The night had fallen over the Spirit Hall, casting long, dancing shadows across the opulent corridors. Song Qing found himself standing outside the familiar, heavy doors of his teacher, the Pope Bibi Dong's private chambers. Tonight felt different. Tonight, the usual undercurrent of unspoken tension and simmering affection felt like it was about to break the surface.
He took a deep breath, his heart thumping a little faster than usual. Tonight, he wasn't just here for a strategic discussion or a silent, comfortable presence in the same room. Tonight, he had a different agenda. A more… personal one.
He gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a few strategically placed soul lamps casting a warm and intimate ambiance. Bibi Dong was already in bed, the silken covers pulled up to her chest, her long, rose pink hair spread out across the pillow like a raven's wing. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be asleep.
But Song Qing knew better. He had spent enough nights in this room, lying beside her, to know the subtle signs. The slight tension in her shoulders, the almost imperceptible stillness of her breathing – she was awake.
He moved silently to the side of the bed and carefully lay down beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. For a moment, they lay there in comfortable silence, the familiar closeness settling between them. But tonight, Song Qing didn't remain still. Tonight, he had a plan.
A plan that made his heart pound with a mixture of nervousness and a thrill he couldn't quite name.
Hesitantly, shyly, yet with a newfound resolve, Song Qing's hand crept out from under the covers. His little fingers, still possessing a youthful softness, gently brushed against the silken fabric of Bibi Dong's nightgown. He paused, a blush creeping up his neck, waiting for any sign of rejection. But Bibi Dong remained still, her breathing even.
Emboldened, Song Qing's touch grew a little more confident. His hand gently traced the curve of her shoulder, the smooth silk of her gown feeling luxurious beneath his fingertips. He could feel the warmth radiating from her body, a comforting and strangely exciting heat.
He then consciously, deliberately, began to explore. His hand moved down her arm, lingering for a moment on the delicate curve of her elbow before continuing its descent. He reached her hand, lying still on the covers, and gently intertwined his fingers with hers. Her hand was warm, surprisingly soft, and he squeezed it gently.
Still, Bibi Dong remained silent, seemingly lost in sleep. But Song Qing knew. He knew she was aware of his every touch.
Taking another deep breath, his shyness slowly giving way to a burgeoning sense of daring, Song Qing's other hand emerged from under the covers. This time, he didn't hesitate. He gently placed his palm on the soft swell of her breast, feeling the gentle rise and fall with her breath.
A barely perceptible tremor ran through Bibi Dong's body, a subtle sign that she was indeed awake and aware of his actions. But she didn't pull away. She didn't stop him.
'She's letting me,' Song Qing thought, a wave of exhilaration washing over him, mixed with a lingering sense of disbelief.
He leaned closer, his lips just inches from her ear, and whispered softly, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room. "Teacher… I know you're awake."
He paused, waiting for a response. None came.
He continued, his voice gaining a touch more confidence. "And I also know that what I'm doing right now… it's probably very disrespectful."
Another pause. Still no reaction.
"But I'm going to keep doing it anyway," he whispered, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh beneath his palm, feeling the subtle hardening of her nipple under his touch. "Because… I like you, Teacher."
He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable reprimand, the sharp words, the icy dismissal. But instead, he felt a slight shift in her body, a subtle leaning towards him.
Emboldened further, a small, shy smile touched his lips. "And I think… I think you like me too. Or else," he chuckled softly, "you probably would have killed me by now."
He slipped his hand further under the covers, his fingers now tracing the delicate curve of her waist, feeling the smooth skin beneath her nightgown. He then moved his other hand, the one holding hers, and gently brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.
"Tonight," he whispered, his voice filled with a newfound determination, "tonight, I'm going to make you admit it to me, Teacher. I'm going to make you admit that you like me too."
He carefully slipped his hand further beneath her gown, his fingers now finding the soft, yielding flesh of her thigh. He gently stroked it, feeling the warmth and smoothness of her skin.
"A very close friend of mine," he murmured, a fond smile in his voice as he thought of a certain mischievous spirit master, "she taught me that sometimes, to have an even closer relationship with a woman who likes you, you need to let go of your restraints. You need to become… more dominant."
And with those words, Song Qing's shyness seemed to recede further, replaced by a burgeoning sense of confidence and a determined glint in his eyes. He gently rolled onto his side, facing her, his body now pressed against hers. He could feel the soft curves of her body against him, the warmth radiating from her, and his own body began to stir with a feeling he had only just begun to understand.
He reached out with both hands now, his fingers finding the hem of her nightgown. Slowly, deliberately, he began to lift it, his gaze never leaving her still face. He could feel the soft fabric sliding up her legs, revealing the smooth, pale skin beneath.
He continued to lift the gown, past her waist, past her stomach, until it was bunched around her chest, revealing the breathtaking sight of her naked body to his eager eyes.
