, pausing for a moment, Nathan Moore grabbed his phone and called his assistant Ewan Zimmerman.
"Director Moore, what’s up?" Ewan Zimmerman climbed off his wife, drenched in sweat, still basking in the bliss of newlywed life, and just returned from a business trip with his boss, somewhat reluctantly awakened by the ringing of his phone.
"What’s your ID number?" Nathan Moore went straight to the point.
Ewan Zimmerman was taken aback, thinking he had heard wrong, "What did you say, Director Moore?"
"Oh, I’ll send it to you right now."
Nathan Moore used his assistant’s ID number to register on a website, added some credits, and opened up a provocative scene from a Western movie. The woman in the film had very pale skin, much like Titus Zane’s, and the men were tall and muscular, also not to be underestimated.
Subconsciously, Nathan Moore glanced down at his own groin area, his erection was also sizable.
Watching the man in the movie switching through various positions, Nathan Moore suddenly realized, it seemed... it was really his own... lack of knowledge. There were so many positions for doing this, observing the fierce thrusts and the woman’s unrestrained moaning, and finally trembling under the man, Nathan Moore understood that not only men could climax, but women could too.
Nathan Moore began to genuinely doubt his own skills.
After watching movies for most of the night, Nathan Moore felt he had nearly unlocked all there was to know about it.
The next day, in the president’s office, the secretary brewed coffee and, after leaving and shutting the door, couldn’t help muttering to herself, "What’s with the President today, drinking three cups of coffee so early in the morning?"
Assistant Ewan Zimmerman came in to deliver some documents and curiously asked, "Director Moore, you asked for the ID number last night, are you applying for some documents?"
"Hmm," Nathan Moore responded faintly, keeping a stern face, and Ewan Zimmerman didn’t dare ask any further, placing the documents down quickly and leaving.
Titus Zane booked a flight back to Paris two days later.
Perhaps it’s an indissoluble bond with T.
The next morning, upon opening his eyes and seeing the man sleeping next to him, Titus Zane screamed in shock.
"What are you yelling about so early in the morning, can’t you let people sleep?"
Jon turned over, facing Titus Zane, picking at his ear with an expression of slight impatience.
"Get up!" Seeing it was Jon, Titus Zane was no longer scared, and kicked him, "How did you get into my room!"
"Please, let me sleep a bit," Jon frowned, pleading, "Came back in the middle of the night and haven’t even slept two hours before you woke me up."
So it’s still her fault?
In the middle of the night, entering her room without permission, and she hasn’t even confronted him about it yet!
Getting out of bed, she sat in the armchair and picked up the room phone.
"Excuse me, can you call for service?"
"Hey, what are you doing!" Jon jumped up from the bed, no longer complaining about lack of sleep, and barefooted, hurried in front of Titus Zane, snatched the phone from her hand, and spoke into the receiver with a laugh, "Sorry, my wife has somnambulism, she was just dreaming."
"Tell me, how did you sneak into my room." Titus Zane was unusually serious, eager for a peaceful sleep, not wanting a man to sneak into her room.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a bad person, or the consequences would be terrifying to even think about.
Putting down the room phone, Jon spread his hands innocently and scratched his forehead, saying, "When I arrived, I just gave the receptionist a few charming glances, then... mentioned that my wife was staying here, and she helped me open the door."
Felt increasingly that this Jon was unreliable.