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Childhood + quiet Liaohe - Chapter 12

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  2. Childhood + quiet Liaohe
  3. Chapter 12
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“Land and land”

@

in the unit and dormitory building, things about my father and my sister were in a terrible shadow of the cold war for a long time.

It’s time for Lu to dress for me in the morning

“Ah,”

I was so surprised that I couldn’t believe that my mother would make such a big decision that I couldn’t believe, “Mom, go to school?”

“Yes

Mom nodded, and dad muttered: “Hey, fiddle, he’s not old enough to go to school. If you really don’t want him to go to grandma’s house, even if you don’t want him to go to grandma’s house, even if you don’t want him to go to grandma’s house, it’s not like this!”

“Don’t worry about it.”

@

my mother glared at my father and continued to say to me, “Lulu, from today on, you are already a student!”

Hehe, seeing my mother’s serious appearance, I suddenly think of the valvara in “the country schoolgirl”. My mother’s words and her lines are so similar.

My mother squatted down and began to put shoes on my feet. Looking at my mother’s high fat buttocks and the white flesh exposed, I thought of that terrible and mysterious dream: ah, what is mother’s urine like?

Is it really a big hole for me to get into my head?

“Lulu, you listen to me well,”

Mother’s expression serious reprimand way, interrupted my endless leisure thinking, “Lulu, I tell you, you must give me a good study of homework, can’t give me shame, if you fail the exam, I’ll beat you to death!”

Mother’s face was cold and gloomy, and a pair of beautiful eyes behind the lens were so round that they almost jumped out of their eyes.

She warned me and threatened me fiercely, but I didn’t fear her at all. I bet it was just a threat. My mother would never touch me.

However, my mother’s unfounded intimidation has affected my mood of going to school: hum, I’ll go to school when I go to school. Why should I be beaten? Is it a lesson to be beaten?

Immediately, my mother put two colorful books into my hand: “here, this is your textbook, keep it! Don’t lose it

I took the two books and flipped through them.

I was dazzled by the colorful pictures in the textbook: the benevolent portrait of Chairman Mao, the majestic Tiananmen Gate, the winding Great Wall, the grotesque portraits of ethnic minorities These beautifully printed pictures make me happy to see. To some extent, it has changed my depression about school.

“Well, I’ll go to work first!”

While wearing a coat, my mother pointed to the wall clock and said to me, “after 7:30, you will carry your schoolbag and go to school to find me!”

On my back is a green military schoolbag used by my sister. In the lower right corner of the worn schoolbag, a small hole that makes me extremely embarrassed is ground out. On the way to school, a naughty boy student took my pencil case out of the breach secretly behind me and threw it on the stone beside the road.

When I had gone far away, he suddenly reminded me, “Hey, man, your pencil box is off!”

I look back and see, is not it, my poor stationery box lying alone on the road, is looking at me tearfully.

I ran back to pick up my poor pencil case.

The little one who made a fool of me ran away, triumphantly, with a look of low satisfaction.

It was hard for me to swallow. I decided to take revenge. Later, during a break, I took advantage of his toilet to tear up a whole page of his textbook.

However, to my great disappointment, this guy did not find my revenge at all, because he had never opened his textbook once. He always knew to play pranks and play tricks on his classmates. Even the teacher, he would not let go.

This person is extremely rude, full of swearing, open mouth shut mouth is “grandma cunt, grandma cunt!”

Yes.

Therefore, the students call him: grandma cunt.

“Mom,”

I came to my mother’s teaching and research office and found my busy mother. My mother took my little hand and said, “go, baby son, mother will take you to school!”

My mother led me to the lively playground. A young female teacher was dancing rubber bands with the girls like a child. My mother called out to her rich back, “Dumu!”

“Ah,”

the young female teacher, who was called Dumu, turned around and saw that it was her mother. She said to the girls, “play by yourself!”

“Dumu, you’re really good. Look at you, eh, what a teacher you look like!”

Mother mocked.

“Hee hee”

@

the female teacher laughed disapprovingly. When she saw me next to my mother, she kindly bent down and said, “Oh, Miss X, take your eldest son to school. Wow, he has grown taller and more handsome, little guy!”

Said, the female teacher stretched out her jade hand and pinched my small face affectionately: “what a handsome young man, with tender skin and tender flesh!”

“Dumu, put my son in your class!”

“What?”

