Zhao Chi buried his head between Wei Qi's legs, prying apart her slender, exquisitely shaped, fair and round thighs, greedily and madly lapping up the seductive taste of her.
Wei Qi's nether region was like a fresh oyster with a hint of sea salt, slippery and delicious, so full of juice that Zhao Chi, who had only intended to take some nude photos to threaten her, suddenly couldn't stop himself.
Wei Qi was in immense pain inside, but she could do nothing. Waves of intense and stimulating pleasure washed over her, causing lightning strikes of tumult inside her head.
Wei Qi wanted to moan, but she couldn't speak a word, not even able to vent loudly as she wanted. Under this strange, stimulating pleasure, having never experienced a man's tongue there before, Wei Qi felt like she was dying of desire.
