The electrifying sensation hit her, making Zhang Qiang unable to help herself, moaning softly.
That round little face flushed with a hint of red.
Underneath her skirt, Tang Feng's hand lingered on those little mounds, unable to leave.
Through the thin layer of fabric, he could feel the wetness seeping from the crevice.
Soon, the wetness soaked through the material.
The little woman leaning on his shoulder had completely melted, continually letting out soft murmurs.
Looking at the little woman's limp form, Tang Feng felt a burning heat throughout his body.
"Zhang Qiang, I want you," he whispered in her ear, his voice low.
Zhang Qiang gasped softly, her lovely eyes rippling like water.
"No... not here, there are cameras... we'll be seen," Zhang Qiang said in a halting voice.
Uh...
Tang Feng, who had been eager to move, was dissuaded by Zhang Qiang's words.
