“Rog! Are you in there?”
Both Roger and Suraya recognized Sheridan’s voice calling through the toilet door.
“Naah, he’s not here, let’s go back to the bar,” echoed through the otherwise empty, male-restroom at the One&Only hotel.
Roger is in fact there.
Inside a cubicle.
With Suraya, Sheridan’s wife.
Roger and Suraya had met a couple of times at work functions and they clicked from their first encounter. Suraya was a tall, strikingly beautiful woman, who grew up in Cape Town after she immigrated with her parents from Sri Lanka when she was three years old.
Her long, shiny midnight-black hair draped down to her lower back, exquisitely accentuated by her radiant, golden brown complexion. She had the most alluring smile, much like Julia Roberts, even the upper lip that curled slightly when her mouth spread wide open. Her smile beamed a kind of playfulness, a kind of innocence, and a genuine joy to behold.
Roger adored her beauty and enjoyed being in her presence. Although they never flirted, they shared a naughty bond. Whenever a conversation inadvertently contained even the slightest innuendo, they noticed the other would laugh or giggle or give something away. And they would catch each other's eyes during these moments. Roger would purposely make comments such as, “looks like he had a hard time last night” at which Suraya would snicker while others would be totally oblivious.
Tonight was their brokerage firm’s annual Christmas party, a soiree event attended by all employees and their partners. Roger arrived with Penelope, his long-standing girlfriend of about eleven years. She was an airline pilot and therefore away a lot, and with Roger’s hectic work schedule, their relationship developed into more of a comfortable arrangement, rather than a loving relationship.
Penelope was a hot looker herself. She was the proverbial blonde bombshell. She had shoulder-length, curly blonde hair and a buxom bosom which she loved flaunting with low neckline dresses that clung to her tits. And hips. And ass. She was a sex maniac and could fuck Roger to within an inch of his life. She enjoyed riding him, reverse cowgirl being her favourite position. She would tease him with her sexy ass-view and every now and then, would even mount his dick in her ass and buck backward onto his cock until his cum squirted into her. She was wild and free-spirited, but also very committed to her career. When she worked, it was at full capacity. Whether she partied, cooked, fucked, or whatever else she would engage in, it would be done at full tilt.
Tonight was no different. Penelope had already gulped down more than five or six glasses of champagne and was at the bar doing shooters with some people she knew. She had also become rowdy in her demeanor, to the delight of the men in the group, who hung on her every word. He saw how some guys were ogling at her tits, as they fought to burst out of her low neckline. She loved the attention and would dip down to adjust her stiletto heel-strap, then look up to meet their lustful eyes.
She really got off on that sort of thing and Roger did not mind her, as he knew that when she ‘let her hair down’, she could become a tad slutty and flirt with everyone. She would not pursue anything though, and Roger trusted that she did not fuck around. He also enjoyed watching her become a slutty tease, knowing he would get to fuck her later when she was all worked up from all the attention. It did make her so very horny.
Roger was doing exactly that. Keeping an eye on Penelope over at the bar while he was chatting to Sheridan, his line manager, and a group of colleagues and their partners. Suraya was standing next to her husband, looking like a regal supermodel, wearing a dark-crimson evening dress that draped down to the floor. Her hair had been sculpted into a beehive-type crown, creating the illusion of being even taller than she already was. Pearls adorned her shiny black hair and shone like stars against the dark heavenly background.
Roger reckoned she was the perfect combination between Iman and Priyanka Chopra. Her velvet dress adorned her lanky frame, and when she turned around to place her glass down at one point, Roger caught a glimpse of how the dress fabric clung tightly to her shapely derriere. Roger stared, ever so slightly too long, and Suraya’s eyes met his as she turned around.
She knew he was staring at her ass, one corner of her luscious red lips lifted slightly in a private smirk. And then a quick wink at Roger before she eloquently turned back to Sheridan and re-joined the conversation. They were talking about some of their key account clients and the returns they were able to generate for them. Boring shit really but inevitable at these types of functions.
“And you Roger? How big is your, uhmm, portfolio?” Suraya suddenly asked, directing the question to him. Roger smiled as he answered about a client, who they then discussed, but their eyes met again and Roger shook as he giggled quietly. Suraya noticed.
They were seated at the same table for the dinner service. A feast of steaks, lobsters, and a host of delicious delicacies was served. The sound of chattering, cutlery, and glasses clinking, and the jazzy background music from the band filled the banquet hall. Roger was not saying much as Penelope was in top gear, leading the conversations at the table. She had the men’s (and some women’s) undivided attention. Except for Suraya.
‘She does not just sit,’ thought Roger, ‘it’s more like she's regally occupying that chair.’
With her back straight and shoulders pulled back, only her large breasts heaved gently when she breathed. When she ate, she would bring a tiny morsel of food up to her mouth which was daintily pulled off the fork with her teeth. Her lips formed a luscious pout once she closed her mouth. Roger would catch himself staring at her and then quickly look away, or across over her shoulder when her eyes would meet his. She caught his stares more often than not.
He believed she was probably the sexiest diner he had ever witnessed and could watch her all night.
He imagined her blindfolded face in front of him, feeding her plump grapes across those luscious lips. How he’d hold it against her bottom lip, for the first touch. Her curious tongue sliding out over it and swishing lightly against it before her lips would envelope the entire fruit.
