"No, don’t... don’t do this. Gently, gently... Lin lin is right next door. I’m begging you, gently, gently..." Follow current novels on N0velFire.ɴet It seemed as if Sister Qian was begging him with tears in her eyes. After some pushing and shoving back and forth, Zhang Chen lifted Yu Xueqian’s body in a princess carry, held her tightly in his arms, and dominantly sat down on her warm, clean bed, covered with a beige sheet. In fact, he hadn’t started any actual assault yet; he was merely squeezing her juicy body with his palm, caressing from her arms, thighs, to her waist and back, making her clothes rustle, exploring the curves of her body; he hadn’t even touched her breasts, buttocks, or lower abdomen yet. Yet Sister Qian, in his embrace, appeared so weak, frightened, humiliated, and sorrowful that she seemed on the verge of melting into water, with her words becoming increasingly unclear... Her eyes were brimming with tears; her cheeks were flushed; her mouth was slightly open, drawing shallow breaths, revealing her white teeth, leaving a bloody mark on her lower lip; her body felt scorching even through her clothes, as if she had a fever; her joints seemed to have turned to liquid; her expression seemed like it was on the verge of collapse; she was helplessly pleading, "Gently, gently...", her chest rising and falling helplessly in waves; Zhang Chen couldn’t even understand whether she was pleading for him to be gentler with his touches, or pleading for her own voice to be quieter, so as not to let her daughter next door detect anything unusual. Just moments ago, with only a few easy pushes and sidesteps in the small living room, Zhang Chen dragged Sister Qian into her bedroom. There’s no need for much explanation; Sister Qian certainly knew what he intended to do, and she certainly resisted, whether physically or verbally... However, Zhang Chen could feel that this reluctance was not resolute, the struggle and bewilderment were very weak, very hesitant, and instead of outright resisting his advances, it was more about fearing that her little daughter in the next room would hear something... This was completely different from seven years ago. Seven years ago, when he was drunk and was rejected by Sister Qian when he confessed his love, perhaps due to wounded pride, or suppressed sexual desire, or maybe a compensation for his adolescent sexual fantasies, Zhang Chen frantically pounced on Sister Qian... That time, she was desperately resisting; she kicked, pushed, hit him, scratching his muscles to bleeding with her nails, even biting him with her teeth... Of course, in front of the powerful, young, and strong Zhang Chen, all those resistances were ultimately futile. In his somewhat blurred memory after drinking, he believed he had fiercely hit Sister Qian, pinning her under him, preventing her from moving, until her strength was gradually exhausted. He believed he had torn her clothes, ravishingly playing with her voluptuous body that was merely clad in underwear, even leaving many bruises on her fair skin before tearing apart her intimate wear. It wasn’t just to restrain Sister Qian’s resistance, but also for a more provocative visual pleasure, he used her bra to bind her hands to the bedpost. Those lace straps, tying the female’s white and fragile wrists, restricted the raped person’s movement, rendering her unable to resist, powerless to escape, helplessly accepting the fate of being violated, driving Zhang Chen even more excited and frenzied. Even when he had already climbed onto Sister Qian, thrusting inside, ejaculating within her, he still felt unsatisfied... He demanded Sister Qian perform oral sex on him; Sister Qian continuously resisted, resolutely refusing to open her beautiful lips, and he even brutally, violently, and frantically threatened her, "If you don’t blow me... I’ll kill your daughter next door..." Even though that "your daughter" was actually Zhang Chen’s own niece, the only bloodline of his recently deceased elder brother, residing in alcohol, lust, and disappointment, Zhang Chen might not have cared. Afterward, Sister Qian drove him out of the Foundation Establishment. However, Sister Qian also said that he was drunk that night, and many things, he didn’t quite remember clearly; the actual scene wasn’t that violent, and he didn’t threaten to kill his niece, and she couldn’t possibly report to the police... Of course, being a ’Flower Media Street Mama’, reporting to the police that she was raped by her brother-in-law wasn’t realistically feasible; Zhang Chen was also happy to forget some details in his drunken memory. But one thing was certain, Zhang Chen was sure that that night, Sister Qian was genuinely resisting, for a woman who had been through Flower Media Street, after her husband died, she wasn’t willing to have such relations with her husband’s younger brother. Women will always say no! It’s just that sometimes, they mean it, and other times they don’t... And today, Sister Qian was also resisting, also pleading, also dodging... but Zhang Chen was equally certain: this was merely symbolic. He had easily dragged Sister Qian from the living room into her bedroom. What changed? Have I become more attractive than seven years ago? Maybe I have changed, but Zhang Chen didn’t think he was all that attractive. Or was it that seven years of being single had suppressed this woman’s sexual needs for so long that she couldn’t resist an at least somewhat familiar man’s advances? Or... could it be another possibility? From the identity of a ’Flower Media Street Mama’, ’Brother Yan’s wife’, transitioning to a seven-year ’small clothing shop owner’ career, has this single mother become helpless and terrified? To Sister Qian, was my ’help’ no longer the natural aid a younger brother-in-law offers to a widowed sister-in-law and niece? After all, in the past seven years, I never fulfilled any relative’s responsibilities or obligations; nor the unrequited love of a once-secret admirer, Sister Qian wasn’t a naive girl fresh out into the world, she should understand the unreliability of ’feelings’; but more of this world’s more realistic, colder ’transaction’.