Itching, still feeling very itchy, it's so uncomfortable.
Eleanor Spencer tugged on Nancy Carter's clothes, rubbing vigorously against her.
Nancy Carter saw the scratch marks all over her body from her scratching, furrowed her brows, grabbed her hand, and said sternly, "Stop scratching, Isabel! Keep going and your face will be ruined!"
"No, I can't, it's so itchy, I'm so itchy, please scratch me, I'm begging you, Nancy, please help me scratch, okay?"
Eleanor Spencer lifted her small face, her cheeks flushed like peach blossoms, her beguiling eyes carrying a hint of glamour, looking at her pleadingly.
Nancy Carter was stunned, her heart skipped a beat, this face, pure and seductive at the same time, even she felt tempted, but—
Nancy Carter's face darkened, "No... um..."
Eleanor Spencer actually pounced on Nancy Carter, "Nancy, think of something fast, I'm itching to death!"
