Yana, being very sensible, didn't press further. Yasmin was obviously intoxicated—her words were incoherent and her voice slightly slurred. When she had returned from the toilet monts earlier, she had been staggering and nearly bumped into soone.
After Ryan finished the call, he said softly, "Teacher Yasmin, you're drunk. Let's go to rest!"
"I'm not drunk, I can still drink!" she insisted.
"Okay, I'll order so wine to be sent to the room."
Yasmin appeared determined to drink herself into oblivion, so Ryan quickly helped her out of the restaurant. Tina accompanied her to the elevator and asked softly, "Do you need help?"
Ryan took the room card she handed him and said with a smile, "No need, I can do it myself."
As he accepted it, her delicate fingers grazed his palm, sending a tingling sensation through him—a clear hint of teasing.
Tina, the manager also glanced at the drunken young lady with seductive eyes and remarked ambiguously, "Mr. Ryan, this is a room with a big bed for you. I think you should have a pleasant night."
In the past, Ryan would have felt sowhat embarrassed by such teasing, but now he patted her on the butt and replied with a lewd smile, "Thank you very much. When can I have a pleasant night with Manager Tina?"
"Deal with her first."
Tina smiled even more charmingly and coquettishly added, "Mr. Ryan, I usually get off work at this ti. Goodbye."
Yasmin was completely drunk; her eyes were blurry, and though she didn't fall, she needed Ryan's support to walk.
Ryan went downstairs, found the room, inserted the card, turned on the power, closed the door, and carried her to the bed. He was sweating from exhaustion.
Yasmin wasn't fat, but a woman with such large breasts was definitely not thin. She was the type who was slightly plump and soft all over—especially pleasant to hug.
In contrast, if a woman had large breasts yet was extrely thin with a narrow waist, the proportions would appear distorted and odd.
Rooms in five-star hotels are all equipped with refrigerators. In this upgraded luxury suite with a living room, the refrigerator was fully stocked with drinks and beer; if they ran out, 24-hour room service was available.
Ryan, sweating profusely, opened a bottle of cold beer, took a big gulp, and then drew the curtains. Looking back, he saw Yasmin staggering into the bathroom. Without even closing the door, he heard a loud noise—clearly the sound of vomiting.
He imdiately went over, stroking her back and asking with concern, "Teacher Yasmin, do you need help?"
Lying on the toilet, Yasmin was vomiting and waving her hands. After a long bout, she finally regained her breath and weakly said, "Get out, my clothes are dirty. I need to wash them."
Ryan had initially thought it might be better if they showered together, but in the end, he had the desire yet lacked the courage. Reluctantly, he left the bathroom. It was his first ti staying in a hotel—previously, he had only lodged in small, simple street inns.
Now, he was curious about the anities. He began adjusting the temperature, wind speed, and exhaust in the room while examining the items on the table. He even looked at the room service sign and was pleasantly surprised to see the laundry service.
Rolling his eyes, Ryan finished his call, then walked into the bathroom with a lewd smile and knocked on the door.
"What are you doing?!"
Yasmin appeared sowhat panicked.
Softly, Ryan said, "Teacher Yasmin, you vomited on your clothes. You can't wash them clean by yourself. If you don't dry them, you won't be able to wear them tomorrow. Take out your clothes—I'll ask room service to wash them."
"Good!" ca her response.
After a long silence, the door lock opened slightly, revealing a narrow gap. Her fair arms, covered with water droplets, erged as she retrieved her dirty skirt with trembling hands.
Ryan placed it in the laundry basket and said reluctantly, "Where's the underwear?"
"Underwear—I, I wash them myself!" she stamred.
The door closed again, and Ryan felt a little dejected as he saw her actions. His own clothes, having beco slly after his recent escapade with Yana and profuse sweating, had already been removed and tossed into the basket.
Following Yasmin's example, she hid behind the door—exposing her naked backside—and handed the clothes basket to the hotel cleaner who arrived to collect the laundry.
Ryan adjusted the lights in the room. They weren't very bright, yet everything was clearly visible; the dim lighting cast an ambiguous atmosphere. The wait seed like an eternity, and when the sound of the bathroom door opening finally ca, it was like music from heaven.
The beautiful Yasmin erged from the bath, her hair tied up with a few water droplets clinging to it, and her burgundy face displaying a hint of freshness and charm.
She wrapped herself tightly in the large bathrobe provided by the hotel and, with a touch of embarrassnt, hung her freshly washed underwear on the air vent of the air conditioner. It was black and of a very plain, ordinary style—a reflection of her conservative personality.
"You, go wash yourself too..." Ryan's words trailed off.
Facing his lustful gaze, Yasmin kept her head down the entire ti and didn't dare to look up; even her ears turned red. How could she possibly dare to et the eyes of the naked student standing before her?
"Teacher, the water is already on the table for you. Here's so soup to help you sober up," Ryan said, putting out his cigarette as he hurried into the bathroom and began washing himself without even closing the door.
His eager deanor made Yasmin burst into laughter. Originally, the mont might have been sowhat dismal, but considering that the target was such a young and handso man, it hardly felt like a disadvantage.
Especially after stealing a glance earlier, she was surprised at how well-proportioned Ryan was.
From the outside, he appeared thin and inconspicuous, yet once he removed his clothes, it was clear that he had well-developed pectoral muscles—and presumably defined abdominal muscles as well.
His body was very well-proportioned, his figure rivaling that of a model.
It seed that she was not losing money at all—she had even made so profit. A little intoxicated, Yasmin couldn't help but laugh at the situation.
anwhile, Ryan was burning with desire; not even cold water could cool him down. He simply washed himself casually, grabbed a large towel, and roughly wiped his body.
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