Qiu Mingyue suffers from insomnia again, haunted by thoughts of the same person. Strangely, even though she didn't get a clear view of Zhou Su's face at 'nedo', her recollections grow more vivid - his handsome brows and eyes, lips reddened from drinking, yet a cold aura surrounds him, as if his gaze, piercing and aloof, was not on the movie but on her.
It's as if her brain has rewritten her memories.
She recalls a vivid dream where the images of Zhou Su standing dominantly on the second floor and unfastening his belt while straddling her overlap. Qiu Mingyue covers her face, wondering why she always imagines Zhou Su in such a domineering way, even though she yearns for a pure romance...
But, it's undeniably sexy.
A sensuality that tempts even the timid to yearn for a taste.
Qiu Mingyue's thoughts begin to blur.
The week has been hectic, work draining her mentally and physically. After work, thinking about waking up early the next day often leaves her exhausted. But now it's Friday, no alarm clock for tomorrow, and it seems she can indulge without restraint.
Flipping through her phone's local files, she still hasn't transferred Zhou Su's audio back. She longs to hear his voice; others seem bland in comparison, and she's listened to her only alternative, Teacher E's recordings, too many times. Enjoyable at first, repetition has dulled their appeal.
She opens the purple app, curious for new content.
Logging in, a flood of notifications crashes the app, causing it to blink out.
Lying on her bed, phone in hand, her fingers stiffen in shock.
Notifications are limited to WeChat and work apps, so she's clueless about the cause. It's never been more than a message or private chat.
Cyberbullied?
Unlikely, she hadn't posted anything recently, nor had she logged in this week.
Data breach?
A terrifying thought, but Qiu Mingyue dismisses it. She never shared personal information online; there's nothing to leak.
Unable to think of other reasons, she steadies her nerves and re-enters the app. This time, after several seconds of lag, the app stabilizes.
Comments, private messages, likes, @mentions – all exceed the 99+ notification limit.
Despite earlier doubts, confirming that her last weekend's erotica caused this frenzy still shocks Qiu Mingyue.
Her female-oriented scripts, though products of momentary passion, were tagged and publicly authorized without any real expectation of attention. They were more an imitation of others she'd seen than a serious endeavor.
Due to the overwhelming amount of feedback, she can't trace the source, but it seems her work was shared by an influential bot, one she also follows. Many @mentioned their favorite male voice actors, pushing her script into the spotlight because Teacher E had recorded it.
The top comment reads: "Ahhh, Teacher E recorded it, sisters! Stereo sound is so amazing, you can't miss this!!! I saw that madam also follows Teacher E, mutual crush [ecstatic]"
Attached is a direct link: [E] Inviting the Boss Upstairs for a Wake-Up Tea after Team Building.
Qiu Mingyue hears an internal explosion of embarrassment.
From all sides.
Propelled onto a high stage as an ordinary person, she's flustered but a step forward could win the adoration of a long-admired king. Amid anxiety, an undeniable thrill and excitement surge within her.
Qiu Mingyue clicks the link, a 15-minute recording.
She presses play.
Her thoughts are muddled, unable to recall her own writing, hesitant to revisit, wanting to detach but captivated as the man's gentle, magnetic voice vibrates her eardrums. The dreamy passion, post-dream longing, and unspeakable desires of recent days converge and soothe, tenderly manipulated by warm, fervent hands.
"This week has been tough, go upstairs, see you Monday."
The siren call awakens the female protagonist in her fantasy: "Director, won't you come up for a visit?"
"No thanks."
"I made some kumquat tea, it might help with the alcohol."
Her usual timidity around her icy boss lingers, but alcohol emboldens her, unwittingly adopting a coquettish tone.
She remembers clearly because it's an embodiment of her writing, listening to a voice resembling her crush, basking in the bliss of realized fantasies.
"Are you drunk?"
"Not drunk."
A teasing laugh, "Not drunk? Do you know what you're saying, hmm?"
His nasal query, a calm rejection or a further seduction? With newfound courage, she answers firmly, hoping to please him.
A dangerously low voice, "Your face is so red... just inviting me for tea , is that it?"
Her thoughts exposed, she can't admit it and looks down, watching his shiny shoe tips approach closer.
A faint chuckle overhead.
He really takes her upstairs, punches in the code to unlock the door, and quickly makes two cups of kumquat lemon tea in the kitchen, returning to the living room as if to prove something.
"It tastes good. How did you make it?"
He listens quietly and patiently as she explains the recipe. Wanting more time together, she elaborates on simple steps, even diverging into how to clean lemons more efficiently and the best proportions for taste.
