Watching my wife’s figure disappear through the hotel’s revolving door, her anxious heartbeat seemed to still echo inside the car. I got out, lit a cigarette, then walked into the hotel lobby. There was no trace of my wife left in the lobby. I found a corner seat at the lobby bar, from where I could clearly see both the main entrance and the elevators.
“Are you there yet?” I sent her a message.
“Yeah, no one’s here!” she replied quickly.
I glanced at the front desk and the elevator area—still no guests.
“Maybe he hasn’t arrived yet. I’m in the lobby, keep an eye on my messages,” I replied to my wife.
More than ten minutes passed without any “suspicious” figures appearing. I stared at the lavishly decorated lobby, its marble floor gleaming, chandeliers casting an ambiguous glow, the air filled with a faint fragrance. I thought to myself, “Calling a prostitute in such a high-end place—her ‘client’ must be some rich guy! Hope she performs well tonight and brings back a big score!”
Just as I was about to give up, at 11:50 my phone suddenly lit up with a message: “He’s here.” Only two words—clearly sent in a hurry.
My heart clenched, my breathing quickened. I didn’t dare message her again, afraid she’d get in trouble if the client saw her on her phone. Calming myself, I got ready to head upstairs, only to remember that the only room card had already been taken by my wife—I couldn’t get up there! I turned back toward my seat and realized the lobby was now completely empty. Feeling uneasy, I lowered my head and quickly left the hotel. I didn’t dare linger at the entrance in case security questioned me, so I returned to the car, staring up at the lit windows on the 16th floor, my mind racing with images of my wife with a stranger.
Inside room 1606, my wife was now kneeling half-naked before a middle-aged man, eagerly sucking his cock.
The man reeked of alcohol. His eyes greedily roamed over my wife as he smirked, “Your body is something else. I’ve had plenty of women, but this is the first time I’ve had tits this big.” My wife bobbed her head vigorously, a strand of clear saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth onto the crimson carpet.
“Fuck! That’s good! Stop sucking or I’ll cum!” The man grabbed her head to stop her, pulling his stiff cock from her mouth. He reached out and squeezed her breasts, kneading them roughly.
No man could stay calm when faced with those huge tits—that was exactly why she had passed the “company” assessment and gotten the job. The man’s full attention was now fixed on those two mounds of flesh, squeezing and kneading them while muttering all sorts of filthy remarks.
Although his grip was rough and painful, my wife’s anxious heart finally settled. It seemed the man was satisfied with her—tonight’s “job” was secured.
Enduring the discomfort in her chest, she lightly trailed her fingers across his torso and said in a sticky voice, “As long as you like it, big brother. I’ll make sure you have a great time tonight.” The man pulled her onto the sofa, one hand still playing with her breasts while the other slid up her pale thigh beneath her skirt.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, gently licking his earlobe with her tongue, and whispered breathily, “Big brother, fuck me~”
The man was no amateur; he wasn’t about to be seduced so easily. With a wicked grin he squeezed harder, making her cry out.
“Didn’t your boss teach you how to serve a man? All you know is ‘fuck me, fuck me’ the moment you walk in. Do you take me for a virgin? You love cock so much—want me to call a few guys to fuck you senseless?”
Seeing his displeasure, my wife grew nervous. She forced a smile and leaned into his arms, teasingly unbuttoning his shirt. “Don’t worry, bro. I’m the best at taking care of people. Let’s take a shower first—I’ll wash you up,” she cooed, starting to undress him.
The man let out a satisfied belch and, completely naked, led her into the bathroom. She turned on the shower; hot water cascaded down, instantly filling the room with steam. She slipped off her panties, revealing her full hips and thighs, and began washing him with her ample breasts swaying. Her nimble hands roamed over his body, drawing low moans from him. When her soapy hand reached his crotch and gently grasped his erect cock, he groaned in pleasure. She stroked him a few times, feeling it grow even harder and hotter in her hand.
The man wasn’t very tall, so she could easily wrap her large breasts around his cock while kneeling. She rubbed him between them, occasionally lowering her head to lick his urethral opening with her slender tongue.
Overstimulated by alcohol and lust, he soon shuddered and shot his load across her face. She tilted her head up, licking her sexy red lips clean with the tip of her tongue, then looked up at him with watery eyes, gazing seductively like a well-behaved pet waiting for praise. Biting her lower lip, she whispered, “Bro, it’s so thick… Do you like it when I do this?”
“Shit, you made me cum already!” The man was a bit disappointed at finishing so fast, but he couldn’t blame her—the titjob had felt incredible, a perfect mix of physical and visual pleasure. That shot had been worth every penny.
After carefully drying him off, my wife checked the time—it was already 12:30. The man was completely sober now. He led her to the bed and lay face down. She took out the essential oil she carried, warmed some in her hands, and began massaging his back and waist, pressing and kneading while murmuring, “Does that feel good, bro?”
The man sighed in enjoyment. “You’re pretty good at this. Keep going.” Smiling seductively, she leaned down and pressed her full breasts against his back, slowly giving him a body slide. He let out a long breath. “Fuck! This is the real deal!”
While he was enjoying himself, she glanced at her phone and said awkwardly, “Bro, time’s up…”