In the master bedroom, decked out in red sheets, Lin Fan lay on the bed.
At that moment, Feng Xiaoxiao, dressed in a wedding gown, held her phone in one hand and grasped the hardened Iron Pestle with the other. As she opened her cherry lips and continuously licked it with her fragrant tongue, she playfully didn't forget to look at Qiu Qingyi on the phone.
"How about that, isn't my husband's fantastic? Are you looking closely now?"
"It really is big!"
With Feng Xiaoxiao's face for comparison, Qiu Qingyi couldn't help but lick her lips—surely, such a thing wasn't ordinary.
"It's not just big, but also very hard—not the silicone kind of hard, though. It's firm yet soft, quite comfortable to use, you know."
Feng Xiaoxiao looked proudly at Qiu Qingyi on the phone, eliciting a baffled response from Lin Fan.
"Excuse me, do you ever consider my feelings when you two play like this?"
"It's just women sharing experiences. What's there for you to feel bad about?"
