Busty Teacher Liu Yan Chapter 17: The Class Beauty Li Ting's Secret Thoughts
Liu Yan headed up to the second floor, intending to return to the Chinese teachers' office, when she ran into Zhang Li coming the other way. She smiled and greeted her, but noticed a flicker of panic in Zhang Li's eyes. Then she spotted Ma Jun trailing behind her, and it all clicked—Ma Jun must have been in Zhang Li's office the whole time. That explained why she hadn't found him. But a shadow of doubt crept in. Zhang Li was the homeroom teacher for Class 57 and taught Chinese; it was perfectly normal for her to call Ma Jun to her office. So why did she seem so guilty, like Liu Yan had just caught her with her secrets exposed?
With that thought, Liu Yan instinctively let her gaze sweep over Zhang Li from head to toe. Nothing seemed amiss at first glance, except her cheeks were flushed and her hair a bit disheveled, as if she'd just finished some intense exercise. But hadn't she been alone with Ma Jun in the office?
Did they just do something shady in there? The outrageous idea popped into Liu Yan's head, stunning her. Her eyes darted suspiciously between Zhang Li and Ma Jun, searching for clues.
San Zhong's atmosphere had always been pretty lax. Puppy love was rampant among the students, and more than a few had even knocked up their girlfriends by accident. When Li Jianjun became principal, he cracked down on discipline, but it barely made a dent. Teacher-student romances, though? Rare as hen's teeth. Most kids were barely teens, with a huge age gap and an innate fear or resentment toward teachers. The boldest boys might chase upperclassmen girls, but no one dared go after a teacher.
Yet Liu Yan knew Ma Jun wasn't your average guy. He'd boldly approached her, confessed his crush, even smashed the principal's office window. And though he denied it, she was dead certain the boy she'd seen on that balcony two days ago at noon—the one balls-deep in a married woman in broad daylight—was him. If he had the guts for that, what wouldn't he do? She'd grown almost numb to his audacity.
But Zhang Li? She wasn't some loose woman. Her reputation at school was spotless—stern and aloof with male teachers, conservatively dressed. Pushing forty, with a son about Ma Jun's age. The idea of her fooling around with a student from her own class shattered Liu Yan's worldview.
Liu Yan figured she was overthinking it, but something still felt off. Lately, she'd been hanging around Zhang Li more, and Ma Jun was always dropping by to "report" on work. She'd caught him staring at her weirdly, and now she wondered if those visits weren't about work at all. Maybe he was sneaking off for secret trysts with Zhang Li—and his looks meant he saw Liu Yan as a nuisance.
Her heart pounded. Woman's intuition screamed that something was up between them. A week ago, she'd have pulled Zhang Li aside for a gentle warning not to screw up her life. But after last weekend's drama, she and Ma Jun had their own tangled mess. Hell, she even got it now.
Setting age aside, Ma Jun was tall and built, handsome features, sunny vibe—and packing a cock thicker and longer than most grown men. Ideal lover material. If Liu Yan weren't married and loyal, she might've fallen too. Even so, she'd developed feelings she shouldn't have. She'd thought she'd sorted her head out, but discovering Ma Jun might be banging Zhang Li threw her heart into chaos again.
Zhang Li caught the surprise and suspicion in Liu Yan's eyes and knew she'd slipped up, failing to mask her emotions. Liu Yan had been popping into her office a lot lately—sometimes for help checking a breast lump, other times for teaching advice. When Zhang Li had straightened her clothes earlier, she'd felt lucky Liu Yan hadn't shown up then, or she'd have been caught red-handed. But here she was in the hallway. Forcing a smile, she said, "Liu, where you headed? I was just heading to class, lost in thought—you nearly gave me a scare."
"Oh, I was downstairs looking for someone. Just heading back."
