Yes, Madam Prime Minister

Page 497

Ronan shook his head and grasped Madam Zhao's hand. "Xiao Ying, what are you apologizing for? No matter what, I am your man. Everything is what I should do. Besides, there are many things I should have done but haven't done."

"For example?" Madam Zhao asked.

“Uh…” Ronan was stunned and didn’t know what to say for a moment.

Madam Zhao couldn't help but smile again, stopped and looked up at Ronan, "Tonight, we won't sleep."

“No problem at all,” Ronan readily agreed.

For the past few months, Madam Zhao hadn't done anything. She wasn't too sad, but she seemed lost and couldn't muster any energy for anything. The fact that she wanted to do it now meant that she had truly emerged from the blow of losing and regaining her son, only to lose him again.

Madam Zhao poked Ronan's waist with her finger. "I think you haven't fucked me in a while, and you're missing me."

Ronan leaned in, put his arm around her waist, and whispered in Mrs. Zhao's ear, "Isn't this a good thing? It means I love you deeply."

“Ronan.” Madam Zhao’s tone suddenly became serious.

"Hmm?" Ronan also became serious.

"What would you do if that mysterious person really was one of the children?" Mrs. Zhao asked.

Ronan sighed. "He caused my brother's death, that's a fact. And the target should have been me. I had no choice but to send him away from this world forever." His meaning was very clear: one word, kill.

"Sigh." Madam Zhao sighed deeply. She felt only helplessness, not a trace of joy, in response to Ronan's answer.

Back in Seris, the children were raised by everyone together, but she, who spent most of her time in the inner quarters, undoubtedly devoted the most time and effort to them. She treated each child like her own, and she still remembers each child's childhood preferences.

People always grow up and change.

"Let's not talk about this anymore. Let's go home, work until dawn, and then sleep until noon. Xiao Ying, we have a long life ahead of us." As he spoke, Ronan pinched Mrs. Zhao's buttocks. "Tonight, I'm going to fuck you until you pass out."

"Hmph, you've been doing this for several days in a row, is that even okay?" Madam Zhao expressed her doubt.

"You're finished, I told you so." Ronan was full of energy, picked up Mrs. Zhao and ran home.

In the blink of an eye, they arrived home. Ronan threw Mrs. Zhao onto the bed and pounced on her like a wild beast.

Chapter 1155 Pale Flesh-Colored Stockings, Active Demand, Supreme

After a passionate kiss, Ronan kissed Mrs. Zhao's forehead, cheeks, neck, and collarbone all over.

As Ronan was about to kiss her lips, Madam Zhao, burning with desire, dodged away, raising her left arm to block him, and raising her left leg, which was covered in thin, pale stockings, to rub her hands together in a struggle, while her right hand kept pulling on Ronan's belt.

She had wanted to start for a long time, but Ronan kept pressing her down and kissing her passionately, and she couldn't even unzip Ronan's pants.

Ronan looked up. "So eager, Xiaoying?" He called her Xiaoying because she was five years younger than Zhao Yingqi in another parallel universe, but she was older in every way.

Madam Zhao was breathing rapidly and nodded repeatedly.

A smile flashed across Ronan's face. He then stood up, and Madam Zhao pounced on him, unbuckling his belt, pulling down his pants and underwear. She eagerly grabbed his semi-erect penis, pressed it against her lower abdomen, and then stuck out her tongue, licking from the base of the shaft upwards all the way to the top. She withdrew her tongue, inhaled the breath of Ronan's lower body, and revealed a look of intoxication.

After taking a deep breath, Madam Zhao grasped the penis with one hand and began to suck and lick it. As the penis gradually hardened and grew larger, she began to hold it with both hands and continuously used her tongue to stroke and scrape the glans. She would occasionally stick out her tongue to nip the urethral opening and perform a series of skillful oral sex acts, quickly making Ronan's penis hard and hot.

Madam Zhao spat out the penis, quickly took off her dress, revealing that the ultra-thin, pale pantyhose underneath were open-crotch. She leaned back, tore off her panties with one hand, pulled them out, and threw them aside, spreading her legs into an M shape to reveal her hairless, pink vulva.

Ronan crawled over and grabbed her stockinged feet, ready to play with and kiss them, but she quickly pulled them back. Ronan bent down to lick her lips, but she pulled her legs together to trap his head and pressed his head down with her hands.

