The Deceived Busty Housewife
Liu Yan stood not far from the door, watching as Li Jianjun gazed at her leisurely, seemingly unconcerned about her leaving. She hesitated, her usual proud nature making her reluctant to fawn over the principal like some other female teachers, yet unwilling to outright offend the most powerful man at San Zhong.
Back when she’d just graduated from university, Liu Yan had been full of ambition. But after returning to Gu County with her husband and taking the Chinese teacher position at San Zhong, she’d only wanted to live a simple, happy life together. They both had stable jobs—decent by local standards. Yet her husband wasn’t content, insisting on heading south for better money. Liu Yan had argued endlessly with him, but nothing could sway his resolve.
Once he left, life grew harder for Liu Yan. The men harassing her multiplied, though most didn’t dare go too far. Thick-skinned creeps like Feng Kun were rare. She figured she could handle it. But against someone like Li Jianjun? Her usual tactics wouldn’t work.
“Principal Li, I never imagined you’d stoop to this.”
Liu Yan gradually calmed herself, pondering how to defuse the evening’s crisis. She spoke coldly, “I hear your daughter attends San Zhong too. How would she face her father if she knew what kind of man he is?”
Li Jianjun’s mouth twitched at her words, a flicker of pain in his eyes, unease crossing his face as he envisioned the fallout if his daughter learned his dirty secrets.
Liu Yan pressed on. “And your wife—so elegant and poised. Do you really want to betray her? What would she think if she knew?”
“Enough!”
Li Jianjun roared suddenly, his face flushing from pale to green. He’d assumed Liu Yan would cave quickly, but mentioning his wife and daughter had rattled him. Thoughts of his obedient girl and refined spouse stirred deep irritation.
“Principal Li, you’re a man of vision and ability. San Zhong has thrived under your leadership these past years. As a teacher, I respect that.”
Seeing her words strike home, Liu Yan pushed further to quash his illicit intentions. “So many envy your life—successful career, happy family, harmonious marriage. Cherish it. As for tonight, I’ll pretend it never happened. No one will know.”
“Wait, Liu Yan. I have something to say.”
As she turned to leave, Li Jianjun stood abruptly, his dark cock still limp and dangling. Pain and conflict twisted his features. “Do you really think my life is happy? It’s all a facade.”
He’d basked in glory marrying Shu Meiyu, envied by countless men. But her family background weighed heavily on him, her subtle air of superiority fueling his inferiority complex. Proud and strong-willed, he refused to be seen as riding her coattails. He’d strived relentlessly to carve his own path, proving his worth.
But failing to snag the education bureau deputy director post had crushed him. Facing his wife, he’d lost all confidence. Their sex life soured—quick, joyless encounters. Eventually, he couldn’t even get hard for her nudity. Doctors found nothing wrong; he reacted to other women fine. Resigned, they’d gone years without intimacy, yet maintained a loving facade for outsiders. Only they knew the truth: their marriage was hollow.
Liu Yan was stunned. This poised, mature man harbored such desperation—the ultimate blow to any male ego. She pitied him, her disgust softening, though she could offer no real help.
Outside the window, Ma Jun was equally shocked. He’d lingered downstairs, uneasy, then sneaked to the third floor to check on Liu Yan and Li Jianjun’s relationship—only to overhear the principal’s most intimate shame. Fury had boiled when he’d seen Li Jianjun expose himself to coerce her; he’d nearly burst in to thrash the old pervert.
Now, though, pity tempered his rage. Any man unable to satisfy his sexy wife would crack. Picturing Shu Meiyu’s voluptuous, swaying mature body, Ma Jun felt a twinge of regret. How had Li Ting’s mother endured these years? Probably like Zhang Li or Cao Meng—lonely nights on cold pillows, yearning for a man’s touch.
“Liu Yan, from the first time I saw you, I admired you. I knew you’d be an outstanding teacher.”
