On verge of losing it

Yin Fu hummed against Mo Qiang's core as he brought his hands in front of him. With his fingers he skimmed the length of Mo Qiang's core, his fingers circled and brushed against Mo Qiang's hardened bud that quivered slightly. 

"Ngh," Mo Qiang let out a groan as she stared down at Yin Fu, her expression was slightly stifled. As she tightened the hold that she had on his hair and said, "Is this what you have to show with all that practice of yours? I thought that you had learned to do better." 

"I...I am sorry," Yin Fu muttered while his face was buried in Mo Qiang's core. Inwardly he was scolding himself for being foolish enough to order a doll. He should have asked Mo Qiang to lend her core such that he could practice, after all, how could a doll even compare to his wife? This softness, this wetness and the slight shivers—— his wife was so much better than the lifeless doll.