Celebrity reception scene

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 14:59:16

After waiting for over three hours, nearing noon, news finally came that she would arrive soon. Hotel
staff lined up to greet her, and police and security guards gathered at the entrance. The previously listless reporters also began to
nervously take their positions.

Ever since I learned from entertainment news that she was coming here to attend a brand endorsement event, I had been eagerly anticipating
this day. For so many years, I had only seen her on screen or in movies and TV dramas; since her
retirement from television, she had rarely appeared on screen. After so many years, with the changing times and
the comebacks of some well-known artists in the entertainment industry, I finally saw her return. This event gave me the opportunity
to see her in person.

Noticing the change in the reporters' demeanor, I wisely secured a spot near the front. A dozen minutes later,
a car slowly pulled up to the hotel entrance. Accompanied by her assistant, she got out
and walked towards me, surrounded by a crowd. She was still the same; time hadn't left many marks. Her appearance caused a stir among the crowd, and
the atmosphere became enthusiastic. Hotel security immediately tensed up, forming a human wall to block the fans on both sides.

She smiled and accepted the flowers. Today, she wore a snow-white dress, her wavy hair flowing over her shoulders, exuding elegance and nobility
. The dress perfectly accentuated her slender and graceful waist. Even in her fifties, she maintained a
stunning figure.

Her face always held that signature gentleness, her sweet and serene smile seemingly stopping time.
It was this unforgettable smile that touched me for a lifetime. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes did not
diminish the charm of her large, watery eyes; they remained as charming and witty as ever, still captivating and alluring.

She hadn't changed at all; in fact, she had become more charming. Like a white snake spirit in flowing white robes,
time only added to her allure, making her more radiant with age. Every inch of her exuded the air of a noblewoman, her
charm surpassing even her former self. Like a perfectly ripe fruit brimming with moisture and nutrients, she exuded a captivating allure.

She calmly greeted the surrounding fans, who responded with frenzied screams.
Instead of rushing to the hotel, she casually paused to greet her supporters, igniting their
frenzy .

Her image gradually drew closer in the camera's view, the sacred image of the white snake slowly overlapping and intertwining with the elegant, mature
woman . I remember seeing her in flowing white robes as the white snake on television when I was nine years old; that pure
and perfect image is deeply etched in my heart. At that time, she was already a 30-year-old woman. Now, 20 years have passed. She stands
vividly before me, lacking the ethereal quality of her ancient costume and the sanctity of her white robes, but
her gentleness and elegance remain unchanged. Finally, seeing her up close, so close to us , is a completely different feeling from

seeing her on screen, where she seems so near yet so far in reality .
I struggled to reach out my hand through the security guards, hoping
for attention. People behind me pushed and shoved, countless hands waving around me. Shouts of "I love you
!" filled the air.

The fans' enthusiasm infected her; she stepped out from behind her assistants, and security cleared a path for her to shake hands with each
fan . I put down my camera and was fortunate enough to touch her hand. Her hand was warm and delicate,
without the rough wrinkles of a middle-aged woman's; it was still very well-maintained.

"After decades, I can finally see you!" I expressed my feelings.

I excitedly rushed through the security guards' blockade and gave the person I had dreamed of a deep hug. She, a
seasoned artist, was slightly surprised but gracefully accepted my embrace.

I barely had time to feel her warmth, her softness—happiness came too quickly. The touch I had longed for day and night had
come true in an instant.

My luck drew envy from the already emotionally charged fans around me. Those fans, who had maintained their composure due to the security guards'
intimidation, finally couldn't contain their emotions.

Just then, a male fan rushed forward and tried to hug her. Caught off guard, she clearly hadn't
expected this. Those around her erupted in anger, swarming forward like octopuses, pulling
her into the crowd. Security guards, seeing the situation escalating, quickly protected her and tried to separate her from the crowd.

I was furious; my hard-won opportunity to get close to her had been ruined.
Seeing her pale face, I rushed forward without hesitation, causing chaos.

People surged forward like they were on steroids, even bystanders stopping to watch. She was surrounded by
supporters , her assistant barely managing to shield her from the crowd.

"Take Sister Ya away first!" Her assistant handed her over to me for protection. My earlier actions in defending her led her
assistant to believe I was a rational supporter.

"No, there are too many people." Her assistant desperately tried to create space for her, but the
crazed fans still reached out from the crowd, attempting to pull her away. There was no way to get out.

