Chapter 15: The Female Teacher Who Seduces the Director
After squirting her juices, Liu Yan collapsed in a boneless heap, her calves trembling nonstop as she could barely stand. Her mind spun in a dizzy haze, and between the thick, glossy black pubic hair at the root of her snow-white thighs, her pink pussy lips still fluttered open and shut, spurting out the last remnants of her fluids. If any of the male teachers from the office saw this, their eyeballs would pop right out—they could never imagine that the usually aloof and haughty Liu Yan had such a lewd, desperate side.
It was almost unbelievable. Though Liu Yan had been married for over three years and had tasted forbidden fruit with her husband Xu Zhipeng back in university days, she'd never experienced an orgasm. They'd both gotten full checkups before marriage; Xu Zhipeng's stats were all normal, and he had no issues with impotence or premature ejaculation during sex. His cock wasn't as thick or long as Ma Jun's—relatively short, but still within normal range. Each time, he'd last over ten minutes, enough to satisfy her physically, but Liu Yan never felt that legendary ecstasy of dying and going to heaven.
Liu Yan wasn't the type with raging desires, but over time, she couldn't help feeling a bit regretful. She yearned for more pleasure during sex with her husband, to taste that cloud-nine climax. But Xu Zhipeng wasn't one to indulge in bedroom bliss; he was ambitious, desperate to make it big. He'd returned to Gu County originally to partner with friends on a business venture for quick cash, but it flopped, costing them a bundle. Forced to head south for work to pay off debts and hunt new opportunities, he'd only stay home ten days or half a month before rushing back. They could no longer fuck with abandon like before.
Most times, Liu Yan had to satisfy herself with her fingers, just like today. She never imagined she'd reach the orgasm she'd craved through masturbation—and that the object of her fantasy wasn't her husband, but a student from her school. It was hard for her to accept at first, but her mind kept picturing it: if Ma Jun's thick, long cock really plunged into her pussy, would it fuck her senseless?
Liu Yan lingered in the stall a bit longer until her strength returned. She straightened her clothes, cleaned up, and stepped out of the women's restroom. The playground below teemed with students—the first period had ended, and they were out for break. She scanned the crowd for Ma Jun but couldn't spot him after a long look. Disappointed, she headed back to the office.
Just as she reached the door, she saw Lu Qihang, the gray-haired director of the Chinese department, addressing the room. "I just came back from a meeting at the principal's office. This year's title evaluations have started. Take a look at the documents yourselves. If you qualify, fill out the application forms quick and drop them by my office later."
He strolled out with hands clasped behind his back.
Liu Yan froze. Li Jianjun had only mentioned the title evaluations last night, and now they were underway? Remembering how she'd jerked him off only for Ma Jun to barge in midway, she wondered if Li Jianjun would hold a grudge and block her intermediate title bid. Anxious, she returned to her seat. Beside her, Zhang Yang handed over a photocopied file with a smile. "Take a look, Teacher Liu. I think you qualify. Better apply soon—every year counts."
"Why aren't you applying, Teacher Zhang?"
Liu Yan took the file, puzzled by Zhang Yang's calm face. He'd held intermediate for years; he should've gone senior long ago.
"Nah, forget me. Not up to snuff. No point embarrassing myself."
Zhang Yang gave a wry smile and shook his head helplessly, as if harboring some unspeakable trouble.
Liu Yan pored over the file. Middle school teacher titles ranged from senior, intermediate, to junior. As a college grad, she'd started at junior upon joining San Zhong. Intermediate required just three years' service—she qualified on paper.
But in reality, with tons of applicants and limited slots, the education bureau used detailed quantitative scoring. Scores determined selection from the pool.
Liu Yan checked the criteria. Her short tenure was a slight drag, and her annual reviews weren't outstanding. But last year's journal paper would add points, and her degree gave an edge. She might rank decently.
