The Slag Gong wants to Kill me

There was only a bedside lamp left in the room, and the dim light seemed to make their sexuality / libido more vigorous.

They did it really fiercely, and the sound of "papapa" meat / body hitting kept echoing in my ears. I heard my husband gasping more and more quickly. He seemed to be choking his throat little by little and slowly losing his ability to breathe air.

I heard his last gasp. Then came a long moan of the bamboo horse. I saw the bamboo horse in the aftermath of the high / tide beat my husband's leg and seemed to want him to come again.

But my husband did not respond. He was probably dead.

So I took out my plastic gloves and put them on, then gently closed the door of the room and locked it with my key. I heard a bamboo horse picking / teasing my husband in the room, and he seemed to be teasing my husband and said that he wouldn't do it once.

Then the sound of heavy objects falling from the room sounded loud, and it seemed that the cicada outside the door suddenly stopped crying. Zhuma murmured incredulously, "How is that possible ..." His voice trembled, as if suppressing fear, "How ... how is that possible ..."

Zhu Ma should try to test if my husband is still breathing, I think.

I heard his next hysterical scream, which sounded like a roar of help from the mouth before the robin was choked.

I slowly walked to the window of the room to see them.

The room they chose was located in the interior of the house, and the windows also faced the interior. The only window that was open was very small. This was because my husband was superstitious and thought that the large windows would be scattered.

It's probably impossible to climb out of a bamboo horse.

I walked over, turned on my flashlight to shine inside, and knocked on the window glass by the way. The sound of "噔 噔" knocking on the window quickly caught Zhuma's attention. At first he seemed to be scared by the dazzling flashlight. Immediately after the reaction, he stumbled to the window like a mad streak. The sharp nails dug out the glass and made a sharp sound of "Zila".

His voice sounded a bit distorted across the glass, and Zhuma screamed, "It's you ...! It's you who hurt us!"

There I looked at him quietly.

Tears shed on Zhu Ma's beautiful face, and his face looked pale at this moment, like a ghost. "Not me ..." he murmured. "It's you ... you killed him!"

"Oh." I laughed. "Yes."