Madam Zhao's lust was rising. "Don't do any of this, just come in." All she wanted now was for that thick, long, hard penis to be inserted into her immediately, to fill the extreme emptiness that suddenly welled up in her after she had emerged from her low point.

“You’re so sexy today,” Ronan said.

Although this wasn't the first time this couple, who have been married for decades, had made such a request, it was still a very rare occurrence.

Ronan leaned over, spread his hands, and supported the back of Madam Zhao's stockinged legs with his knees, squeezing in with practiced ease.

As soon as he entered, Madam Zhao closed her eyes, raised her head, and made a heavy nasal sound. When he was fully inside her, she raised her hands and spread her fingers. Ronan understood and reached out to interlock his fingers with hers. Then he began to thrust.

After several dozen repetitions, Madam Zhao unusually took the initiative to change positions. She brought her legs together and raised them towards the sky, holding her thighs with both hands. Her silk-stockinged legs appeared as one, and her thighs were squeezed together. The originally flat vulva was squeezed inward and appeared a bit thicker. Her small, plump vulva looked round in this position.

Ronan admired her for a moment, then immediately cooperated by grabbing her stockinged legs and ankles with one hand. Madam Zhao lowered her hands and wiped the sheets. Ronan, in a kneeling position, began to thrust forward, occasionally licking the stockinged feet that were right next to his mouth.

"Oh, ah, uh, ah," Madam Zhao moaned continuously, enjoying the pleasure of the thick, long penis thrusting in and out rapidly.

Ronan then grabbed one of the stockinged ankles with each hand, and while thrusting in and out, he would sometimes spread the legs apart and sometimes close them, twisting and swaying his waist and abdomen to make his thick, long penis churn inside and scrape against the vaginal walls. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Hmm," Madam Zhao responded, her toes twitching inside her stockings. "Oh, ah," she groaned, unable to utter a single clear word.

After fucking for a while, Ronan slowed down and then stopped. "This is only the beginning, and you're already like this, Ying."

After catching her breath, Madam Zhao glared at Ronan for a few seconds, then let out a muffled laugh, "Hmm, women are less effective at the front, and men are less effective at the back."

Madam Zhao was even in the mood to bicker with him, which really pleased Ronan.

“You have to be able to hold on until the end.” With that, Ronan turned Madam Zhao over so that she was bent over with her back to him, then grabbed her waist with both hands and entered her from behind, beginning a fierce and powerful fucking.

The buttocks, encased in ultra-thin, flesh-colored pantyhose that resembled a second skin, trembled incessantly with each impact, while a pair of breasts, though not particularly large, were pert and swayed constantly.

Madam Zhao kept her head down, gritted her teeth, and refused to make a sound.

Ronan, in a fit of rage, grabbed her legs and thrust forward while pulling her back. Each thrust felt like it was going to tear her apart. Madam Zhao flailed wildly like a drowning person. When she finally managed to grab a pillow, she immediately buried her head in it and bit down hard.

After enduring a long while, Ronan finally stopped. Madam Zhao turned her head, her hair disheveled, her face flushed, her breathing erratic, but she managed to squeeze out a slightly mocking smile.

“Heh.” Ronan sneered, then reached out and grabbed Madam Zhao’s waist, lifting her up with her back to him.

"No!" Madam Zhao cried out. She knew Ronan was about to go all out. She kicked wildly in the air, but couldn't break free. Then, his erect penis slid into her very wet and smooth vagina.

"Too late."

Ronan held her silk-clad buttocks with both hands and thrust into her repeatedly, each stroke reaching her core. Her cervix, which had already been fully developed by Ronan, gradually began to loosen, and finally, the tip of his penis opened her cervix.

"Oh, oh, oh~~" Madam Zhao let out a loud howl that was both shrill and wildly pleasurable. Her toes in her stockings clenched tightly inward, her nipples were erect as if they were about to detach from her breasts, and then a series of jets of climax followed.

She climaxed, and Ronan put her down, but showed no intention of stopping, continuing to thrust.

"No, no, I can't take it anymore," Madam Zhao pleaded. Having not done it for so long, her body was truly unable to withstand the onslaught.

“This is just the beginning,” Ronan said with a sneer. “I told you, tonight I’m going to fuck you until you pass out.”

Here, Ronan's sadism was just beginning.

At the same time, on a hillside on the edge of Tehran's new city, amidst heavy security, a woman wearing a dark gold cloak and a black bodysuit walked into a secret base that looked like a large warehouse and knocked on the door of a large room inside.

