Evening.
A little after seven.
The sky was nearly dark, the sun almost set.
In the north room of the Courtyard House, Dong Xuebin was still massaging Zhang Longjuan's body—her arms, thighs, neck. His movements had become increasingly mechanical. At first, Dong Xuebin had enjoyed it well enough. After all, such a flirtatious Great Beauty was lying there letting him massage her, and he had taken plenty of little liberties over half the day. But one hour passed, then three, then five. Dong Xuebin had long since gone numb and was nearly falling asleep. He kneaded her drowsily, barely knowing where his hands were, utterly exhausted.
Huff.
His hand went soft.
Dong Xuebin paid it no mind and kept kneading.
It was only after rubbing for about another minute, when he gave her a sleepy glance, that his hand jerked. He nearly fainted from fright and instantly woke up—both his hands were actually on Big Sister Zhang's chest. No wonder it had felt so soft and fleshy. He had kneaded the wrong place. Dong Xuebin felt terribly awkward. Even when he had occasionally taken advantage of Big Sister Zhang before, he had at most brushed against her cleavage while massaging her collarbones or grazed the edge of her ample butt while kneading her waist. He had never dared lay his hands on her so directly. Yet here he was, grabbing her chest outright. He hurriedly took a breath and carefully removed his hands from her bra. A small patch of her skin was visibly red from his kneading, and her bra had become wrinkled, with one piece of lace flipped up. Dong Xuebin quickly used his fingernails to smooth the edge back into place, swiftly and carefully cleaning up the "crime scene."
All right, no problem now.
*That gave me