Chen Mo had finished cooking, and when he called Ye Xinxin over, her face was still flushed bright red.
He found it odd—so much time had passed for her to cool down, so why hadn't the blushing subsided? Could it be that she was entertaining wild thoughts?
"I've troubled you..."
"Not necessarily, you might not find my cooking to your taste; however, to match your status, I tried to keep it clean and exquisite."
At this, Ye Xinxin became anxious: "Don't worry about those things, actually, I'm just like the other girls."
The same? Definitely not the same, but the "same" she referred to had a different meaning.
No need for specifics, just treat me the same.
Indeed, for women engaged in that sort of thing, the extent of the pleasure they could get entirely depended on their mood; if the mood wasn't right, coarseness and size could only do them deeper harm, those things shown in the little videos were not to be trusted...
