Just Doing My Job5 (3)
IN PICS: MEGHA | CONTRIBUTED BY: DEEP (TELEGRAM)
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Some of my stories are loosely based on real-life incidents, but details are fictionalized. My stories involve unsafe sexual acts. I do not condone unprotected sex and recommend readers to always practice safe sex. The risk is not worth it. These are fantasies and meant for entertainment only. My stories are my hobby — an expression of my erotic side. I mean no disrespect to women featured in my stories. If you know the woman in the story, please write to me and the pictures will be taken down — no questions asked.
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The stale air of Megha’s rented studio apartment that she shared with her college friend, Brie, felt as heavy as the weight of the debt that her family was buried under. When Covid delayed her graduation, the student loan she had taken kept bloating.
Living in the US wasn’t easy. It felt like ages ago when Brie and Megha were looking for a shared apartment near the college. Brie’s boyfriend, Erik’s dad owned an apartment near the college. That meant Brie could get to stay rent-free and Megha got a decent apartment for an extremely low rent. Now, as money was running out fast, she had to prioritize food over rent. She had no choice but to talk to Erik about getting his dad to write off the loan, at least till she found a job.
She found her opportunity when Brie went to New York to be with her family for the Christmas holidays. She had asked Erik if they could talk because she needed help and he had come over.
“What’s the matter Meg?” he asked after she had made chai for the both of them, knowing he loved the Indian style ginger-chai over the ‘chai tea’ that was locally sold.
“It’s about the rent,” Megha began, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew she would have to tread carefully, but she also knew she had nothing to lose. “I’m running out of money, Erik. I can’t keep up with the rent. I’m scared I’ll be on the streets soon. You know with Covid delaying the graduation, my student loan has grown and money is running out. Things will be fine once I graduate and get a job, but right now, things are extremely tight.” Megha said and her grip on her mug tightened.
Erik, seated opposite her, leaned forward, his expression softening. “I don’t want you to worry about that, Megs. I got you.”
“Thanks Erik, I don’t know what to say,” Megha started, “I really, really appreciate it.”
“Come on, Megs. We’re friends right? Any friend of Brie is my friend.”
“Of course,” Megha said smiling in relief.
“You know, Megs, Brie thinks the world of you. She can’t stop talking about you – your guts to relocate to another country, your self-reliance, your pride and of course your Indian beauty. On the last one, I can’t argue with Brie.”
“Really? She embarrasses me. I think she is film-star gorgeous. I am just a simple Indian girl.”
Megha laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing. “And thank you, Erik. I am lucky to have a friend like Brie… and of course you too.”
“Don’t mention it Megs,” Erik said patting her leg, “same terms as Brie then?”
“What do you mean same terms?” Megha’s brows furrowed in confusion. She took a sip of her tea, the sweet ginger flavor lingering on her tongue as she waited for Erik to clarify.
Erik chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “Brie didn’t tell you how we got to be a couple?”
Megha shook her head. She had always assumed the two knew each other from before their college days.
“Brie and I knew each other, but we weren’t a thing. But when you two were looking for an apartment, anything close to the college was so expensive, even sharing rent would have been impossible. The market rent of this apartment is about $2,000 per month plus utilities.”
Megha almost choked on her tea – that was four times the rent she was paying. “But how…? I know she doesn’t pay rent and I only pay $500.”
Megha said, the confusion evident in her voice.
Erik grinned, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “Exactly, Megs. You see, Brie and I, we came to this understanding. If she was my girlfriend, I could tell dad he can’t charge rent from my girl.”
“Makes sense,” Megha said smiling and blushing slightly.
“That’s when we started dating. It was a win-win for both of us, wasn’t it?” Erik said, his eyes never leaving Megha.
Megha felt the blood rushing in her ears as understanding dawned on her. She’d heard stories of girls who sold themselves for money, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d be in the same situation.
“You know, you are much prettier than Brie,” Erik continued, his voice low and husky. “I think your parents must have been gods to have created a masterpiece like you.”
Megha felt her body flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
“What are you saying, Erik? You’re asking me to… to sleep with you in exchange for rent?” she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest.
Erik leaned back in his chair, a smug grin playing on his lips. “Don’t be so crass, Megs. It’s not like I’m asking you turn into a prostitute or anything. It’s just a little fun, a little give and take. You get a place to stay, and I get to have a little fun with a hot little Indian goddess.”
Megha’s mind was racing. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
The air in the room seemed to suddenly become too hot, too thick. Megha’s chest felt tight, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You’re asking me to whore myself out just so I can keep a roof over my head?” She spat the words out, her voice laced with anger and disbelief.
Erik chuckled, a low, wicked sound that sent shivers down Megha’s spine. “Don’t be such a prude, Megs. It’s just a little fuck every now and then. You’re not a virgin, are you?” Erik asked, his eyes roaming over Megha’s body, lingering on her breasts.
Megha couldn’t believe what was happening. She was in shock, anger, and yes, a little bit of fear. But there was something else too. A spark of defiance ignited within her. She might be in a shitty situation, but she wasn’t going to just roll over and take it.
