The night was deep.
In the spacious open-plan apartment living room, a floor fishing lamp added an ambiguous atmosphere to their entwinement.
The atmosphere had reached a point where the two of them were in perfect harmony.
Wen Sheng naturally extended her slender arm, gently encircling Fu Yanlin's neck, and as he leaned in to kiss, she actively initiated the attack.
Her eyes, her long eyelashes casting a shadow under the lamplight.
The moment Fu Yanlin noticed Wen Sheng's initiative, his blood boiled like a river in flood season, with endless passion surging and bubbling within him.
He lost control, taking the initiative.
It seemed as if only in this way could he claim the fruit of his day and night fantasies as his own.
Wen Sheng couldn't help but groan, "Mmm..."
Just as her tongue began to feel numb, it was swept away again.
