Major General’s Smart and Gorgeous Wife

Seeing the reddish and frantic appearance of the trees, Yunting's throat slightly moved, tightening her arms tighter, like rubbing people into her body.

The tent is a military tent in the wild, something that Comrade Cloud Ting often keeps.

The space in the tent was small, although not dull, but the two of them came in close contact and drained the air in the tent, with a happy feeling of asphyxiation.

Yunting is the most painful one. He holds his little daughter-in-law in his arms. He wants to eat but can't eat, he can only hug. Even with his own mouth, he was a little too afraid that his body, which had just recovered from the forest trees, could not eat.

But hands.

His eyes fell on the tree's hand, and her hand was somewhere in his pants, attracting his senses.

Wood felt the beating in her hand, reddened her face and dared not speak. She rubbed her head against Yunting's shoulder again. She knew Yunting was looking at her. This was going to find a place to hide.

In the air, quiet but sweet.

Wooden lips were a little dry and subconsciously licked lips with their tongues.

Her little movements, which fell into his eyes, were all small family names, constantly challenging his limits.

This seduction is much more exciting than what he received in the Special Forces for the Sakurajima National Physiological Action Film, and more powerful than the seduction training of the so-called hot beauties.

The thunderous god named “I don't like women” has encountered this kind of time.

If the training wasn't for those gorgeous bitches and they changed to trees, he wouldn't be able to sustain it.

At this point, the smell of the clouds is a little messy. Had it not taken into account the body of the person in his arms, he would have been rude, punished her severely and made her understand the reason for being responsible for the ignition.

But now, for the third time, Yunting's eyes fell on the tiny white hand of the tree.

He stretched out his hand and covered her little hand with his big hand.

The trees felt the temperature of the clouds and, without struggling, let him hold it and feel the calluses in his hand.

His palms were a little cocoon, too rough compared to the delicate skin of the trees. But this rough one has a reassuring sense of thickness.

The tree was shaking his hand and his floating mood slowed down, leaning on his shoulder, closing his eyes and preparing to sleep.

Bewildered, the trees felt that his hand seemed to lead her somewhere else, where there was a slightly hot but delicate touch. I feel, I don't hate it, warm my hands on this cool autumn night.

The trees were so gripping, their hearts fell asleep without lungs.

Yunting is now really trying to cry without tears. This little thing is so bad! Did God send her to torture him?

Yunting shook his head helplessly.

Trying to move her hand, afraid to wake her up again.

I couldn't help but feel soft and palpitated to leave her palm.

This night, Yunting barely slept much, so she hugged this little girl.

And tortured by her!

Instead, it's a tree, and you can't sleep without your heart.

The trees have a good habit of getting up early and sleeping well at night! It's not her fault.

Until the next morning, the trees opened their eyes and felt a little sour in their hands, then looked at the kidnapped right hand.

Her hand actually stuck in his pants pocket.

No, it doesn't look like a trouser pocket. There it is. That place! And she had something hard in her hand.

It's huge.

The trees swept a glance and hurried back and stopped.