Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 292

Chapter 292: Chapter 292

Yang Yuan’s tolerance for liquor really opened Yang Fan’s eyes.

It was terrifying.

If Little Mother and the others weren’t here, Yang Fan would have been very eager to see her like this.

But since Little Mother and the others were around, he felt somewhat overwhelmed.

"Little Mother, if you just went along with her, wouldn’t that do the trick? How am I supposed to calm her down?" Yang Fan said.

After all, he knew very well that Little Mother liked women.

Yang Yuan in this state was like throwing herself into Little Mother’s arms. What was there for her to refuse?

"How do I go along with her? I’m not you, nor do I have that thing. How am I supposed to appease her?" Zhou Wenhui rolled her eyes and said, "I heard her clearly just now. She was calling for you to do it to her. Even though she’s deeply drunk, since she can shout that out, it means she’s thinking it in her heart too. Just do it, it’s fine."

"Little Mother, being drunk and being sober are two different things," Yang Fan said.

He was actually quite conflicted at the moment.

Yang Yuan like this really made it hard for him to hold back.

But to actually do something, he really didn’t dare!

If it were just the two of them, he would have reached out long ago.

"Maybe we should try to wake her up?" Yang Fan seriously considered the suggestion and proposed.

Zhou Wenhui spoke speechlessly, "With her like this, how will she face herself if we wake her? Forget it, I’ll take the hit."

With that, she picked up Yang Yuan and went back to the room.

Yang Fan couldn’t help but smile. Little Mother was still pretending in front of him — what suffering? She must really like it.

A woman who likes other women probably wouldn’t refuse such an opportunity handed to her on a silver platter.

Yang Fan adjusted his sleeping position, pressing down the tent that had pitched up, and took out his phone to glance at it.

Just past one o’clock in the morning.

The middle of the night indeed, yet he didn’t feel the least bit sleepy now.

He lit a cigarette, unlocked his phone, and listlessly browsed the local news, trying to muster some sleepiness.

Suddenly, hushed moans began to drift from the bedroom beside him.

Yang Fan’s ears perked up sharply.

Little Mother had started...

Listening to the intermittent moans, his thoughts immediately grew lively.

Putting down his phone, he tiptoed off the bed and sneaked up to the window of the room.

The light that appeared in front of him made him pause for a moment.

The light in the room was still on, and the curtain had only been half drawn, leaving a large gap open.

It was as if Little Mother had just tugged it without caring if it was fully closed.

It was practically a peephole seemingly left intentionally for him.

He edged closer, concealing himself behind the partially drawn curtain.

The first thing that caught his eye was a round pair of bare buttocks, resembling an enormous peach.

It was raised high as if deliberately displayed before him.

The owner of these buttocks wasn’t Yang Yuan, but Little Mother.

She was burying her head in her sister-in-law’s lower abdomen, her mouth and tongue alternately soothing the tender flesh of the sister-in-law’s golden valley.

Meanwhile, Yang Yuan, who was so drunk she couldn’t tell north from south, was still straddling the sister-in-law.

Her petite yet pert buttocks moved rhythmically, imitating the motion of being penetrated.

The slight slurping sounds mixed with the faint moans of the sister-in-law and Yang Yuan, making Yang Fan’s blood boil endlessly.

This erotic scene nearly overwhelmed Yang Fan’s reason in an instant.

He thought about the Fourth Aunt asleep outside, feeling an urge stirring within him.

Tonight, he had been tormented quite harshly, and now watching this scene, his body suddenly couldn’t hold back.

Amidst the slurping sounds, Zhou Wenhui extended her right hand to the back and fiddled with her somewhat moist golden valley.

Although she was doing it for self-comfort, in Yang Fan’s eyes, it looked as though Little Mother was intentionally putting on a show for him.

With a flick of her fingers to the left and right, Yang Fan could see everything inside Little Mother’s golden valley clearly.

The color was like that of untouched skin, very tender and pink.

But this tenderness and pinkness were different from Yang Yuan’s.

Yang Yuan’s tenderness and pinkness were both heavy, as if both the tenderness and the pinkness had been taken to the extreme.

Little Mother’s was simply pink, with the sort of sophistication that comes with being a young matron.

But it was still very beautiful to look at.

After teasing for a while, her fingers slowly penetrated deeper, scooping and stirring.

At this moment, Little Mother shifted her focus to Yang Yuan.

She carefully studied Yang Yuan’s pert and delicate buttocks, with kisses and caresses from her tongue and lips that were especially tender.

Yang Fan watched, his mouth dry and his tongue parched, feeling like a fire had ignited within him, burning upwards from his lower belly to his chest, and then his whole body felt hot and restless, a strong urge churning inside him like tumultuous waves.

He was eager to find a place to enter, to play like Little Mother.

The image of Fourth Aunt flashed constantly before his eyes, becoming ever clearer.

This intense compulsion made him slowly shift his steps.

Yang Fan left the room, suppressing his rapid breaths, and tiptoed into the shop.

In the shop, only lit by a single spotlight, Fourth Aunt was sleeping soundly, her gentle breathing audible.

Stopping at the doorway, Yang Fan’s inner struggle resurfaced.

However, the faint moans in his ears made that hesitation quickly vanish.

He walked over to Fourth Aunt’s side, bending down to look at her beautiful face in deep sleep.

Although Yang Yuan was not her biological daughter, their beauty seemed to be inherited.

Even though she was well into her thirties, Fourth Aunt’s face bore few signs of aging, her skin maintained immaculately—fair and glowing, with rosy and enchanting lips, her features exuding a noble and elegant charm.

She and Little Mother, at this age, were just perfect for both young and older admirers.

To a young man of Yang Fan’s age, they were mature and alluring.

And to older men, they were in the prime of their beauty, in the full bloom of youth.

"Fourth Aunt!"

Yang Fan called out softly.

There was no response from Fourth Aunt, her breathing even, sleeping very peacefully.

This emboldened Yang Fan quite a bit.

He sat down next to the couch, slipping his hand under the thin blanket, and into Fourth Aunt’s top.

She was dressed relatively conservatively, almost always wearing trousers and various long-sleeved tops since coming to Yang Fan’s house.

Very gently lifting the cup of her brassiere, Yang Fan’s palm successfully grasped a mound of softness.

Although she was a matron, this part of her felt like that of a young girl’s—soft and buoyant.

The sensation was as though she’d never borne a child.

Yang Fan chuckled silently; Yang Yuan was a child adopted by Fourth Aunt, so maybe she really had never had children.

A woman who has given birth, that little nipple usually becomes somewhat larger.

But hers wasn’t large at all, about the size of a pea.

Yang Fan didn’t dare to make any abrupt movements, gently teasing that little pea while intently watching Fourth Aunt’s reactions.

"Mmm..."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she moaned softly.