"Xiaolong."
Liang Cuiping watched as Chen Xiaolong disappeared from view, her gaze gradually becoming hazy.
It had been too long, far too long since she had tasted a man.
Since leaving her husband, she had been alone. When the loneliness became unbearable at night, she had to take matters into her own hands.
She constantly thought about finding a man to properly vent on, to fill the emptiness below.
She was even certain that she could twist even a rod of iron out of shape.
Unfortunately, all she heard was the sound of the engine humming, never seeing the engine turn.
In the silence of the bathroom, the robust image of Chen Xiaolong appeared in her mind, her face immediately flushing as if it could drip blood.
The next moment, Liang Cuiping extended her slender index finger and slowly moved it downward.
"Xiaolong, auntie, auntie has been thinking."
Before long, the sound of panting filled the bathroom, sometimes soft, sometimes rising high and intense.
