In his ear, the splashing sounds grew more turbulent, intermittently mixed with the buzzing of an electric motor.
Ye Tong was putting a toy on Little Mother.
Unfortunately, such an erotic scene was left to Yang Fan's imagination, as he could only perceive it through sound.
The dim moonlight from outside enabled him to see only two shifting shadows—one high and one low—nothing more detailed.
Little Mother's moans gradually became more intense, their fluctuating pitches composing a captivating melody.
Listening made Yang Fan's blood rush, his head swim, and he struggled to suppress the urge to join in.
"Okay, okay, that's enough, stop it now, or I'll be ruined," Zhou Wenhu's voice came urgently.
"Little Mother, you're so quick today? Quick to come, quick to go. There's something off with your body right now!" Ye Tong teased, "Maybe you should see the old Chinese doctor when you're free, looks like you might need to get tuned up."