Liu Yan smiled faintly, glancing at the silent Ma Jun beside her. The dynamic between the three felt oddly charged. Ma Jun had been a stranger until Zhang Li introduced them, but now both she and Zhang Li shared some ambiguous tie to him. She knew Zhang Li's secret; Zhang Li knew nothing of hers with Ma Jun. An idea sparked—test her. Casually, she added, "Was gonna chat with you a bit. But go teach your class."
Zhang Li had started to leave but paused at Liu Yan's words. Turning to Ma Jun, who'd been eavesdropping, she said, "Ma Jun, head to class and pass out the notebooks. Tell the class rep to have everyone review last week's essays carefully—especially my comments. I'll talk to Liu a sec and join you."
Ma Jun muttered an "oh," nodding reluctantly. He was dying to hear what they'd discuss but had no excuse to stay. Clutching the notebooks, he trudged downstairs slowly. Passing Liu Yan, he ignored her completely—not out of spite, but guilt. He didn't want Zhang Li picking up on anything, so he played it cold.
Outside the office building, Ma Jun glanced up at the second floor. Zhang Li and Liu Yan were chatting animatedly at the stairs. Women are natural-born actors, he thought, masters at hiding secrets. Gotta watch myself.
Back in class, he handed out notebooks to the group leaders and relayed Zhang Li's instructions verbatim to the class president.
The class president was a burly guy named Su Jianxin. He smirked thinly. "What else does Her Majesty the Dowager have for us, Grand Eunuch Ma? Should I kowtow in thanks?"
A few nearby guys burst out laughing, like he'd dropped the joke of the century.
Su Jianxin's dad was the county finance bureau director. He lorded over the class with his family's clout, building cliques and crowning himself boss. He saw homeroom teacher Zhang Li as the puppet empress dowager pulling strings, while Ma Jun—always clashing with him and teacher's pet— was a thorn in his side. Ma Jun's size kept him from outright bullying, so he jabbed verbally, dubbing him the "Grand Eunuch" as a too-subtle eunuch slur.
Ma Jun's blood boiled; his fists clenched, itching to smash that smug face. But he thought of his mom, Song Ping, and held back. Last semester, Su Jianxin had mouthed off, sparking a brawl. Su walked free; Ma Jun got a disciplinary warning. Mom had cried silently for days, barely eating or speaking. Heartbroken, he'd knelt all night, swearing off fights. She'd relented.
"What, Grand Eunuch wanna throw down? Bring it."
Su Jianxin kept needling, but braced himself. He still remembered the beating—face planted on the floor. Another public thrashing would kill his rep.
Ma Jun's fists tightened then relaxed, face dark as iron, glaring murderously. If looks could kill, Su would've died a hundred times. Father's death had hardened him and Mom. Dad had worked at the county government, rising fast until a fatal car crash on a rural trip. Alive today, he'd be a big shot. No more holding back.
"Su Jianxin, that's too far. You can't talk like that!"
As they squared off, a girl stood up furiously. "Apologize to Ma Jun right now, or when Teacher Zhang gets here, I'll tell her everything you said. Let her set you straight."
Ma Jun and Su Jianxin froze. It was none other than the class study rep and class flower, Li Ting. Usually gentle like her mom Shu Meiyu—elegant, reserved, minding her own business—she'd never jumped in like this. The peanut gallery shut up fast, dodging fallout.
"Li Ting, misunderstanding. Just messing with Ma Jun."
Su Jianxin's face darkened briefly, then beamed at her. He wasn't scared of tattling to Zhang Li—a mere homeroom teacher. But Li Ting's dad was Principal Li Jianjun. If she pushed, it'd blow up. Better back off, deal with Ma Jun later.
"No. Apologize to Ma Jun."
Li Ting ignored him, dead set on justice. She despised Su Jianxin's bullying; humiliating Ma Jun pushed her over the edge.
Su Jianxin's smile strained. No face saved. His eyes roamed her lithe figure. Freshman year start, he'd targeted the tall, pretty Li Ting, aiming to pluck that flower. She stayed cool; he lacked force. Switched targets. Seeing her defend Ma Jun irked him. If not for her dad, I'd have fucked her ages ago. Seasoned player.
