From Zhang Xiaomeng's angle, he could even feel Jiang Qing's soft and tender breasts, about to burst forth from her apron.
It was the end of summer and the temperature was still quite pleasant.
The air quickly filled with Jiang Qing's unique fragrance.
Like female hormones, it stimulated Zhang Xiaomeng's nerves.
Zhang Xiaomeng approached Jiang Qing and embraced her from behind.
He whispered in her ear, "Wife, the food you make is the best, but nothing tastes better than you."
Upon hearing this, Jiang Qing blushed, her beautiful and flirtatious eyes casting a glance at Zhang Xiaomeng that turned his soul upside down.
"You only know how to say these shameless sweet nothings."
Yet the warm breath of Zhang Xiaomeng by her ear stirred a sense of restlessness deep within her.
Zhang Xiaomeng chuckled and deftly untied Jiang Qing's apron, his large hand exploring that full territory.
But the moment he touched that softness, Jiang Qing bit her lip.