The crazed fans waved their hands. In the already cramped space, and having to avoid the harassment of fans, she
willingly leaned into my arms.

This close contact, compared to the previous staged embrace, no longer felt so distant; I could clearly
feel the warmth of her body. That indistinct scent of perfume once again filled the air around me. From her
initial reserve to being forced by circumstances, she completely nestled in my arms.

Her mindset seemed to shift from trepidation to finally accepting my embrace with ease. This infinitely ignited my
desire to protect her.

I stretched out my hands, blocking the hands that reached for her. This gesture brought us incredibly close, like lovers tenderly
protecting each other.

I never imagined I would have such an intimate opportunity with her. Hearing her breath, feeling her
heartbeat, so truly experiencing her real presence—no longer the sacred fairy on the screen, no longer
unattainable. She would be nervous, bewildered; now she was just a little woman in my arms, needing my protection.

Her emotions didn't calm down because of my protection; instead, the change in her emotions gradually altered
the rhythm , making it abnormally rapid. It seemed like she had just experienced strenuous exercise, or perhaps it was a
normal physical reaction to the change in her emotions.

Her breathing became increasingly rapid, and her body swayed unnaturally. I had to step back and open the window.
To prove my innocence. I had no intention of defiling her; her hips rubbing against my groin. I didn't want her
to misunderstand, even though I still held her in the utmost respect. Perhaps my
closeness made her uncomfortable, so I moved away. Even though it was just a sliver of space.

She moved closer again, as if trying to escape, her breathing becoming increasingly ambiguous, a hint of allure.
Although she tried her best to restrain herself, she couldn't suppress it.

My groin was right on her hips, rubbed by her lingering breaths and her full, powerful buttocks. I became erect
without restraint.

I could only try my best to control my desire, actively retreating to make room for her.
Although the situation seemed chaotic, she was actually relatively well protected, but from her reaction, I didn't
know where her unease came from.

Her breathing became increasingly disordered, her heavy panting as she tried to back away. But behind her was a sea of people
forming human wall, leaving no way to retreat. I deliberately observed her situation; I was half a head taller than her, and from behind I could see her
ears were bright red.

Something was wrong! I suddenly realized something was amiss. Standing on tiptoe to look ahead, I saw the wrinkles in
the chest . A pair of large hands, hidden among countless others, were taking advantage of the chaos to roam over her chest, stealthily assaulting her
breasts. Good heavens! Someone was actually sexually harassing a big star like her in broad daylight, in front of everyone.
All her abnormalities were caused by these hands. I never imagined that
such a wicked sight would occur at such a reception.

My heart suddenly raced; my goddess was being ravaged by a pair of hands. I had the urge to stop it immediately,
yet I couldn't resist the temptation to continue watching. The hands became even more audacious with practiced ease. The movements went from gentle
caresses to forceful grabbing and kneading.

The fingers caved in, then slowly returned to their original position. Her breasts were clearly not as elastic and supple as they had been in her youth. I secretly
observed those hands that had crossed the line, caressing her chest before precisely grasping and squeezing the protruding part. Then
they played with it roughly. Oh! That was the sound of her lips almost touching mine, then swallowing it back.

My heart screamed to stop them, but my body remained motionless, observing. My soul seemed to be shaken.
The perfect image I had always held of her, the one for whom even the slightest sexual thought would make
me feel unforgivable, was now strangely craving those hands to continue their wanton advance. This gave me an
unprecedented pleasure;

my suppressed desires erupted uncontrollably. I let my lower body run rampant, pressing against her buttocks,
feeling the burning heat as if it wanted to melt her dress. Anyway, in public, a celebrity like her
wouldn't expose this shameful affair; she'd probably even help cover it up. Those hands dared to be so brazen because they knew
that. I could no longer control the wicked thoughts in my heart. And he naturally made various
excuses

filthy thoughts of contact with her anus. It seemed that only by connecting with her genitals could he release
the pent-up sexual desire in his body.

Unable to bear the fondling of her breasts, she suddenly turned around, pretending to be afraid to hide the fact that she was being sexually harassed, and
hid in my arms. Her unsteady breathing fell on my chest, and I continued to act as a maintenance worker as if nothing had happened.