“Fuck no, I’m not a virgin,” Megha snapped. “I’m just not a whore either. I won’t fuck you for rent, Erik. Wait till Brie gets here and I tell her. You’re disgusting.”
“Have it your way, Megs,” he said shrugging. He took the last sip of chai, set the cup down and stood up, “dad expects rent to be paid promptly… that would be next week.” Megha’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched Erik walk out, leaving her alone in the apartment. She slammed the door shut behind him, her body trembling with rage. She punched the door, cursing under her breath. “Fucking asshole!”
Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and anger. How dare Erik? How dare he think she was so desperate that she would sell herself for a place to stay?
She thought about calling her parents, telling them everything, but what good would that do? They couldn’t help her, and she didn’t want to worry them.
But as the days passed, and the rent due date loomed closer, Megha found herself in a tough spot. In desperation, she decided to call Erik again and reason with him.
If she could just get a few more days, she was sure she could find a solution.
“Erik, please,” she pleaded over the phone, her voice tight with unshed tears. “You know I’m not like this. I’m just… I’m just desperate. Please, give me till the end of the month. I promise I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
“How?” Erik said calmly, “you are still a student and won’t be graduating for another six months. The student jobs you do barely feed you. Tell me how you plan to come up with the money and I will speak with dad to give you more time.”
“I don’t know yet, but I will figure it out, I promise.” Megha pleaded, her voice wavering.
“You know what, this is not a topic for a phone conversation. Let’s meet and talk.” When Megha hesitated, he continued, “come on Megs, I won’t force myself on you. How about meeting in the cafe below your apartment? My treat.”
Erik suggested, his voice smooth and persuasive.
Megha exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. She couldn’t just let this go. She needed to find a way to make him understand. “Okay, fine. When?”
“I can be there in about 40 minutes if that works for you.”
An hour and a half later, the coffee came and went, but there was no solution in sight. He hadn’t made that obnoxious suggestion. All he wanted to know was how she planned to come up with the money, a reasonable ask. She knew, as a foreign student, her options were limited and she had no way of taking another job…certainly not one that would help her raise $500 in a week.
“Look Megs. Forget what I said the other day for a moment. Come up with another suggestion that would make it worth my while. Dad’s already let go of $1,500. How do I convince him to let two girls live in his apartment rent free?”
Megha thought, her mind racing. The coffee shop was warm, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air, but Megha barely noticed.
“You are right, maybe I should find another place to stay,” she said running out of ideas.
“Really? Where do you plan on finding a place for less than $500? And how do you plan to pay that rent and deposit? Dad didn’t take a deposit from you if you remember.” Erik reminded her, “You’d have to give a month’s rent as security. Where the fuck will you get that kind of money?”
Megha sighed, running her fingers through her hair, tugging at the ends in frustration. She knew Erik was right. But she also knew he was enjoying this, enjoying her desperation.
“Look,” Erik said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t want you to be out on the streets. I don’t want that on my conscience. But I need something in return. Something… substantial.”
Megha could see the hunger in his eyes, the lust lurking just beneath the surface.
“Think about it dispassionately. The only other option for you is prostitution. That’s illegal, unsafe and you would have to sleep with multiple strangers to come up with that kind of money. On the other hand, we are already friends and know each other. Being my second girlfriend isn’t illegal, it’s not unsafe and I won’t hurt you. It could be fun, Megs. Think about it.” Megha’s mind was racing, her heart pounding in her chest. She was running out of time and options. She could either sell herself on the streets, or she could sell herself to Erik. It was a fucked up choice, but it was her only choice.
“Fine, Erik,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You win. I’ll… I’ll be your girlfriend. But only until I find a job.”
A slow, smug smile spread across Erik’s face, his eyes gleaming with triumph and lust. “That’s my girl,” he said, his voice low and husky.
He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing against her soft skin. “You won’t regret this, Megs. I promise.”
Megha felt a shiver run down her spine, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through her veins.
She knew she was playing with fire, but she had no other choice.
“Let’s go up and have some fun.” he said caressing her cheeks.
By the time the elevator reached their floor, her revulsion had given way to a strange excitement, she couldn’t explain.
She was a mixture of fear and desire, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in quick gasps.
Erik wasn’t bad looking. If he wasn’t Brie’s boyfriend, she might even have hit on him.
She felt like she was betraying her friend when they entered the apartment, closed the door and his lips found hers.
She was surprised to find how soft and gentle his lips were, his touch tentative, like he was asking for her permission.
She kissed him back, her lips parting slightly, her body relaxing into the kiss. His hands moved from her face to her back, pulling her closer, his body pressing against hers.
She could feel the hardness of his body, the muscles in his chest, the bulge in his pants. She wondered if this was what Brie felt when they were together. Erik’s hands slipped under her shirt, his palms flat against her skin.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth nipping at her sensitive flesh. She gasped, her eyes fluttering closed, her head falling back.
