Zhao Xinmei's body went rigid, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Her flat little belly rose and fell to Chen Bin's rhythm, trembling with each unyielding thrust.
As her hidden valley was pounded relentlessly, pleasure bloomed too fierce to withstand.
Her flawless, delicate body writhed helplessly, and those full, round white rabbits jostled wildly beneath the thin sleep dress, pleading for escape.
The pale, tender mound, moist and perfect as the ripest peach, overflowed—clear brookwater splashing, drenching all in its wake, flavoring the air with unspoken longing.
The sight teased Chen Bin's curiosity, stirring restless hunger. He couldn't help but ask,
"Wife, how do you feel right now?"
Zhao Xinmei turned her flushed face aside, words stolen by rising shame.
Chen Bin went on, murmuring, "It must feel so good. Otherwise, you wouldn't be this wet, would you?"
His words struck Zhao Xinmei's pride like a whip, leaving a stinging blush blooming across her cheeks.
