My Wife is a Beautiful CEO

This is a girl in a tulle nightdress, like a delicate sculpture covering a faint cloud in the haze.One can't help but think of the richness, soft lines and lingering visual senses of ancient Athens goddesses in Western oil paintings, all of which are toxic catalysts that challenge the limits of male hormones.

The chestnut bright hair spreads around the waist, like satin, with big waves, high nose, plump red lips, blue and green charming eyes, like a fairy from a fairy tale, noble , Seductive, full of mysterious taste.

At this moment, this breath-filled goblin was leaning lazily against the door, with a playful and girlish shyness.

"Dear Chenchen, am I pretty?" Catherine blinked at the sparkling twinkling eyes and looked at Yang Chen with anticipation.

"Hiss" raised his head, Yang Chen gasped, with a sad expression on his face, "I knew that no one except you would be so nonsense."

Catherine pouted, stepped forward, grabbed Yang Chen's arm, and inserted Yang Chen's arm with the two groups of fat breasts in front of her chest.

"People haven't been intimate with you for more than two years, and you are too cruel. Even if you come to Europe this time, if I don't take the initiative to come to you, you will certainly not take the initiative to come to Wales to find me.", Catherine With a grudge, he pulled Yang Chen into the room and closed the door.

The lights in the room looked dim, and some time when some scented candles were placed on me very carefully, the soothing Liszt piano music was like the singing of a nightingale, and everything made the night look hazy and ambiguous.

The coquettish posture picked by someone close to him did not make Yang Chenhou eager to nibble the delicious food delivered to the door, but walked to the side of the big bed in the room, signaling Catherine first sit down.

Catherine refused to let go of Yang Chen's hand a little bit, and finally Yang Chen had no choice but to let the woman stick, before saying: "You should also know that I have changed a lot since two years ago."

"Is that the matter of marriage? I know. I also know that your wife is here this time, right here in this hotel." Catherine leaned her head on Yang Chen's shoulder, smiling and groaning. , "But I heard Jane also say that you still have many women, don't you?"

"She even told you this, I really can't take your mother and daughter. It's not just me who got married. In the past two years, especially in the past year, many things happened and my views on women have changed a lot. I have to admit, In the days when I first met you, most women used to vent their tools for fun, and they did n’t have much value. But now you are good, Jane, and Ed and So Lun and Macedonia are the same. I treat you as my friend, not the 'toy' that used to make me happy "

Yang Chen laughed self-deprecatingly, and said, "So, Catherine, don't do this anymore. You don't need to try to please me so much. We've known each other for almost nine years. Even if you don't please me like before, you or me Friends can still get my friendship. "

Catherine's fascinating eyes showed a hint of strange luster, and a playful smile appeared on the corner of her mouth. "You really changed a lot, Chenchen."

"Huh?" Yang Chen felt the change in Catherine's expression and smiled: "This kind of you looks like a woman in her thirties, not a dumb little girl."

"You really hate it, you can't do it at a younger age, and you'll be old and sarcasm. Am I really old?" Catherine let go of Yang Chen's hands, stood up next to her, and turned in front of Yang Chen's eyes. Circle, and then leaned down, staring straight at Yang Chen's eyes, exhaling with a deep voice: "Chen Chen, even a friend, didn't say he couldn't go to bed, did he?"

Yang Chen didn't speak, and turned to Catherine's chest.

Because of the looseness of the nightdress, Catherine stood in a leaning posture and sagged down her chest. Within the loose neckline, a pair of round whites seemed a little crowded, and the bottomless gully was like The abyss of tempting crime.

"Does it look good," Catherine asked with a smile.

Yang Chen nodded and said straightforwardly: "It's beautiful."

"Giggle," Catherine smiled her mouth shut. This gesture made the soft flesh of the chest sway, as if it would fall at any time, and also exuded charming frankincense from the neckline.

"Chenchen, did you know that since my husband's death, no man has touched them other than you in these years?" Catherine said, suddenly sitting on Yang Chen's legs, the chest directly against Yang Chen's face buried Yang Chen's head in his chest.

"I only want to go to bed with you, I only want to please you, to show off to you, not because I need you to do much for me, because, this is what I like, what I want."

Yang Chen's entire face was buried in the elastic and soft flesh, warm and somewhat breathless.

After a while, Yang Chen stroked Catherine's waist with both hands and squeezed the soft flesh between his waists.

Catherine is full of extremely sensual parts, seeming to have some extra soft meat, but it just adds to the age of women of this age.

"Bang", Catherine snorted softly, she could feel the temperature of Yang Chen's hands, a bit burning.