She felt his hand cup her breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra.
She moaned, her body arching into his touch. She could feel the heat between her legs, the wetness pooling in her panties.
The next thing she knew, they were naked, in her bed and his head was between her legs, his tongue lapping at her folds, his fingers pinching her nipples.
His tongue delved deeper, licking and teasing, tasting and exploring. She could feel the pleasure building inside her, her body tensing, her breath coming in quick gasps.
It didn’t take long. In less than 10 minutes, she was on the brink of an orgasm.
“I’m going to come, Erik,” she warned, her voice breathy.
Erik’s mouth didn’t stop its relentless pursuit, his tongue flicking against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body.
She cried out, her body arching off the bed as the orgasm ripped through her. Erik gripped her hips, holding her in place as he continued to lap at her, milking every last drop of her pleasure.
When she finally came down, she was a trembling, panting mess.
Erik stood up, his cock jutting out, hard and ready. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her towards him, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed, his cock rubbing against her opening. She could feel the wetness of her juices on his cockhead, the sensation sending shivers down her spine.
And then he was in her, filling her, fucking her, enjoying her, his hands squeezing her breasts, his mouth on hers, the taste of her own pussy on his lips. He was rough, but not too rough, his hips slamming against hers with a rhythm that drove her wild. She could feel every inch of him inside her, feel the friction, the heat, the pleasure.
With every thrust, he was picking up the tempo, moaning in pleasure in her mouth. Five minutes later, she felt another orgasm start to build in her. She didn’t want to beg, but she silently wished for him to wait for her, to cum when she came. She was close, so fucking close. She could feel the pressure building, the pleasure coiling in her belly, ready to explode.
Erik was relentless, his cock pounding into her, his body slapping against hers, the bed creaking in protest beneath them. She could feel the sweat dripping from his body onto hers, their skin slick and sliding, their breaths mingling in ragged gasps.
And then she went over the edge, screaming into his mouth, her body convulsing around him as the orgasm tore through her.
“Oh Fuck, Megs,” he groaned, his body tensing, his hips pistoning into her as he came, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside her.
He collapsed on top of her, his body shaking with the force of his release, his cock still twitching inside her, emptying his seed in her depths.
“You on the pill right?” Erik asked, panting, as he pulled out of her, his cock still glistening with her juices.
Megha nodded, her chest heaving, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
“Yes, I am.” She lied, making a mental note to get a ‘morning after’ pill and start taking anti-pregnancy pills.
He grinned, a wicked, satisfied smile that sent a shiver down her spine. “Good. I hate using condoms.”
He fucked her two more times that night and then every day till Brie returned, never using a condom and never pulling out. Not only did he fuck her like a man possessed, he made sure she had multiple orgasms each time.
She even lost her anal virginity to him on Christmas eve because he wanted her virgin ass as his Christmas present
Once Brie returned, the relationship took a new turn when she had to join both of them in bed.
She had hoped it would come to end when she graduated, but she didn’t know that life was training her for the future.
The hospitality industry was among the worst hit during Covid. The massive layoffs had meant a lot of experienced folks looking for jobs. Finding an employer willing to sponsor the work visa for a fresh graduate with no experience was nearly impossible.
Over the past few months, she had applied to 100s of places. She now had just a few months left to find a job and get a work visa.
If she failed, she would be going back to India, buried under the burden of the loan, her parents’ debts and no means to make ends meet. Prestige Grand was pretty much her last hope.
Megha had managed the interview panel flawlessly, reciting policy and projecting confidence with the polished skill of a veteran. But she knew the performance was for show. The decision maker was not the HR manager; it was the man who now sat across from her in a penthouse office overlooking the city.
Kenji Tan, the owner of the Prestige Grand, didn’t look up from the tablet in his hand when Megha was shown in. The office was all sharp angles and blindingly high-end materials—polished steel, onyx, and a panoramic view that seemed to put the entire city under his thumb.
Megha stood perfectly still, letting the silence stretch, acutely aware of how small and vulnerable she was in this vast, powerful space.
Finally, Tan set the tablet down and looked at her. His eyes, though assessing, held no warmth.
“Megha Goyal,” he said, his voice smooth, carrying the low, non-regional accent of someone who spoke multiple languages perfectly. “Your file is excellent. Top of your class. Perfect scores in guest relations simulations. But that is an intern’s file. I hire hundreds of those a year. Why should I invest a substantial sum in visa sponsorship for you?”
Megha didn’t flinch. “Because, Mr. Tan, I don’t see this as an internship. I see it as a life raft. And a drowning person is the hardest worker. Besides, as difficult as it is to find visa sponsors, you are almost assured of my loyalty and continued service.”
He gave a slow, minimal nod. “Good point. But why would I want your loyalty or continued service? What if you are terrible at your job at keeping customers happy? What happens to my investment in your visa then?” He tapped the surface of the desk with an elegant, bored rhythm.
“My clients here—the guests—they don’t care about your student debt or your visa clock. They want perfection. They want problems solved before they even articulate them. They want service that they can never get anywhere else.”