I was glad that she had chosen to escape, just as I had imagined, and did not reprimand or expose me. Celebrities, especially
those with good images like her, cannot accept even the slightest negative news. In order to maintain their glamorous image,
they can only compromise. This made me no longer satisfied with simple physical contact. My lower body consciously moved towards her genitals, but
my eyes remained fixed on those hands.

The owner of those hands did not give up and actually reached over and found her buttocks. He launched an attack on her full buttocks.
The firmness of her buttocks was greater than that of her breasts. He grabbed and squeezed her buttocks with large, open movements, reflecting the elasticity of her buttocks.

Her breath was warm, her body temperature rising several degrees.

Perhaps due to the obstruction of the view, the hands lingered on her buttocks for a moment before settling on her anus.
A finger was inserted, along with her dress, revealing the folds of her anus.

I couldn't see her face, but from her trembling body, I sensed her discomfort; the dry, unlubricated
anus felt like it was about to tear open from the insertion of a foreign object.

Instead of anger, I felt an inexplicable excitement, a desire to go deeper.
Normally, such scenes rarely evoked my emotions, but now, with my idol in the picture,
I felt an inexplicable longing. The hands cooperated, inserting two fingers together. This time it was much more difficult; the fingers only
penetrated a small section before being expelled from her anus.

The owner of the hands continued the insertion plan, this time using force. This series of actions emboldened the owner of
the hands , who forcefully pushed in with all her might. Her body trembled.

One could imagine the tearing pain in her anus. She shrank back, finally turning away
. Having enjoyed numerous advances into my arms throughout the day, I welcomed her actions. The difficulty of invading her anus confirmed that
it remained untouched virgin territory. I couldn't control my lustful thoughts.

Freed from the harassment, she covered her face with her hands. Although there were security guards protecting her, they were all
pushing, pulling, and touching her from above. Perhaps it was precisely because they were only focused on her upper body that they left an opportunity for someone with ulterior motives.
A great opportunity! I was overjoyed. Her body was now seemingly exposed to me without any defenses. I had
imagined being close to her countless times, and I had fantasized about caressing her body. But I never thought I would actually
have the chance today.

With someone else paving the way for me, if I harassed her now, she would assume it was that person.
Thinking this way, I had no more obstacles and began to act without any psychological burden.

My hands easily slipped under her armpits, gently cupping her breasts. My trembling hand secretly
pressed against her breast, a turbulent surge of emotion welling up inside me, a thrill of crossing taboos. No one could have imagined someone would be so
bold as to molest this dignified and elegant star in public. It
felt .

I observed her expression; perhaps driven by preconceived notions, or perhaps by past experience, her reaction was rather peculiar, a sense of
something lost and then regained. Or perhaps she was so panicked she didn't even realize it.

I'd imagined countless times what her naked body would look like. How
round and , like in those photoshopped images of her online—though in reality, those photoshopped
images of foreign women were far too exaggerated;

the bra severely hampered my sense of touch. I desperately wanted to unhook it and truly caress and feel
her breasts. It isolated them from my sense of touch; no wonder that guy was squeezing so hard. Otherwise, it
would be no different than pinching a bra. I increased the pressure of my grip. The softness in my hands was plentiful. I admired that guy for finding her nipples under
these circumstances.

I continued to observe her reaction; it exceeded my expectations, more intense than before, accompanied by
fierce resistance.

I hadn't expected her reaction to be so strong, ignoring the fan who had been trying to grab her. Somehow,
a hand grabbed hers; it happened so suddenly. I didn't even have time to react. Countless hands seemed to have found their target,
crowding towards her.

Luckily, I had my hands cupping her chest. Using brute force, I felt like I was about to burst her breasts. I managed to
steady her, but I couldn't protect myself from the wild grabbing at my head. Somehow, my dress
strap was grabbed. Those hands pulled at whatever they could find. The straps were sturdy enough not
to tear but the dress was stretched incredibly long.

At this point, the assistants around me were powerless to help. I could only maintain this stalemate
.

I changed my stance, holding her tightly around the waist. After the previous crisis, she
was panting , looking rather tired. Once I was stable, I saw a golden opportunity. Her dress was pulled high
, giving me a tremendous chance.

"Everyone calm down! Your love for Ya-jie shouldn't be used to hurt her!"

I shouted, receiving a grateful smile in return.
The pull eased considerably. They just wanted to get close to their idol; although they realized their recklessness, they didn't want to give up
this opportunity. Although they didn't really want to hurt her, this freed one of my hands. I easily slipped my hand
inside her bra. My fingers touched her still well-maintained, smooth skin. Through her bra, I finally
felt her real breasts.