Bibi Dong's body was even more stunning than he had imagined. Her skin was flawless, smooth and radiant in the dim light. Her breasts were full and perfectly shaped, their nipples already erect and begging for his touch. Her waist was narrow and defined, flaring out gently to her curvaceous hips. Her legs were long and slender, their lines elegant and alluring.
Song Qing's breath hitched in his throat. He had seen many beautiful women in his life, but Bibi Dong possessed a unique allure, a powerful combination of regal beauty and sensual grace that left him utterly captivated.
He reached out, his hands trembling slightly, and gently cupped her breasts, his thumbs stroking her already hard nipples. Bibi Dong finally let out a soft gasp, a small sound that sent a shiver of excitement down Song Qing's spine.
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his heart pounding in his chest. Her lips were soft and warm, and she didn't pull away. Encouraged, he deepened the kiss, gently exploring the inside of her mouth with his tongue.
Bibi Dong finally responded, her lips parting slightly, her own tongue meeting his in a tentative dance. Her hands, which had been lying still on the covers, slowly rose and gently tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more demanding. Song Qing's hands continued to explore her body, tracing the curves of her waist, the flare of her hips, the smooth skin of her inner thighs.
He broke the kiss, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of shyness and an undeniable desire. Bibi Dong's eyes were now open, her gaze fixed on him, filled with a complex mix of surprise, vulnerability, and a burgeoning desire of her own.
"Teacher…" Song Qing whispered, his voice husky with emotion.
He didn't wait for a response. He leaned down and gently kissed her neck, then moved lower, his lips tracing a path down her chest, lingering on the sensitive skin between her breasts. He then moved lower still, his lips and tongue now teasing one of her erect nipples.
Bibi Dong let out a soft moan, her hands tightening in his hair. Her body began to move beneath him, a subtle undulation that spoke volumes of her growing arousal.
Emboldened by her reaction, Song Qing's confidence grew. He continued his exploration, his hands and lips mapping every inch of her exquisite body. He gently turned her onto her stomach, his gaze lingering on the beautiful curve of her spine and the tempting swell of her buttocks.
A mischievous glint sparked in Song Qing's eyes. That friend's advice echoed again… 'A little dominant…'
Hesitantly at first, still tinged with shyness, but overlaid with a determined grin, he raised his hand. Gently, playfully, yet with deliberate intent, he brought his palm down on the soft, rounded curve of her buttock. Not hard, just a firm, startling tap.
Smack.
The sound was soft, intimate in the quiet room.
A sharp intake of breath hissed through Bibi Dong's teeth, followed by a surprised gasp.
Song Qing froze. 'Too far? Did I misread everything?' Panic flared briefly.
But then… he felt it. Her hips arched instinctively, subtly pressing back against his lingering hand. A silent invitation. A plea for more?
A fresh wave of hot exhilaration crashed over him. Not rejection. Acceptance. Maybe even… encouragement?
He leaned down close to her ear again, his breath warm against her skin. His voice was a low, confident murmur, laced with teasing possessiveness. "Admit it, Teacher. You like this, don't you? Being touched like this… by me?"
He waited, his heart pounding a deafening rhythm against his ribs. The air crackled. This was it. The precipice.
Bibi Dong remained silent for a long, stretched moment. Her breathing was shallow, ragged. He could feel the tension thrumming through her body. Then, slowly, hesitantly, a sound tore from her throat, barely louder than a breath.
"Yes… Qing'er…"
A whisper. Fragile. Reluctant. Yet utterly devastating in its honesty.
It was everything.
A wide, triumphant, almost predatory smile spread across Song Qing's face. Victory. Sweet, intoxicating victory. He had breached the fortress. He had coaxed the admission from the lips of the untouchable Pope.
Tonight, their relationship hadn't just taken a step. It had leaped across a chasm.
He gently turned her back to face him. Looking down at his teacher, seeing the flush spread across her divine face, the lingering surprise mingled with that burgeoning desire in her eyes, a sudden wave of shyness washed over him, unexpected after his boldness. A soft blush crept up his own neck.
He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a fleeting second before meeting hers again. Vulnerability flickered in his eyes.
"Teacher…" he began, his voice barely audible, husky and uncertain. "That… that was actually… my first kiss."
The air in the room seemed to solidify.
Bibi Dong's eyes widened, the remaining haze of arousal replaced by sheer, unadulterated astonishment. Her beautiful lips parted slightly, as if the words made no sense.
'His… first kiss?' Her mind struggled to process it. Impossible. This boy— this young man— who carried himself with such easy confidence, such innate charm? The one who had effortlessly captured the attention, the affection, of brilliant, beautiful girls like Ning Rongrong, Zhu Zhuqing, even Dugu Yan and that sweet and quiet girl Ye Lingling? Surely not.
"Your… your first kiss?" she repeated softly, her voice filled with disbelief. "But… what about Rongrong? And Zhuqing…? And the others…?"