He paused, letting his gaze drop from her eyes to her perfectly tailored suit, a deliberate, slow inspection.
“I need staff who understand what ‘right’ truly means when dealing with people who wield billions.” He pushed a sheaf of papers—her sponsorship documents—a centimeter closer to her.
“I need someone with the right attitude. How can you prove to me that you have what it takes to make even the most demanding customers happy?”
Megha took a steadying breath, her mind racing through the calculations of debt and duty. “I am capable of whatever my job requires, Mr. Tan. Whatever it takes.”
Tan finally smiled—a thin, predatory curve of his lips. “Good. That’s the only acceptable answer at the Prestige Grand. Now, how about you showing me what exactly you are capable of, and how far you will go to make a customer happy.”
The professional veneer evaporated, replaced by the chilling reality of the transaction as he stood and walked around the desk to where she was sitting.
A thick, unwieldy bulge was noticeable in his tailored trousers. “Show me,” he instructed, nodding towards his crotch.
She knew what he meant and reached for his belt. Her hands trembled slightly as she unbuckled it and unzipped his pants. He stood still, watching her with those cold, calculating eyes.
She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, the weight of his expectation. She pushed his pants down, revealing his cock, hard and ready for her. She looked up at him, her eyes seeking his, and he gave her a small nod of approval.
She wrapped her hand around his cock. It wasn’t as big as Erik’s but was already glistening with pre-cum. Clearly, he had been mentally undressing her while he was interviewing her.
Megha leaned forward and opened her mouth, her tongue darting out to lick the head of his cock. Tan groaned, his hands finding their way into her hair, his fingers tangling in the dark locks.
She cupped his balls with one hand and started stroking him with the other as he drove his cock down her throat.
He groaned again, louder this time, and pulled her head closer, forcing her to take more of him. She gagged slightly but didn’t resist. She knew what he wanted, and she was determined to give it to him.
After about five minutes, he pulled out of her and made her stand up. He then turned her around and bent her over the desk.
He pushed her skirt up and pulled her panties down to her knees. He ran his hands over her cheeks, squeezing and spreading them apart as he started rubbing his erection against her pussy.
She heard the rip of plastic as he tore open a condom packet with his teeth and rolled it on. He positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against her wetness, teasing her. Megha bit her lip to stifle a whimper.
She felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But she knew what was expected of her. She had to show him that she could do whatever it took to make a customer happy.
Tan positioned the head of his cock at her entrance and pressed forward, filling her in one swift thrust. She gasped, thanking heavens that he had a smallish pecker. A larger one would have ripped her apart. She could feel the length of him, the thickness, the rock-hard stiffness of his cock as he began to move inside her.
He didn’t start slow, didn’t ease into her. He just started fucking her, hard and fast, his hips slapping against her ass as he pounded into her. She gritted her teeth, trying to adjust to the feeling of him inside her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” he grunted with every thrust, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she knew she’d have bruises later.
Three minutes later, he stiffened, plunged all the way into her and groaned in pleasure as he came. He stayed buried in her for a few seconds, his body shuddering with aftershocks. Then, he pulled out, leaving Megha feeling empty and used.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice smooth and satisfied as he buckled his belt and adjusted his clothes. He turned her around and smacked her ass, hard. “Now get dressed. You’ve got a job.”
Megha nodded, her legs shaking as she pulled up her panties and straightened her skirt. She felt a sense of relief, but also of disgust. She had done what she needed to do, but she still felt dirty. When the door finally closed behind Kenji Tan, Megha was still seated, her hands resting flat on the cool glass desk.
She had the job. The sponsorship papers now had his signature, a sprawling, indifferent authorization that held the entire weight of her future. She had her life raft. She had two months before the papers would be completely processed and she could breathe easy.
She stood up, smoothing down her perfectly tailored suit, a professional mask already firmly in place. But she was a fighter and she would survive, whatever it took. Prestige Grand was not just a promise, but would be the stepping stone to a lifetime of using her body to get a job done.
Megha started work two weeks later. The uniform was crisp, the heels were painful, and the smile she wore was flawless. She moved through the marbled halls of the Prestige Grand like a ghost—efficient, invisible, and essential. The hotel was less a place of rest and more a fortified bubble of excess, a sanctuary where the ultra-wealthy came to escape consequence.
She mastered the art of preemptive service: refilling a glass before the diner looked up, securing a private jet hangar before the client finished their call, and, most importantly, insulating the guests from any inconvenience, no matter how minor.
This was the true meaning of the “customer is always right” policy Kenji Tan had described. It meant that the staff were not just employees; they were highly paid facilitators of every desire, every whim, every flaw of their clientele.
Megha learned quickly that the billionaires she served were often the most demanding and the least grateful. Their requests ranged from merely absurd to aggressively cruel. She watched as a colleague was reduced to tears over a botched bespoke floral arrangement, and another was dismissed entirely for simply making eye contact with a Saudi prince.