Li Jianjun’s tone was earnest. “Your performance these years speaks for itself. I admit I shouldn’t have these feelings for you. You’re married; I don’t want to ruin your home. I’ve suppressed it all this time. Think—have I ever harmed you? Used my position to make trouble?”
Liu Yan froze. Truth be told, she couldn’t recall any overreach from him—only support. Objectively, he was a solid leader. Other female teachers gossiped about the vice principals’ lechery, but never Li Jianjun.
“Liu Yan, I know my earlier words were shameless. But I meant no harm.”
He sighed. “At my age, what’s left? You despise me—a despicable scoundrel. I just wanted to feel like a man again, prove I’m not a eunuch.”
“Principal Li, don’t say that. That’s not what I meant.”
Liu Yan panicked as his emotions unraveled. Kind-hearted by nature, she’d have resisted pure threats. But seeing the lofty principal so vulnerable softened her. He wasn’t evil—just starved for intimacy after years without. Reflecting on her own lonely days since her husband left, she felt a shared misery.
“Forget it, Liu Yan. Say no more. Go.”
Li Jianjun looked desolate, shaking his head, aging visibly in that instant.
Liu Yan didn’t budge, conflict etching her face. She bit her lip, stepped forward, squatted, and wrapped her pale, jade-like hand around his limp cock, stroking slowly—giving him a handjob.
“Liu Yan, what are you doing? Stop!”
Li Jianjun gaped, stunned, unsure whether to halt her.
“Principal Li, say nothing.”
Her first touch of another man’s rod sent a shiver through her, like gripping a hot iron bar. Knowing it was wrong, she didn’t release. Meeting his eyes, she sighed softly. “You’ve looked out for me these years. I don’t know how else to thank you. Consider this repayment.”
“No, this won’t do. Liu Yan, you don’t have to.”
He shook his head helplessly, but her silky, cool fingers ignited waves of pleasure. His cock stirred, swelling, the purple-red head rising proudly. Eyes closing, he savored the stunning teacher’s ministrations.
Ma Jun stared slack-jawed from outside. Liu Yan voluntarily jerking Li Jianjun? It hit hard. Fists clenched, he ached to intervene—but she wasn’t forced. Bursting in might humiliate her beyond endurance, especially toward him.
Watching her tender white hand on the dark shaft stirred imbalance. Two nights ago, she’d righteously scolded him for asking the same. Yet here she was, eagerly relieving Li Jianjun. Was Liu Yan just a hypocritical slut?
Maybe she pities him, Ma Jun rationalized, conflicted. Then—a sly, triumphant smirk flashed on Li Jianjun’s face, gone in a blink. Alarm surged. Was it all a lie? A ploy to manipulate her sympathy into this trap? Rage boiled anew—the old bastard was insidious.
Li Jianjun thrilled inwardly. His spur-of-the-moment sob story had hooked the naive woman. Busty and brainless, he sneered. Her technique was amateur—likely never done it for her husband. Dozens of strokes yielded no release. Eyeing her lush red lips, he feigned resignation. “Sigh, forget it, Liu Yan. This won’t work. Tingting’s mom always used her mouth. I’ll manage myself.”
Liu Yan flushed crimson, grasping his meaning. Handjobs were tolerable; blowjobs crossed a line. But his helpless look tugged at her. She’d promised repayment—quitting midway felt wrong.
Resolute, she rationalized: just gratitude, no affair. As long as her husband never knew. Eyes shut, hands on the rigid shaft, she leaned for oral.
Her glossy lips mere centimeters from his meat when—crash!—the window shattered. Footsteps pounded downstairs.
Liu Yan paled, releasing him and bolting up, flustered. “Principal Li, I’m leaving.”
Her oral consent hinged on secrecy. Exposure would ruin her reputation at San Zhong.
As she fled, Li Jianjun’s face darkened. So close to her mouth on his cock—ruined! Dressing, he sank onto the sofa, brooding. Rumors wouldn’t topple his position, but they might alienate her, complicating conquest.