Still, she knew rankings were advisory; Principal Li Jianjun had the final say. She wasn't going back to him, though. Last night's handjob stemmed from pity, not a deal. If it meant selling her dignity for intermediate, she'd pass.
As she filled the form, Li Wen sauntered by with her completed one, sniffing. "Teacher Liu, save your effort. I've been here seven or eight years and just got intermediate. You think you can snag it after a few? In a rush much?"
She swayed out, her perky ass twitching.
Li Wen was decent-looking but just a vocational grad—must've pulled strings to get into San Zhong. Her teaching sucked, no real achievements. Despite years of applying, she always ranked last. Seeing Liu Yan apply rubbed her wrong.
Liu Yan bristled at the jab but just smiled faintly and kept filling the form. Best revenge? Ignore the bitch. Arguing would drag her down to gutter level—she wouldn't stoop to screeching like a fishwife.
Finishing the last stroke, Liu Yan double-checked, then headed to the adjacent director's office and handed it to Lu Qihang.
Lu Qihang, the veteran director, had his office stacked with books, walls lined with his calligraphy—earthy and profound. He was the second man after Zhang Yang that Liu Yan actually liked, though it was just professional respect, no romance.
Peering through thick reading glasses, Lu Qihang scrutinized her form, muttering under his breath. Finally, he looked up. "Teacher Liu, first time for intermediate? You know how many apply each year—cutthroat competition. Some wait four or five years. Don't set your hopes too high. Treat it as practice. You're young; plenty of shots ahead, right?"
His words echoed Li Wen's skepticism, but laced with genuine care. Liu Yan warmed, smiling sweetly. "I get it, Director Lu. Wasn't banking on it anyway—just testing the waters. If I make it, great; if not, no sweat. I believe hard work pays off eventually."
Satisfied, Lu Qihang nodded. He liked this young, beautiful teacher. Aloof and not chatty, but diligent, highly educated, passionate about teaching—a diamond in the rough.
"Teacher Liu, you've been here three-plus years. Since we've got a moment, let me share a few thoughts. School's simpler than the outside world, but it's a micro-society. Folks here must tolerate, adapt, learn from each other to grow. I know you're from a top uni—might look down on us vocational grads. But they dominate here. Can't just buddy up with the few college folks, can you?"
Liu Yan flushed. She did disdain low-education teachers—not just degrees, but their mediocrity, backstabbing, slacking. Perverts like Feng Kun harassing women. Her pride made her avoid them.
Seeing her silence, Lu Qihang chuckled kindly. "Little Liu, as the saying goes: reeds grow straight amid hemp without training; white jade blackens in coal dye. Sure, they've got flaws, but environment forces it. Teachers aren't saints—we gotta feed families, raise kids. See things from their side. Don't be so idealistic. Get along better, and I could push you for year-end outstanding. Bigger shot at the title, eh?"
As director, Lu Qihang controlled outstanding slots in the department. Some directors sold them outright, but he hated that—consulted widely, weighed opinions. He favored Liu Yan, but colleagues (especially women) trashed her. Li Wen even gossiped she was messing with guys, ruining morale.
Lu Qihang dismissed most of it as bullshit, but Liu Yan had issues: stunning looks, revealing clothes sparking male fantasies—even he occasionally eyed her busty, curvy figure improperly, let alone younger studs.
He'd hinted she dress conservatively to dodge rumors, but she ignored him, strutting in sundresses baring legs and jiggling tits, drawing stares. Headache-inducing, but helpless.
Today's outfit pleased him: shirt and jeans, no bare arms or thighs. Otherwise, he'd shoo her out quick, no heart-to-heart. Still, those massive tits strained the shirt, outlining full rounds—threatening to burst any second.
His words touched Liu Yan. After recent events, she'd reflected: too harsh on others? Especially Ma Jun—nagging him to study, curb fantasies, ignoring teen hormones. Guide, don't suppress. She'd just masturbated to him—why demand perfection from a 15-year-old? He cared sincerely; she'd slapped him. How hurt was he?