To them, the staff were props, objects whose sole purpose was to affirm their own boundless power. Megha, however, was already far beyond judging them. She merely logged their weaknesses, their habits, and their entitlement. They were not people; they were the customers she needed to satisfy, the ecosystem that sustained her visa and her family’s freedom. She was the lifeboat, and she would not tip it over with morality.
And then there was Kenji, waiting in his office for his 15 minute release every Friday evening when her shift ended. She made sure he got his pound of flesh, chalking it down to the demands of a cruel world. ‘Just doing my job’ she would tell herself when she walked out of his off.
After months of navigating the predatory landscape of the Prestige Grand, Megha had settled into a rhythm of ruthless efficiency. She could anticipate a guest’s demand before the words left their mouth, but every day chipped away at her soul. The uniform felt heavier, the smile tighter. She had categorized the hotel’s clientele into various shades of entitlement, none of them redeemable.
Then, Alexander Sterling checked in like a breath of fresh air.
He arrived without the usual fanfare—no entourage, no screaming security detail, and only a single, well-worn leather duffel bag that looked out of place against the marble and gold of the lobby. Alexander was a rarity: a tech entrepreneur who had quietly built an empire in ethical AI and sustainable energy. He wasn’t loud; he was simply present. He possessed the kind of gentle charisma that didn’t seek attention but commanded respect effortlessly.
When he spoke to Megha, he looked her in the eye and used her name, a small courtesy no other guest had offered since she started. Alexander Sterling was tall, with a lean, strong build, light brown hair that always seemed perfectly tousled, and intelligent, warm blue eyes. When he smiled, it was genuine and wide, the kind of smile that made Megha’s cheeks flush and her knees feel suddenly weak, forcing her to suppress the physical reaction lest she break her flawless professional mask.
He was the anomaly. While other guests were imperious, demanding staff drop everything for a trivial whim, Alexander was meticulously considerate. He once apologized sincerely when he accidentally left a room service tray outside his door five minutes past the requested pickup time. He made requests, never demands.
Megha found herself reacting to him differently. For every other guest, her service was a cold calculation—a transaction to ensure her visa was protected. For Alexander, it was a genuine desire for perfection.
She wanted his stay to be flawless, not because of Kenji Tan’s contract, but because he was a good man fighting a hard battle in the corrupting world of the elite.
She began to subtly track his schedule, his preferences, and even his moods, finding a professional satisfaction in shielding him from the slightest inconvenience. He was, she realized, the one person in the whole gilded hotel whose success she genuinely wanted to witness.
One evening, while performing a discreet sweep of his presidential suite floor—a preventative measure to ensure privacy before a major negotiation—she noticed a discarded itinerary. It listed a crucial meeting the next morning and, pinned to it, a small, handwritten note:
Valet informed—blue suit expected by 7 AM.
She looked at her watch 8 PM. SHIT! His valet had clearly failed to register the urgency. Alexander, trying to manage a billion-dollar deal, was preoccupied with a minor logistic detail. Megha acted instantly knowing that the laundry closed in an hour. Within twenty minutes, the suit was retrieved, pressed, and hung perfectly in his closet, a small card reading:
Done and delivered, Mr. Sterling. —M.
The next morning, Alexander looked directly at her in the elevator lobby. He gave her a subtle, knowing nod and a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. “Thank you, Megha, or do you prefer to be called M, the way you signed the note?” he said softly.
Megha went red in the face, “just doing my job, sir,” she said, blushing.
“Just kidding.” he said noticing her discomfort. “You saved my day. Thank you.” He placed his hand on hers in an appreciative gesture and she had to hold on to the desk to keep her legs from buckling under her.
It was the first time she felt a genuine human connection in months, a small reward that outweighed every high-paying, soul-crushing demand from her other clients. But her pleasure was short-lived.
Later that day, when he returned from a meeting, stress was clearly visible on Alexander’s face. He was warm to the staff, but less chatty than before. His head was bowed, and he seemed utterly preoccupied. When he paused at the main desk to retrieve a keycard, he briefly placed his hand over hers on the marble counter—a quick, desperate acknowledgment of their shared secret and a plea for silent support that sent a jolt through Megha.
The weight of Alexander Sterling’s distress grew heavier over the next 48 hours. Megha watched, professionally silent, as the man who radiated such quiet confidence began to unravel. He worked marathon hours in his suite, ordering black coffee at 3 AM and barely touching the elaborate room service dinners. He was meticulously polite, but the shadow of defeat was deepening in his blue eyes.
Late one night, well past midnight, Megha entered his suite for a routine task: discreetly clearing the dinner service and placing the empty plates on her cart. She hadn’t bothered to knock, expecting the expansive room to be empty.
Alexander was not in the dining area. He was standing by the panoramic window, his back to her, silhouetted against the city lights. He was on an urgent, angry phone call. Though he tried to keep his voice low, the edge of pure, desperate defeat in his tone cut through the silence. Megha froze, her heart hammering not from fear of being caught, but from the sudden, profound exposure of his vulnerability.
