The ballroom is packed with people. I walked over to the bar which is set up along one of the walls and order a Dry Martini with an olive. A few men look at me and smile, but I ignore them. There is a band playing in one corner and people are dancing, long dresses, short dresses, white, pink, and a lot of black. Men in dark suits or tuxedos, there is cigar smoke in the air and the smell of money, big money.

I see you standing by the bar next to your wife who has her back to me. When you notice me a flicker of a smile crosses your lips set in your hard face, handsome but rough, a rock carved into a man. Your hair is slicked back, looking wet, black and thick. Strong shoulders under the suit, a red tie against a white shirt.

I pick up the olive using the toothpick it’s impaled on. Gently taking hold of it with my teeth I drag it off the little stick while keeping eye contact with you. I hold it between my teeth and then slowly chew on it. You smile again. I ringlet of my black hair has fallen over my eye; I swipe it back in place. My diamond earrings sparkle, the black cocktail dress I wear show the swell of my breasts and is really too short for this kind of party. My stockings are attached to a garter belt and my feet enclosed in four-inch heels.

Your wife says something, you laugh, and I smile. I give you a wink and turn around after finishing my drink.

My hips swing, you stare. I know you do because you always do. Walking down the silent corridor I open the door to a small room used by housekeeping to store fresh linens and cleaning supplies. I leave it open a bit.

A few moments later you come in, closes the door and I melt into your arms.

Lips meet, tongues play, hands explore, you turn me around. I put my hands against the wall. You lift up my dress and sigh when you see the garter belt around my waist and nothing else and then the sound of your zipper, the fumbling with your underwear, and then the hot skin of your cock head against wet lips. I spread my legs, you grope my boobs. With a thrust, you are inside me.

Your arms around my waist pulling me close, heavy breathing in my ear, and I reach for your head pulling you closer. Kisses on my neck and a nibble at my ear, your cock is deep inside me, stretching my lips, making me pant, moan, giggle and even yelp. You let go of my waist and grab my hips, you fuck me harder and I moan louder, my knees go weak, my legs tremble. You moan, I moan, you shoot your load. I gasp and close my eyes while my orgasm rolls over me.

You zip up, I arrange my dress. We kiss, we smile, and you slip out of the door. I lean against the wall, not trusting my legs yet, cum runs down my inner thigh. I giggle and wipe it away with a finger that I lick clean. I walk out into the corridor, a smile on my face.

I touch up my makeup in the bathroom; use some toilet paper to clean more cum that is running down my thigh. I check my look, smile, white teeth, full lips, deep green eyes, in a young and horny face.

Back in the ballroom, I see you at the bar with your wife. I walk up, touch her shoulder and she turns.

“Oh, hi my dear little sister, you made it.”

I peck her cheek, I smile and say, “Yes, I just got here.”