Su Jianxin lost his virginity to the family nanny, Sister Sun—eight years older. Parents busy, they hired her post-high school. Plain looks, plump build, rosy cheeks, baby fat, twin braids, pale skin, hardworking, chatty. Married young, kid early; hubby gambled debts, so she nannied in the county.
One evening, Su Jianxin got home—no parents, no Sun. "Sister Sun! I'm back. Food ready? Starving!"
"Coming!"
She emerged from the bathroom, peeling off rubber gloves, smiling. "Dinner's done ages ago. Washed your dirty clothes from last night. Rice coming up."
Her white cotton tee stretched taut over full, high tits. Wet from chores, it went sheer—bra and pale cleavage visible. Su's cock twitched hard, tenting his sweats.
Sun bustled obliviously to the kitchen, black shorts hugging her round, bouncy ass, thighs smooth and thick.
Su ogled her curves till dinner hit the table. He scarfed it, burped contentedly. She cleared dishes.
From the sofa, TV ignored, eyes on her kitchen hustle—itchy, restless. "Sister Sun, forget it. Watch TV with me."
"Almost done."
She poured milk, plopped down, giggling at the show, tits heaving wildly.
Su sipped, stealing peeks. Caught, she shyly turned. That dodge ignited him. Brain fried with lust, he lunged, hugging her soft body, groping those fat tits through the tee.
"Jianxin! Stop! Your parents'll be home!"
Panicked, she pleaded softly.
Begging fueled him. First real girl contact—thrilling. He mauled and kissed, yanked off her tee and bra. Big white tits spilled free.
Breathing ragged, hands shook grabbing them. Real flesh—bliss. Cock throbbed near-explosion. He latched onto a pink nipple, sucking greedily.
Sun blanked out at first pounce. Half-naked haze cleared too late; he was stronger. Nipple-sucking left her limp, tingling. "Jianxin, stop... Parents find out, we're done."
Peak lust—he ignored. Licked, bit tits he'd fantasized about. Sun figured kid's curiosity; let him play, it'd pass. Not a virgin anyway.
Too addictive. Head up, panting. Tits were toys. More groping, then shorts yanked. Panties hid plump pussy. Pants off, hard cock out—porn-style thrust incoming.
Sun freaked. Thought tits only. "Jianxin, no! Tits fine, but not there!"
He pried thighs; she thrashed, ass wriggling—no aim. Frustrated: "Sister Sun, once! Or I tell Mom to fire you. She listens."
Stunned—good job at stake. Froze. Cock nudged fat lips. Tip-touch—electric. First real pussy.
"Fuck quick. Before parents."
Suddenly eager, urging. He thrust—head in. Hot, soft walls gripped. Bliss. Beats jerking.
Pounded away. Sun reluctant at first, then wet, thighs clamping, hips bucking.
Accepted her fate.
First fuck—electric overload. Dozens thrusts, head swelled. Climax near. Slammed deep, spurted boy-cum into woman-pussy. Virginity gone.
After, regular romps when alone. Bribed Mom for her raise. Sun serviced gladly—chores, fucks every few days. Win-win.
Soon bored—plain, average. Eyes wandered to school sluts. Experience grew. High school: eyed Li Ting for status (principal's daughter = untouchable power) and hotness (sweet face, tall, mature curves). Rejected—bummer.
Ma Jun was stunned Li Ting defended him but didn't want girl-trouble, especially with Huang Guoxin chasing her. Buried grudge, smiled at her. "Yeah, just joking. Haha, girls overreact."
Clapped Su's shoulder hard—bro-style—strode to seat.
Su winced, swallowed it. Later payback. Glanced Li Ting, puzzled. No Ma-Li vibe before. She into him?
