Chapter 2 — Han Soo-jin's Choice - 1 (2)

When Jenny Han and Sarah Yoo arrived at the insurance company's training center, the session had already begun.

Jenny Han followed behind Sarah Yoo, quietly opening the back door, bending her waist awkwardly to muffle her footsteps as she crept inside.

She slipped into the very last seat at the back of the lecture hall and lifted her head slightly, wondering who the instructor would be today.

It was the branch manager.

Daniel Park, the man in charge of the sales office, looked unremarkable at first glance—mid-thirties, unimpressive at a glance—but always wore a cheerful, ever-present smile that suggested a pleasant disposition.

From the very first day Jenny Han had come into the office, Daniel Park had approached her with unusual kindness, going out of his way to teach her the ropes and showing clear interest.

Jenny Han didn't mind his attentiveness.

As she took notes during lectures, Daniel Park would occasionally come up behind her, lean forward, and point at her notebook—his chest brushing against her shoulder in a gesture that felt almost like an embrace.

At first, Jenny Han froze, feeling the warmth of his body. But she quickly dismissed it—It's nothing, really. It could happen to anyone.

Yet gradually, those small touches grew bolder. Lately, his chest pressed firmly against the side of her breast as he leaned in.

And strangely, Jenny Han, bit by bit, grew accustomed to his gentle contact. Without realizing it, she began to feel a strange, illicit excitement.

Her eyes met Daniel Park's.

He smiled warmly, flashing her a subtle, knowing grin—one that they shared.

Jenny Han smiled back.

After thirty minutes, the lecture ended.

"Alright, take a ten-minute break. If you need to use the restroom, please go now."

At his words, the women either stayed in their seats to fix their makeup or filed out to use the restroom.

Sarah Yoo, seated beside Jenny Han, excused herself and left.

Daniel Park approached Jenny Han's seat with a friendly expression, stepping closer as she sat primly with her knees pressed together.

"Hello, Jenny Han. How did that last insurance matter turn out?"

He feigned ignorance, though he'd already confirmed by phone that the director—a friend of his—had taken out two policies under her name.

"Oh, Manager, thank you. I really appreciate it."

Jenny Han smiled back, rising slightly from her seat with a polite bow.

As she did, a sticky, lingering wetness from that morning's untouched arousal seeped from her groin, sending a quiet pulse through her body.

I really need to go to the restroom and clean up, she thought.

"That director friend of mine said he was smitten with your beauty. Haha!"

"You flatter me, Manager."

Jenny Han blushed, lowering her eyes shyly.

"By the way, Jenny Han, do you have time later?"

"Time?"

Jenny Han hesitated, distracted by the persistent dampness between her legs.

"I'd like to introduce you to some clients for new policies. This time, there are quite a few. How about we have lunch together?"

Jenny Han remembered—tomorrow was her wedding anniversary.

This afternoon, she had planned to go shopping for ingredients to cook a special meal for her husband.

"I don't think I can."

"Oh? Then what about the insurance referrals? I suppose I'll have to pass them to someone else."

"Um..."

Last time, she'd secured policies through clients Daniel Park had recommended.

With just a word from him, nearly anything seemed possible.

She didn't want to miss this chance.

Just as Jenny Han opened her mouth to respond, a group of women poured back into the lecture hall.

Daniel Park's expression hardened. He slowly stepped away.

She was trapped.

"If I don't land these policies, my bonus will suffer."

Jenny Han sighed deeply as she watched him leave the room.

But she couldn't sit here any longer.

A steady trickle of mingled fluids—leftover semen and arousal—oozed from her lower body, leaving her thighs damp and sticky.

"Oh my! Was that Daniel Park again? What did he say? Trying to nurture you?"

Sarah Yoo had returned and plopped down beside her, giggling knowingly.

"What are you talking about? Nurture?"

"You know exactly what I mean. You don't think he likes you?"

"Daniel Park?"

"Yes. Didn't you say he gave you referrals last time? You admitted it yourself."

"Well..."

"And didn't he just invite you to lunch?"

