"Babe..."On the day I accompanied Tang Xiaohui through childbirth, Aunt Tang kept calling her "Treasure" left and right. Every time she did, Stan Wallace would glance at me with a faint look.Since then, Stan Wallace often calls me "Babe" in a low, husky voice when we are intimate, his lips brushing against my ear.Each time I hear it, my heart tugs and twists, feeling both tingling and sour.I have to admit, I envy Tang Xiaohui for being cherished by her mother, but that envy is fleeting because Stan Wallace always senses what I need, and he gives me everything I lack."Babe..." Stan Wallace mumbled against my lips, the lingering end of his words blending seamlessly with the wet sounds that followed.Stan Wallace's kisses were skillful, sometimes urgent, sometimes slow, either playfully teasing or deeply intimate, drawing me into his rhythm irresistibly.I gasped, clutching his arm, which was veined and tense, as a sudden, unusual sensation at the base of my spine made me trem
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