The female teacher looked at her mother in a puzzled way: “teacher, is he old enough to go to school?”

“No, it’s still more than a year away, Dumu, put it in your class first, and follow it. Even if you can learn any degree, he is always naughty at home. He always causes trouble to me every day or twice!”

“Hey, hey”

@

the female teacher said with a smile: “OK, I didn’t say anything, just give him to me, little guy!”

The female teacher pinched my face again: “little naughty bag, after you are my student, you can’t be naughty again, if you don’t listen to me, I’ll beat you!”

With that, she turned her jade hand into a white fist and shook it like a demonstration in front of me.

I stare at the fragrant female teacher in front of me. I feel that when she talks, the taste is strange. The stiff tongue is very similar to Jinhua’s mother.

“Yes,”

my mother said seriously, “Dumu, you can take him as your son. If he doesn’t listen and doesn’t study hard, you can teach him a lesson! Don’t mention it… ”

Bell – Bell – Bell – Bell – the bell of class rang through urgently. My mother winked at me: “go, go to class with the teacher!”

“Mom,”

I asked my mother, “Mom, Dumu, how can the teacher call such a name? Dumu, Dumu!”

“Oh,”

my mother patiently explained, “son, your teacher is a Xianzu, and Dumu is Korean. If translated into Chinese, it means Comrade!”

“Oh, it’s a comrade teacher!”

I said to myself, “Mr. Dumu is Korean originally. No wonder she speaks Chinese very differently.”

I really don’t understand. A person who can’t speak Mandarin fluently has become a Chinese teacher.

“Come on”

@

Mr. Dumu took my hand and walked into the classroom. I was at a loss in the unfamiliar classroom. I hung my head and followed him stupidly. Mr. Dumu pushed me into a seat: “come on, you can sit here!”

“Hee hee”

@

a little hand pulled my coat corner, I looked up, ha, it was Lin Hong, Lin Hong looked at me, her beautiful face still showed a mocking look: “you come to school, what will you be?”

“Hum,”

@

I started a small mouth at Lin Hong, one hand gently pinched her thigh, and Lin Hong pushed me: “don’t make a fuss, be careful to let the students see it!”

My Korean teacher, Dumu, is a young woman in her thirties. She is taller than her mother. She is plump and her chest is high and high. When she walks, her big breasts are shaking happily and showing off to all the students.

Every time Mr. Dumu took a step, the round big buttocks kept twisting left and right, and the rolling fat almost broke his trousers.

Miss Dumu barefoot wearing a pair of leather sandals, white big toes on the few slender black hair caused my special interest, whenever she passed me, I always want to carefully examine her toes, at the same time, very hard to imagine the two big fat buttocks hidden in what kind of urine.

Teacher Dumu is breast-feeding. The little girl is only six months old. During the day, she is taken care of by the nurseries’ aunts. When it comes to recess, she rushes to the nursery to milk her baby.

As soon as I saw Mr. Dumu’s fat butt, my sexual interest shifted from my mother’s body to Mr. Dumu’s.

Ah, Mr. Dumu’s urine must be very big. If it’s like Lin Hong and Li Xiang or Jinhua, the snow-white and pink urine will be inserted into a finger and yell: “pain, pain!

Then how can her child get out of it and make a mess of her urine?

Women’s urine must also be the same as our bodies, growing bigger and bigger year by year?

It must be. You see, my chickens are growing every day!

Mr. Dumu stood in front of the platform with a cold face. There were a pair of bright and aggressive big eyes on her pale, cold and bloodless cheek. When I looked at her, I always felt flustered and tried to avoid the round and sharp eyes of the contrast glass ball.

relative to the eyes, Mr. Mu’s mouth is surprisingly small. Of course, it is much smaller than cherry. Two thin lips are covered with red lipstick.

Before class, Dumu, who was still smiling, turned into a terrible cold-blooded animal as soon as the bell rang, and she confirmed this with her own actual behavior.

She is extremely strict with her students. I have never seen Mr. Dumu smile in class. As soon as she is in class, his smile nerve is completely paralyzed.

Look at her, with her hands holding the long pointer on her back, she walked up and down in the classroom with a gloomy face. The chattering noise disappeared immediately, and the classroom was silent and frightening. Only the students’ low and frightened gasps could be heard.

The teaching whip in the hands of Dumu teacher is even more terrifying. Many students have been honored to experience the unforgettable taste of this pointer, and some students have even tasted it more than once.