"I understand, Director Lu. Thank you."
Her eyes brightened; she knew how to face Ma Jun now. Grateful nod to Lu Qihang—not enough. She bowed deeply. Disaster struck: as she straightened, the top shirt button popped. Fabric snapped apart, revealing black-bra-clad snowy tits. Lu Qihang gawked, stunned.
"Ah!" Liu Yan blushed furiously, face burning. Mortified, she clutched her chest. "Director Lu, sorry! Not on purpose. Shirt's poor quality—please don't misunderstand."
Right after his outstanding eval talk—this looked bad.
No seduction intent here.
Seeing her fluster, Lu Qihang recovered, chuckling. "No worries, Teacher Liu. Be careful buying clothes. My daughter's your age, a bit chubby—buttons pop on her too. Used to it."
He fished a safety pin from his stationery box, set it on the desk, and picked up an application to read.
Liu Yan pinned the shirt hastily. Once decent, she flushed crimson, spun, and fled—not to the big office, but downstairs. Time to find Ma Jun, apologize face-to-face, share her true feelings. No more demanding he restrain urges. And...
Watching her go, Lu Qihang shook his head wryly, then smiled pleased. Normally, her youth and beauty (hubby away) kept him distant—avoid suspicion. Today, perfect chance to speak freely, help her colleague relations for her future.
High-1 Class 57 homeroom teacher Zhang Li had been aloof like Liu Yan once. Under his patient guidance, she'd matured into a star homeroom teacher, snagged senior title—a department pillar. He planned recommending her as deputy director soon; in three to five years' retirement, hand it all to her.
Liu Yan reminded him of young Zhang Li: capable, thoughtful, but socially clumsy. Listen to him, and she could shine too. But worry nagged: prettier, sexier than Zhang Li—man-magnet. Single now, harassment risk high. Hard to focus like Zhang Li.
The department once had a pretty, diligent young teacher seeking his advice often—like Zhang Li, bright future. Too beautiful, teased by males, she hooked up with a married guy. Wife stormed the school; she quit in disgrace.
Lu Qihang sighed. Nowadays, attractive teachers chased admins for shortcuts, not teaching. Rare gems like Liu Yan who studied craft—hope she stayed pure.
Deep in thought, the door creaked. A sexy figure swept in on a perfume wave. Li Wen. Low-cut sundress baring white tits and thighs. Lu Qihang frowned, averted eyes. "Teacher Li, what now? You submitted already."
"Director Lu, got something to discuss."
Li Wen smiled seductively, sidling close—thigh brushing his. Pouting, "I've applied for intermediate years, always last. Talk to the school for me?"
Lu Qihang sneered inwardly. This flirt dressed to kill, ignored teaching despite his warnings. Now title time, playing catch-up. "Teacher Li, I'm just department head. Leaders handle evals—I can't help. Try elsewhere."
Thirsty from chatting Liu Yan, he reached for his cup—brushed Li Wen's silky arm. Stiffened, gulped tea to hide fluster. Fifties, but normal man—young beauty's touch stirred him.
Li Wen's eyes gleamed, spotting weakness. Grabbed his cup. "Let me refill, Director." Fingers gripped his hand, traced his palm flirtatiously. As director, he had pull; her charms worth it.
Shocked at her boldness, Lu Qihang yanked free—tea splashed his pants. Face darkening, "Teacher Li, self-respect! Mind your position."
Li Wen paled at his anger, eyes welling. Whimpering, "My fault, Director. Too desperate. Waited four-five years for intermediate—mocked behind back. Even hubby despises me, beats me. See? His bruises."
She hiked her skirt: purple bruise on plump thigh root, stark against pale skin.
Lu Qihang glanced instinctively, turned away fast. Her tear-streaked pity softened him; feared rumors. Sighing, "Alright, no crying. We'll talk it out. Tears fix nothing."
