"Mmm... ah... ah... Mr. Chen... please don't..."
This peculiar movement simultaneously stimulated her Honey Spring and chrysanthemum bud, bringing a mixture of pain and pleasure that made Sister Qing furrow her elegant eyebrows and beg Chen Yang for mercy.
She bit her lip tightly, enduring the shame in her heart as her beautiful face flushed. "Ugh... ah... ah... I... I can lie at Mr. Chen's feet and let you fuck me. Just please... please don't use this thing on me..."
"That would be boring." Chen Yang released the lace panties that had been stretched tightly over Sister Qing's Honey Spring, looking uninterested. "I have women to fuck right now. I don't need you at all."
The sudden disappearance of the painful stimulation brought Sister Qing a wave of relief, but it was followed by a pang of disappointment and loss, a deep, hollow emptiness inside her.