Song Qing shook his head slightly, a small, shy smile gracing his lips. "I… I've never really felt… ready before. Not like this." He reached out and gently caressed her cheek, his thumb stroking her soft skin. "It just… felt right with you, Teacher."
Tears welled up in Bibi Dong's eyes, glistening in the soft lamplight. A wave of complex emotions washed over her – surprise, tenderness, and a sharp pang of guilt.
'His first kiss… and he gave it to me,' she thought, her heart aching with a bittersweet emotion. 'A woman as tainted as I am…'
A tear escaped her eye and traced a lonely path down her cheek. Song Qing gently wiped it away with his thumb.
"Qing'er…" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I… I feel as though I am taking advantage of you. I… I cannot even offer you my purity… not anymore… because of that hateful past…"
Her voice trailed off, the unspoken pain of her past hanging heavy in the air between them.
Song Qing's expression softened, his eyes filled with a deep understanding and affection. "Teacher," he whispered, his voice earnest, "I don't care about something like that. Your past… it doesn't matter to me."
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. "Your feelings, Teacher… your devotion… that's what matters to me. And right now," he trailed his hand down her naked body, lingering on the curve of her hip, "I'm enjoying your beautiful body beneath me more than words can say."
Bibi Dong's breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips at his touch. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a raw vulnerability and a deep, unwavering affection.
"Then…" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "then my body… it will be entirely at your disposal, Qing'er. I… I don't mind how you want me. If you want me now…"
Song Qing's eyes darkened with desire, his gaze lingering on her naked form. He wanted her. He wanted her more than he could ever express. But there was still a part of him, a lingering sense of his youth, that held him back from taking that final step.
He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her lips, his voice soft against her mouth. "Teacher… I… I'm still a little too young, I think. For… for all of it."
He pulled back slightly, his gaze filled with a promise. "But I promise you, Teacher. In two years… before I officially marry Rongrong and Zhuqing… I will make sure that we share a truly… intimate night. Just you and me."
Bibi Dong's eyes softened, a gentle smile gracing her lips. She understood. She understood his hesitation, his respect, and his promise. It was enough for now.
"I will hold you to that promise, Qing'er," she whispered, her hand reaching up to gently stroke his cheek.
Their intimate night was far from over. The unspoken desires that had simmered beneath the surface for so long had finally begun to awaken. Song Qing, no longer held back by shyness, began to explore his teacher's exquisite body with a newfound confidence.
His hands roamed freely, tracing the delicate curves of her shoulders, the smooth expanse of her chest, the gentle swell of her stomach. He lingered on her breasts, his fingers gently kneading and caressing them, eliciting soft moans and sighs from Bibi Dong.
Her own hands were no longer still. They moved over his body with a hesitant yet eager touch, exploring the muscles of his arms, the contours of his chest, the lean lines of his back.
Song Qing leaned down and pressed soft kisses to her neck, his lips trailing down to her collarbone, then lower still, teasing the sensitive skin between her breasts. Bibi Dong's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her body arching slightly beneath him.
He moved lower, his lips and tongue now lavishing attention on her breasts, suckling gently at her nipples, causing her to moan and writhe beneath him.
"Mmm… Qing'er… ah…" she moaned softly, her fingers tightening their grip in his hair, not pulling away, but anchoring him there, silently begging for more.
He obliged. His exploration became a sensual assault, a mapping of her entire being. His hands and lips worked in tandem, discovering every sensitive curve, every secret hollow. Each touch, each kiss, ignited fresh waves of sensation, pushing Bibi Dong further from her usual icy control. She stopped trying to stifle her responses, her soft cries and whimpers of pleasure filling the chamber and becoming music to his ears.
"Ah… yes… Qing'er… right there… please…" she gasped out when his fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot on her inner thigh, her hips lifting instinctively off the bed, seeking more pressure.
Song Qing's own body was alive with sensation, the nearness of Bibi Dong, the feel of her skin beneath his touch, igniting a fire within him. He continued to explore, his shyness now completely replaced by a burning desire and a deep affection for the woman beneath him.
He gently turned her onto her stomach once more, his gaze lingering on the beautiful curve of her spine and the tempting swell of her buttocks. He leaned down and pressed soft kisses to her back, his hands tracing the lines of her muscles.
He then moved lower, his lips and tongue now exploring the sensitive skin of her lower back, eliciting a series of soft moans and shivers from Bibi Dong.
"Qing'er… oh… Qing'er…" she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and longing.
Song Qing continued his sensual exploration, his hands and lips working in tandem, each touch designed to elicit a reaction from his beloved teacher. He played with her body, teasing and tantalizing her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
Bibi Dong's moans grew louder, more insistent, her body writhing beneath him, her hands clutching at his back, pulling him closer, urging him on. The air in the room was thick with unspoken desires and the raw, untamed emotions that had finally been unleashed.
Their intimate play continued for what felt like an eternity, each touch, each kiss, each moan deepening the connection between them, forging a bond that transcended the simple labels of teacher and student.