God forbid, this merciless pointer never fell on my head or back.

This is definitely not because my homework is very good, not to mention that I seldom make mischief.

The reason why I was able to avoid eating the pointer was that my mother had a special relationship with Mr. Dumu. It is said that the husband of Mr. Dumu was introduced by his mother!

“All up

Mr. Dumu roared like a lioness.

“Hula –”

the students all stood up from their seats in panic.

“Look at you, ah, what are you like? You’re so clumsy! Sit down and do it again

“All up

We stand up again.

The teacher held the pointer and checked each student’s stance one by one. She pointed to a student and said, “stand up straight. Put your feet back in your seat!”

“You, and you, keep your hands straight!”

“Sit down!”

Mr. Dumu looked at each student severely: “put your hands behind you Now, I’m going to give you my first lesson today: long live Chairman Mao!… ”

The teacher turned around, picked up the chalk and wrote on the blackboard: “long live Chairman Mao”.

Then, he pointed to the words with a pointer: “everyone read after me: long live Chairman Mao!”

“Long live Chairman Mao!”

  “……”

“Well, students, now, you write these words to me one stroke at a time, and the workers write them out completely!”

The students immediately began to bury their heads in writing. Mr. Dumu walked around the classroom with his hands on his back and held the pointer, checking each student’s homework “Mr. Dumu snatched a schoolgirl’s homework book, tore up a page, and then threw it back on the desk with a bang,” and then rewritten it!

If you can’t write well, I’ll kill you!

“That unfortunate girl student secretly wiped her tears on the desk, and between classes, Mr. Dumu also played rubber band jumping with the girl whose homework book had been torn off on the playground!

Before I went to school, I used to use my left hand to do everything: eat, dress, play Now I go to school, I still use my left hand to write.

This is absolutely not allowed by Mr. Dumu. She sternly ordered me to correct it immediately: “well, you are so good, write with your left hand? Look at the whole class, who is like you? You are special? You look amazing

I was blushed by the teacher’s shame. I lowered my head in silence and fiddled with the pencil in my hand.

Suddenly, the teacher put down his pointer and leaned behind me. He taught me how to write with his right hand: “come on, learn from me, use this hand, write like this Oh, yes, that’s right, that’s it, that’s it

Mr. Dumu’s pale, fleshy palm tightly held my right hand, and his soft big chest pressed on my back without any scruples, and kept swimming slowly. It seemed that he was massaging my back. The attractive body temperature spread all over my body through the thin shirt, and my chicken could not help shaking. Cougar

, rather baffling the rush of the nose, and the smell of the mature woman, and the smell of the nose and the milk and fat of the lactation, arise spontaneously.

I greedily sniff the body odor of teacher Dumu, vaguely feel that she has some mild underarm odor.

“Can’t, oneself practice again!”

Mr. Dumu let me go, lifted up his body, and said sternly, “if I see you write with your left hand again, I’ll beat your hand hard!”

Dumu teacher’s saliva frequently splashed on my face, she said, while the pointer in her hand kept tapping my left hand.

Just now, I just focused on smelling the body odor of teacher Dumu and enjoying the pleasure of breast massage. My mind was not used in practicing calligraphy. Her roar immediately awakened me from my sexual thoughts. I fiddled with my pencil in my hand and tried to make my mind return to my study as soon as possible.

I can’t even take a pencil with my right hand, so it’s really difficult for me to write with my right hand. As long as the teacher doesn’t pay attention to it, I still write with my left hand secretly.

“Well, what are you doing?”

Damn it, it’s broken. Mr. Dumu found that I was writing with my left hand again.

I flustered to change the pen to the right hand, but it was too late. Mr. Dumu came to me with a stern face. I thought: over, this time, I want to taste the taste of the pointer.

I bit my teeth, tightened my back, ready to be punished. I learned these actions from my classmates. They all have to bite their teeth and close their back before being punished. Maybe this can relieve some pain.

Unexpectedly, Dumu teacher did not fulfill her promise, and the pointer did not fall on my back which had been fully prepared.

She leaned over to hold my hand again and taught me to correct my writing habits.

Ah, I smell the body smell of Dumu teacher again, and enjoy the breast massage of Dumu teacher again, which is called blessing in disguise!

My bad habit has not been completely changed, but I have never tasted the taste of Dumu’s teacher’s whip.

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