Voice gentler, Li Wen sniffled. "I know it's tricky, but desperate times. I'll improve, follow your lead. Pull for me this time?"
She stood prettily, teary eyes pleading—pitifully alluring. His heart skipped; warned himself: daughter's age, subordinate—scandal suicide. Sternly, "Go back. I'll think."
Seeing rejection, Li Wen bit her lip, knelt. "Please, Director. Anything."
She'd resolved: snag intermediate. Beat Liu Yan; titles meant pay, perks—huge gap. Big spender, hubby's low-pay gov job—no bribes for leaders. Only Lu Qihang.
Lu Qihang panicked, reached to help—hand dove into her neckline, seized hot, full tit. Electric jolt; he yanked back. Li Wen pinned his arm. "Touch away, Director—if you help. No one knows."
"Why this?"
Trouble. Refuse, who knows her next stunt? "Fine, I'll help. Let go."
Li Wen rose, expectant. He was honest, kept word. Leaders untrustworthy—might fuck her for nothing.
Lu Qihang exhaled, checked door—clear. "I'll list you on two provincial journal papers. Add my education reform book too. Rest's on you."
Li Wen beamed. Perfect—high-score pubs she lacked. Might actually get it. Tears anew, grateful. "Thank you, Director! Don't know how to repay."
Just leave, he thought. "One-time deal. Walk your path wisely."
"Watch me, Director."
Eyes on his wet pants, guilty, she grabbed a towel from the rack, squatted to wipe.
He tried stopping—saw her swaying white tits in the dress. Froze. Tit memory throbbed his heart; dormant cock stirred, tenting pants.
Li Wen noticed mid-wipe, cheeks warming. But he'd helped huge; owed something. Grit teeth, unzipped him, fished out purple-black cock—longer than hubby's. Seductive smile, she engulfed it in her cherry mouth.
Lu Qihang blindsided. By reaction time, she bobbed expertly. "Li Wen! Stop! Can't do this!"
No turning back. Ignored, sucked deeper, tongue swirling sensitive ridge, hands fondling balls. She'd tried all with hubby—blowjobs, tits, ass—pro moves, no hangups. Old director's dick? Thrilling novelty.
Lu Qihang resisted at first, but weakened, panting hard. Proper man, vanilla wife sex—no flair. Never dreamed a hot young teacher slurping his cock. Tight mouth suction, electric tingles crumbled morals. Eyes shut, surrendered to her carnal trap.
Liu Yan exited the office building, heard heels clicking from second-floor hall. Glanced up: Li Wen from big office, into Lu Qihang's. Odd—submitted already? Quitting?
Nah, Li Wen relentless. Probably begging favors. Would he? Liu Yan smiled lightly, dismissed her. Straight to High-1 Class 57 door, stopped a boy entering. "Excuse me, is Ma Jun here? Liu Yan, Class 56 Chinese teacher. Need to talk."
He knew the famous beauty, ogled her shirt-bound tits, blushing stutter. "Teacher Liu, Ma Jun's in the bathroom maybe? Want me to fetch?"
"Please."
She nodded; he bolted like on orders. Minutes later, panting back. "Checked—no Ma Jun. Search elsewhere?"
"Nah, later."
Disappointed yet relieved—she'd psyched for apology, dreaded rejection. Masturbation shame. No face now, courage fled. Under a tree nearby, dithered: wait or later?
Boy eyed her jean-clad plump ass, gulped. "Can't take it—Liu Yan's too hot. Wanna fuck her. Why Ma Jun?"
Porno flashes hardened him; cupped crotch, slunk inside hunched.
Liu Yan paced under tree, resolved to clear air now—but no Ma Jun. Passing boys gawked, chattered her body crudely: fuck pussy, grope tits. Blushing, no fury—teens. Bell neared, still absent. Sigh: later fine. Odd though—not class, not johns. Where?