Running out of things to say, her throat dry, she finishes her tea and goes to pour another cup, but her wrist is caught: "Thirsty? How about this?"
Suddenly, she's pushed onto the sofa. As she opens her mouth to exclaim, a cool, sour liquid is poured in. The tea dribbles down her chin and into her clothing, sending a shiver through her body and inviting more intense invasion, their lips and tongues creating ambiguous sounds.
The glass on the coffee table is accidentally knocked over and shatters, briefly halting their desires.
"Still thirsty? Not anymore, huh... Then why is your mouth still open? Want me to feed you more?" He breathes heavily, his voice dropping to a whisper, "You little tease, what do you want to drink? What do you desire?"
He adds, "Isn't this what you wanted? To be pinned down by me. Or did you really just want to offer me tea? Why then, does a single kiss make you this wet? Or were you already wet?"
His voice deepens, igniting an unbearable itch deep within, his hot breath returning, his gentle kisses like spring rain on budding branches.
"Stick out your tongue, don't be shy... Good girl, see how nice this is? Say what you want. Do you know how you look at me? Every time you come to my office, your ears turn red. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Your nipples are hard too. Do you like this, my tongue circling your nipples? Tell me you like it. Say how much... You sound so lovely."
Attentively worshiping her body, every touch from his lips and tongue causes her to melt, embarrassingly pleasurable. Caught between shame and desire, her arousal rises uncontrollably, trembling in anticipation and fear of the overwhelming pleasure.
"What's wrong? You've become so wet, is it that good? Your thighs are trembling... about to climax?"
The sounds of sucking, the image of his warm tongue parting her seems so vivid.
His voice is like a trophy hunter, "Don't rush, just using fingers and you're this tight. Another climax, how adorable. You kept saying no, but now you're just spreading your legs. Look, my fingers are drenched. Have you been wanting me to do this? So sensitive."
His belt unbuckles, almost feeling it against her face.
Accompanied by the sound of stroking, his breath grows husky and rapid: "Look at me, are you afraid? Not afraid? Then why can't you look at me in the office, hmm? Shy? What are you shy about? Are you thinking naughty thoughts at work? Imagining me undressing you, lying beneath me, marking your body with my cock?" He laughs with pleasure, "So you want to be mine? Good job at work, so shall I go inside? Take it in, ah... so eager, huh? Relax... mmm, feels so good."
After fully joining, their bodies seek a rhythm, escalating from slow to intense, preparing for climax with almost cruel intensity.
"You're so tight, hmm, wet and slippery, wrapping around me as soon as I enter, so hungry... Do you enjoy being fucked by me? What did you do when you wanted it before? Masturbate thinking of me? Got it right? How do you do it, tell me, say it..."
She confesses without restraint.
Spanking her, his rough breathing uncontrollable: "Recording my voice to masturbate to, who taught you that? You love my voice so much? Do you get wet hearing me at work? Is that why you can't look at me? At meetings, pretending to focus, secretly clenching your legs, right?" A sharper spank, "Not paying attention, do you need to be punished? Squeeze tighter at the thought. I should teach you a lesson. How? By fucking you like this, so you remember not to lust after your boss, or you'll end up like this, fucked by your superior until you squirt. How will you work after this?"
Perhaps, her legs tightly wrap around his lean waist, but the only real support is his erect member. Looking down, she sees it moving inside her, the sticky fluid wetting her inner thighs, creating a mess.
"Another orgasm? Count them, how many times have you climaxed? Do you even remember? Being held and fucked, does it feel better? The deepest parts touched. It feels like you're being opened up, clinging to me desperately at every touch. Do you want me to fill you? Hmm? You do? Alright, I'll give it all to you. You've worked so hard, you deserve a reward. So good, amazing, climax again for me, huh? So cute, I'm about to... I'll give it to you, hmm—"
His unrestrained, ferocious surges signal the peak, an unforgettable, willing descent into bliss.
"Really amazing, so good, I'll carry you to the sofa," he sighs contentedly post-release, gently patting her backside, tenderly kissing and soothing her, "Still so tight, haven't had enough? If we keep going, you'll break... Shall I pull out? Ah, it's all flowing out, so beautiful... Inviting your boss to come inside you, never knew you were so bold. The tea was delicious, but... how does my cum taste? Good? You like it so much, then from now on, it's all for you, okay?"
"Mingyue."
Even in fantasy, a name she dares not, and can never, write.
Forever incomplete, in the end.
Feels pretty explicit, better mark this chapter with H! (wowwwwwwwww)"