Song Guanchao's mind crashed for a moment.
When did she wake up?
"You…"
Just as he was about to speak, a fragrant breeze came, and Zhou Qian pressed her lips against his.
Zhou Qian's lips were slightly thick but very delicate and extremely sensual.
Her lips were ice cold, devoid of any warmth, like chilled lychees.
She took the initiative to extend her tongue into Song Guanchao's mouth.
Song Guanchao subconsciously extended his tongue, intertwining with hers.
She grabbed Song Guanchao's hand and shoved it into her jeans.
Her waist was slender, and although her jeans were tight-fitting, there was still enough space.
She forcefully pushed Song Guanchao's hand downward.
Wu Yun had something; she wanted it too.
Her buttocks were exceptionally voluptuous, and it was hard to imagine that the jeans could contain such fullness.
Song Guanchao grabbed firmly, and Zhou Qian, as if she'd received feedback, clutched Xiao Song's hand and quickly stood up.