Yang Chen took his face away from the waves, his bloodshot eyes, and looked at the noble queen in front of her, her voice was slightly hoarse and said: "I was controllable, but you just want to play with fire, now look Come, you can't sleep tonight. "

Catherine's eyes turned into the spring water, and the entire attractive body was like a weak willow that supported the wind, wrapped around Yang Chen's body, burning red lips, and gently pressed Yang Chen's ear, Sticking out the tip of the tongue and licking, breathing a bit harshly: "Remember the time when we first met, I just want you, treat me like I was back then"

The soft and charming tone makes Yang Chen's brain like a torrential outbreak, and countless thoughts pour out.

Italy, the city of Salerno.

This ancient city lies quietly on the coastline of southern Italy. Except for facing the Mediterranean resort, this city is just as bleak and old as other southern Italian cities.Work, study, and life, day after day, except for the city team's game, some people's enthusiasm is lifted. At other times, it seems that people don't see the future people want.

Although it is winter, the warmth of the Mediterranean climate means that the residents here still only have to wear relatively thin clothes and walk through the streets.

This is the weekend. The casual Italians drove the car numbly, looking at the rows of crossroads that were too old, and some faded traffic lights. In daylight, occasionally they could not see what color it was.

Perhaps only the Gothic churches left over from the Middle Ages, soaring spires, fancy glass windows, and the design of various flying arches can feel the vitality of the city that has never been cut off.

The Church of Naches Solo near the port is just one of the unknown Catholic churches among the countless churches in the city.

Few people remember when this church was built. The granite stone monument that records the history of the church has been buried in the bushes outside the church for many years, and no one remembers to dig it out.

After all, compared with too many classic national treasure churches in Italy, this church is really not very eye-catching.

The most common square design, with a spire rising high in the middle, black and gray appearance, and some colors after the baptism of the wind and frost, it is unclear what the original tone is.

At noon, the door of the church was pushed open, and a group of Italian residents with calm faces came out of the church. There were old people, women, young people, and children.

This is Sunday, the mass of the believers is over.

After the people who attended the mass had gone, the church priest Marino stood at the door with a kind smile and watched everyone walk away, before drawing a cross on his chest and saying something.

Marino was an orphan. The old priest who adopted him died at the age of twenty. Since then, Marino has inherited the work of this small church. In a blink of an eye, he is almost fifty now. Years, like a shuttle, his most precious years are dedicated to God who has never appeared.

Turning around, Marino closed the door of the church, and he was the only one in the empty church hall.

Sunlight shines through the sparse gaps into the church through the flowered glass windows, and the melted wall makes the mottled walls look extremely potholey.

The air is permeated with decay, because of the perennial disrepair, the ruin of the church has eroded from the original inner, simple to the external structure. Many times, Marino thinks, will the ceiling of this church sleep on one day At that time, it just fell down.

Marino's vicissitudes of his face, which seemed to be more than fifty years old, showed a bit of pain, and looked up at the cross of Jesus in front of the church. His eyes exuded a bit of mania and restlessness.

Standing silently for a long time, Marino walked back to the podium in front of the synagogue, where a long square table was placed. On the table was a small basket of white bread and half a bottle of wine.

These are all left after the masses did not finish eating and drinking, but Marino never wasted, because poverty makes him ineligible to waste.

Picking up the basket and wine bottle, Marino walked to the back of the lobby, where he lived and lived. From his memory, at first, an old priest accompanied him for more than ten years. Later, he lived alone. More than twenty years until today.

Around two bends, Marino did not walk into his room, but walked to the only room that had been empty.

Pushing the door open, the room, except for a single bed with white bedding, has only a table and a wooden chair that does not seem to be firm.

At this moment, on the wooden chair, a woman wearing obviously unfit, too generous clothing, was holding a girl about ten years old, quietly reading a book on the table, some tattered The Old Testament.

This is a mother and daughter that can be distinguished at a glance, because both women and girls have beautiful and thrilling long amber hair, and white to porcelain-like skin. Even if they look sideways, their face is like a fairy, An angel.

It's really a masterpiece of God. Marino always thought this way. From half a month ago, the mother and daughter had fallen outside the church and thought so when they were taken in by themselves.

Hearing the door opening, the girl turned her head. Although the little girl ’s face looked like a Barbie doll, she did n’t have a smile, especially the gemstone-blue eyes, which always showed people The wise vision that created the illusion was like everything she would see through.

"Good noon, priest," the little girl greeted crisply.

At this time, the woman turned her face. Although she did n’t dress much and her hair was a bit messy, she could n’t hide the woman ’s grace and noble temperament at all, but the woman ’s expression looked a little rough, showing a cheerful smile. Father Good afternoon, I'm reading the Bible with my baby. I don't understand many places. Can you tell us about it? "