Wu Song's heart skipped a beat.
Zhang Xintong had already pulled aside her underwear, exposing her little hole, gradually fitting Wu Song's big gun inside her, then continued to sit in Wu Song's lap, feeling so comfortable that she started sweating profusely. Her little butt squirmed slightly, as if she were really being coquettish.
At first glance, nothing seemed amiss.
It really looked like a girlfriend being playful on a boyfriend's lap.
Wu Song naturally embraced Zhang Xintong, his hand grabbing her breasts and kneading them.
The thin clothing and bra hardly obstructed the feel.
The kneading felt fantastic.
Soon, Wu Song had kneaded them into all sorts of shapes.
And Zhang Xintong was breathing heavily, constantly twisting her slender waist.
Experiencing the torment of the big gun.
Her whole being moved in rhythm with it.
