Chapter 182 Please help me blow
Liang Jishen looked at her, his eyes becoming increasingly deep and fiery. "Can you give me a blow job?"
"I won't." He Sang's cheeks flushed. "What if Madam Liang breaks in?"
He frowned, "What's wrong with breaking in?"
A layer of red frost appeared on He Sang's cheekbones and forehead, and he looked pink and white from the inside out, like a peeled red pomegranate seed. "She will laugh at me. I won't be able to see her anymore."
Liang Jishen was confused, "I can't see her?"
He Sang lowered his head and carefully touched his belt buckle, "Return to Jinyue Mansion..."
The man stared at her for a while, then suddenly realized something, "Blow my face, it hurts."
It turned out he had misunderstood. He Sang's skin was burning. She leaned in front of him. Liang Jishen smiled and pinched her chin. "What are you thinking about in your little head? You have such a flexible mind at the age of 23. Will you be my teacher at the age of 33? What about at the age of 43?"
She was so hot that she broke free, but he dragged her back and hugged her from behind, "Did I teach you?"
"Li Zhen."
He Sang couldn't break free. Liang Jishen's arms held her tightly in his embrace, "Zeng Mingwei's wife can't teach you anything good."
She is a gossip and a troublemaker, while He Sang is tight-lipped and honest. It is strange that they can get along well with each other.
"Is the CD in the second drawer of the bedroom a gift from her?"
He Sang was annoyed, "You peeped into my privacy."
Liang Jishen pulled down her hair and smoothed it with his fingers. "I ordered a necklace and put it in the drawer as a surprise for you, but you surprised me first."
That scale made Liang Jishen, who was always abstinent, excited. He Sang's small body could actually handle it, and she never bothered him. He didn't remember her trying it before.
"I didn't watch it!" He Sang flushed. "Li Zhen lied to me it was a psychology lecture on conquering men, but when it started playing, it turned out to be a movie, so I turned it off immediately."
"Subdue me?"
She bit her lower lip and said nothing.
Liang Jishen pulled her shoulders and said, "You're secretly plotting against me with Zeng Mingwei's wife, aren't you?"
He Sang couldn't help laughing. "Li Zhen said there are three types of men: little milk dogs, little wolf dogs, and little wild dogs. She's curious which one you are."
"Which one?"
"I didn't tell Li Zhen what kind you are." He Sang thought for a second, "I didn't subdue you."
"Haven't you conquered me yet? I only have eyes for you, and there's no other woman in my life." He sneered, his hot breath like a column, pressing directly against her. "Your methods are the most brilliant."
She couldn't dodge in time, and the heat was unbearable. She shrank her neck slightly and said, "How can I do that?"
Liang Jishen laughed as he leaned against her. "Women's tactics are too obvious, so men will be on guard. You're better off without tactics. By the time men realize what's happening, it's too late."
He Sang curled up even more. He used his index finger to untie the straps of her long skirt, and with a flick of his wrist, the collar of her skirt opened wide. Her black underwear made her skin look like cream, and every inch of her delicate white was clearly visible.
Particularly eye-catching.
He Sang was thin and small-boned, and even a couple of pounds of weight couldn't hide her flesh. She seemed soft and limp everywhere. At the beginning of the year, when he pinched her, she looked skin and bones. Liang Jishen's large palms pressed against her waist, fingertips against fingertips, just enough to hold her. Only three months later, when he pinched her again, her delicate skin and tender flesh had become too plump, and there was a centimeter of space between his fingertips.
She half crouched, half sat, "Then you are a big wolfdog."
Liang Jishen lay down, naturally supporting her, spreading her legs and straddling her waist. "Big wolfdog?"
He Sang patiently explained, "Dairy puppies are white, and wolfhounds are black."
"You like white, right?" The man exerted force on his hips, deliberately shaking her hard.
Her hips stiffened, and she noticed his body's reaction. "No..." He Sang went down, "We can't sleep together in the old house."
