Sex was a physically demanding activity, and at this moment Song Nanyin was more certain of that than ever. She lay prone on the bed, arms wrapped around the fluffy pillow beneath her, savoring the trembling and spasms that followed her climax. Every sensation in this stretch of time could be called aftershock, and that aftershock was often the very essence of an orgasm.

Song Nanyin wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air around her. Besides the ambiguous musk, there was Liu Zhaoran’s scent, impossible to ignore. Song Nanyin squeezed and pressed the pillow, then rubbed her legs against the comfortable pure-cotton sheets beneath her.

Sex was exhausting, and afterward came such comfort. With the two combined, drowsiness came easily. Song Nanyin felt that tonight’s improprieties should be about over, and that it was time to rest.

Liu Zhaoran didn’t seem so hateful anymore. Sleeping beside her might not be so bad…

Song Nanyin drifted hazily, her eyelids drooping shut. Suddenly, her body was wrapped in someone’s arms, and the pillow beneath her was kicked aside by the rolling motion, tumbling to the floor with soft thuds.

Her drowsiness snapped. Song Nanyin glanced at Liu Zhaoran lying on her side, wondering what madness that Black-Hearted Lotus was up to again.

“You…” The single word had barely left her mouth when Song Nanyin forgot what she had meant to say next, forgot even the act of speaking itself.

The exhaust fan overhead whirred on. Unnoticed, snow had already fallen in a layer no longer thin, a sign that Jiahai City’s first snow of the year would not end as a small, trifling affair.

It fell silently through the night, and by morning everyone would see the wanton traces it had left behind.

Liu Zhaoran took the hand resting at Song Nanyin’s side and guided it straight downward, onto a certain wet place. That place was damp and slick, swollen and scalding, and at the barest touch it was eager to release all its heat. Song Nanyin froze for a moment, sleep swept clean away.

“You… what are you doing?” Song Nanyin stole a glance at Liu Zhaoran beside her. She lay on her side, her fair legs parted just a crack.

She was using her own hand to guide Song Nanyin’s down her body, her expression still the same unruffled, elegant mask, save for a flush staining the side of her cheek.

Because of that flush, she became real, and only Song Nanyin knew the malicious playfulness hidden in Liu Zhaoran’s bones. See, it had barely ended, and she was already tormenting her again.

“Team Leader Song, have you forgotten the rule of reciprocity between us? I gave you two orgasms. Do you intend to let it end there?” Liu Zhaoran’s voice was a little hoarse, not the dry rasp of thirst, but the low, husky timbre of lust that had soaked her throat through.

Now that they had shared a bed, Liu Zhaoran was even less restrained with her words, and even more so with her hands. She pressed against Song Nanyin’s fingertips, twisting her waist, thrusting her hips to rub her clitoris against them.

The shift in initiative only made the whole matter more obscene. Song Nanyin could easily make out that wet, scalding patch, and discovered that Liu Zhaoran’s clitoris was pressing against her fingertips in an extremely “lively” state.

It was swollen and hot, grown from a tiny bud into a bulging pearl of flesh. It trembled between her fingertips like a small heart, and the whole area was so wet that no finger could find a place to land, because the slightest touch would be carried along by the thick slickness to some unknown spot.

So wet. That was Song Nanyin’s first thought upon touching her. She stared at Liu Zhaoran in slight astonishment, as if she had not expected the other woman to have such a powerful physiological response. It pulsed against her touch, and then Song Nanyin felt her entire palm grow wetter.

Because Liu Zhaoran was grinding against her palm, deliberately it seemed, smearing all that fluid into the center of her hand. A weeping palm? No, a water-keeping palm.

Desire had become a tangible thing, transformed from a mere word into its most concrete embodiment. It could be water, a lake, an ocean. A river of lust steeped in heat, or clear fluid that clung without cloying.

“You… how did you…” Song Nanyin rarely found herself at a loss for words, but at this moment she truly could not find a fitting phrase for her feelings. She had not expected Liu Zhaoran to be this sensitive, nor that she would want to be treated that way by her. To use a crude word, it would be fucking.

