A groan escaped Feng Yi’s lips. The gesture was intensely suggestive, as if she were licking…him…through the screen. He told himself he must be mistaken, even feeling guilty for such a brazen, l3wd thought, but the image of her tongue on her finger filled his mind, his erection throbbing.

She sucked on her fingertip, then pulled it away with a soft pop.

Feng Yi stroked himself frantically, his movements fast and uncontrolled, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

“I’m so hungry,” she murmured, licking her finger again, like a kitten lapping at water. “I want something long and hot…and…hard.”

Feng Yi’s brow furrowed in agony. “Don’t…mm…don’t say that…”

“Say what?” she laughed. “Feng Yi, what are you thinking about, hmm?”

He burned with shame, but his rational mind had shut down, leaving only the instinct to stroke himself. “I don’t…I don’t know…ha…” he stammered.

“Do you want me to…suck your…” Qiao Li drew out the words, then uttered the crude term, “D1ck.”

“Don’t—” Feng Yi was losing his mind. How could she say such a vulgar word? It wasn’t like her, yet it sent a jolt of arovsal through him, bringing him to the brink. He really was going crazy.

Qiao Li laughed out loud. She never imagined she’d be asking a guy to mastvrbate for her on video, or using such explicit language. It was all so novel. She watched him roughly stroking himself, seemingly oblivious to the pain, even his dark red balls swaying with the motion.

Had she really been that provocative?

Propping her chin in her hand, she said with playful curiosity, “I want to see you come.” She wanted to savor the sight.

Being watched like this was intensely embarrassing, yet Feng Yi found a strange pleasure in the coercive shame. He was willing to be her plaything.

He could no longer control his body. A tremor started in his lower abdomen, growing more intense. Uncontrollable moans escaped his lips, vulnerable and tinged with a whimper, rising in pitch. 

A sliver of sanity told him to stop, that it was too embarrassing, too obscene, but the pleasure washing over him obliterated any remaining restraint.

His p3nis twitched rhythmically. He stopped stroking and simply gripped the base, grinding gently. His cries followed the spasms, punctuated by muffled whimpers as he bit his lip, then escalating again.

Sperm erupted from the tip, spurt after spurt. His back arched, his body convulsing with each release. Then, with the final expulsion, he went limp, his cries fading into ragged breaths. He leaned heavily against the sink, drenched in sweat, trying to regain his composure.

The small bathroom was thick with steam and the salty scent of s3men. The air was stifling.

Feng Yi couldn’t bring himself to look at his phone, or to think about what had just happened. A whimper of shame escaped his throat as he slid to the floor, burying his face in his arms. Returning rationality made him want to hide from reality.