Carefully repack that hefty document and place it to the side.
The next moment, Jing, like a clingy little cat, affectionately wrapped her arms around her, snuggling up fully.
She started chatting away chirpily.
Naturally, the topic revolved around Tang Song, the man they shared.
At first, it was all quite normal, discussing what Tang Song liked to eat, his favorite color, his little habits...
But as the conversation went on, the tone started to veer off track.
"... By the way, have you tried using your feet..."
"Brother Tang Song's belt..."
"I know a kind of prop..."
Lin Muxue's eyelids started to twitch uncontrollably as she listened to Jing broach topics of shameful taboos, feeling nothing but anxiety.
That facade of aloof maturity she'd struggled to maintain was crumbling completely.
She had a vague sense of foreboding.
Could it be that Jing... has some kind of special fetish?!
If they really ended up in bed together, then...
