Who’s The Boss?

Regarding certain things, Song Qingcheng's body was still uncontrollably stiff even if he was prepared in his heart.

The room started to become messy.

She tried to take the lead, but when the boat reached the bridge, she was just a pool of soft water for everyone to control.

Men and women have never been evenly matched in this matter.

The slipknot at the hem of the denim shirt was untied skillfully. Yu Tingchuan’s wrist watch was already in her nightdress, and the cold strap was on her skin. He saw Song Qingcheng’s crampedness, and his warm breath blew into her ears. : "Did you wear BRA?"

Song Qingcheng's body was weak, but her brain was extremely clear. Hearing Yu Tingchuan's voice, she closed her eyes and did not answer, but sometimes, silence is the most interesting leavening agent.

The relationship between men and women, from the beginning, always wanted to test each other, trying to understand the length of each other's reality.

Only later, many things will deviate from the original expectations.

In her confusion, she heard Yu Tingchuan ask again: "The first time?"

Song Qingcheng's breathing was a little panting, and he opened his eyes again. What caught his sight was the stiff shoulders of a man's shirt. She remembered a sentence, not all men like inexperienced women, especially those who are older and have already experienced Qianfan's man prefers to choose a well-matched mature woman compared to a little girl who knows nothing and may be entangled.

So at the moment, Song Qingcheng looked at the man's eyes and asked, "If not?"

There seemed to be an indescribable charm in the corner of her eyes.

Yu Tingchuan brought her overly mature expression into his eyes, thinking of her past behaviors towards herself, at the moment when she stepped into this room tonight, some simple relationships had become complicated.

"There are some things that don't need to be aggressive." He whispered.

Song Qingcheng raised his head and kissed his thin lips while removing his belt with both hands.

.

Yu Tingchuan came in from the front.

Song Qingcheng felt very swollen, and that moment of pain passed quickly.

The feeling of strangeness gradually became clear, and the limbs became softer and softer, just like the string dolls in other people's hands. Later, as if thrown into the clouds, she couldn't help but want to turn off the light, just lifted it up. She held her hand, her fingers pressed tightly against the pillow, and she was greeted by a more bone-destructive wave.

Finally, could not help but make a low voice.

...

Song Qingcheng was awakened by the vibration of his mobile phone in the dark night.

She opened her eyes, but her heartbeat was getting faster and faster because of the mechanical humming. In the room, the air conditioner was still blowing cold wind, and the thin air conditioner was under the warm body. She wanted to press on the wall. Switch, the other arm went over her head, and there was a bang, and the whole room was illuminated by the warm yellow light.

At the moment the light was on, Song Qingcheng closed his eyes, as if he was asleep.

Beside, there was movement.

Yu Tingchuan seemed to sit up, took the phone from the pocket of his trousers, and soon heard his hoarse voice: "What's the matter?"

"..."

"I can't go away recently... well... I will pick him up at the airport then... You don't need to bring too much luggage and toys... If you need it, you can buy it in Nancheng... Let's do this first.

After speaking, Yu Tingchuan hung up the phone.

Song Qingcheng had already heard more or less from the tone of his speech that he was talking about his son.

And can ignore the call in the middle of the night.

It should be the child's mother.

Yu Tingchuan's ex-wife.

For a moment, Song Qingcheng felt that his situation was a bit like Jinwu Cangjiao, but just now, it was like the wife in the house looking for the trace of her husband who was lying on the third bed on the phone.

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