“Damon, you know the valuation is fair,” he hissed into the phone. “This hostile takeover is unethical! You’re using these patent infringement threats as leverage, and you know it. Give me a weekend. Just 48 hours, or you’ll destroy everything—not just the company, but the technology!” He paused, listening, then his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, laced with betrayal. “You’re going to force a fire sale… you wouldn’t dare.”
Megha heard the finality in the words. Damon Vance was not negotiating; he was executing a financial execution, aiming to seize Alexander’s company and destroy his ethical legacy.
Alexander ended the call with a defeated, shaking hand, his shoulders slumping. Megha moved quietly, picking up the phone he’d been clutching and placing it gently on his bedside table—a silent, non-professional gesture of care.
She pushed the cart away and quietly backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. In the hallway, she pulled out her cell phone, circumventing the standard service channels.
“Presidential Suite Four needs the giant dark chocolate tub, immediately. Comp it—urgent guest necessity,” she whispered into the phone, the unauthorized action a direct breach of protocol but a necessary act of loyalty.
A few minutes later, she returned to the suite with a bellhop, knocking softly before entering the room for the second time. The bellhop placed the heavy, frosted bowl onto the coffee table with a soft thud and departed, leaving Megha and Alexander alone.
Alexander stared at the massive bowl of ice cream, then back at Megha, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t order this,” he murmured.
Megha leaned forward, her professional mask finally cracking under the weight of the moment.
“I know, Mr. Sterling. I heard your phone call,” she admitted, the admission a dizzying rush of panic and resolve. “I apologize for the intrusion, but… sometimes, a problem is so big, only a giant bowl of ice cream can match it. Ice cream solves all problems. I’m just doing my job as well as I can.”
He picked up a spoon and slowly tasted it, the rich cold sweetness making his eyes widen momentarily. He realized his flat, rude delivery, and a look of shame crossed his face.
“You’re right. I apologize, Megha. And this is far too much ice cream for one person. Please,” he gestured to the bowl, “join me.”
Breaking every rule, Megha took a steadying breath, picked up the second spoon from the tray, and slid into the chair opposite him. They shared the ice cream, and slowly, the wall between them crumbled. He was exhausted, and she was vulnerable.
She briefly shared her story—the visa clock, the debt, the desperation that forced her to take the job.
In return, he shared his truth: the decade of work, the ethical mission behind his technology, and the bitter, crushing realization that he was about to lose everything he built to the corporate ruthlessness of Damon Vance.
Megha listened, her heart aching for this man who was fighting so hard to do good in a world where money was the only language spoken.
As the night wore on, they found themselves closer, the ice cream bowl forgotten between them. Alexander’s hand found its way to Megha’s knee, his thumb tracing small, lazy circles on her skin.
She didn’t pull away, instead, she leaned into his touch, her body aching for a connection that went beyond professional courtesy.
Alexander’s eyes met hers, seeking silent permission, and she nodded, her breath hitching as she understood the silent question.
His lips found hers, soft and tentative at first, then more insistent, more demanding.
Megha melted into him, her lips parting to allow his tongue to explore her mouth. She moaned softly, her body pressing closer to his, her breasts aching for his touch.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth nipping at her sensitive skin. Megha gasped, her head falling back, her body arching into his touch.
He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. She moaned, her body pushing against his hands, urging him for more.
Alexander seemed to understand her silent plea and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it onto the floor. He leaned back to take in the sight of her, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, her breasts heaving with each breath. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.
Megha felt a blush spread across her cheeks at the compliment but didn’t have the chance to respond before his mouth was on her again, his tongue licking and sucking at her breasts through the thin lace of her bra. She arched her back, pushing herself further into his mouth, a low groan escaping her lips.
Alexander’s hands moved to her back, unclasping her bra and freeing her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, making her gasp.
She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, urging him on. He moved to her other breast, giving it the same attention, his hands roaming her body, exploring every curve.
He stripped his shirt off, then his pants and underwear with his mouth clasped around her nipples, sucking hungrily.
Megha could feel the heat building between her legs, the wetness pooling in her panties. She wanted him inside her, now. She pushed him back, breaking the contact between his mouth and her breast.
Alexander looked at her, his eyes dark with desire, his chest heaving as she stripped of her remaining clothes. She reached for his cock and pulled him back over her, guiding his hardness to her entrance.
She was so wet, so ready, that he slid in with ease. She moaned as he filled her, her head falling back, her eyes closing. He felt incredible inside her, every inch of him so fucking perfect.
Neither spoke a word, their eyes and bodies doing all the talking. Silently, he started moving in and out of her. Slowly at first, letting her body adjust to him, his eyes never leaving hers.
The connection was intense, their gazes locked as if they were the only two people in the world. Megha’s body began to move in sync with his, their bodies finding their rhythm together.
As their mouths met again, she wanted him to take her hard, fuck her with all he had, claim her and fill her. As if reading her mind, he began to thrust into her faster, harder, his hips slapping against her ass with each move.
