The sound of Yang Haoran swallowing hard stood out sharply in the quiet atmosphere.
Zhou Shiwen felt provoked too. Deep jealousy burned in his eyes as he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Mom, you’re going too far! Get out and change back.”
With that, he stood up, ready to push Shen Qing out of the room.
Aunt Shen was dressed in such a sexy, alluring outfit now, her fiery, explosive figure like that of a devil. Yang Haoran’s possessiveness surged within him; he saw her as his forbidden treasure.
Seeing Shiwen about to lay hands on Aunt Shen—even knowing he was her son—made Yang Haoran uncomfortable. He immediately stepped in to block Shiwen, not letting him touch her even a little. In a righteous tone, he said, “Let me handle it, Shiwen. Don’t get mad. Sit down, and I’ll get Aunt Shen to leave.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Zhou Shiwen frowned but said nothing more. Helplessly, he sat back down.
“Aunt Shen, why don’t you head out first? I watched it. I liked it a lot.”
Yang Haoran gripped Aunt Shen’s fair, jade-like wrist, savoring the smooth, soft touch. His heart stirred, but he kept a straight face on the surface.
“If you liked it, that’s good.”
Shen Qing’s beautiful eyes were like fine wine, intoxicating to the soul. She gazed at Yang Haoran with a pitiful, moving look, her seductive voice melting his bones. “Little Ranran, you’re holding Auntie’s hand. How am I supposed to walk?”
Only then did Yang Haoran realize he had been clutching her soft little hand tightly. He let go awkwardly.
“Sister’s leaving now.”
Aunt Shen threw him a flirtatious wink, as if hinting at something. Then her slender waist swayed like a willow in the wind, leaving only a lingering fragrance swirling at the tip of Yang Haoran’s nose.
With a click, Aunt Shen’s graceful, swaying figure vanished behind the door of the bedroom door, out of sight. A sudden sense of emptiness and loss welled up in Yang Haoran’s heart.
But recalling the look in her eyes before she left, he pondered it carefully. It seemed like she wanted him to follow her out.
Suppressing his restless emotions, Yang Haoran pretended to sit down next to Shiwen and played another round of the game with him. After two or three minutes, he figured the timing was right.
“Hey, Shiwen, why don’t you hold down the fort here? I’m heading back. Return the USB drive when you have time.”
Zhou Shiwen wasn’t focused either. Playing games couldn’t compare to the thrill of those videos, especially since he’d just discovered them. They were addictive, like a drug that left him craving more.
Seeing Yang Haoran wanted to leave, he made a half-hearted attempt to keep him. “You sure you have to go? Stay and play a few more rounds with me.”
“Nah, we didn’t really come here to game anyway. Just experiencing it is enough. Play on your own.”
Yang Haoran shook his head. His heart had already followed that lingering fragrance; there was no way he’d stay.
Since Yang Haoran was set on leaving, Zhou Shiwen didn’t press the issue.
Yang Haoran reached the bedroom door, opened it, and glanced outside. The hallway was empty—no sign of Aunt Shen. Thinking she’d left, he felt a pang of regret.
He stepped out and closed the door behind him. Just then, around the corner, a musky, orchid-like fragrance assaulted him. Before he could react, a pair of sexy, plump red lips pressed against his.
An intense, rich aroma enveloped his senses—he couldn’t tell if it came from Aunt Shen’s flowing hair or her mature, fiery body’s natural scent. Yang Haoran felt drunk with desire, instinctively wrapping his arms around her slim, graspable waist and responding passionately.
Savoring those fragrant, overflowing lips, he wasn’t satisfied with passivity. He took the initiative, his tongue gently prying open her pearly white teeth and slipping inside. Her wet, sweet little tongue met his, entwining eagerly.
The sweet, delicious saliva and the soft, tasty little tongue—it was all utterly intoxicating.
Yang Haoran hugged Aunt Shen’s slender waist tightly in the heat of passion, feeling her tall, full peaks pressing against his chest. Even through their clothes, he could sense their soft, massive fullness rubbing together, giving his chest a teasing breast massage with every motion of their fervent French kiss.
Yang Haoran’s kissing skills weren’t advanced, and Aunt Shen’s little tongue felt clumsy too, but neither cared. Their tongues passionately stirred and wrapped around each other like lovers in the throes of romance, unable to pull away.
As he sucked and claimed the fragrant nectar from her mouth, Yang Haoran’s wicked claws of Lu Mountain slid down from her slim waist, following the beautiful curve of her hips. Like a mountaineer scaling a peak, his large hand climbed upward.
Reaching the most beautiful summit, his claw spread out, fingers pressing down. The smooth, soft sensation flooded his senses, making him reluctant to let go. He gripped and kneaded Aunt Shen’s plump, juicy buttocks even harder.
In the midst of their heated kiss, Aunt Shen felt Little Ranran roughly massaging her ass. Waves of tingling pleasure shot through her like electric shocks. She let out a soft moan, her lewd sound stirring the flames of desire deep in Yang Haoran. His cock swelled and hardened, standing tall and proud against her lower belly.
“Aunt… Shen… we should stop.”
Yang Haoran panted heavily as their lips parted at last. A glistening silver thread stretched between their separating mouths, sparkling with lewd light before snapping.
He looked at Aunt Shen’s face. That stunningly beautiful, perfect cheek was flushed with hints of red. Her amber eyes, like autumn waters, gazed at him with a silky, seductive haze. Her plump cherry lips parted slightly, and her alluring face met his gaze with a soul-stealing, wanton charm.
“What’s wrong, Little Ranran? Doesn’t Auntie’s tongue taste good?”
Shen Qing’s enchanting eyes rippled with watery light as she gazed at him seductively.
Her bewitching allure made Yang Haoran’s heart itch unbearably. He wished he could claim this little vixen right then and there.
“It tastes… too good.”
Yang Haoran grinned, lowering his voice as he undid his pants. “I can’t play favorites. My little brother needs a taste too. Look at him—he’s been waiting impatiently.”
Pointing to his pants as they slid down, his proud, erect cock bobbed and swayed, aimed straight at Aunt Shen like a tiger descending the mountain, eyeing its prey hungrily. Drool-like precum dripped from its mouth, wetting the tip.
“This little guy’s quite greedy, isn’t he?”
Shen Qing glanced at the swaying monster between his legs and covered her mouth with a light laugh.
“He’s not little at all. Aunt Shen, your little mouth might not be able to handle him.”
Yang Haoran huffed twice, teasing her provocatively.
Understanding his intention, Shen Qing smiled seductively. “If my mouth can’t handle it, Auntie has another little mouth down below that can definitely satisfy him. And if he’s still greedy, Auntie’s back door is open for him too~”
Aunt Shen’s lewd words sent a thrill through Yang Haoran. What a seductive, fiery vixen—she even offered all three holes without hesitation.
But that’s exactly why he loved her more. A noble lady in public, a slut in bed—the ultimate fantasy that perfectly stroked a man’s ego. Aunt Shen knew just how to play him.
