Thinking about Chen Dashan passionately entangled with another woman, Zhang Xuewen blushed.
Her heart pounded like a drum. She pressed her small hands against her chest, recalling the heat of Chen Dashan's palms. Her body felt like a puddle.
Her legs went weak, and the secret Peach Garden seemed to open its floodgates. Her freshly changed clothes were already soaking wet.
Zhang Xuewen's cheeks were flushed.
Listening to the sounds of umming and ahhing in her ears, she collapsed weakly onto the chair in the office. When she reached out and touched, there was already a big wet patch under her buttocks, making her even more sensitive. She shivered all over from the touch on her skin.
The flow of water intensified.
What to do?
Zhang Xuewen's body burned with heat, her eyes misty with a veil of moisture. Her two white legs were tightly clenched together, not daring to relax even a bit.
...
