist giving in to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
I’m impatient, overcome with lust, to give him what he needs. “Shifu, please don’t hold back. Your disciple wants to please you.” I whisper, pleading with him. His resolve falters as he sighs and pauses. He sighs in defeat, adjusting himself to position his needy length towards my open and ready mouth while placing a hand on the back of my head. He enters my mouth from the front as he uses his hand on the back of my head to guide me in taking him deeper.
The taste of his skin lingers on my tongue as I take him in, savoring every inch. A primal instinct takes over as I naturally relax my throat, allowing him to penetrate deeper. The feeling of his girth pressing against the back of my throat is a delicious mix of pleasure and intensity, sending waves of euphoria throughout my body. I revel in the sensation of his thick member stretching the seams of my mouth open.
I work my mouth around his shaft, eagerly and skillfully pleasuring him with my lips and tongue. With each deep suck and gentle lick, I can feel his growing arousal and his body responding to my actions. His low groan of pleasure motivates me to continue, further exploring his sensitive areas. Using both of my hands, I firmly wrap them around him, creating a tight and satisfying grip.
As I stroke him up and down, I can’t help but marvel at the hardness and warmth I feel in my palms. The combination of my mouth and hands working in unison creates an intoxicating sensation for him. I focus on maintaining a continuous rhythm, ensuring that his pleasure steadily builds. Every touch, every stroke, is carefully executed to provide just the right amount of pressure, heightening his sexual gratification to new peaks.
As he enters my mouth, his voice filled with desire, he softly says, “You’re my beloved disciple. Take off your clothes. Your Shifu wants to see.”
Lust causes my face to turn red and flush. My body seems to unravel. I let out a low, sultry moan, the sound escaping my parted lips, as I taste the tang of his masculinity leave my mouth. Saliva that connected us drips down my chin. I undressed on my knees, quickly undoing the waist sash and dropping the white tunic behind me, and kicking off my shoes. His gaze devours me, and every nerve in my body reacts, causing me to writhe in my seat, my movements matching the intense pleasure coursing through me.
Sitting with a straight posture, I lean back on my folded knees and spread my thighs, revealing a peek of my inviting lower petals to entice him. I’m not sure how seductive I look, but his lustful gaze darkens him as he drinks in the sight of me. This makes me squirm. What’s come over me? I quiver, licking my lips hungrily, my anticipation evident as I await his next move. Sensing my eagerness, he growls, reentering my mouth, his firmness filling me, and I moan around his sex.
When he flicks my nipples rolling and squeezes them just enough so the pain is delicious, my body lurches forward and I drool down the center of me. His touch and the pleasure overwhelm me, making my back arch involuntarily and my neck sways back, surrendering myself further to him.
The friction between my pelvic floor and the ground beneath me creates a rhythmic grinding, mirroring the tempo of his powerful thrusts. The taste of Jingyuan’s sweaty skin is slightly salty, like the sea covers my tongue, adding an intoxicating layer to my sensory experience. Surrendering to the waves of euphoria, I drown in bliss, my knees pressed against the ground.
With an increased pace, I use my right hand stroking and head bobbing, taking in all of him until he fills my throat and I can’t breathe. The power in his masculine body provokes my need to touch him. I explore the contours of his muscled backside, his tight rear dimples with his thrusts. I run my nails down his left side with pressure to leave rake marks as he gropes my breasts with his massive hands.
He grunts loudly, beastly, his voice hoarse and strained. His fingers tighten in my hair, tingling my scalp. The sound of his ragged gasps fills the air, blending with our movements. His breath quickens, and I can taste the anticipation in the room mixed with his sex. Suddenly, he pulses in my mouth, releasing warmth and power. It rushes down my throat like a stampede of wild horses, powerful and intense. I eagerly swallow, savoring the delicious and distinct flavor of his cum lingering taste on my tongue.
Jingyuan lifts me up from the floor. I’m blushing and squirming with arousal. He’s catching his breath from his climax. He places me on the edge of the desk. I lean back into my slanted arms, and my breathing quickens. He undresses swiftly, his crown and clothes thudding to the ground. I groan and rub my thighs together, aroused by his muscular nudity. The sight of the plains of his chest, solid, defined, and powerful, makes me moan with desire. Biting my quivering bottom lips, I lift my feet onto the desk, bringing my knees closer to my chest. My thigh slightly parted, unveiling a small, intimate part of myself to him.
My vulnerability is exposed to him for the first time.
I hold my breath, my pulse quickening with excitement as he comes closer. The heat from his body seeps into my skin, drawing me in. He gently places his palms on my inner thighs. His fingers spread out, caressing my skin and making me tremble. I ache for more. Every second feels like a lifetime. He needs to be thick and ready in front of me. As it glistens with anticipation, my body hums, and I tremble to have him sink into me.
