Chapter 7

Zhang Aiai was truly panicked. She hurriedly pushed Zhao Desan away, her face flushed with shame, and instructed, "Hurry up and put your clothes on, my child is back."

Zhao Desan climbed off her happily, pulled up his pants, and watched her stand up to fix her bra, wrapping those fair, soft lotus-like breasts. She buttoned her shirt, smoothed out her disheveled hair, and looked at Zhao Desan with a flustered, uneasy expression. She squeezed a shy smile from the corner of her mouth and hurriedly went out to open the wooden door.

Her child complained, "Mom, why did you close the door?"

Zhang Aiai said, feeling uneasy, "You went out to play, and your uncle and I were going to cook. I was afraid a thief might come in."

Zhao Desan lit a cigarette, feeling satisfied and wearing a comfortable smile. He walked out of the kitchen and called to her child, "Little brat, come here."

The child rolled his eyes and said, "You're the little brat."

Zhao Desan thought this little brat was fun. When he walked over, the child looked at them with a strange gaze. Zhao Desan and Zhang Aiai looked at each other, both feeling a bit panicked. They only heard the child ask curiously, "Mom, why is there so much wheat straw in your hair?"

Zhang Aiai cast a sidelong glance at Zhao Desan, her gaze a bit alluring, which made Zhao Desan feel very satisfied. He had been with so many young women, but he had never tasted that kind of pleasure that made him feel like he was about to spasm.

Zhang Aiai lowered her head, picked the wheat straw from her hair, cast a sidelong glance, and said, "You guys sit for a while, dinner will be ready soon."

A triumphant smile appeared on the corner of Zhao Desan's mouth. He took a puff of his cigarette, puffed out smoke, and watched Zhang Aiai walk into the kitchen. He had experienced those long legs and fat buttocks wrapped in washed-out jeans; it was truly an extraordinary feeling, and he enjoyed it very much.

After Zhang Aiai finished eating, she sent her son to the next room to do his homework, bolted the door from the outside, and came to the living room to sit close to Zhao Desan. Recalling what happened on the wheat straw pile in the kitchen, she still found it endlessly memorable. Her little heart pounded, and she snuck sidelong glances at Zhao Desan from time to time.

"Tonight... stay here tonight," Zhang Aiai said hesitantly, lowering her head shyly, not daring to look at Zhao Desan... ===== CHAPTER 24 =====