Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
"Cough, cough!" Zhang Moyan held onto An Yuan's thick waist, leaning to one side with tears and snot streaming down.
He really made An Yuan out of breath...
"Are you okay?"
Hastily turning Zhang Moyan's face towards him, An Yuan looked full of concern, one hand gently stroking his back, while the other hand was pinching Zhang Moyan's face hard.
Gradually, Zhang Moyan slowly regained consciousness, but her face had already been disfigured by An Yuan. "Darling, you wouldn't be deliberately seeking revenge, would you?" Looking at the smile on An Yuan's face, Zhang Moyan felt a sense of dread.
"How could that be, darling? I'm more anxious than anyone to see you in pain." An Yuan's eyes and eyebrows curved.
"Um, can you come down first?" Zhang Moyan patted her belly, causing An Yuan above to slide down as well.
"Darling, do you find me annoying?" Looking at Zhang Moyan's helpless expression, An Yuan smiled and climbed up again.
...An Yuan remained unmoved.
"Fine, then just stay like this!" With a big slap, Zhang Moyan patted An Yuan's perky butt, and with a wicked smile, he brought his legs together and pulled An Yuan up between them, causing An Yuan to fall back onto his legs.
"You—" The green sprout fell back into Zhang Moyan's hands, and An Yuan's face turned red and then pale again.
"I got your consent this time!" The fingers formed a circle, enclosing the green sprout and gently stroking it, causing An Yuan to relax again, no longer struggling to sit up.
Zhang Moyan moved An Yuan to the bedside, considering his pride, he picked up the fallen pillow and covered An Yuan's stomach with it, then kissed him, saying, "Baby, it's time to sleep, okay!"
An Yuan breathed a sigh of relief, although Zhang Moyan was still somewhat unusual, at least he didn't have to worry about him anymore.
Holding An Yuan's hand with the sprout, Zhang Moyan buried his head in An Yuan's chest, gently licking the slightly swollen little fruit of An Yuan.
"Just what are you doing? Are you drooling?" Feeling liquid flowing on her chest, An Yuan thought of lifting her head to look, but was sucked down again by Zhang Moyan fiercely and softly.
"Yuan, you really know how to ruin the mood with your words."
Zhang Moyan discreetly wiped the corner of his eye, An Yuan showed concern in his eyes, but he also had his own persistence.
The slightly rough palm of An Yuan gently stroked the soft curves of his body, feeling his lively and tender physique. Zhang Moyan felt a bit excited, causing his body to tremble slightly.
After Secretary Wang's death, he left behind an illness.
Every midnight, he would sit up in bed in a panic, then frantically search for An Yuan. It started with not being able to find An Yuan, then finding An Yuan, and finally An Yuan lying in his arms.
Holding An Yuan's lively body, he was horrified to find that this superficial contact could not alleviate his inner fear, not even a bit.
He saw a doctor with An Yuan on his back, and the doctor told him it was obsessive-compulsive disorder, and then he fell silent.
"Ah--" An Yuan closed his eyes tightly, his legs spread wide and weakly hanging on both sides of Zhang Moyan's body, the tender shoots in front of him were being swallowed by Zhang Moyan at different speeds.
Three fingers slowly stroked the acupoint on An Yuan's back, each withdrawal bringing out a slippery fluid. Before long, the sheets beneath the two of them were soaked.
Seeing An Yuan's furrowed brow and trembling body, Zhang Moyan suddenly became a bit wild. "Don't hold back! Release for me!"
The tongue skillfully peeled open the top of the sprout, and then fiercely licked and probed the tender flesh inside, while the hand did not relax, continuously kneading the soft flesh protruding from the passageway.
"No—" The world instantly turned blank, An Yuan's whole body tensed, only seeing flashes of white light in front of their eyes. Their lips trembled, and after a while, a huge burst of sobbing erupted.
"Gulp!" The throat moved, and the sound of swallowing was clearly audible. Zhang Moyan then spat out the half-soft green sprout from his mouth, "It tastes pretty good."
Hearing Zhang Moyan's words, An Yuan felt both embarrassed and angry, immediately raising his weak hand to cover his face.
A bead of sweat the size of a bean slid down Zhang Moyan's forehead, the veins on his arm bulging. He probed the softness of An Yuan's acupoint with his raised finger, and it was almost there.
Grasping the fire dragon in his hand, he then thrust it into the soft acupoint of An Yuan. The hot and narrow intestinal wall tightly coiled around the large fire dragon, and Zhang Moyan let out a satisfied sigh.
The dragon swiftly enters and exits the posterior orifice, each time harshly brushing against An Yuan's tender flesh. An Yuan had just reached a sensitive state, unable to withstand such stimulation, and soon felt the sensation rising again.
"Ah—be gentle!" A small climax was reached, and immediately the front end began to joyfully shed tears.
Comment 0 Comment Count