Liu Yan's First Temptation
From the most rational perspective, Ma Jun should have refused Liu Yan's request and gone to deal with Li Wen first. Compared to Zhang Li and Liu Yan, Li Wen's attitude toward him was the most ambiguous and unpredictable. If he didn't handle it well, it could bring him big trouble.
But seeing the pleading look in Liu Yan's eyes, Ma Jun couldn't bring himself to say no. He nodded subconsciously. "No problem, Teacher Liu."
He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, cursing himself inwardly for having no principles at all.
"Great, then let's go."
Liu Yan smiled radiantly and turned toward the school gate, her round, perfect ass swaying gently side to side in those tight jeans. The boys around them gulped hard, staring at her alluring figure with filthy fantasies running wild.
Ma Jun shot them a disdainful glance. With your half-grown dicks, you think you can even dream of Liu Yan? He scurried after her like a puppy. He'd planned to grab her hand like he had at noon, but she had both hands stuffed in her pockets, giving him zero chance.
Liu Yan had changed into a white blouse, the faint outline of her pink lace bra visible underneath. Her towering, full breasts jiggled softly with each step, sending a rush of heat through Ma Jun's chest. He wanted to stare but didn't dare, stealing glances from the corner of his eye while talking to her. It was all blurry, teasing him, making his heart itch like a cat clawing at it.
Liu Yan saw every little move he made but pretended not to notice. Deep down, she felt a spark of delight. She even arched her back a bit on purpose, thrusting out her massive tits to tease him. Her feelings for Ma Jun were special now—not the polite distance of casual friends, but not intimate enough for touching either. It was this hazy in-between, and even she wasn't sure how to handle it.
At noon, Liu Yan had come home wanting a shower, only to find the showerhead acting up. The water pressure was inconsistent, sometimes strong, sometimes weak. It was a minor issue, but when she called the hot water heater installers, they dodged responsibility, claiming the warranty was expired and charging a hundred yuan for a house call. She thought it was a rip-off and refused. She considered asking a neighbor for help.
But thinking of neighbor Huang Hongfa's lecherous little eyes made her skin crawl. The guy was always making excuses to drop by. If she went to him for help, he'd probably think she was hitting on him. She quickly scrapped the idea. As she worried, Ma Jun popped into her head. Boys his age were handy, always tinkering with toys. He could probably fix a simple thing like this. So she'd come straight to him after school.
Asking Ma Jun meant fewer worries. First, he was just a student—no one would gossip if she called him over. Second, he liked her but knew his limits and never made her uncomfortable. Most importantly, she was growing to enjoy his company. With him, she felt relaxed, not on guard like with other men. She could say whatever, like back in high school. Being with Ma Jun made her feel young again, full of energy and vitality.
Ma Jun followed her home and checked the showerhead in the bathroom. Sure enough, the flow was weak and uneven, just like she said. He figured it was clogged, shut off the water main, unscrewed the head, and found it packed with limescale and grit. He cleaned it out, reinstalled it, and tested. The bathroom was stuffy and hot; he was soon drenched in sweat.
"Ma Jun, take a break."
Liu Yan grabbed a clean white towel and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Seeing it trickle down his neck into his shirt, she hesitated—should she offer him a quick shower? But no, she'd never had anyone else bathe here. She stayed quiet.
"Teacher Liu, it's fixed. If that's all, I'll head out."
Ma Jun's voice was hoarse. Her pale arms swayed enticingly before him, her mature woman's scent filling his nose. The tight space pressed them close; her full breasts nearly brushed his chest, stirring his blood. But Li Wen was waiting in the little garden—he fought the urge and said goodbye.
Seeing he wasn't lingering, Liu Yan's last reservations vanished, replaced by a twinge of guilt. She'd invited him and still been wary. She shot him a glare. "What's the rush? Look at you, soaked in sweat. You'll catch a cold in the wind. Sit on the sofa, have some water first."
She dragged him to the sofa, poured him a glass, no arguments.
