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Third World: Possessive Much?

It was now official, the general had officially stepped out of the virgin territory and played a bit much, exhausting Feng Zi. Even though they had played for more than half the night, Qie Ranzhe's sleep was disturbed when he was woken up by his urges. His member was pitching a tent below the quilt as though begging for more of last night's treat.

Qie Ranzhe found it hilarious and turned to face the man with his back facing him. The morning sunshine seeped in through the closed blinds and shone on the man's smooth skin decorated with strawberry-like marks, evidence of last night's escapades. Qie Ranzhe shuffled over with a sheepish smile. He reached out and caressed the hickeys on Feng Zi's back like a narcissistic artist admiring his masterpiece.

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