She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, urging him on. She could feel the heat building inside her, the pressure mounting, her body tensing in anticipation. She met his thrusts, her hips rising to meet his, their bodies moving as one.
Neither spoke words. The only sounds coming from their mouths were moans, groans and grunts and both their bodies barreled towards a release. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, accompanied by the soft jingle of ice in the bowl on the table.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her down harder on his cock with every thrust, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Aaaaahhhhh maaaa,” Megha screamed, her nails digging deeper into his flesh, her body convulsing as she felt her orgasm rocked her body.
She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his mouth, and he took the cue, sucking harder, his teeth grazing her nipple, sending electric shocks down her spine.
Alexander let out a low growl, his hips moving faster, his cock pounding into her with such force that the bed started to shake.
And then time came to a stop. The frenzied movement turned into a frozen frame, his back arched, his cock all the way into her depth, their faces contorted in pleasure, and their eyes locked in a primal, animalistic stare.
The movement was out of sight as his cock throbbed and pulsed, shooting rivers of cum into her depths. Megha could feel the heat of his semen filling her, a sensation that sent a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through her veins.
She gasped, her body convulsing around him, clutching his cock tightly as she came again, harder than before, milking every drop out of his cock. For the first time since joining Prestige Grand, she had enjoyed doing her job.
The next morning, Megha rose with a sharp, professional clarity she hadn’t felt in weeks. She knew exactly what she had to do.
Alexander sat at the dining table, his shame and gratitude battling across his face. “Megha, about last night… I should never have—”
She cut him off gently. “Last night was a choice, Alexander. But this morning is about business. You can’t let him do this to your company. Let me negotiate with Damon Vance.”
He was skeptical, his eyes full of despair. “Megha, you’re the best service manager I’ve ever met, but Damon Vance is a monster. He eats people like me for breakfast. You can’t possibly—”
“What do you have to lose?” she interrupted, her voice gaining an unstoppable strength. “You’ve already lost the deal, Alexander. Just let me give it a go. I understand how people like Damon Vance operate in a way you never will. I’ve been studying them for months.”
Seeing the icy resolve in her eyes, Alexander finally relented. He picked up his phone, his hand steadying.
“Fine, Megha. Let’s set up the meeting. Let’s find out how far Kenji Tan’s training really goes.” He made the call to Damon Vance’s assistant.
Within minutes, an ominous reply arrived: a meeting was set for the next day at the Vance Tower, the central hub of Damon’s empire.
The elevator doors slid open on the penthouse, revealing an opulent office that was a testament to the wealth and power of its owner. Damon Vance’s office was a grandiose display of wealth and power, with sweeping views of the city skyline that seemed to stretch on forever.
Megha lay naked on the couch, Damon’s cock pounding her pussy while another partner thrust his cock in and out of her mouth. She had the spent cocks of his two other partners in her hands and was stroking them back to life.
She had been in his office for three hours now. Damon had taken her by himself first, fucking and creaming her ass before he called his partners over.
Each of them had emptied a load in the hole of their choice and were now on round two. Damon’s cock was now rock hard again, and he was enjoying the sight of Megha’s sweat-soaked body being used by his partners.
Three hours turned into six and then nice. The four of them fucked her throughout the night, enjoying her body in every imaginable position, individually and together.
Megha was exhausted, her body aching from countless orgasms and the constant fucking by four men.
At around 3 AM, Damon finally pulled out of her, his cock still hard and frustrated. He slapped her ass, leaving a bright red handprint. “You’re one tough little bitch, aren’t you?” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.
Megha turned her head to look at him, her eyes filled with defiance. “I’m just doing my job and I like to do it well.”
“And I admire you for that. Alex is one lucky dude to have someone so dedicated to him and his cause.” He stood up, his cock still glistening with her juices. He walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a folder.
He tossed it onto the couch next to her. “Here are the terms. They’re non-negotiable. Sign and Alex gets to keep his company. It’s that simple.”
She opened the folder and scanned the terms. They were brutal, but her body was a small price to pay.
‘Just doing my job,’ she told herself as she picked up the pen and signed her name at the bottom of the page.
“How did you pull this off?” Alex couldn’t believe what Damon had just told him on the phone call. He had said she drove a hard bargain, but an even more compelling argument.
“Just doing my job sir,” she said shyly.
“Still, how the hell did you succeed when the best negotiators in my office couldn’t and even my begging couldn’t make him budge?”
“Trade secret, sir” she said, a slight smile playing on her lips.
“You are fucking God sent. Unbelievable!” He said laughing as he tossed his phone on the bed and swept her off her feet, spinning her around in a tight embrace.
“I don’t know how to thank you Megha, I owe you everything.” Alex said, still spinning her around.
Megha smiled up at him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Just seeing you happy is thanks enough,” she said, her voice soft and sincere.
“Happy doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel,” Alex said, his voice low and husky.
He looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to do something for you, Megha. Something to show you how much I appreciate you. How much I… want you.”
“I want you too,” Megha whispered, her breath hitching as she felt the heat building between her legs.
