Hospitality Man Series I: His Babymaker Client (ENGLISH VERSION)

CHAPTER 3

THE soft, insistent knocking at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I rose from the couch, clad only in my cycling shorts, my skin still damp from the shower. The cool air brushed against me as I made my way to the door.

When I opened it, she stood there, the woman who had asked for my number just days before. Her Western-style dress clung elegantly to her figure, complemented by an ivory coat that draped over her shoulders like a second skin. Her eyes met mine, hesitant yet curious.

“Hi,” she greeted softly, her voice carrying a hint of shyness.

I smiled, stepping aside to let her in. “Come in,” I said, my tone warm and inviting. As she crossed the threshold, I reached for her coat, gently slipping it off her shoulders and hanging it on the hook behind the door.

She glanced around my condo, her eyes taking in the space with a quiet curiosity. “Do you want anything? Juice? Coffee?” I offered, breaking the silence.

“No, no… I’m fine,” she replied, her smile tentative but genuine.

I guided her to the living room, where we both settled onto the couch. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, the silence stretching like a taut string. As the man, I felt the need to take the lead, to steer the conversation—or lack thereof—into something more tangible.

“So, about that… you hiring me thing,” I began, my voice steady but probing.

“Ah… uhm… here’s the cash,” she stammered, reaching into her bag and placing a neat stack of bills on the glass table between us.

I studied her for a moment, my gaze lingering as she kept her eyes downcast. “Can I ask you something?” I ventured, my voice low but firm.

She looked up, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. “Yes?” she whispered.

“Why did you hire me?” I asked directly, my tone leaving no room for evasion.

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she gathered her thoughts. “I… I want to experience it with you,” she confessed, her voice trembling slightly.

“Why me?” I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

She hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she remained silent, her gaze dropping once more.

I moved closer to her, closing the distance between us until our thighs nearly touched. My hand found its way to her leg, my fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path upward until they reached the curve where her hip met her thigh. She shivered under my touch, her breath hitching as I cupped her face and turned it toward mine.

“Look at me,” I commanded softly, my voice firm but gentle. “No matter what, keep your eyes on mine.”

Her breath came in shallow bursts as I guided one of her legs over mine, her body responding instinctively. My hand continued its journey, exploring the warmth between her legs, feeling the heat radiating from her core. She blinked rapidly, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her eyes locked on mine as I had instructed.

I slipped my hand beneath the fabric of her underwear, my fingers brushing against her most intimate folds. She gasped, her body tensing as I teased her, my touch light but deliberate. Her lips parted in a silent plea, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Stand up,” I instructed, my voice calm but commanding. She obeyed without hesitation, rising to her feet as I watched her every move.

“Take off your clothes,” I added, my tone leaving no room for argument. Slowly, she began to undress, her hands trembling as she peeled away each layer until only her bra and underwear remained.

“All of it,” I prompted, my voice steady.

With a deep breath, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, followed by her underwear. She stood before me, completely exposed, her body a canvas of soft curves and delicate lines. The sight of her sent a surge of desire through me, my own body responding in kind.

“How old are you?” I asked, my voice low.

“I’m 22,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“How many have there been before me?” I pressed, my curiosity getting the better of me.

She remained silent, her eyes avoiding mine, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was troubling her. What was going on in her mind? I gestured toward the space beside me, my voice calm but firm. “Sit here,” I instructed.

She obeyed without a word, settling herself next to me. I stood, my movements deliberate, and began to undress, shedding my clothes until only my briefs remained. Kneeling before her, I gently guided her legs apart, positioning her so that she was open to me. Her breath hitched as I spread her thighs wider, her body tensing slightly under my touch. I could see her clearly now, her vulnerability laid bare before me. She was tight, untouched, and the sight of her made me smile faintly.

I stood again, retrieving a condom from the drawer nearby. Returning to my position in front of her, I quickly removed my briefs and secured the condom in place. My body was something I took pride in—not just my face, but every inch of me. My length was long, thick, and pale, with a slight reddish hue at the tip, a testament to my mixed heritage. I knew it was a sight to behold, and I could see the flicker of apprehension in her eyes as she took it in.

I entered her slowly, feeling her body resist at first. Her face contorted in discomfort, and I paused, giving her a moment to adjust. But I didn’t ask if she was okay; I could tell she was, even if it hurt. I thrust deeper, and she cried out, her voice breaking the silence of the room. Her brows furrowed, and she glanced down, her eyes widening as she noticed the blood. A virgin? I couldn’t help but smirk. Two in one day—what were the odds?

I withdrew slightly, my tip still inside her, and gathered my strength. I wasn’t one for half-hearted efforts. I believed in making an impression, something that would linger in her memory long after this moment. Women didn’t want vanilla; they craved intensity, roughness, something that would leave them breathless.

I thrust again, harder this time, burying myself deep within her. Her pubic region cradled me, her body trembling as I moved. Her expression was a mix of pain and pleasure, and it only fueled my desire. She tried to push me away, but her efforts were futile. I was in control, and she knew it.

“Please… ah… be… gentle,” she moaned, her voice trembling.

I pulled back, adjusting her position. I laid her on the sofa, placing a couple of pillows beneath her hips to elevate her. I entered her from behind, knowing this angle would be more intense for her. Pain, I knew, often heightened pleasure, and I wanted her to feel every bit of it.

“Moan if you like it. Don’t hold back,” I instructed, my voice low and commanding.

She obeyed, her moans growing louder with each thrust. The sound of her pleasure filled the room, a symphony of gasps and cries that only spurred me on. The suction-like sounds of our bodies moving together were almost hypnotic, a rhythm that neither of us could escape.

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, her climax building and crashing multiple times. But I wasn’t done yet. I wanted her to reach that ultimate peak, the kind that would leave her breathless and trembling. I shifted her onto her side, one leg draped over mine, and entered her again from behind. This position allowed me to go even deeper, and I could feel her body responding, her moans growing more desperate.

I kissed her neck, my hands exploring her body, teasing her n*****s until they hardened under my touch. She was close to fainting, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, but I wouldn’t let her sleep—not yet.

Finally, I laid her flat on the sofa, positioning myself above her for the missionary position. I entered her once more, my movements quick and relentless, like a rabbit in heat. She reached climax after climax, her body writhing beneath me, but I wasn’t finished. I could feel my own release building, the tension in my body reaching its peak.

When it finally came, I shuddered, my body convulsing as I reached my climax. I stayed on top of her for a few minutes, my body still trembling from the intensity of it all. She regained consciousness slowly, her eyes fluttering open as I brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her cheek.

I stood, heading to the bathroom to clean up. After a quick shower, I returned to find her dressing, her movements hurried. She grabbed her bag, avoiding my gaze.

“I think I’m going to go,” she said, her voice distant.

“Can I stop you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“No,” she replied flatly.

“Let me at least escort you out,” I offered, walking her to the door.

We stood there for a moment, our eyes meeting briefly. I smiled, realizing for the first time how beautiful she was. She nodded, her voice soft. “Thanks.”

She took a few steps before stopping abruptly. Turning back, she closed the distance between us and kissed me on the lips. “I’m going now. Bye… and thanks,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she walked away, her steps unsteady.

I considered following her, but she had made it clear she wanted to leave alone. Sighing, I returned to my bed, collapsing onto it with a sense of satisfaction. “Time to sleep,” I muttered, closing my eyes and letting the exhaustion take over.