Xia Ling squatted on the floor, her black pencil skirt clinging to her elegant, shapely hips. Her slender fingers extended, and she gently grasped the fork before slowly rising to her feet.
Standing at the dining table, the 170cm tall mother, in her 10cm stilettos, resembled an elegant goddess from a fantasy. A slight anger still lingered on her face. Her beautiful eyes, adorned with delicate butterfly-wing eyeliner, stared at Wang Xiong, her long eyelashes trembling slightly. She extended her fair hand: "Here."
Beneath her pencil skirt, her long, shapely legs, encased in grey stockings, were slightly pressed together. Her high heels rubbed uneasily on the carpet. Beneath the wine-stained collar of her shirt, her high, firm breasts heaved violently, clearly suppressing her inner humiliation.
Wang Xiong, meanwhile, sat casually in his chair, his disheveled appearance utterly out of place in the elegant surroundings.
Watching the elegant woman before him forced to bow for him, a smug glint flashed in his eyes. As he reached for the fork Xia Ling offered, his fingertips deliberately brushed lightly against her hand.
"Aunt Xia, you were too fast, I didn't even see it clearly," Wang Xiong suddenly said. "How about... you pick it up again?"
The next second after taking the fork, Wang Xiong casually flicked his wrist, and the fork flew out, landing once more on the deep red carpet.
"Okay, I'll pick it up..."
Xia Ling bit her red lips, a hint of humiliation flashing in her eyes, yet she had no choice but to bend her tall, voluptuous body once more.
"Slow down, yes, just like that..." Wang Xiong's voice carried a distinctly flirtatious tone, as if he were enjoying some kind of entertainment. "Aunt Xia, the way you bend over is truly captivating, your buttocks sticking up so high. It's a pity Xiao Wei isn't here; if he saw Xia Ling like this in front of me..."
As she spoke, Xia Ling's body trembled slightly again, but she still forced herself to continue bending over. Beneath her pencil skirt, her beautiful legs, encased in creamy gray stockings, tensed even more.
"Here."
Picking up the fork again, Xia Ling didn't hand it to Wang Xiong, but coldly placed it in front of him. Under the crystal chandelier, a hint of impatience appeared on her exquisitely sculpted face.
Meanwhile, Wang Xiong blinked his lustful eyes, his gaze roaming unabashedly over Xia Ling's beautiful legs in gray stockings.
His voice carried a hint of flirtation: "These stockings are absolutely stunning. I remember you always wore black stockings under your trousers before, but these grey ones tonight are really nice, tsk tsk... This color makes you look even more elegant, and it complements your flawless skin."
Mom bit her cherry lips, ignoring him.
Her jade-like legs, encased in the grey stockings, were about to turn around, her high heels gracefully tracing an arc on the carpet, but then—
"Thump—"
The sound of a fork hitting the ground was particularly jarring in the elegant French restaurant.
Turning around, she saw Wang Xiong with a nauseating smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with a sickly light. Pointing to the ground, he said, "Oops, it fell again. Aunt Xia will have to pick it up for me again."
"Wang Xiong, you!"
Xia Ling could no longer contain herself. Her exquisitely made-up face flushed with undisguised anger. A cold glint flashed in her phoenix eyes, accentuated by butterfly-wing eyeliner. Her silk blouse rose and fell slightly with her rapid breathing.
"Wang Xiong, I don't have time for your low-level tricks. Since you have no intention of saying anything, then this is the end of it."
Xia Ling's long, beautiful legs moved, her 10cm patent leather heels leaving shallow marks on the carpet. Each step exuded elegance and anger, the curves of her buttocks beneath her black pencil skirt swaying gently with each step.
"Wait!" Wang Xiong suddenly called out, stopping Xia Ling. "Hey, Aunt Xia, don't be angry! I promise this is the last time, please pick it up for me!"
Xia Ling stopped, her slender heels sinking deeply into the soft carpet.
Seeing Xia Ling stop, Wang Xiong knew he had her under his thumb again. He said in a threatening tone, "Zhang Ming is dead, but he still has a family. Parents burying their children—how heartbroken do you think his parents must be? No compensation at all? Isn't that too cruel for two elderly people over fifty?"
Xia Ling's delicate body trembled, her beautiful legs in high heels halting on the carpet. The surrounding diners couldn't help but turn their heads at this scene. In this charming restaurant, a well-dressed, elegant woman was now forced to bow before a vulgar thug—the sight was particularly jarring.
"This is the last time," Xia Ling finally turned around, her beautiful, cold eyes fixed on Wang Xiong.
"Okay, pick it up." Wang Xiong smiled smugly, gesturing for the fork on the ground.
Xia Ling took a deep breath, her long, slender legs, encased in gray stockings, bent again, her arm outstretched, her delicate fingers grasping the fork that had fallen to the ground for the third time.
In this elegant setting, the sexy, tall mother was forced to repeatedly lower her graceful figure, bowing again and again for this despicable boy. Under the crystal chandelier, a hint of fatigue appeared on her exquisite makeup, but the stubbornness in her phoenix eyes remained undiminished.
Xia Ling squatted down, about to bend down and pick up the silver fork, when suddenly, a "click" sounded from the side—the sound of a mobile phone camera!
"Don't move! Aunt Xia, just stay in that position." Wang Xiong was sitting in the dining chair, holding his phone, the camera focused on Xia Ling's long, slender legs encased in gray stockings. "Those high heels with your gray stockings are absolutely stunning!"
Xia Ling's hand hovered in mid-air, just a step away from the fork on the carpet.
She bit her red lips, her legs in 10cm stilettos and gray stockings trembling slightly. Beneath her pencil skirt, her elegant, pert buttocks were taut from her squatting position, outlining a perfect curve.
"Tsk tsk...this angle is amazing."
Wang Xiong moved his arm, taking a picture of Xia Ling's gray-stockinged legs, then focused the camera on her taut, pert buttocks.
"Aunt Xia is truly stunning! Look at those beautiful legs, that alluring butt, and those high heels..."
Xia Ling paused, her gray-stockinged legs tensing even more. The new, creamy stockings clung to her skin, gleaming delicately under the crystal chandelier of the restaurant. Her slender ankles were accentuated by the patent leather high heels, making her appear even more elegant, yet also revealing a hint of helplessness.
"Look at this, what a great photo!" Wang Xiong crouched down slightly in front of Xia Ling, holding his phone screen up to her face. "The view from this angle, tsk tsk..."
The customers at the surrounding tables, witnessing this scene, many showed expressions of surprise.
A short, thug was using the most lewd gaze and the most disgusting language to grovel at the elegant woman in gray stockings before him.
"How long are you going to...?"
A barely perceptible sob tugged at Xia Ling's clear, cold voice. She reached out and grasped the silver fork on the floor, about to rise, when she felt a dirty hand press against her back.
"Don't rush to stand up," Wang Xiong said, pressing one hand against her back while the other held his phone, constantly adjusting the angle. "Let me take a few close-ups. After that, we'll talk business, hehe."
Xia Ling never imagined Wang Xiong could be so perverted. A simple fork and a phone could manipulate her to this extent.
"Come on, Aunt Xia, spread your legs a little wider." Wang Xiong held the camera forward, aiming at her skirt between her knees. "Let me take a few more pictures. This angle is amazing. Hey, can we see her underwear? What color is it?"
Xia Ling, squatting on the floor, gripped the fork tightly, her knuckles white.
Although her delicate face maintained its composure and elegance, tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Her body, trembling slightly from being squatted for so long beneath her pencil skirt, squirmed nervously, her beautiful legs encased in grey stockings rubbing together nervously.