Ma Jun held the cup, fidgeting like he was on pins and needles. The longer he stayed, the later he'd be for Li Wen. "Teacher Liu, maybe I should go. It's late; not right for me to hang around."
"You're young, but your mind's awfully old-fashioned. Don't forget, we're cousins."
Liu Yan grinned. "I'm not scared—what about you? So eager to leave... got a date? Or don't wanna sit with your teacher?"
It was a joke, but it hit too close. Ma Jun felt guilty and dropped it, sitting obediently. He watched the clock tick, sighing inwardly. Man plans, God laughs. His perfect schedule ruined by Liu Yan.
Noticing his restlessness and distracted chatter, Liu Yan wondered what was up. Had he really got a date? Then it clicked—Zhang Li. No wonder he was rushing. A pang of loss and resentment hit her. She glanced at him, probing. "Ma Jun, you heading to Teacher Zhang later? If you're busy, go. Don't keep her waiting."
Ma Jun jolted. He shook his head with a dry laugh. "No, Teacher Liu. Really, nothing."
She knew about him and Zhang Li, but things felt delicate between the women. They minded him seeing the other but wouldn't show it. He wouldn't admit it—Liu Yan might smile now but hate him inside. He'd seen girls in class go at it over a boy, all tricks and schemes. Mature or not, women were petty.
"Really?"
Liu Yan smiled lightly, knowing he was lying but not calling him out. A playful urge struck. Fine, play dumb. See who cracks first. She chatted schoolwork, noting his glances at the clock, his fidgeting. Liars get no mercy.
Ma Jun regretted not coming clean. Juggling three women at school? Headache already. Novel protagonists had harems in harmony; he had barely one and a half and was struggling. He wasn't cut out for this.
"Oh yeah, didn't you say at noon you'd write me a pledge?"
Liu Yan remembered, extending her smooth white hand with a grin. "Well? Got it? Or were you just bullshitting me?"
He'd said it in the heat of the moment; she took it seriously. Awkward, he scratched his head. "Teacher Liu, I forgot. But I meant it."
"No problem. Write it now."
She fetched paper and pen. "There—get to it."
She's serious?
Ma Jun stared, pen in hand. He could dash off a thousand-word apology to Zhang Li in minutes, no sweat. But a pledge was different—too short seemed insincere; too strict killed his chances. She was probably aiming for that.
Still, he wasn't stumped. He chewed the pen, then wrote a full page and handed it over. "Teacher Liu, done."
Liu Yan read curiously. She burst out laughing. He'd vowed solemnly, ending: "Teacher Liu, I promise not to do things that make you unhappy, not say words that make you unhappy, not see people who make you unhappy. Signed: Ma Jun."
"Alright, it passes."
She folded it carefully, chuckling. "I'll keep this safe. Break it, and you're in trouble—no excuses."
It said nothing specific—she knew he dodged. But it was a game; no one took it too seriously. At best, it'd make him think twice next time.
She refilled his empty glass. He fumbled it; hot water splashed her thigh, steaming up.
"Ah!" Liu Yan yelped, the cup shattering. Her thigh burned; she stumbled. Ma Jun caught her, rushed to the bathroom, blasted cool water on it for five or six minutes till the pain eased. Her jeans were soaked; he helped her to the bedroom to change.
"Go out for a bit."
Liu Yan sat, blushing shyly. Just panties underneath—bare from the waist down.
"Oh, right, Teacher Liu."
He backed out, closing the door softly, waiting anxiously. Was her leg bad?
No sound. He knocked. "Teacher Liu, changed yet?"
"Ma Jun, come in."
She was half-reclined, flushed, struggling with the wet, tight jeans. Button undone, but stuck to her ass and thighs. "Ma Jun, help. Too tight."
"Okay."
He had her lie flat, lift her hips. Hands at her slim waist, he tugged the jeans down slowly. Off her ass, revealing lacy panties hugging plump cheeks. At the thigh roots, her full mound bulged like a meaty hill, seductive. Stray black pubic hairs peeked out, beckoning.
