A sequel to the previous novel about a company employee seducing a receptionist.

The original poster genuinely doesn't know how to add illustrations, so they looked up some tutorials. It's not that they don't want to add illustrations, but they usually browse this forum on their phone. Their home computer isn't suitable for posting. Because if they're working on a long article on the computer, their wife will definitely come over to see what they're doing.
So last time, they wrote their novel directly on their work computer and published it. Typing it on a phone is too much trouble.
Now it's February 6th. Let me tell you about yesterday's story:
To be honest, although the initial spark was exciting, after the first encounter with the receptionist, perhaps both of them had reservations, or perhaps they had other defenses. They had
originally planned to strike while the iron was hot and try to seduce the receptionist again, but perhaps the passion faded or something. The receptionist's attitude towards them changed drastically. She barely responded to their WeChat messages, and when they tried to chat with her at night, she simply said she was going to take a shower and go to bed.
Perhaps she didn't want to provoke them, but this coldness made them consider giving up on seducing her.
However, they were also open-minded; distance was safer for both of them. After all, they were married men. But some things are just hard to explain, and another little incident occurred.
The time clock beeped. It was lunchtime. I was reading a novel on Qidian and was delayed for a while before going downstairs to the cafeteria. I
happened to run into the receptionist, a few of my female colleagues, and some of their usual colleagues queuing for food. I naturally joined the queue behind them and casually chatted with one of my closest female colleagues at the receptionist.
"Hey, did you get your hair done? You look a bit different today, it looks great..."
This compliment started off well and created a positive reaction.
"Really? I didn't do anything special..."
The girl giggled. I glanced at the receptionist out of the corner of my eye; although she didn't show any expression, there was a hint of discomfort in her eyes.
Everyone got their food (the company pays for the buffet). I said to them, "Today I'm alone. My usual lunch buddies abandoned me, so I'll eat with you guys today."
The girl I praised didn't seem to mind and happily invited me to eat with them.
Several of us sat down around a round table.
Seeing the receptionist sit down first, I quickly walked over and sat down next to her. She frowned slightly, but quickly the frown disappeared, replaced by a natural expression.
I continued to chat with everyone, making small talk as we ate. Most of the conversation revolved around the receptionist's best friend, with occasional exchanges between the receptionist and herself.
She joined in naturally.
Halfway through the meal, I couldn't just sit idle. I continued chatting and joking with the receptionist's friend, trying to amuse everyone. A surge of excitement welled up inside me, and my toe lightly touched the receptionist's calf.
At first, she thought I had only touched her and shifted slightly to avoid my toe. But my hormones were kicking in. My
toe relentlessly followed her calf, gently rubbing it up and down. The receptionist, not daring to make any obvious movements that might attract attention, could only let me do as I pleased.
I pretended to be nonchalant and continued my light rubbing. But inside, I felt a thrilling pleasure. I felt a sense of pleasure wash over me. I fantasized that the receptionist must be feeling incredibly embarrassed and indignant, and whether she might be experiencing any feelings.
As a man, I ate much faster than a woman. I quickly finished my food and sat down to wait for the others to continue eating.
I put my hand under the table and lightly touched the receptionist's thigh
with my fingers. Although it was the dead of winter and women were wearing thick cotton stockings, the elasticity felt even more comfortable than actual skin contact. I didn't dare make any big movements, only gently rubbing the outer edge of her thigh. After a while, a thought suddenly occurred to me.
I took out my phone and pretended to play with it, accidentally knocking the chopsticks off the table. I bent down to get the chopsticks, and in a casual gesture, I grabbed the receptionist's crotch. She
nearly jumped up in fright. The other women around her quickly asked what was wrong, then looked at me suspiciously.
"You can go down now, but why did you step on my foot..." she said, putting on a slightly angry yet innocent expression.
I quickly apologized.
My anticipation grew stronger, and I sensed a wonderful afternoon was about to begin after lunch. I was secretly delighted.
...
After lunch, we all returned to the company. I had barely sat down when my boss called me, saying a client had arrived. As a frontline technician, I was responsible for addressing the issues raised by customer service.
Then came the meeting...the meeting...The meeting ended with ten minutes left before the end of the workday. Of course, entertaining the client with food and drinks was the boss's job.
Those of us just noted down the client's questions and resolved them within the allotted time.
After an afternoon of meetings, I lost all interest in flirting with the receptionist in the office. Back at my seat, I packed my things and prepared to go home.
...
Around 9:10 PM, I finished watching two episodes of my nightly drama, "Mr. Right." As I prepared to take a shower, a thought crossed my mind, and I told my wife, "I need to use the toilet first, then I'll shower." I
grabbed my phone and went into the bathroom.
Sitting on the toilet, I didn't actually intend to use the toilet. Instead, I opened WeChat and contacted the receptionist. The conversation went something like this:
"If you reply that you're going to sleep again, I'll do what happened at noon today a few more times."
"..."
I received an ellipsis, and I knew this was my chance to gain the upper hand.
"Don't worry too much, I won't go too far. After all, I have a family. I don't want others to know about us; it won't do me any good."
"If you want peace, the best thing you can do right now is not to bother me."
"If I don't bother you, how can I be at peace? I'm going crazy thinking about you, and you say I'm fine?"
"...Then what do you want?"
"My wife just gave birth and is still recovering. I can't have sex with her during this time. Please, for my own well-being, don't hold it against me..."
"Hold it against me? I'm already like that, what have I held against you? Have I asked anything of you? Have I made any demands of you?"
"It's true I haven't given you anything materially, but have you ever experienced such intense emotional stimulation? I crave emotional stimulation, and you can give me that. What happened at noon makes me really want to have sex now. My mind is filled with images of your body. I want to have some kind of 'literary lovemaking' with you."
"Literary lovemaking? What's that?"
"Text love is making love with words. I've started. I'm fantasizing about kissing your Dior 999 red lips, sucking on your saliva."
"..."
"My hands are tearing open your coat, squeezing your breasts, your breasts are constantly deforming in my hands..."
"..."
"You're not into it. Use words to stimulate me. Make me masturbate, I'll finish and that's it."
"Okay, go on, I'll try to reply to you..."
"I'll get my penis hard, put it in front of your mouth, and you stick out your tongue for me to lick."
The receptionist sent me a picture of a tongue sticking out, with a wicked smile.
Hey! You're really on point! I was secretly delighted.
"I'm kissing your left breast right now, and your right hand is rubbing your right breast."
"..."
"What are you dawdling for? Hurry up and send me a picture of your exposed breasts, your right hand touching your right breast."
"What if the photo gets leaked? What if it's leaked?"
"What are you afraid of? Nobody will see. Just don't show your face." After sending the message, I sent her a picture of my erect penis.
"Hey, private swap."
"Damn, it's wet..."
I was so excited! This girl was finally aroused.
"Take a picture and show it to me, let me see how much you've wet."
...

That's roughly how it went. During this time, we exchanged a lot of dirty talk and private photos on WeChat. Finally, I ejaculated quite a bit. And the receptionist, under my gradual guidance, started masturbating with her fingers—it was her first time. I felt incredibly satisfied. Then we said goodnight to each other, and I went to take a shower.
That's all for now. I'll write more later if there's anything else worth writing about
.

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A sequel to the previous novel about a company employee seducing a receptionist.

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