I didn't dare squeeze them tightly, but I could sense their size. After several
breastfeeding sessions, they weren't as full-breasted as those of actresses, but they were natural. They had loosened because of breastfeeding.
They weren't the fullness of a young woman's breasts, but rather the loose, inelastic
softness that comes with age, a transition from firmness to sagging. Her nipples were low-set, and her breasts were pointed, making them prone to sag.

The nipples were large, probably from too much suckling, not very delicate. I could feel
the
bumps on her areolas. These bumps were formed because of the secretion of a substance that lubricates and protects the nipples. Areola bumps are caused by normal sebum secretion. This feeling didn't
disappoint ; instead, it excited me inexplicably.

I gently stroked those bumps, scraping them with my fingernail—rough yet textured. I repeatedly stimulated her increasingly enlarged
nipples. These were her breasts, and I wanted to feel every part of them.

Completely ignoring her emotions and changes. I focused solely on feeling, imagining
how full and tender her breasts were in her youth. I could only use my imagination based on their current aged appearance. The traces of
the past , the abundant milk. The feeling of biting into them.

I fantasized with my fingers, what it would feel like to lick them with my tongue, the rough
touch of my tongue gliding over her delicate skin. I used to have such a filthy desire to lick every part of her body. Although I couldn't achieve that now
, I had accomplished something to some extent.

Oh! A moan escaped my lips, and my hard nails unknowingly pierced her breasts. Continuous moans, her
body heat reaching unprecedented levels.

She seemed to be caught in the act of intercourse, suppressing her moans. I had clearly stopped what I was doing, but could it be…

Just as I had imagined, that hand had already taken the first step. Those hands stopped precisely where they were,
placing her genitals directly into those wicked hands. They covered her private parts,
the trembling hands realizing the exquisite object they were touching, and without hesitation,
inserted two fingers through her skirt.

The hands began to thrust, having already reached the heart of the matter, grasping her most exquisite part. No wonder she didn't react to my movements on
her breasts . Her true, vital point had been breached.

My God! I was shocked again. Here, in the crowd, in front of fans who
only , I had openly penetrated her body. Who would have thought their idol, their
beloved, would be violated here, right before their eyes, by two fingers? The person her fans were now desperately supporting
had two fingers inside her.

I didn't know how to release the pent-up lust within me. The swelling desire almost made me want
to release my penis.

I pressed hard against her buttocks, my swollen penis rubbing against them relentlessly.
The heat of my body was almost entirely concentrated there, a burning desire to penetrate her.

Her front was clearly looser than her back, two fingers slipping through the fabric of her skirt. The taut skirt outlined
the contours of her genitals. The force of the fingers was almost entirely concentrated on her private parts, which were bearing the full weight of
the powerful . But to maintain her image, she stubbornly suppressed herself. She absolutely didn't want
anyone present to see her current wretched state.

Resigned and resigned, she allowed those hands to continue their act of intercourse, encouraging their actions. I
instinctively lifted her skirt. One hand slipped inside, joining in, caressing her buttocks, sliding down to
her anus. The rough anus, with its rings of flesh.

For some reason, I, who usually loathed this area, was now carefully caressing it. I even wanted to
kiss and lick it. The thought that this was where she relieved herself filled me with an indescribable excitement.

I moved her around her thighs; the area in front was wet. I shifted her position, freeing myself from her grasping hands. I pulled her
panties down to one thigh. My hand made direct contact with her soft, fine pubic hair, from top to bottom. Her…
The alluring vulva, wet and slippery, evoked countless fantasies.

Her labia were thickly exposed, allowing me to clearly feel its shape. This was
the secret . I could finally explore it. There was no girlish awkwardness, no mature woman's desire. There was no
strong resistance during penetration, nor excessive urgency upon withdrawal.

I unzipped my pants, observing my surroundings. Her assistants were all facing away from us, and the fans had
little angle to see. I quietly released my already erect penis, unleashing what had been pent up for so long
. I deliberately placed it in front of her hand as she tried to adjust her skirt.

Her hand reacted as if it were a hot potato, trying to pull away. I grabbed it and pressed it against my penis. Her
cool hand tightly gripped my aroused penis. I stroked it back and forth with force.

