724 The Disappearing Silk Stockings (Thanks for the tip!)

People inevitably seek spiritual stimulation when they no longer have to worry about material conditions.

Inside the Hongqi L5.

The seat was reclined.

Fang Ai's face was flushed red, breathing rapid, one foot stretched out straight, resting on the shoulder of the white driver, toes almost touching the car's ceiling.

"Harder, push harder."

Her eyes lacked focus, words difficult to articulate, temples dampened by sweat, like a fish out of water.

The usually respectful white driver's gaze turned fierce, like treating a slave, he pulled the leather belt around her neck tighter, then violently increased the pace of his thrusts.

Fang Ai desperately arched her head back, eyes starting to roll back, hands unconsciously clutching at the belt strangling her neck, as if in pain and at the same time reaching the pinnacle of pleasure, clearly barely able to breathe but without any struggle, as if obsessed with this feeling at the edge of her limits.

"Faster, go faster..."