‘Jeezus dude, where is your head at?’ Roger’s sound mind had cut through the spontaneous fantasy and he caught himself staring into space. Into her space.
‘Shit, I’ve been staring at her again,’ he panicked and turned away quickly, mumbling something to Penelope about the dinner.
Suraya though was acutely aware of Roger’s gazes, and that last stare. That look, was different than before, she thought to herself without giving anything away. She continued eating, only smiling every now and then at whatever was being discussed at the table. When she was done, she patted her lips with the napkin and took a sip of her champagne. As she brought the wide-rim glass up to her lips, she peered over her hand. Right at Roger, who was again caught staring at her.
He was observing how her lips parted, and the way her bottom lip gently pressed against the rim. Suraya reciprocated his stare, holding the pose as she sipped her drink slowly. Her piercing, green eyes narrowed as she intently looked at him. He blinked slowly, smiled sheepishly, and dropped his head to look down, suddenly feeling like a naughty boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His shoulders shook as he snickered to himself, but when he brought his head back up, Suraya was still staring at him. She pouted her lips and mouthed, “Tut-tut-tut,” at him while shaking her head, inconspicuously mock-scolding him. He took immense pleasure from her response. Perhaps too much, because he laughed out loud suddenly, and realised this when Penelope confusingly asked him what is so funny.
“Oh, I am just having a good time”, he quickly replied, laughing it off. He also glanced up at Suraya, whose head was now shaking discreetly as she snickered at him.
“Please excuse me,” Roger announced to the table, “I’m just going to the loo,” and he made his way to the men’s restroom. While walking there, his thoughts were about Suraya’s discreet exchanges with him.
‘She’s playing with fire,’ he thought and chuckled to himself about how silly he felt even thinking about her in this way.
When he arrived at the men’s commode, a group of rowdy guys came out of the restroom, giving him high fives and fist pumps as they made their way back to the bar. Their party was clearly in full swing now, and he chuckled at their raucousness as they left. Roger walked up to a urinal, unzipped his trousers and pulled out his dick. He’d been holding it in for a while and his eyes closed as he lifted his head with the emptying relief on his bladder.
He did not hear the door open, but when he was shaking off his last droplets, he suddenly sensed someone behind him. He glanced back over his shoulder and was shocked to see Suraya standing behind him. Before he could do or say anything, she stepped up against his back, feeling her breasts push into him when her hands wrapped around his waist. And gripped his cock with both hands. Roger froze.
He looked down at Suraya’s hands on his dick. He felt one hand enveloped around the base and the other pulling his foreskin back and circling his glans with her index finger. His cock instantaneously reacted, jolting in her hand as he felt the lifeblood surge into his loins. He reached back with his one hand and grabbed her ass to pull her closer to him. She leaned into his neck, her hot breath in his ear…
“I want this cock, in my mouth” she announced her seductive demand.
Roger was swelling in her hands. Suraya’s one hand was stroking up and down his shaft, the other tickling just under his frenulum with her nails. What felt like an eternity, was abruptly halted as Roger came to his senses. He swung around with his semi-raised cock pointing at Suraya, grabbed her arm, and piled both of them into one of the cubicles. And locked the door.
“Are you crazy?” he whispered, “what if anyone comes in here? What if Sheridan comes in here?”
But Suraya did not answer him. She was smiling, looking down at his undone trousers and the cock dangling from them. She sat down on the toilet seat, looking up at Roger while she wriggled his pants further down. Roger absorbedly watched her, in a near dreamlike state. He just stood there, frozen, witnessing Suraya’s mouth mount his throbbing member. Her hands moved around his hips onto his buttocks, which she squeezed forcefully as her nails dug into him. Up and down, her striking red lips bulged around his girth, she mouth-fucked his aching prick. Roger threw his head back and groaned loudly, only to feel Suraya’s one hand slap his butt as if to say, ‘Be quiet!’
His cock stiffened rapidly in her warm mouth, and Roger caressed her cheek softly. He ran his hand to the back of her neck, gripped her tightly, and pulled himself deeper into her. She took all of him down her throat and swirled her tongue expertly around his swollen head when she pulled his cock back. He could feel himself moving closer and closer to his orgasm, but also did not want this to end yet, and hauled his throbbing cock from her mouth. The hand around her neck pulled her into his kiss, his lustful tongue forced into her wet mouth. She tasted like champagne and the slick pre-cum from his dick swirled around their tongues.
Without saying a word, he pulled Suraya up from the toilet seat, kissed her again, and then turned her around, pushing her forward to lean over the cistern. His hands caressed her back through the soft velvet dress, running down to her shapely bum, and squeezed it firmly. She moaned softly and turned her head back over her one shoulder to look at him.
“Goddamn, Raya, you are a fucking goddess,” he uttered when he started lifting her dress, wriggling the skin-wrapping material over her hips to expose her tantalising tush. He gulped, and a cock-spasm jittered through him again at the sight of her white-lace thong, distinctively contrasted against the caramel skin colour of her shapely backside. It was more picture-perfect than he had ever imagined it could be. Perfectly rounded buttocks, with the sliver of white material disappearing between her cheeks, and a small patch highlighting her covered pussy. It stuck to her mound tightly and he could see the outline of her slit as the silky white material pressed into her.
“You are more beautiful, no, sexier, than I could have imagined,” he moaned softly while his hands caressed her firm booty.