The night before the chairman's funeral, He Sang also stayed in the guest room alone. Liang Jishen sneaked in late at night and didn't do anything. He just hugged her and fell asleep. She was unconscious. When she woke up in the morning, she found him in bed. He quickly changed his clothes and sat properly at the dressing table.
Sister Fang came into the room to clean up and was startled, thinking that she was not asleep.
She said nothing, said good morning to Sister Fang, and went next door to wash up. She waited until Liang Jishen finished tidying up and met her at the stairs. The whole process was like a spy war.
In fact, everyone in the Liang family knew that they had slept together and lived together.
The reason why she insisted on this measure was, firstly, Ji Xilan was not satisfied with her, and being so blatantly affectionate under his nose would make her look cheap; secondly, all the sons of the Liang family were unmarried and had many servants, so being more dignified would both respect men and have self-respect.
He Sang went back to the guest room to take a shower. Liang Jishen, who had been running around outside for a day and a night, also finished washing up in the room. He was wearing dark blue home clothes. The curves of his collarbone and jaw were very strong, and his stubble was shaved cleanly and neatly.
She remembered him working at the Municipal Procuratorate, wearing the same uniform, a stern, solemn look, a vibrant expression. Many mornings, she'd drowsily crawl out of bed, kneeling beside his bed, buttoning his buttons and tying his tie. He was solemn and erect, a bit of the mature, old-fashioned air of a veteran cadre. She'd tickle his Adam's apple, his armpits, tickle him, make him laugh. Liang Jishen didn't like to laugh, didn't appreciate the little banter between men and women, but he understood her intentions and smiled in sync with her gestures.
"Mrs. Zhao gave you writing brushes, inkstones, and paper as a gift for your wedding? Don't guests give gifts of cash or antiques?"
Liang Jishen was leaning on the sofa reviewing documents. He looked up inadvertently and saw that He Sang had changed into a new dress. Cheng Xun had bought three dresses that night, two black dresses of different materials and this beige one. She chose a long dress that gave her a slightly mature look and was more generous. The white one looked very bright on her.
He gestured, "Turn around."
He Sang had her back to him. Her belt had a leather bow at the back. Cheng Xun had bought it based on her skinniest size, and it was now quite tight. He pulled it loose a little, "Are you pregnant?"
She was stunned, "No."
Liang Jishen stroked her abdomen, which was also a little bulging. It used to be very flat. "Is it fat, or is it because of the little He Sang?"
"Why is it Xiao Hesang and not Xiao Lao San?"
The man also admitted, "Because it's hard to hear."
"It wouldn't sound good if Secretary Liang and President Liang had a son," He Sang muttered. "Little eldest, little second—it's like giving birth to a little old man."
"Really not pregnant?" Liang Jishen stroked her belly again and joked with her, "With my physical strength, this shouldn't be the case."
He Sang also estimated the date. She had been dieting for many years, her body was weak and unbalanced, and her menstruation had always been irregular, but it was almost these two days.
"I'll try the pregnancy test tomorrow."
"No need for that. I'll take you to the hospital for a checkup." Liang Jishen covered her chest with his palm. "Try to grow a little more and feed my daughter."
He Sang pushed his hand away and came out of the guest room, just as Liang Chihui was going upstairs.
The man stood at the escalator entrance, looking up slightly. She was under a headlight, and the sky was covered with dark clouds outside the window. It was no longer the good weather in the morning. A gust of wind shook the branches. He Sang went against the shadows of the trees, but the shadows fell on Liang Chihui's face. His eyebrows were shrouded in a faint halo, and his straight nose was hidden in the darkness.
"Mr. Liang, you're back."
Her eyes were moist, as if filled with affection, and sparkling in the light.
Although Liang Chihui was not promiscuous, he was not completely inexperienced. He knew clearly when a woman's passion would surge.
"Miss He, I'm back."
He laughed, and in a trance, a sentence echoed in his ears, "Chi Hui, you're back."
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