This was the first time Qiao Li had examined him so closely while sober. His p3nis and full testicles were beautiful, a delicate pink, his c0ck thick and long, the veins prominent, exuding a potent masculinity beyond his years. She hadn’t even begun to stroke him properly, just lightly teasing his tip, and he was already getting hard, his er3ction growing steadily, springing back with a quiver every time she pressed it.
She hadn’t meant to tease him, just to observe his reaction.
A rosy blush crept up his cheeks, his brow furrowed, his head tilted back, his throat bobbing as his breath hitched. He had to part his lips slightly to breathe.
It was amusing how easily she could bring him to his knees with just her fingertips.
Feng Yi gripped the back of the sofa, a mixture of bliss and torment coursing through him. His heart pounded, wanting to beg her to stop but his mind was blank.
He looked at her, mesmerized. The playful look on her face was incredibly sexy. Her raised eyebrow, her every move, screamed that she was teasing him.
Teasing… The word sent a wave of heat through him, intensifying his desire.
He stared at her profile, his mind hazy, a rebellious urge rising within him. He wanted to come, right there, on her hand, on her soft, full br3asts, even on her beautiful, clean face. He imagined his white cvm on her lips, her delicate nose…
He couldn’t think anymore.
He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. He was definitely a p3rvert.
Qiao Li started drawing circles on his tip, his breathing growing ragged.
Her touch was pure torture, a delicious, unbearable tension. But the more restrained he was, the more intense the pleasure became, building beneath the surface, threatening to erupt.
His abdomen trembled, the rhythm increasing, his muscles taut.
She heard a soft moan escape his lips, a suppressed gasp that sent shivers down her spine, a warm tingling spreading through her chest.
His p3nis twitched, and with each heavy breath, he unconsciously bucked against her hand, the movements growing stronger.
Qiao Li knew he was close.
His hand tightened on the sofa, his arm muscles bulging, a shuddering groan escaping his nostrils.
His thrusts into the air became more forceful, and just as he was about to reach his peak, Qiao Li suddenly pressed her fingertip against his urethra.
“Ungh…” Feng Yi cried out in frustration, struggling against her hand, but she held firm, blocking his release. He whimpered, the pleasure turning into agonizing frustration as she held him back from the brink.
“Please…stop…uh…I need…” he pleaded, his voice thick with desperation. He thrashed against her, his arm hitting the back of the sofa with a thud.
“Shh…shh…” Qiao Li soothed him like a child, her hand unrelenting.
His whimpers gradually subsided under her calming voice.
The pleasure receded, leaving Feng Yi breathless and covered in sweat, sprawled weakly on the sofa.
It was unbearable, the intense wave of disappointment that crashed over him, equal to the pleasure he’d just experienced.
When he finally calmed down, Qiao Li removed her hand, a wicked glint in her eye. “We can’t have you coming on the sofa. It’s very difficult to clean.”