"Come in," came a reply from inside.

The woman in the dark gold cloak entered and saw a woman wearing oil-stained canvas overalls, large goggles, and with her hair tied up, machining parts on a lathe. The room was spacious enough to be laid out flat, yet the floor, tables, and workbenches were covered with blueprints, tools, and various mechanical parts. Saying there was no room to step might be an exaggeration, but the cloaked woman dared not approach any further, lest she touch anything. For the woman machining parts was none other than Menar, one of the two supreme beings of this country.

"Your Majesty, arrangements have been made for the two special individuals participating in the training camp," the cloaked woman said. "Specifics..."

Minaer interrupted her, "Thank you for your hard work, there's no rush."

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the cloaked woman bowed.

“Let’s grab a late-night snack together once I’m done with this,” Maina said while working.

Chapter 1156 In turbulent times, one cannot help but choose: the taste of home.

More than ten minutes later, Mainar temporarily finished what she was doing, took off her gloves and work clothes, but still wore her dirty boots and not-so-clean T-shirt, and walked out like that.

The so-called late-night snack was nothing more than chestnut cake with raisins and honey black tea.

While eating chestnut cake with one hand, Manar read the investigation report presented by the cloaked woman with the other.

The two special individuals the cloaked woman mentioned were Lavana and the ginger-haired girl Lavana and Ronan had encountered. After reviewing the information of the people who had entered the country with Lavana, Manar was initially taken aback, then smiled and put down the report.

The cloaked woman, puzzled, stood up and asked for instructions, "Your Majesty?" Mynar yawned, "Go and report to Mushir. There's nothing you need to do. Just arrange for them to stay in a dormitory and keep them under surveillance. As for the people who came with this Ravana, ignore them."

"Yes," the cloaked woman nodded.

Minaer beckoned, “Sit down and have some chestnut cake. This chestnut cake has imported sugar from Egypt, and the black tea is imported from India. All of this is the result of the hard work of the people, so we can’t waste it.”

"The Supreme One is truly..." The cloaked woman was interrupted by Manar before she could even begin to speak.

“Alright, let’s not talk about that,” Maina said. “You’re just not cut out for flattery.”

"I'm not, I am..." The cloaked woman began to speak, but was interrupted again.

Manar smiled. "I know you're sincere, but it's precisely because you're sincere that your words sound awkward. Those pretentious guys are good at spouting those high-level, flattering words that sound pleasant to hear." With that, she broke off a piece of chestnut cake for the cloaked woman.

The cloaked woman was flattered and took the chestnut cake, taking a small bite as if savoring a precious delicacy.

The two remained silent until they finished the chestnut cake, at which point the cloaked woman left.

After watching the cloaked woman leave, Manar sat on the recliner and let out a long sigh.

These are truly turbulent times, with open and covert struggles arising from disputes over the country's overall direction and disagreements over succession systems.

The debate over policy was between public and private ownership. Bureaucrats and clergy naturally favored public ownership, even though they did not own the means of production and wealth, and even though further public ownership would still be a market economy, they would undoubtedly gain greater dominance.

Emerging capital naturally tends towards private ownership, and its supporters are numerous. Ultimately, the exploitation of capital is not as direct as the exploitation of power. The Persian Republic was an emerging country, and many wealthy people there truly became rich through their own hard work and intelligence.

Like a typical example, he was originally a marginal member of a large family. After the founding of the People's Republic of China, his family fled, and everything they originally owned was gone.

That's how it was at the time. The Persian Republic wiped out the original aristocratic landlords and religious forces all at once, and did not carry out large-scale enfeoffment, turning the new ruling group into a group of new landlords and religious leaders.

Limited land was distributed to the poor, and Islamic law no longer governed the common people.

This typical gentleman could only herd sheep to barely support himself when he was a child. His mother also had two younger sisters. Even so, he spent the little money he had to apprentice as a carpenter. After completing his apprenticeship, he saved some money with it. Later, with his mother's guidance, he dug a well in the village. Of course, he didn't charge for the water. Instead, he let the villagers use it together. He only charged for the use and maintenance of the water-drawing machine. With this, he made some money.

But he didn't leave. Instead, he helped his fellow villagers, leading them in small businesses. Whenever someone needed help, he would contribute money and effort, earning them many goodwill. His success stemmed from someone he had once helped becoming a priest and achieving wealth, which gave him an opportunity to earn his first real fortune.

There are many people like him, which is why people in the Persian Republic today don't really hate the rich.

