Caressing the silk stockings embroidered with thin lace patterns, Chen An's heart was thumping wildly.
Su Meng already had a voluptuous and soft body, and looking at the piece of transparent fabric in his hand, no bigger than his palm, Chen An could already imagine how the two straps below would dig into her smooth, pink skin.
He was already fantasizing about Su Meng wearing these stockings, with her pleated skirt she wore today over them, and the image of her lifting the hem to show off her absolute territory was enough to send his blood racing.
Chen An once again quietly brought the silk stockings to his nose and inhaled deeply, as if taking great drags from a cigarette, the transparent fabric exuding a fresh fragrance.
Unfortunately, it didn't carry much of Su Meng's scent; if it had been imbued with her feminine aroma, it would have been intoxicating to the point of devastating desire.
