The springy stem wrapped around Shen Jiyu's length causing his dick to pulse insistently. It constricted tighter, moving like a snake around his balls and over his long cock.'
Shen Jiyu bit his lips, unable to concentrate on what was happening. He needed to bring himself in order.
In front of him, the huge black mist had turned into the figure of a young woman in her early twenties, she had long black hair and wore an ancient costume, she crawled on the ceiling, their head was turned back to face them and her eyes rolled back, leaving only the whites of the eyes glued on them.
"It is a fierce ghost! It is a fierce ghost!" Mao Ji shouted as he threw one talisman after the other.
Yan Xiang looked up from where he was having his Gege lean on him weakly. Who is this thrush that keeps on insulting him, how is this a fierce ghost? If this is a fierce ghost, then what does that make him, King Yama, Meng Po?