In the corridor, An Rou's nude high heels made a soft sound. Walking beside Wang Xiong, she whispered comfortingly, "Director Shang hasn't been in a good mood these past few days, but it's alright, just bear with it. After the warehouse inventory is finished, I'll show you around our business..."
Wang Xiong looked at An Rou's long, slender legs encased in flesh-colored stockings, secretly calculating. This gentle woman always spoke up for him in front of Shang Yan, but now, he didn't need pity.
The two took the elevator to the ground floor and entered the Starbucks next to the company.
Wang Xiong specifically instructed the barista, "Please make it extra hot, the hotter the better." When the barista served the coffee, which felt scalding even through the sleeve, a barely perceptible smile appeared on Wang Xiong's lips.
Back in the office, Shang Yan was looking down at warehouse documents.
Her posture remained elegant. Her smoky gray suit accentuated her perfect waistline, her legs, encased in pearly gray stockings, were crossed, and her black pointed high heels swayed gently.
"Director Shang," Wang Xiong called out, slowly walking over with the coffee.
Shang Yan turned and saw Wang Xiong, coldly saying, "Why did you take so long? Hurry up!"
Wang Xiong didn't say anything, but deliberately slowed his pace. The closer he got, the more he could smell the sexy yet dangerous perfume on Shang Yan—a scent with an aggressive undertone.
Just as he was about to hand her the coffee, he flicked his wrist, his fingertips squeezing the cup tightly. The lid instantly flew off, and the scalding coffee splashed onto Shang Yan's stockinged legs!
"Ah!"
Shang Yan exclaimed, jumping up abruptly. Her 10cm black heels slammed heavily on the floor. Her exquisite makeup appeared even more alluring with anger, her eyes flashing with barely suppressed fury.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Director Shang..."
Wang Xiong lowered his head, feigning panic, but inwardly he was overjoyed, his eyes constantly darting around to observe Shang Yan's reaction.
"Get some tissues, quick!" Shang Yan's stern voice trembled slightly, whether from the burn or anger, it was hard to tell.
Wang Xiong frantically pulled out some tissues, but Shang Yan snatched them away.
"Get out of my way!" she said coldly. "I can do it myself."
She sat back in her office chair, elegantly crossing her long legs, and began to gently wipe the coffee stains from her stockings. Every movement exuded elegance and arrogance, as if reminding Wang Xiong of the difference in their social standing.
"Director Shang, would you like to go to the restroom..." An Rou stood to the side, her gentle voice tinged with concern.
"No need," Shang Yan said coldly, her red lips slightly parted. "You can leave now."
After An Rou left, the atmosphere in the office suddenly became tense.
Shang Yan slowly raised her head, her eyes coldly fixed on Wang Xiong: "Kneel down."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.
Wang Xiong cursed inwardly, "Damn it, always making people kneel down, are you some kind of company executive or a slave owner?"
Considering his current situation, Wang Xiong decided to endure it for now, so he gritted his teeth and knelt down.
From his angle, Shang Yan, sitting in her office chair, looked even more striking with her long, straight legs encased in grey stockings. The subtle pearlescent sheen and the gently swaying toes of her high heels exuded a captivating charm unique to mature women.
"Is this all you've got?" Shang Yan tossed aside the tissue in her hand, a cold smile playing on her lips. She raised her right foot, her slender heel lightly pressing against Wang Xiong's shoulder. "Staring at my stockinged legs, then deliberately picking a fight?"
"Director Shang, I didn't mean to..." Wang Xiong still feigned an honest demeanor.
"Didn't mean to?"
Shang Yan suddenly increased the pressure, her high-heeled foot on his shoulder slamming down, causing Wang Xiong to stumble and fall backward! "Ugh…"
Wang Xiong groaned, not yet reacting, when Shang Yan suddenly stood up, taking advantage of the moment to step forward. Her long, slender, gray-stockinged leg lifted, and she stomped down heavily, the heel of her high heel landing precisely on his chest!
"Ah—hiss—"
Wang Xiong couldn't help but cry out. Through his clothes, he could clearly feel the cold touch of the sharp heel.
