For now, he could only compare Jiang Yingji with Zhao Zhiran. In truth, Zhao Zhiran was in no way inferior to the "Queen of Shanghai" when it came to figure, appearance, or even temperament; the sensation of her tight, tender, and succulent pussy—clasping him with soft flesh that felt like a thousand tiny mouths constantly sucking—was remarkably similar.
Every time he ejaculated inside Zhao Zhiran, it felt as though his semen was being completely drained away; it was as if a small, unhurried yet stubbornly persistent mouth was chasing the head of his cock, making it impossible to escape that tenacious suction.
Consequently, he would ejaculate with such unusual intensity that it often left him feeling somewhat drained and limp afterward.
However, in terms of the sheer perfection of her physique, Jiang Yingji held the edge. While Zhao Zhiran's pussy was the pinnacle of what a stunning beauty could offer, it lacked the sheer lubricity of the Queen of Shanghai. It was only when he engaged in continuous, deep thrusting—striking the very core of her flower—that Zhao Zhiran would seem to "break through her defenses"; her pussy would suddenly constrict tightly and become incredibly slick and wet.
The Queen of Shanghai, on the other hand, was the most "lubricated" woman he had ever played with. Her juices even had the effect of making his cock tingle; burying his entire member inside her, he could feel a sensation—part cool, part warm—seeping into the shaft, a feeling far more pleasurable than soaking in a hot spring.
Countless folds of tender, delicate flesh clung tightly to his cock, making him want to keep fucking endlessly, barely even feeling the onset of fatigue.
In reality, Tang Lin's experience was somewhat hasty and unrefined; he failed to fully appreciate that these two exquisite women each possessed unique merits, making it difficult to say who was truly superior.
A woman with a "Pure Yin Body" is naturally the perfect woman; her skin is flawless and creamy-white, bearing no scars or imperfections from growing up—truly a being favored by the heavens.
Yet Zhao Zhiran was by no means inferior. Her intellect was extraordinary; a simple gift like perfect memory—which might yield little benefit in the hands of an ordinary person—became something truly remarkable when wielded by her. She possessed such immense control that she could precisely condition every single muscle fiber; through simple exercise alone, she had effortlessly sculpted her physique into perfect proportions—neither too full nor too slender, the very embodiment of a figure that was balanced to perfection.
Not to mention the immense pleasure derived from her formidable learning ability and the way she could freely manipulate her own body during intimacy.
As for her being "lubricated"—that was only because he hadn't yet "broken through" her defenses; had he done so, he would have discovered just how incredibly wet and succulent she could truly be...
Thoughts of Zhao Zhiran—and Tang Lanyan—made Tang Lin's lust flare up once more; though he hadn't yet possessed them, he already regarded both women as his own, firmly within his grasp.
He indulged in fantasies of having them lie in the same bed as the "Queen of Shanghai," all of them at his mercy to toy with as he pleased; at the mere thought, his cock swelled even more aggressively.
The intense heat of lust threatened to cloud his mind, yet simultaneously—for reasons unknown—he felt a strange, fluttering sensation deep within his heart. It was a mix of anger and regret that ultimately transformed into a peculiar, tender desire to cherish and adore them.
It made him want to lick every inch of their bodies, from head to toe, and share deep, passionate, wet kisses with them...
Tang Lin couldn't fathom where such thoughts were coming from—
They were completely out of character for him; previously, even when encountering Zhao Zhiran, his only desire had been to pin her down and fuck her hard to satisfy his urges.
The idea of licking her entire body or savoring every inch of her skin had never even crossed his mind; he would have found it far more gratifying to simply blast a couple of loads deep inside her tender pussy.
Yet now, Tang Lin found himself unable to suppress this impulse; it was as if another person inhabited his body, and he was being swayed by that other person's emotions. This sense of disorientation drove Tang Lin to the brink of madness; the only way to soothe it seemed to be to give in to the urge...
Tang Lin huffed as he pressed Jiang Yingji's jade-like feet together and guided her shapely, peach-hued knees so that her legs crossed; her flawless feet were thus displayed before him, posed like twin lotus blossoms.
Her bare feet were slender yet possessed soft, graceful lines. The heels were round and full without protruding awkwardly—resembling goose eggs laid flat—and curved smoothly into the insteps; the soles were tender and soft, with a lush, fleshy fullness.
A captivating, gentle arch ran from heel to ball of the foot, complemented by ten toes that gleamed like peeled scallion shoots. They were neatly curled, with pads that looked like smooth, lustrous pink pearls.
The big toes, in particular, were long and full with a slight upward curve, their lines extending elegantly.
Pressed together, the feet—tender, fleshy, and pale with a soft, peachy-pink flush—quivered slightly. Like lotus petals, they combined mature contours with an indescribable, youthful delicacy.
Even at such close range, not a single flaw was visible.
Few people ever got to admire the "Queen of the Demon Capital's" feet from this angle—and the sight just below, of a dark, massive cock enveloped by smooth, plump, succulent lips, was enough to ignite a raging fire of lust.
Tang Lin couldn't resist leaning in, pressing his face against the soles of her feet and nuzzling them; the skin was as smooth and delicate as silken tofu—cool, tender, and sending a tingling shiver through his body upon contact. *Slurp... *pop*...*
Tang Lin opened his mouth and latched onto her tender, alabaster toes—shaped like delicate young bamboo shoots—sucking greedily as if they were coated in honey. In truth, the sensation wasn't far off; the fragrance of her skin held a faint, sweet musk—the scent of her delicate perspiration.
He pressed his nose deep into the soft hollows between her toes, inhaling voraciously, then slid the tip of his tongue into the secret, tender gaps between them, wriggling and licking with abandon.