On the soft large bed, Chen Jiayi was wantonly swaying her graceful figure.
Lin Fan, grasping the fleshy curves swaying with her body, couldn't help but remark, "The bed is still comfortable. The Dragon Chair last night didn't break my back, so some things may seem grand, but only the one suffering knows it."
"So walk your own path, and let others talk."
Chen Jiayi braced her hands on Lin Fan's shoulders, constantly thrusting her abdomen upward. The pleasure from the rapid friction drove her wild, her ample hips being firmly grasped by Lin Fan, and swaying back and forth. At this moment, her captivating face was already twisted.
"It's walking others' path, leaving them no way to walk!"
Flipping over to pin Chen Jiayi beneath him, gripping her slender ankles, Lin Fan watched her swaying breasts. From this angle, he could clearly appreciate the exquisite scene of the Iron Pestle entering the Abyss, and with the thrusts, Chen Jiayi's moans grew louder.
