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The general manager looked up at her and met her eyes. Mrs. Wu's face was red, but she didn't look angry. The general manager's courage grew. He didn't retract his little finger, but simply moved his ring finger over. Hmm, the plump feeling was more obvious. Mrs. Wu's eyes changed between confusion and surprise, but she never refused. Her eyelids drooped and narrowed, her chest was depressed, and her whole body was hot. "Is it better?" The general manager tried to find a topic. "Hmm," Mrs. Wu also pretended not to know about the finger and said, "It doesn't hurt much, but it's itchy." "Oh?" The general manager then used force on his hand to rub around the lump, and naturally his ring finger and middle finger also moved in the valley. He slowly realized that his fingers could already distinguish the gaps in the meat pie, and the cloth wrapped around the meat pie was getting wet little by little. "Is it still itchy?" He asked, without stopping his hands. "Hmm... it's itchy!" Mrs. Wu said. "What should I do..." He pondered for a moment, and suddenly an idea came to him: "Oh, we learned when we were scouts that we can use ammonia to neutralize formic acid when bitten by ants." "Sigh," Mrs. Wu laughed, "You were a scout?" A man in his fifties and a scout really couldn't be associated together. The general manager was embarrassed and couldn't say anything. After a long time, he continued, "If you don't have ammonia, you can pee. By the way, do you have urine?" Mrs. Wu of course didn't have urine. Her cheeks flushed and she shook her head. "It will hurt more and more." The old scout said, and her fingers continued to press and drill on the fluffy meat pie. "What should I do then?" Mrs. Wu half closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. The general manager said helplessly: "There is no other way, emergency response, just use my urine." He knelt down, straightened his waist, pulled up the trouser legs of his shorts, and pulled out a black sausage. The surface was rough and uneven, and the top of the sausage was shiny and greasy. It was jumping and nodding, and there was a crystal tear at the end of the single eye. As soon as he got it in his hand, he leaned the front half on Mrs. Wu's leg. Mrs. Wu immediately felt a hot impulse spreading rapidly from the contact point on the inside of her thigh. She felt dizzy, and her hands on his scapula slipped, and she hugged him softly, her face resting on his shoulder, sighing. The general manager was not a fool. He held his penis in his right hand and held her waist with his left hand. He pulled it back with force, and the two of them pressed their chests tightly. Mrs. Wu let out a "hmm". Although she couldn't see, she knew that the general manager's glans was rubbing against the inside of her thigh. His strange hands were always so annoying. Even though he was busy, he could still use his pinky and ring fingers to continue to provoke the increasingly moist peach garden. "You... um..." Mrs. Wu put her chin against his face and said, "Do you have any urine?" "Hmm..." The general manager said, "I can't pee either, but I just had a little bit of water on it, which is somewhat useful!" "But did you happen to apply it?" Mrs. Wu asked. "Otherwise, you can help me hold it." The general manager said. "Is that so..." Mrs. Wu hesitated for a moment: "Is that okay?" "It doesn't matter!" The two adults were playing childish and hypocritical house games. The general manager took Mrs. Wu's hand and tried to grab his penis. Mrs. Wu timidly held it. Oh, it was really long and hard, and hot. She stroked it twice, then suddenly let go and said, "I don't want it anymore..."
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