Ma Jun's eyes burned; he swallowed hard. His cock sprang rigid, saluting her pussy. Liu Yan blushed deep, heart racing, hand covering her secret garden. "What're you staring at? Hurry!"
Her words sounded so dirty; she turned away, mortified.
Snapped back, he continued carefully near the burn, peeling inch by inch. Her ivory-smooth thighs gleamed. He yearned to kiss those perfect legs but lacked the guts.
Jeans off, tossed aside. Bare but for panties, her jade legs shone flawless—thick thighs, slim calves, model-worthy. Zhang Li's were meaty, Cao Meng's short, Li Wen's slender but not as lush. Pity he couldn't feel if they were silkier, firmer.
Her thigh near the knee was red from the scald. Good thing summer clothes and quick cooling—no scar. He'd feel guilty forever otherwise. Blushing: "Teacher Liu, my fault. I dropped the cup. Scold me."
She checked—minor relief. Meeting his hungry gaze, she pulled the blanket over. "No need to blame yourself. Everyone slips. It's late—head home."
Legs hidden, Ma Jun hadn't ogled enough. Wanted to flip the blanket for more, but Liu Yan wasn't a slut like Li Wen—look, don't touch. Plus Li Wen waited. Reluctantly, he said goodbye and left.
Alone, Liu Yan buried her face in the blanket, annoyed. Botched seduction. She could've undressed alone, but called him in on impulse. Then panicked when he was there, fearing he'd see through her. She wanted distance, the caring friend role. If he thought her a slut...
Finally, she changed into pajamas, lay back savoring the time with him. He was bold sometimes, headache-inducing; shy others, like a virgin boy. Staring at her bare thighs like he'd never seen legs. Yet he'd bedded his homeroom teacher and another woman—she recalled him fucking that one bare-assed on the balcony at noon.
She'd always kept such boys at arm's length. Class love letters got ignored, not punished—she was lenient, unlike Zhang Li. That was their teaching difference.
Traditionalists like Zhang Li saw students as charges, demanding parental authority and dignity, crushing challenges. Elites like Liu Yan humanized it—no rigid walls, friends even.
Curiosity started with his rapport with stuffy Zhang Li. Then Feng Kun's harassment drew them closer. Spotting his lust, she tried guiding him straight but events spiraled. Now she confided in him, tangled.
Ma Jun was unique—not good or bad simply. By old morals, bedding his teacher made him irredeemable. But she saw his kindness, helpfulness, boldness, remorse—rare even in adults.
Letting him strip her, exposing thighs and mound—even shy, it thrilled her. Dormant lust stirred; she rushed him out lest she tempt him. His eyes screamed it: one hint, he'd rip her clothes and plunge that thick cock in, giving true pleasure.
But no courage. She sighed, eyes resentful, irked at his timidity. Where was his usual nerve? Normal teachers don't bare their pussies. Didn't he get it? If he'd pushed, she'd have yielded half-heartedly. Men needed a touch of rogue.
Yet she loved his purity. Push too hard, she'd tire, distance him.
Sigh. Her heart conflicted. What would please her? Only the moment would tell. She wouldn't risk losing herself—or him.
Ma Jun raced to school, puzzled by her odd vibe tonight. Missed something? Couldn't place it. Little garden behind the teaching building—searched, no Li Wen. Joke? Back to the office building; Zhang Li's second-floor light on. He slipped up, pushed the door.
Zhang Li lounged on the sofa in a T-shirt and shorts, pale plump thighs crossed. Far sexier than class. His cock hardened.
She tossed the book, stood, face stern. "So late? Look at the time."
He hugged her, grinning. "Teacher Zhang, you waited?"
She blushed, pouting. "Waited? Prepping lessons. Come or not—I was heading home."
"But you were gonna grade my essay?"
His hand slid to her chest, under the neckline, grabbing full tits, kneading. Hard cock ground her fat ass.
"How can I teach like this?"
She softened, flushed, weakly struggling. "Let go—I'll teach properly."