Liu Yan descended unsteadily, mind racing. Who’d spied? How much had they seen? By morning, scandal might engulf the school. Worse—blackmail into depravity.
At the school gate, a figure blocked her: Ma Jun, stern-faced. Realization dawned—the window-breaker. Mortification hit. A student had witnessed her handjobbing Li Jianjun. Yet relief followed; Ma Jun wouldn’t exploit it.
“Ma Jun, what are you doing here?”
Surprised at this hour.
“Teacher Li, let me walk you home.”
Ma Jun dodged, voice flat, turmoil churning. He’d smashed the glass to stop her blowjob. Now blocking her, questions burned—but her exquisite face silenced them.
Noting his odd demeanor, Liu Yan blushed, dropping it. Nodding meekly, she pretended normalcy.
Silent, they walked to her alley. There, she halted. “I’m home. You head back too.”
She’d craved asking what he’d seen—heard—but couldn’t.
Ma Jun eyed her, then pulled her voluptuous body close, hands roaming her silky back, chest crushing her massive, heaving tits. His cock hardened, poking her belly. Urge overwhelmed: claim this beauty.
“Ma Jun, what the hell?”
Liu Yan shoved back fiercely, face stern. “What do you take me for?”
“What?”
Ma Jun swallowed fury, enunciating, “Don’t you know what you are, Teacher Liu? I saw everything in that office. Li Jianjun’s bad intentions were obvious—yet you jerked him off willingly. Why not me?”
“Ma Jun, let me explain.”
His accusation drained her color, shame flooding. Stammering, “It’s not what you think. Principal Li has his reasons.”
Her defense ignited Ma Jun’s temper. “Reasons? He just wants to fuck your slutty cunt! You dying for it too? Hubby’s away—perfect for you adulterers. Don’t worry, Teacher Liu, I won’t blab your dirt. But drop the pure act. You’re a big whore.”
“You bastard!”
His barbs cut deep. Heart aching with grievance and rage, she slapped him hard, lips trembling. “Get lost! I never want to see you again.”
Tears streamed; she was heartbroken.
The slap stunned Ma Jun. He’d meant to expose Li Jianjun’s deceit, but despair hit. No point if she chose degradation. Fingering his stinging cheek, he glared, said nothing, and left.
Liu Yan returned home distraught, showered, and lay abed replaying the night. Right or wrong? A noise in the yard jolted her. Peering out—nothing. Hesitant, she checked. At the bedroom door, a figure slipped in, knife gleaming.
“Ah!”
She recoiled to the bed. Kid’s mask, short stature—neighbor prank? Voice shaky, “Whose kid are you? Go home.”
He snorted, flashing the blade. “Shut up and strip!”
Adult voice, glaring intently. Liu Yan’s heart sank. The flower thief. Backing up, scream stuck in her throat.
He sliced her nightgown strap, baring snowy shoulders. The gown slipped but snagged on her towering tits. Lust blazed in his eyes. He’d stalked this stunner awhile, waiting for solitude. Her epic rack had first drawn him. Up close—mind-blowing. She gasped, frozen, as he tore the gown fully, leaving her in panties. Her pale, plump body gleamed; massive tits quivered.
Eyes aflame, he seized a tit, kneading roughly, breath ragged. He’d groped many, but these were prime: soft yet firm, silky, elastic, nipples pink and pristine. He shoved his mask up, chin exposed, sucking the nipple, tongue laving the flesh, saliva trails everywhere. Then teeth—biting deep marks.
Liu Yan winced in pain and shame. No other man had mauled her breasts. His agile tongue on her sensitive areola raised goosebumps. Knife-threatened, she endured, praying for rescue. Midnight—who? Ma Jun, her only hope, banished.
Regret stabbed: rejecting Ma Jun to stay faithful, yet she’d nearly blown Li Jianjun, now suffering this brute. She’d face her husband ruined. Better if it were Ma Jun—gentler, caring.