"He did, yes."

"Exactly. Go for it. They say Daniel Park's a low-key millionaire with smooth manners. He treats women well."

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing. Hehe. Don't play innocent."

"Oh! I almost forgot."

"What?"

"The restroom!"

Even as the next instructor entered the lecture hall, Jenny Han stood and hurried into the corridor.

She was beginning to feel the urge to urinate.

Walking briskly, she left the classroom and rushed down the hall to the restroom tucked in a secluded corner.

Just as Jenny Han stepped inside, Daniel Park—standing at the opposite end of the corridor, cigarette in mouth, staring out the window with a sour expression—turned and saw her enter.

He glanced around—no one was in sight.

Daniel Park inhaled deeply, the smoke burning into his lungs. Then he ground the cigarette out in the trash can's ashtray.

He was torn. How incredible it would be to have a woman as beautiful as Jenny Han.

Would even someone so elegant shudder in disgust during sex?

Damn it.

The image of her slender waist and soft hips flickered in his mind, sending a sharp wave of lust burning through his mouth and throat.

Forget it. Even if I'm humiliated, I'm going to try.

Inside, the restroom was empty—spotless and quiet.

Jenny Han quickly entered a stall, lifted her skirt, and pulled down both her pantyhose and panties in one motion, settling onto the toilet.

An anxious thought crept in—When will my husband bring home money again?

A sigh escaped her lips.

For now, she had no choice but to support herself through insurance.

She recalled the way Daniel Park had smiled at her.

Fine. If he smiles, I'll smile back. That's all.

And if he asked her to lunch again, she'd say yes.

With the restroom so secluded and seemingly empty, Jenny Han relaxed—more than usual—and let herself go.

The sound of water flushing echoed loudly.

She tore off a strip of toilet paper, pressed it to her vulva, and wiped firmly.

But her sex still felt damp, unclean.

This won't do.

She decided to wash herself properly.

She would clean her groin and change into fresh underwear.

Luckily, no one was here.

She rolled up her soiled pantyhose and panties, stuffing them into her handbag.

Wanting to dry off quickly, she stepped out of the stall—completely bare beneath her skirt.

She walked to the sink, where a large mirror covered one wall, and turned on the faucet.

Cool water gushed out.

She dampened her handkerchief, then lifted her skirt, tucking part of the hem into her waistband to keep it up.

Her bare, delicate buttocks were fully exposed.

That was when she heard it—the restroom door opening.

Assuming it was another woman, Jenny Han didn't turn around.

It was Daniel Park.

He peered cautiously from the entrance, making sure no one was inside.

Hearing only the sound of running water, he twisted the doorknob and locked the door behind him.

He stepped in, saw Jenny Han alone, washing her hands.

He approached silently from behind.

Jenny Han sensed movement but assumed it was a woman. She finished washing, reached for her handkerchief to dry her hands.

"Ah!"

She gasped as she felt arms wrap tightly around her shoulders.

Thinking it was Sarah Yoo, she turned—and froze.

Daniel Park had crept up behind her and was now embracing her from behind.

"Ah! M-Mr. Manager!"

Her tongue stiffened with shock.

"Jenny Han."

Jenny Han? He was using casual speech—talking down to her.

His arm around her waist tightened fiercely.

Jenny Han suddenly remembered—this was the women's restroom. Men weren't allowed. Then why was he here?

Goosebumps rose on her arms.

"Manager... you shouldn't do this."

She brought both hands to her waist, trying to push his arm away.

"Jenny Han!"

Daniel Park pressed his face against her cheek, searching for her lips.

His breath was hot.

Jenny Han quickly turned her head.

Maybe he just made a mistake. Maybe he didn't realize this was the women's restroom.

Even if his familiarity had gone too far, surely he'd leave once he realized.

If he did anything more inappropriate, she'd push him away and leave.

But then he spoke—and her resolve crumbled.

"I was thinking of introducing you to five new clients today. If you close them, your bonus could easily exceed a hundred thousand."

A hundred thousand?