When the couple lay in bed, spent and panting a couple hours later, Alex’s spent cock still in Megha’s pussy, he kissed her lovingly before saying, “You know Megha, I never gave it a second thought, I want to tell you a story of what happened during my Himalayan trek a couple years ago.”
“You’ve been to India?” She asked, her eyes twinkling with interest.
“Yes, just once, and fell in love with your country,” Alex replied, smiling at the memory. “The business had taken off, we had seduced funding to go global and wanted to partner with the Government of India. After that deal was sealed, a bunch of us decided to explore the Himalayas.”
“How long were you there? Been to Bangalore? That’s my home town you know.”
“Really? Small world. Of course I’ve been to Bangalore. I have our development and R& teams there. In fact, now that the company is saved, I think I will plan a company all-hands in India, and maybe explore the country more… with you perhaps?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Of course, I’d love to go home with you.” she said, “but you wanted to tell me a Himalayan story?”
Alex smiled, his eyes distant, “ah yes, so we find ourselves in this village where some sage was visiting. They insisted I get his blessings. The guy had such a glow on his face as he smiled and blessed villagers. He just had this peaceful aura. But then he looked at me, and his eyes went dark. He said I would reach a cross-road in a couple of years. If I remember his words, he said something on the lines of a cloud will appear…it will either save me from drought or wash away everything. I believe he was talking about this crisis with Damon.”
“Do you know what my name means Alex?” Megha asked, as Alex stroked her hair.
“No, I don’t. What does it mean?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
“It means ‘cloud’. Maybe the sage wasn’t talking about the crisis, maybe he was talking about me.” She said, giggling.
Alex smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “Maybe, but he was still right. You did shower a lot of you in my mouth tonight didn’t you?” Alex asked, grinning and pulling her closer to him.
Megha chuckled, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Yes, I did. And you seemed to enjoy it,” she replied, her voice playful.
“Heck yeah, I did. And you did save the company too. So what say you keep showing your sweetness for me all our lives?” Alex whispered, his stubble scratching her neck as he spoke.
Megha smiled and turned to face him, her eyes soft and loving. “What are you saying Alex?”
“I didn’t think I would be doing this for a few more years. I don’t even have a ring to do this properly, but Megha Goyal, will you marry me?” he asked, his voice filled with emotion.
Megha’s eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching as she looked at him. “What? Alex, are you serious?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Alex nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. I love you, Megha. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to take care of you, to make you happy, to make you come as many times as I can.”
Megha laughed, tears of joy streaming down her face. “Yes, Alex. A thousand times yes,” Megha whispered, her tears running down her face as she nodded, smiling through her tears.
Alex let out a loud whoop of joy, pulling her closer and kissing her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth as he cradled her face in his hands.
The couple got married in Bangalore, her home town, just after the company all-hands. They honeymooned in the Himalayas, as a tribute to the sage who had foreseen her appearance in his life.
Megha wasn’t just his life partner, but her human insights and simple observations started acting like a rudder guiding his decisions. He started involving her in the business more and she soon started playing an active part in taking the business global. While he focused on improving and diversifying the core solutions, she focused on expansion and taking the business global.
Alex found out the price Megha had paid to save his company a few months after their marriage and was livid. He had assumed that she had somehow managed to appeal to Damon’s better nature, his sense of ethics, or used her charm to convince him to give Alex a break. But the truth was far darker, far more twisted than he could have ever imagined.
His love and respect for his wife and her sacrifice elevated her stature to a whole different level in his eyes. He knew the sage was right. She was his blessing, but he wouldn’t let Damon just get away. He vowed not just to wipe and buy out Damon’s investment in the company, but to destroy him, whatever it took.
Before he did anything rash, he needed to speak with her, thank her, love her. He got into the car and told the driver to take him home. Taking his phone out, he called Megha.
“What are you doing darling?” He said when she answered the call.
“Just doing my job love,” she replied, “all ok?”
“Why are you panting?” he asked hearing her labored breathing.
“Running up the stairs. The elevator is broken in this godforsaken place and I don’t want to be late for the meeting.”
“What meeting?”
“Forgot already? Honey, I am in South Africa, about to get into a meeting to seal the deal for the sustainable energy project here.”
“Oh I completely forgot that was today. Good luck sweetheart. When will you be back home?”
“Tomorrow evening with any luck. Depends on the outcome of the meeting. What’s up?”
“Nothing, just wanted to say I love you… and show you just how much.”
Megha laughed breathlessly. “Love you to honey. Show me tomorrow ok? I better get going now.”
Alex disconnected the call and closed his eyes. He sure was a lucky man to have found such an able life partner.
On the other side of the world, Megha disconnected the call just as the CEO of the company she was negotiating with stiffened and shot his load in her ass.
“Fuck, you are something else,” he groaned collapsing on top of her, “never came across anyone else whose wife would go to this extent to get a deal. You got the deal lady, as long as I get that ass whenever you are in South Africa.”
She smiled, “Just doing my job.”
THE END
SEE HER GALLERY
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