Spot on. Li Ting liked Ma Jun—fit, smart, not nerdy. Girls dig. That night he saved her, carried home—hero worship surged. Justice-strong, safe. Teen girl crush: pure infatuation. Silent pining, too shy to confess.
Today, Su overstepped; she snapped. But Ma Jun brushed off—face burned, heart hurt. Desk-sob. Seatmate hushed comfort, cursing clueless Ma Jun. Never seen her this into a boy.
Spoiled princess—parents' pearl, teachers' fave, top grades. Pursuit letters trashed unread—boys immature, poems lame. No boyfriend pre-high school. Ma Jun first heart-intruder.
Shu Meiyu progressive, urged boy-friends. Surprised by Ma Jun home-drop, grilled Li Ting. She dodged miserably. Hoped for post-rescue thaw; got colder distance. Couldn't ask—sulked alone.
Ma Jun sat; seatmate gawked idiot-style. "Face dirty?"
"Dunno what to say. Pissed off prez and flower."
Two untouchables—Ma offended both. He'd be suicidal.
Ma Jun awkward grin. Wanted quiet high school, good college, make Mom proud. But trouble found him.
Class hushed. Zhang Li stormed in, stern-faced, lectern-scan radiating authority. Queen absolute—no challengers. Even Su Jianxin averted eyes, deflated.
Ma Jun unfazed, distracted. Beyond student-teacher now. Recalling her snow-white ass begging his cock—fear gone. Wondered: what'd they chat about post-exit? Him?
Zhang Li eyed each face—names, homes, psych profiles, thoughts. Intervene, parent calls. Plus teaching—late nights home. One reason hubby Yang Hongbing drifted.
Ma Jun's gaze—heart skipped, dodged. Tricky now: fucked him. Old tools failed. Punishment backfired—lust explosion, her surrender.
Recall: hot rod barely in, forced end. Unfulfilled—pussy leaked, thighs rubbed, craving cock. Suppressed—for students, stern teacher eternal.
"Last week's essay: 'The Person I Love Most'. Good work overall—many on moms."
Deep breath, critiqued. "Some real emotion—praise due."
Named kids, smiled at Li Ting. "Li Ting's best: heartfelt, substantial—model essay. Read it aloud for study."
Applause. Blushing, Li Ting stood, read. On mom Shu Meiyu—not drudgery tropes, but violin lessons: gentle-mom, strict-teacher. Resistance to revelation.
"When I played my first piece, that melody ringing out, Mom smiled proudly. That moment, I knew her strictness led here. And I thought of our gardeners—stern shells hide motherly hearts. Mothers like teachers, teachers like mothers. To those loving me silently: I love you too."
Tongue out, sat. Seatmate whispered, "So good—I teared up."
Red-eyed, moved.
"Stop, embarrassing."
Li Ting beamed, snuck peek at back-row Ma Jun. Past essays, he topped; jealous. Hers beat him—Zhang affirmed. Essay king? Eat it.
Zhang Li nodded. "Thoughts? Moving yet natural—'effort beyond the poem'. Observe life, stock material: substance over clichés or forced twists. Stiff, fake. Now, analyze Li Ting's structure, wording."
Kids absorbed—loved her breakdowns: vivid, sharp, gains galore. Class 57's top Chinese? No fluke. Her senior title earned.
Done, eyed Ma Jun. His best actually—Li Ting good, but lacked innate spirit, technique-trapped. Deflate his ego, boost her: skipped his praise.
"Time short. 500-word short piece: memorable scene. Hand in done."
Clock-checked, assigned. Prowled aisles, hands back.
Checked kids, reached Ma Jun—pen-chewing, blank page. Odd—he brainstormed fast. Tapped desk: write.
He glanced up, saw frantic scribbles around. Grinned, penned fluidly—no pause. Mental draft done.
Curious, Zhang Li peeked. Few lines: breath hitched, cheeks flamed, body quivered. Belly heat surged. Suppressed lust roared. Thighs clenched; unsatisfied pussy clenched, aching for thick cock.