Jenny Han's mind raced. That amount could cover our living expenses for a while.

But only if she stayed in his good graces.

"Haa..."

She exhaled deeply, torn.

Fine. Just this once. I'll endure it.

She decided. Daniel Park didn't seem like the type to demand her body outright—no crude advances.

Besides, if he just touches me a little... no one's watching.

She didn't intend to give him her body.

But already, she could feel it through her buttocks—the sensation different now, heavier.

It was his erection.

Her heart began to pound.

"You're trembling."

Daniel Park had expected resistance, but her timid reaction emboldened him.

"Jenny Han."

His left arm remained around her waist as his right hand slid down, caressing her hip beneath her skirt and groping one side of her buttock.

Her waist and hips were firm and flawless under his palm—perfectly toned. He inhaled sharply.

Seeing no resistance, he relaxed, saliva pooling in his mouth.

Jenny Han jolted.

He was definitely trying to molest her—right here in the restroom.

But she steeled herself. It'll end with just some touching.

She braced herself, feeling his hands knead both buttocks.

Just a little longer. Someone will come in. Then he'll stop.

She twisted slightly, afraid his hand would go lower.

"Let go, Manager. This is the women's restroom."

"Let go? I'm doing this because I like you."

Daniel Park burned with desire, his body and mind aflame at the thought of possessing such a beautiful woman.

He brought his lips to her nape, extended his tongue, and licked gently.

"A..."

The hot flick of his tongue against her neck was completely unexpected.

"That's not allowed."

She let out a soft moan. Her neck was a sensitive erogenous zone—one she couldn't control when aroused.

Daniel Park hadn't expected that reaction.

So that's it. Then...

"Hmph."

He pressed his lips to her neck and blew hot breath into her ear.

"No... don't do this."

Just as he thought—she was responding.

His tongue darted out, licking her earlobe.

"Hnngh... you shouldn't do this."

A shiver ran through her body.

The arm around her waist loosened slightly.

His hand slid lower, down her buttocks.

"No—!"

Jenny Han screamed reflexively as she realized—he was lifting her skirt.

She was naked underneath.

"No! Please!"

Daniel Park hadn't expected her to be bare.

His rigid member throbbed, on the verge of exploding from excitement.

Jenny Han stiffened—like a secret she must never reveal had just been exposed.

Daniel Park seized the moment, frantically groping her bare flesh.

"No—please!"

"Do you always go without panties?"

"No... no, I don't!"

His fingers plunged into the valley between her buttocks.

"Hnngh... Manager, please..."

This was a place even her college boyfriends—men she'd dated seriously—had never touched.

Back then, even after late-night dates, she'd only allowed them to grope her breasts over her blouse.

Never had she let anyone touch beneath her panties.

But now was different. Now, Jenny Han knew sex.

She felt Daniel Park had crossed the line she'd set.

But his fingers had already touched her most private place once.

She decided—she'd allow him to touch her sex, and nothing more.

If she pushed him away now, she'd only lose.

For her livelihood, for the sake of her insurance work, pleasing Daniel Park—even a little—was essential.

His fingers continued parting her moist, glistening lips.

Arousal made them slick and slippery.

Unconsciously, Jenny Han began to feel a quiet thrill.

His middle finger found her clitoris and rubbed it gently.

His hot lips and tongue continued lapping at her neck.

"Ah! Please... don't do this."

She told herself to resist, but the way he licked her most sensitive spot—the neck—sent her spiraling into a pleasure unlike anything she'd felt with her husband.

Slowly, she began to cross and uncross her legs.

His fingers, probing deeper between her buttocks, suddenly cupped her wet, dripping folds and rubbed them firmly.

Then, his middle finger pushed into the entrance of her slit.

"Hah! Manager... please, please stop!"

A sudden, overwhelming wave of pleasure burst through her like a dam breaking.

She couldn't scream properly—instead, she moaned into his touch, her body reacting with soft, involuntary whimpers.

If she screamed, people would come rushing in—only to find her tangled with him.

And she wasn't wearing panties.

She might end up more humiliated than he would.

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