Distressed and mortified by this, Xuetang had even stood before a mirror, scrutinizing that part of herself—a place both intimately familiar and strangely alien.
Her budding, feminine core—those soft, delicate outer lips—resembled a pair of plump, snow-white silkworms. Beneath their translucent, porcelain-pale skin, a faint, rosy flush stirred; they remained pressed tightly together, sealed shut like the delicate valves of a seashell.
A glistening, viscous sheen shimmered between those tightly pursed, peach-like folds—a soft, milky-white luster. A scent wafted from them, reminiscent of fresh blossoms crushed into rich cream: a crisp, clean fragrance laced with a sweet, musky undertone—much like the ethereal, subtle perfume of a winter plum blossom blooming amidst the snow.
The scent—emanating from the very depths of her body, from the pristine, untouched passage of a virgin—was intoxicating. It made the shy, curious girl's face flush a deep crimson, her gaze growing hazy and unfocused.
And then, the thought struck her: the way Li Dong would blush whenever he found himself in close proximity to her of late—realizing this, she bit her lip, her face igniting with a burning, scarlet glow. She realized that this was her own natural scent—something she usually wouldn't notice unless she consciously paid attention to it, though it would certainly be apparent to others…
"You rascal…"
The young girl whispered softly. A strange, rising heat compelled her small hand to press down, gently parting the tender, snow-white, honeyed flesh. Instantly, the mirror's surface misted over, revealing a delicate, vibrant, and alluring sight—like a flower blooming before her eyes.
The moist, rosy folds appeared as if veiled in a morning mist; they were crystalline and translucent, trembling ever so slightly like fine, creamy jade. Amidst a faint, warm haze, they blossomed—hazy, exquisite, and full of charm.
"So beautiful…"
It was the first time she had ever examined this part of herself so closely; even she was struck by its beauty. Ever since she reached puberty, this area had become incredibly sensitive—even the simple act of sitting down to urinate would trigger a strange, tingling sensation that made her limbs go weak and her heart race, as if constantly reminding her that she was awakening to the stirrings of love.
"Would that rascal… like it?"
She murmured to herself, her long, fan-like eyelashes fluttering. She seemed almost too shy to look directly at the delicate, rosy sight reflected in the mirror. A faint blush crept across her porcelain-white cheeks—reminiscent of peach blossoms just beginning to unfurl—tinged with an indescribable shyness and a dreamy, dazed expression.
Suddenly, the image of Li Dong blushing came to mind. Her cherry-red lips curled slightly, and the flush on her face deepened.
"You rascal…" she chided, her voice laced with a playful, bashful reproach.
With her heart completely filled by that 'rascal,' she reached out with a slender, delicate finger—venturing into the act of self-pleasure for the very first time. Possessing an innate, seductive grace, she seemed to intuitively know exactly what to do; she quickly discovered the source of her pleasure, her slender fingers gently caressing and teasing, as if plucking the strings of an instrument. As she wept, a warm, gentle mist billowed forth, clouding the surface of the mirror. Hearing her sobs, Li Dong—mistaking them for genuine distress—nearly burst straight into the room…
Stirred by these memories—at once sweet and bittersweet—Xuetang felt her face flush and her heart race. Instinctively, her slender, jade-like fingers reached down toward the plump, swelling mound between her thighs.
"Mmm~"
The moment her fingers brushed against the slick, velvety folds of her flesh, a delicate, feminine moan echoed through the room, followed by the wet, squelching sounds of fluid being stirred.
"Ah…~"
Xuetang's chest heaved rapidly. Her legs splayed open suddenly, like a snow-white butterfly unfurling its wings. As she withdrew two fingers from the honeyed slit, a viscous, bubbly strand of fluid clung to them, stretching out before drooping downward.
Coating her fingers was a faint, milky-white secretion, reminiscent of the translucent pulp of a lychee.
Amidst breaths that sounded almost like sobs, her lush, abundant breasts swayed and then settled. The two rounded, voluptuous mounds strained against the purple silk, appearing like plump, ripe peaches—firm and full. At their peaks, two distinct, pointed nubs stood erect; they were pert and prominent—resembling the tips of little fingers—exuding an air of wanton, seductive allure.
"Ngh…~"
Xuetang's delicate hand brushed softly against her own ample, heavy breast. The moment she made contact, her slender body arched; she released her lower lip—which she had been biting—and let out a bewitching, breathless gasp. Her beautiful eyes grew hazy, shimmering with a liquid, longing glow.
Clearly, her breasts were exquisitely sensitive. As her right hand—fingers pressing through the silk fabric—gently lifted and kneaded one breast, her left hand reached down toward her crotch. With slender, tapering fingers, she parted the slick, tender, and slightly flushed labia—which had been pressed together in a damp embrace—to reveal the delicate, pink, pearl-like nub nestled within. She began to gently rub and rotate it.
"Squelch… squelch…"
"Mmm… you rascal…"
The beauty murmured, her voice laced with a faint, playful reproach amidst the intense pleasure. Even though he had already become a father, that scoundrel still hadn't returned—how she longed to share this sweetness and joy with him.
Amidst her sweet, whimpering gasps and moans, her slender fingers moved with increasing speed, causing the pink, pearl-like nub to writhe and quiver. A frothy, milky fluid began to gather around the clitoris, stretching into glistening, silvery threads as her fingers continued their rhythmic, squelching massage.
Her entire, lush, and full vulva shifted and rippled with every touch, appearing much like a thin-skinned peach brimming with half-melted, creamy nectar. Suddenly, her fingers slipped into the flower's opening, gently probing and stroking the vaginal canal. The sound of moisture grew soft, thick, and intimate, punctuated by a continuous, wet, rhythmic squelching. "Nng… ah-nn… Li Dong… oh…!"
The sound of splashing intensified, turning into a wet, rhythmic *squelch-squelch*—then, her long, slender, jade-like legs shuddered violently and splayed wide open.
The tendons at the tops of her thighs stood out, taut and defined, as a stream of milky-white fluid spurted forth.
*Pop!*
As the finger was withdrawn—the vaginal walls having contracted tightly in the throes of climax—a spray of nectar erupted, forming a small, milky jet that arched nearly twenty centimeters from between her thighs.