In the pitch-black living room, only the faint light from a cell phone illuminated Zhao Jiaqi's classically beautiful face.
Her body, although in its thirties, didn't have an ounce of excess fat, and its smooth texture made Lin Fan's breathing grow heavy. Adding to the moment, the phone call was still connected, and it was her husband on the other line—a taboo act that was a novel experience not only for Lin Fan but also for Zhao Jiaqi.
Lin Fan's hands were no longer content with just savoring the softness of her peach-shaped buttocks. He laid Zhao Jiaqi's body flat, parted her legs with his, and moved past her flat stomach, pushed aside the tangled undergrowth, and plunged into the long-absent muddy abyss. The thrill made Zhao Jiaqi tremble as if electrocuted, her hand involuntarily tightening in a firm grip, causing Lin Fan to shudder as well.