After releasing it, I secretly slipped inside her skirt. She seemed to realize the intrusion. She tried to close her thighs. I
stopped her with my knee and spread her left leg, lifting it up.

I pressed down on my erect penis and inserted it between her legs, which were spread apart by her high heels. Realizing
something was wrong, she tried to stop me again, but I held her hand, preventing her from moving.

Her other hand was held by a fan who refused to let go, making it impossible for her to move. She resisted more fiercely than
ever before , but she still hesitated and didn't make any big movements, which strengthened my resolve. I pulled down
a corner of her panties, and my penis easily found the entrance to her vagina. My thick, hard penis welcomed that wonderful thing, well-lubricated after foreplay
. There wasn't much resistance. I slowly entered, section by section. I didn't want to
lose the process of entering her body too quickly.

I could imagine her humiliated expression. Once the head of my penis was fully inside, I stopped, feeling the pressure inside her.
I didn't know how it was for a mature woman of her age. But she felt wonderful, though I couldn't rule out my mental state.

It wasn't as relaxed as I had imagined. My penis was enveloped in a gentle yet powerful vagina, stimulating
every one of senses.

Gradually, I fully inserted my penis into her body. The slow process seemed to amplify my body's sensitivity.
The insertion itself felt magnified.

Finally, I was completely inside her. Perhaps nothing could have given me a more satisfying, liberating
feeling . Years of fantasies seemed to have been realized in this moment. We were tightly united as one.

Again, I worried, observing the confined space. Most eyes were focused on her, and on
her upper body, while the crowd blocked most of the view of her lower body. At most, they could see our tightly connected genitals,
but absolutely nothing inside.

Perhaps no one would have imagined that such a clandestine act would unfold here.
Under , and under the watchful eyes of her fans,

I embraced her deeply from behind, fondling her breasts. To outsiders, I was merely protecting her
from being pulled away by the fans. No one would have imagined that our sexual organs would be intimately connected, that a man
's penis would be inserted into the vagina of an artist like her in the middle of a crowded street, in that incomplete, standing
position.

I wasn't afraid people would hear us, because no matter how much we shouted, they wouldn't hear us. But I
still carefully performed the acts of lovemaking, making sure no one could see the large thrusting movements. I blended my
protective gesture into the movements of my lower body, so that others would only see me protecting her.

Suddenly, she lost her balance, pulling me backward with her. The force that had been maintaining our balance suddenly vanished
because the strap of her dress had snapped, causing us to lose our balance and fall backward.

She groaned and sat down in my lap, which was already on the ground. My penis, already inside her, found
an even better position, deeply inserted into her vagina.

She struggled to stand up, but as soon as she did, her legs gave way, and she sat back down. My penis was still
inside her. How could she possibly get up in this state? Besides, without her body as cover, my penis would be exposed
to everyone.

I turned her around, and we faced each other, at this distance, in this delicate situation. Our
eyes met. Her face was flushed, her brows deeply furrowed. Her tightly pressed red lips remained pursed, still suppressing her emotions. Her watery
eyes were filled with surprise. She never imagined that I, a seemingly refined fan, would be
the pervert who sexually harassed and assaulted her.

I couldn't bear to meet her sharp, disgusted gaze, and with one hand, I supported myself by lifting her up. My
penis remained inside her.

Only then did I notice that one side of her dress was torn, and it had slipped down, revealing her half-fallen bra.
We remained in a position of intercourse. I could see very closely
the half-exposed shoulder of her dress, which had slipped down due to the missing strap, and the half-fallen bra. Half of her breast was bare.

Before, I had only felt it with my hands, but now I could see it for myself. Her breasts were fair, and because she often
wore off-the-shoulder clothes, the skin tone of her shoulders was distinct from her breasts.

She didn't have many of the problems that come with childbirth. Her breasts had undergone tremendous
changes due to childbirth; they were soft and rough, covered with stretch marks like earthworms. I didn't know if it was
due to her naturally fair skin or perfect maintenance.

In her current position, I had the opportunity to kiss her breasts. I pulled down one of her bras, which was about to slip off. Her

entire breast lay naked before me.

The flesh-pink nipple gleamed with a deep, dark sheen. The areola was a reddish-pinkish-black. Without
the bra's protection, her breast slumped softly downwards, like a ripe, large peach, its weight bending
the branch.

She tried to push my head away with both hands, but my strength was too weak, and my head was firmly buried against her chest. I extended my tongue and
carefully licked her breasts. Such carefully maintained beauty
trembled under the provocation of my tongue, both fearful and yearning.

