The sound was small and sharp and entirely involuntary.
The three elders at the table went still.
Their eyes moved to Meihua with the sudden, focused attention of men who had been hearing about this woman for five years and were now seeing her in the lantern light, flushed from running, her enormous tits heaving, her thick body trembling.
Old Man Wei felt his cock twitch.
He was sixty-three years old. His cultivation had stalled at Qi Condensation thirty years ago. His body was wrinkled, his balls hanging loose in his cotton underclothes, his cock a modest five inches that had not seen a woman in two years.
It twitched now.
Beside him, Old Man Chen felt the same. Sixty-one. Seven inches when he was young, now a reliable six. He had been married twice, widowed twice, and had not thought himself capable of the sudden, hard urgency that was pressing against his robe.
Old Man Liu, the eldest at sixty-seven, simply stared.