Could Liu Zhaoran, too, want to be turned into a “verb” by her?

“Team Leader Song, I’m not frigid. I’m an adult woman, fully grown in body and mind. Suppressing desire is not a good thing.” Liu Zhaoran’s voice was more beguiling than it had been a minute before, more pleasing than it had been a second before.

Into her clear, cool voice had dissolved a viscous trace of passion.

And she, in action and in word, was telling her that she wanted to make love.

“But I have no strength left.” Song Nanyin muttered quietly, her face red. She did not want to say something so discouraging at a time like this, but the truth was that her whole body had gone so limp she could not even lift a hand, and she truly could not manage such physical labor again.

When she finished, no displeasure appeared on Liu Zhaoran’s face. Instead, she regarded her with interest, continuing to grind against her palm while her gaze wandered downward, coming to rest on the one place on Song Nanyin’s body that could be called hard.

“If Team Leader Song can’t use her hands, isn’t this still hard?” Liu Zhaoran said with a smile, reaching out to flick the little part. At the sudden flick, the little part shuddered, and a trace of milky white fluid seeped from its tip, utterly obscene.

Compared with its candor, Song Nanyin was stunned by Liu Zhaoran’s action and implication. She had not thought Liu Zhaoran would want to use that place. After all, between the two of them, it had always been done the way women did it with women, in method and in feeling.

But… that place, even though it was a part of her own body, Song Nanyin still was not used to its existence, let alone using it to make love to Liu Zhaoran.

“But… it… I… we’re both women.” Song Nanyin mumbled, though the words clearly carried no weight. True, they were both women, but she had one more part than Liu Zhaoran.

“Does Team Leader Song not want to satisfy me?” Liu Zhaoran said, then simply rose and straddled Song Nanyin. The wet place between her legs pressed against Song Nanyin’s belly, while her other hand reached behind to toy with the stiff, burning little part.

Song Nanyin could not see what Liu Zhaoran’s hands were doing; she could only experience them through touch. Liu Zhaoran’s hand was so soft, and it felt so good, squeezing her there.

“It’s not that I don’t want to give it to you, it’s just that I… mm, ah…” Song Nanyin’s words failed to form, her sentences failed to complete. Her voice was startled by a sudden touch and cut off abruptly.

Liu Zhaoran twisted her hips, rubbing the little part with her buttocks and the cleft between them. That place was so tender and so sensitive that under such friction Song Nanyin trembled without pause.

“Team Leader Song, I’m very wet, and I’m very uncomfortable. When I’m like this, my mood tends to turn bad.” Liu Zhaoran spoke, then raised her hips again, only this time she shifted back a little, using her hand to hold the little part and aim it at her private place.

Song Nanyin understood well enough, but this was the first time she had ever experienced such a thing. She lay on the bed, stunned and dumbfounded, forgetting even to speak, until she clearly saw that place of hers, that part she had yet to grow used to, be taken in by Liu Zhaoran’s most intimate place and swallowed bit by bit.

At the first entry, the tightness of the opening surged over her. Like a plastic bag sealed over her head, the constriction and pressure from every direction made Song Nanyin’s feet tense and straighten.

Then the tip sank in. A lethal, scalding heat poured over her all at once, a bowl of oil splashed onto a blazing fire, frying Song Nanyin crisp from the inside out.

She watched Liu Zhaoran’s brows knit slightly, her knees planted on either side of her. Her expression was somewhat restrained, yet the pleasure could not be hidden. A certain comfort suddenly rose in Song Nanyin’s heart. So she was not the only one who felt so good, so good she could hardly hold herself together.

“Ah…”

“Mm…”

When the little part was fully swallowed, Song Nanyin and Liu Zhaoran let out satisfied sighs at the same time. The exhaust fan weakened its hum, as if it knew to read the room and quietly dim its own presence.