Sucking on that one nipple, the sensitive bud swelled and grew. Watching the nipple gradually turn red, I knew this was the one
she used to nurture her child. I didn't have much desire for anything, because the current situation meant we could be discovered at any moment.

"This way," the hotel security guard finally said. We hesitantly got up, and she wisely cooperated.
My actions. I protected her chest from being exposed. At that moment, we seemed to have reached some kind of tacit understanding.
Strangely enough, my penis didn't soften; it remained fiercely pressed against her crotch.

I took off my coat to cover her chest.

"Ms. Zhao, what's wrong?"

"My high heels broke."

"Please help Ms. Zhao back to the hotel. Today, our hotel management was poor, and we will take responsibility for your losses."

I had originally planned to take the opportunity to leave, but I was mistaken for her assistant. So, I simply helped her up while keeping my
genitals inside her skirt, ignoring her resistance. No matter what the security guards thought, they didn't consider the
losses she would suffer today. The security guards cleared a path while blocking the onslaught of fans.

"No! There are too many people. Protect the artist."

After the initial chaos, even more people had gathered to watch the spectacle, and some didn't even understand the situation before
rushing in.

The hotel security guards formed a human wall to block the onslaught.

"Sister Ya! I'm a reporter from the entertainment newspaper. How are you now?"

A group of reporters carrying cameras rushed in from the crowd and
began filming and interviewing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a scene from a hotel. As you can see, her arrival caused chaos today, but
we have finally found her. She is only a little tired and is not injured."

She forced a smile at the media, dealing with the reporters' questions outside. At the same time, she ignored her
wariness of me.

I seemed to see her again, so poised and graceful on the screen. Her refined charm teased me,
the one who had witnessed her pulling down her clothes.

Her lower body was still wet, her nipples still red and swollen. Yet she could pretend nothing was wrong when facing the reporters. She
maliciously lifted her skirt to her buttocks. She

pulled down a corner of her panties. She used her thigh to pry open her legs, which she was trying to close. My penis forcefully shoved back
into her vagina, which wasn't as loose as I'd imagined. Perhaps it was because of the standing position, making her
vagina clench tightly.

My entry was rather gentle; I didn't dare expose this. I gave her a chance to catch her breath.
I observed her expression carefully. Her face displayed a variety of emotions: embarrassment, pain, humiliation.
Her gentle expression was almost crumbling.

"You look terrible. Are you feeling unwell?"

"No...nothing..."

"Will you feel resentful towards the people here because of this?"

"No...no, it's just that people are too...too enthusiastic..."

Until the reporter's question, her good upbringing and experience allowed her to barely maintain her image. My penis
moved in and out of her body, the rhythm depending on her expression. I maintained a frequency she could tolerate.
When I entered, her body was very tense; when I came out, it relaxed.

Her pauses in speech were due to my sudden insertion; I boldly lifted her skirt high enough. The coat draped over
her body provided good protection for us. So they wouldn't discover our intercourse. From the outside, they'd only see me
casually supporting her from behind.

Unbeknownst to me, she bent over, unable to bear the penetration, giving me an angle to see my own lower
body . Between her white buttocks, that powerful, strong thing was inserted into her core. My fully erect
penis was half-inserted into her vagina. The exposed, bright red penis was still glistening with fluid. It went in completely, and when
it came out, it caused her thick, dark labia to turn outwards. It was a completely naked, flesh-on-flesh scene.

The stimulation before my eyes gave me a sudden urge to ejaculate, and I tried my best to insert my penis all the way in. My lower abdomen was pressed tightly against her
buttocks . My hands were wrapped around her waist. At this moment, we were no longer separate individuals, but a tightly
and eternally connected whole.

The semen that had been accumulating for so long gushed out all at once. Suddenly, a wave of shame washed over me. My
beloved idol had actually violated the goddess of my heart.

I quietly ran away. That feeling of guilt lingered with me.

A few days later, I saw an interview with her on television, and she had regained her composure.

When the reporter asked her, "What would you like to say to the fan who protected you in the chaos and quietly left
?"

her expression changed several times before she finally said, "..."

URL 1:https://www.sex3p.com/htmlBlog/32799.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=32799&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Celebrity Diary

Next Page : Sex parties

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Celebrity reception scene

comment Open a new window to view comments