He mauled mercilessly, bruising purple, reshaping the snow-mounds that snapped back. Thrilled at monopolizing what men coveted, he vented frustrations harder.
These flashy sluts scorned him—disgust at his odor, shunning touch. Now? Naked, yielding to his filthy hands.
Suited men bossed him, belittled his job. Their prim wives paid for their arrogance—bodies ravaged while husbands fantasized vainly. He’d make them remember.
Liu Yan’s face twisted in agony, tears flowing. Her husband was rough, but not sadistic—like a lifeless doll. Pervert? No mercy for her prized tits, now her torment.
Satisfied with the marks and spit, he paused—not done, just switching play.
Pants down, thick cock out. “Squat and titfuck me.”
Liu Yan shuddered. Ugly, reeking rod. Disgust showed. He hated that. Blade waved. “Hurry, gorgeous teacher—or scars on that pretty face? San Zhong’s star—how’ll you teach then?”
“Ah! No!”
She shook her head, begging. Shock—he knew she taught at San Zhong. Stalking deliberate. Who? Teacher? No short ones. Student? Unlikely; bold peepers feared law. Ma Jun’s build alone subdued her; he’d yielded to parental threat.
Hesitating, he slid the flat blade over her cheek, chuckling. “C’mon, babe. Patience thin. Serve with those udders. Make me cum, maybe I’ll go. Or…”
Liu Yan schemed: post-cum refractory. Titfuck to end it, save penetration—her final line. Resistance risked worse brutality. Terrified, she knelt, cupping her massive tits around his stinking shaft. Clean-freak nausea hit; humiliation burned. Never done this for hubby—first time for a stranger.
Her plush titflesh gripped him. This haughty teacher, now squatting subservient—ecstasy. San Zhong elite? Bowing to his dick. Soon, bureau wives, leaders’ spouses—all conquered. Gu County’s true king.
Grabbing her hair, he thrust wildly, pussy-fucking her cleavage. Climax neared. Panic—he tried pulling free, but her tits clamped, grinding his glans. He roared, erupting.
Hot semen splattered her white tits, face, even mouth. Rank taste gagged her; she retched, tears of shame flowing. Nightmare night: Ma Jun’s witness, tits abused, forced titfuck. Principles crumbled.
“Fuck, you’re such a slut. Hubby titfuck you often?”
He shook residual cum, grumbling. Planned pussy creampie—her tits too much.
Liu Yan clutched her gown, shielding. “Satisfied? Leave now.”
Bottom line held—no penetration. Small mercy.
“Easy, teach. Night’s young. Hubby’s gone—let’s play. Lick me clean.”
Shaking his semi.
“You bastard!”
Tricked! No mercy—just to coax titfuck. Fury overtook fear; she clawed his cock, drawing bloody gashes.
Hiss! He yelped, dropping the knife, clutching his dick.
She’d ravaged many compliant wives—knife ensured obedience. Complacent, he’d underestimated her fire.
Liu Yan snatched the blade, slashing wildly. He blocked—gash on hand, blood spurting. Panicked, pants up, he fled bedroom, crashing through living room to yard.
She pursued, but he vaulted the wall, gone. Breeze chilled her near-nakedness. Back inside, she donned nightclothes, phone in hand—call the police? Dozens unsolved; exposure inevitable. Rumors would destroy her, faithful or not. How face husband?
Sighing, she pocketed the phone, cleaned cum and blood. Bitten by a mad dog. Thief wouldn’t return. Bed with knife clutched, she felt powerless—a lone woman, home echoing empty.
Husband, come back. I can’t hold on alone.
Glancing clock—barely nine. Another sleepless night. Ma Jun’s parting glare haunted. Regret: banished her protector. Li Jianjun’s pity irrelevant—handjob worsened ambiguity. Heat-of-moment folly; too late now.