"A mere mover, daring to play tricks on me?" Shang Yan's gray-stockinged leg pressed against Wang Xiong's chest as she looked down at him, her voice filled with contempt. "Think you can get away with anything just because you were hired by President Xia? Let me tell you, I can fire you anytime with a single word!"
As she spoke, Shang Yan applied slight pressure with her foot, the heel digging deep into Wang Xiong's clothes, causing a sharp pain in his chest.
"Remember your place."
Shang Yan finally withdrew her foot, turned gracefully, and returned to her office chair in her high heels. She slowly sat down, her long legs crossed, her black pointed high heels gleaming coldly under the light.
"Aren't you going to get out?" She raised an eyebrow. "Get out and continue moving your goods." Saying this, she picked up the files on the table and flipped through them. "Oh, right," without looking up, her red lips parted slightly, "today's workload is doubled. Once you've moved all the boxes from the Lis series, the Qingya series is yours too. Since you like looking at stockings so much, you might as well spend more time with them."
Wang Xiong got up from the floor and straightened his disheveled shirt.
As he turned to leave the office, he could hear the sound of files turning behind him and the light tapping of Shang Yan's high heels on the floor.
He rubbed his aching chest, a glint of malice flashing in his eyes, silently adding another mark against Shang Yan in his mind.
…
Another day ended, and Wang Xiong still didn't come to class this afternoon.
Pushing open the ornately carved doors, I entered the high-ceilinged European-style living room. Xia Ling sat on the leather sofa, dressed in her familiar stockings, her small, fleshy feet in slippers, flipping through a document.
"Xiaowei's back. Let's eat," she said, looking up at me with a gentle smile.
Watching her elegant demeanor, my mind involuntarily flashed back to last night—in the study, Xia Ling biting her lip, trembling as she pressed that pink butterfly to her lower body; in the bedroom, she stood before the mirror, looking at her reflection while reaching down to her genitals, repeatedly stimulating herself…
These images lingered in my mind like a persistent, stabbing wound, filling me with both shame and an irresistible urge.
At the dining table, Xia Ling's phone rang occasionally.
But unlike usual, she only replied to a few messages briefly. Tomorrow was the press conference; most of the details should have been arranged. At this moment, she seemed to be confirming the final preparations.
I watched Xia Ling exude the aura of a powerful businesswoman, yet I couldn't help but recall her loss of control during her pleasure last night. This stark contrast made my heart race; I felt both guilty and unable to extricate myself.
"Mom, is the press conference tomorrow?" I asked tentatively.
"Yes," Xia Ling said softly, wiping her mouth gracefully. "Get some rest, don't worry."
Seeing Xia Ling unconsciously rubbing her thigh every now and then, I couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking about that pink butterfly that she couldn't resist again. This dinner passed in a state of complex emotion.
...
As night deepened, I tiptoed to Xia Ling's study door. Warm yellow light filtered through the crack in the door, casting an ambiguous shadow that outlined Xia Ling's elegant figure behind the desk.
Xia Ling had changed into a champagne-colored silk nightgown; the neckline was just right, revealing glimpses of her high, white breasts. Her nightgown barely covered the top of her thighs, her long legs still encased in sheer flesh-colored stockings, her delicate feet resting in her slippers.
Mom was staring at the computer, occasionally brushing a strand of hair from her forehead, revealing her elegant neck. A strange feeling suddenly welled up inside me. Was Mom looking at work documents, or browsing that forum?
Suddenly, a familiar cell phone rang. Mom glanced at the caller ID, frowned slightly, hesitated for a moment, and then answered the video call.
"Sister Xia, when are you going to make me Shang Yan's assistant?" Wang Xiong's nauseating voice rang out. "That slut gave me trouble again today, making me buy her coffee and even kneel down before her, damn it!"
Xia Ling maintained her usual aloof demeanor, her voice indifferent: "You can't even handle it after just a few days? If I really make you her assistant, you'll be spending every day with her. Are you sure you can handle that?"
"That's none of your business, Sister Xia," Wang Xiong perked up immediately. "Just tell me when you can arrange it?"