The inheritance system is a point of contention between hereditary succession and election.

Forty years after the founding of the People's Republic of China, the deep-rooted "trust" in hereditary succession here remains unchanged. Or rather, some cultural aspects are determined by natural geographical conditions. When you cannot change nature, you cannot change those so-called inherent aspects of a regional culture.

The dispute between the two issues had reached its final decisive stage. Manar and her sister, Mushir, could certainly decide who the victor was, but the tragedy lay in having to make such a choice, rather than truly coexisting. "One person can remain neutral, but a group of people tend to go to extremes," Manar recalled her father's words, and how true they were. She couldn't help but mutter, "That old man, I'm already at my wit's end, and you still come along to make things worse."

The woman the old man sent over was clearly the work of my mother and Aunt Canaan, but it didn't seem to be entirely their doing.

The identity of the other special girl is currently unknown.

One or two of them, they really don't know when to pick their moments to provoke others.

"I wonder what the old man is doing right now," Minaer sighed, looking out at the night sky.

The answer is to have sex with women.

Just after they finished, during Madam Zhao's second orgasm, Ronan also ejaculated, shooting outwards and onto her back, his thick, white semen covering her buttocks. Afterwards, the two embraced and caressed each other. Suddenly, Madam Zhao said, "I want to eat porridge."

“No problem, I’ll cook it for you.” Ronan readily agreed.

“I’d like to eat fish porridge from Shunde,” Mrs. Zhao added.

“Okay, change your clothes, we’ll fly over.” Ronan agreed as before.

A hundred years ago, it wasn't easy to find a porridge shop late at night, but nowadays, with the invention of gas lamps, workers can work at night, so naturally there are porridge shops that are still open late at night.

After changing clothes, they found a relatively secluded place with no light around and took off. Ronan took Mrs. Zhao directly to Shunde, Guangdong.

For Mrs. Zhao, Shunde could even be considered her first hometown.

As a child, she lived with her father in Bangladesh, a place that could hardly be considered her hometown. After her father was demoted to Northeast China due to his past misdeeds, she married Liu Menglong and soon came to Guangdong. Not long after, she moved to Foshan. Two years later, her husband died, and Ronan arranged for her to live in Shunde, where she lived for a long time, relying on her children for company. Later, she became the housekeeper of Ronan's household and thus became Ronan's woman.

For her, the fish porridge from Shunde is the taste of home.

Before, when she buried her son, she dared not recall that feeling.

Now, she has decided to look back, and she has truly moved on.

"Unfortunately, that old shop is no longer there."

Mrs. Zhao lamented that the location where the porridge shop once stood had now become part of a factory.

“More than a hundred years have passed, and this is still the case,” Ronan said.

Madam Zhao sighed, "Yes, more than a hundred years have passed in the blink of an eye."

As he walked in search of a porridge shop, Ronan said, "But it's still better than watching people grow old and become strangers. If I had to choose again, I would still choose to sleep."

The life of an immortal inevitably involves the passing away of loved ones.

Chapter 1157 Red High Heels and White Stockings, Ronan's Granddaughters, Coup

After finishing their evening porridge, Ronan and Madam Zhao flew to their old house, which was located on the outskirts of old Guangzhou.

Over the course of more than a hundred years, the area of ​​Guangzhou has expanded considerably. Tianhe District, where the old house is located, was originally considered a peripheral area, but now it is a central area.

The mansion that once stood on a gentle slope, consisting of three terraced buildings, is no longer there. In its place is a luxurious hotel, and the most important feature of this hotel is the garden, a blend of Chinese and Western styles, originally designed by Ambrina and a group of writers.

Ronan and Mrs. Zhao checked in late at night and, instead of staying in their hotel room, went to the garden.

The garden covers an area of ​​about 2,000 square meters, which is quite small for a garden. The hotel specially transformed it into an open-air scenic restaurant with only a dozen or so tables, ensuring that every seat has a different view and that guests at other tables will not be disturbed while dining.

As an open-air restaurant, there was no one here at this moment. Ronan and Mrs. Zhao came to the stone tablet under the artificial hill in the middle. The stone tablet was inscribed with an essay. It began by briefly explaining the reasons for building this garden. In the middle, it praised a group of designers, including Ambrina. Later, it quoted classics and concluded with a theme that expressed the reverie of the new era and the self-encouragement to realize one's ambitions.

Ronan gestured for Madam Zhao to walk towards the stone tablet.