Nanoha Mizuno, a strong-willed new employee who joined this year, always takes a commanding attitude, constantly accusing others of sexual or power harassment with remarks like "Don't call me with honorifics" and "Don't touch my shoulder." No matter how hard I try to communicate, I can't figure out how to approach her—does she actually hate me? During a business trip to a regional branch, I was assigned to travel with Nanoha, and I left the accommodation arrangements to her. Despite warning her, "Did you confirm the reservation? It'd be a problem if we ended up sharing a room," she confidently insisted, "It's fine! I booked it online, so everything's perfect." After successfully finishing our negotiations, we arrived at the hotel only to discover there was just one room reserved, and all others were fully booked—forcing us to share. This was problematic, but unavoidable. Alone together in the hotel room, rationality slipped away. Unable to hold back, I pushed Nanoha down. Her young, soft skin, her pliable, squeezable breasts, and her tight pussy—overwhelmed by it all, I lost control. After it was over, I came to my senses to find Nanoha crying. What had I done? But then she whispered, "I'm sorry... it's not that. I'm just confused... I never knew sex could feel this good." From what she told me, her past relationship hadn't worked out—her boyfriend was terrible in bed, selfish and unskilled. This experience, by comparison, was by far the most pleasurable she'd ever had. Then she asked softly, "Um... could you do it again?" How could I possibly refuse such a request? Despite not feeling old, I spent the entire night pounding her relentlessly, again and again, until morning.