Teased by Liu Yan, holding her lush body, he stripped her T-shirt and shorts. Bra and panties only, ripe scent wafting. He sat in the chair, her half-naked on his lap, hands roaming silky skin. "Now, essay time, Teacher Zhang?"
"Hey, stop! Put me down—I'll get mad."
Blushing, panting—if seen like this, mortifying.
He held tight. She begged: "Ma Jun, no more teasing. Bed?"
Knowing her conservatism, he carried her there, unhooked the bra. Massive pale tits out. He dove, sucking a nipple hard, hand at her pussy.
"Ah... can't... so itchy..."
She moaned; nipple hardened purple-red. Pussy leaked. Writhing, needy after days without. Wanted his big cock pounding now.
"Li-jie, missed you."
Hands squeezing tits, face buried in cleavage, sucking flesh. "Your huge tits are killer."
"Ah... Ma Jun... eat teacher's big tits... fuck teacher's slutty pussy..."
Licked wild, she shed teacher guise—horny milf now.
Her whorish talk fired him; he sucked swollen nipples, pushing her limits, making her sluttier. Tits ballooned, nipples grape-hard, slick with spit—obscene.
"Ma Jun... no more tits... fuck me... teacher needs it..."
Trembling, thighs rubbing, ass bucking, panties wet.
He yanked panties off, spreading her legs. Bushy mound, fat lips parting, slick. Finger teased entrance. "Li-jie, what do you want?"
"Just... Ma Jun... don't bully teacher..."
Too shy for dirty words, begging mercy.
"Teacher Zhang, tell me what."
Diddling lips, he recalled tonguing Li Wen, bent down, licked her pussy.
"Ah! Ma Jun, stop... oh god... dying..."
Loud moan, shocked. She thrashed, tits bouncing. Pussy clenched, squirting hot juice. Ass shook; thighs clamped his head—orgasm.
Head trapped, mouth full of squirt—he swallowed. So sensitive. No more teasing. Pants off, throbbing cock drooling pre-cum. Kneeling, he rubbed head on tender folds, dipping in then out.
"Little devil, hurry! Itching to death—fuck me hard! Teacher's mad!"
Frantic, ass lifting for cock—missed. He played enough; thrust—squelch—buried balls-deep.
"Ah... heaven... Ma Jun, so good... harder!"
Moaning bliss, thighs locked his hips, ass bucking in rhythm.
He pounded; hot rod pistoned deep, lips flipping, juices flying, her cries slutty.
"Ma Jun... fucking heaven... gonna die... aaah... flying!"
Face flushed with charm, panting, tits heaving, sweat-slick.
Nearly fifteen minutes; he slowed, spent. No lunch, afternoon with Cao Meng—exhausted, no cum yet.
"Ma Jun, tired?"
She noticed, eyes open—him huffing, arms shaking. Concerned.
"Li-jie, fine."
Forced smile, slowing more. Peak reached.
"Liar—face pale."
She sat, hugged him, wiped sweat tenderly. "Tell teacher. What if you break? Lie down."
He pulled out, gasped on bed. She fetched chocolate from drawer, fed him. "What'd Liu Yan have you do? Heavy labor? You're a student."
Chewing, he explained the showerhead, skipping the pants. No guilt, but feared jealousy.
Underestimating her, Zhang Li eyed suspiciously. "Showerhead breaks—she calls you? Kid fixing appliances? Bullshit. Just that? So long at her place—no other fun?"
"Li-jie, nothing! Fixed and left."
Wronged. Wanted to, but she wouldn't.
"Nothing? Liar."
Sensing Liu Yan's intent, she sneered. "Liu Yan's after more than a fix—wants to seduce you."
Liu Yan seducing me? Ma Jun blanked. No clue. Stunned, she smiled slyly. "No truth? I'll check myself."
Straddled him, stroked semi-hard cock erect. Lifted fat ass, sank down—swallowed whole. Hips rocked; pussy walls milked like a juicer.