Should I not be this honest, revealing my desire for him? Even if I wanted to, I can’t stop myself. I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of my wanton desire that borders shamelessly on lewdness. I brace myself for raw passion. Surprisingly, he is tender. His touch becomes gentler, movements slower. His fingertips graze my skin, feeling its warmth and smoothness. He traces my navel with his hands, savoring the sensation. Pressing his warm, tender lips to the round curve of my pregnant belly, he whispers an unheard prayer to our unborn child, his breath tickling my skin. As he seals his prayer with a gentle kiss, I feel a flutter deep within me, like the delicate wings of a butterfly brushing against my insides.
With his lips still pressed against my stomach, he raises his eyes. In the depths of his warm gaze, I recognize something that shakes me to the core. The sight grips my heart, its rhythmic squeeze echoing in my chest, both painful and strangely comforting. As tears well up in my eyes, a bitter taste of salt lingers on my tongue, blending with the intense rush of raw emotions pulsating through my veins. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, expressing his love for me repeatedly.
I draw him nearer, feeling the warmth of his presence engulf me, and press my lips against his in a fervent kiss that leaves us both momentarily breathless. In that stolen moment, an electric current crackles between us, stealing the very air from our lungs as we savor every stolen second, reveling in our connection. The taste lingering inside his mouth is earthy and medicinal, but pleasant from Shu Pu’er tea. His tongue dances tantalizingly with mine. As I reach between our bodies, my fingertips brush against his heated skin. The smoothness and hardness of his flesh contrasted against my eager touch.
With gentle precision, his engorged head gently nudges and separates my folds before he gradually penetrates me with slow, creeping, deep, and satisfying strokes. A wavelike friction swell and flows in the river under my skin.
My extreme wetness covers us both.
He kisses me. Gradually and softly, his tongue, like a velvet caress, enters my mouth, mimicking the deliberate pace of his movements below. He cups my rear and pulls me closer, creating further intimacy. I never want this to end.
“Shifu..” I groan. Sensually and yet demanding, he kisses and bites my neck as if showing me I belong to him. My body reacts with excitement as he uses his beard and mustache to stimulate me, causing shivers to run down my spine while he bites, sucks, and traces my hardened, dark as blackberries, nipples with his tongue. The girth of his desire demands of my body. My inner warmth struggles to stretch to accommodate him, and there is pain, a sharpness, and an aching, but what kind of craziness is this for pain to be this exquisite?
When I touch the place where we connect curiously, a surge of energy from the friction as he moves in and out makes me cry out ragged and loud. My fingers bear the marks of our passionate encounter, glistening with our shared desire. Boldly, I bring my wet fingers to my mouth, relishing the taste of our intimacy. It is irresistibly delicious, overwhelming me.
One taste of us merely teases me. I collect more nectar from our bodies and hungrily suck on my fingers, but the delectable taste proves too potent. The coil inside me finally springs apart in a sudden and violent rush of paradise. Overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through me, I cannot contain my ecstasy and let out a passionate cry. “Ahhhhh! My Shifu.” My body reacts instinctively, convulsing and trembling as it surrenders to the profound pleasure brought upon by him. His presence and touch fuel my climax, causing my slick inner walls to squeeze around him, pulsating and contracting around him.
The intensity of our connection pushes him to the brink as well, and I can hear his grunts and sharp exhales, showing his own release is imminent. With a primal instinct, he increases the speed and force of his thrusts, his appetite becoming even more demanding and urgent. The sound of his thighs forcefully slapping against my skin serves as a rhythmic backdrop, amplifying the raw passion of our lovemaking.
Jingyuan pulls out his slick manhood from between my legs, which are still quaking. A deep sense of loss fills me when I no longer feel his warmth and fullness. However, his lips are on mine, dominating me before the emotion has time to fully take root. He kisses me with a fiery passion that leaves me breathless and dazed. Our tongues intertwine, our breathing heavy and labored, as we both chase the euphoria that is just beyond our grasp.
Swiftly, he raises me from the desk, flips me, and bends me over it. Desperate to hold on to the last remaining strands of pleasure that threaten to slip away when he sinks into me again. The front of his thighs slap the back of mine repeatedly. His hands on my hips, dragging me into his thrusts, grunting loudly and hoarsely. He groans. I respond, breathless, “My Shifu.” I arch my back to him for deeper penetration, whimpering.
I can feel his release is close, his body tensing, his breathing becoming more erratic before he slips his hand between my thighs where he finds my swollen clit. He rubs in steady clockwise winding circles. Grunting with every thrust, Jingyuan is about to come undone and take me with him. I growl sultrily, “Shifu.” I cling to him, the only lifeline in this sea of carnal desire, as his body shakes uncontrollably and his seed spills from him and into me.
Neither of us can speak yet. We hold each other, trembling, coming down from our climaxes. I don’t think either of us expected this to happen today. His warm body rests sloped over me, his cheek is between my shoulder blades. As the euphoria subsides, reality creeps in. Someone is knocking on the door. I’m worried people might be eavesdropping, or worse.
“We have to go, Shifu,” I say, breaking the silence.
He covers my back with tender kisses and embraces me from behind. His sweaty forehead rests on me as he suggests, “If you want to leave this room today, please stop calling me Shifu, but keep the uniform. It suits you, my little disciple.”