The sheer curtain swayed, and on the windowsill a blade of long grass had sneaked out through the gap in the window, as if it, too, wanted to experience the first snow of the day. Or perhaps the room’s overly suggestive atmosphere had left it flushed and restless, and it simply wanted to cool down.

“Black-Hearted Lotus… mm…” Song Nanyin gripped the sheets with both hands, another teardrop squeezed from the corner of her eye. Since this thing had grown on her, it was the first time she had felt this sensation, entirely different from when Liu Zhaoran had used her hands before.

The sensation on her body was subtle, and the emotions in her heart even more complex. As a fellow woman, she understood that such contact was already the most intimate level there was. She had made love to Liu Zhaoran, and had even used this part of herself to enter the other’s body.

Possession. Invasion. A place so private now held her own presence. Song Nanyin could not articulate the feeling; the pleasure of her body threw her mind into chaos, and only one thought was perfectly clear.

Liu Zhaoran looked so beautiful right now.

“Team Leader Song, may I move now? Mm… you make me feel rather good.” Liu Zhaoran’s long, narrow phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, then opened again, half-lidded, gazing at Song Nanyin beneath her in an exceedingly soft, seductive manner.

Before it entered, she had not expected the other’s “thing” to fit her so well. Though it looked rather small and delicate, once it truly invaded, shape became an enormously important factor.

Liu Zhaoran knew very well that her vagina’s sensitive spots all lay on the upper wall, while the protruding point below gave no particularly strong response when touched. The little part curved upward, its tip round and full, its feel soft and springy. And most importantly, it was entirely smooth, making it unexpectedly easy to take in.

It was as if Song Nanyin’s part had grown specifically for her vagina, fitting perfectly at every point.

Liu Zhaoran did not like yielding to desire. She was willing to face her bodily needs frankly, but she disliked her body being swayed during her heat cycle. So each month’s heat cycle was, for her, a matter of getting through with the medicine she had developed herself and a few toys, three days long, and far from pleasant.

At the instant Song Nanyin filled her, Liu Zhaoran felt so good it was as though her tailbone had been unblocked. She let out a long, contented sigh, and without sparing Song Nanyin a moment to recover, immediately began to rise and fall on her.

At times like this, Liu Zhaoran did not care whether Song Nanyin could withstand it. She cared only whether she herself felt good.

“Team Leader Song, that part of yours feels wonderful. Mm… it’s been too long, so I’m very sensitive.” Liu Zhaoran braced her hands on Song Nanyin’s hips, her head tilted slightly back, core tightened, buttocks driving her waist and pelvis, legs exerting together as she rose and fell wantonly on top of Song Nanyin.

Her movements were not very fast, but inside was hot and tight, and for Song Nanyin, using it for the first time, every cycle of being swallowed up, released, then swallowed again was devastatingly stimulating.

Song Nanyin’s eyes reddened again. She pressed her hand over her lower belly, trembling ceaselessly, her toes curling, then slowly uncurling.

“Liu Zhaoran… I… ah… I can’t take it… stop…” Song Nanyin pleaded in a tearful voice, as if she were the one being taken. Her entrance was wet again, scalding clear fluid spilling from her little opening, and the little part trembled endlessly.

“Don’t come. Hold it in.” Liu Zhaoran suddenly bent over her, speaking in a commanding tone, and deliberately squeezed her buttocks tight, clamping the little part inside to squeeze and play with it.

“Black-Hearted Lotus, I really can’t, it’s about to come out.” Song Nanyin rarely had to restrain an urge to relieve herself, but at this moment she felt a mistaken sense of reaching the very limit of endurance.

To be sure, the feeling was completely different from relieving oneself. Something was accumulating in her abdomen, gathering toward that particular place.

Song Nanyin could not say exactly what it was. Her heart pounded almost hard enough to burst from her chest, and the most conspicuous desire, to her own surprise, was that she wanted to hold Liu Zhaoran again.

“Team Leader Song had better hold on, then. I’m the sort of person who will say anything when I’m in a bad mood. For instance, Team Leader Song’s special change, and private bedroom matters like you not being up to it.”