Rohit and Seo-yeon stiffened at the sound of approaching footsteps.
They were trapped in the corner stall of the women's washroom — one wrong move and they'd become the latest scandal in the city's most popular mall.
Not willing to take any chances, Rohit quickly clamped a hand over Seo-yeon's mouth, pressing her gently against the wall. With a sharp gesture, he signaled her to stay quiet. She didn't resist, so he focused on listening, though he kept his hand in place.
From their voices, the newcomers were clearly two mature women, chatting cheerfully about someone they knew.
"Sharma ji is such a fine gentleman. Sometimes I feel so jealous of his wife," said the first woman, the sound of running water following her words.
"Honestly, he treats her so nicely. I wonder why our husbands change after marriage," the second replied. A dull thud and the jingle of bangles followed — probably a purse being set down and makeup being taken out. "But haven't you ever wondered what he does in those rooms? He pays us an insane amount of rent for that."
"Everyone has their secrets," the first woman answered. "Maybe she knows and pretends not to, just to keep his ego happy."
The second woman laughed softly. "So true. If my husband were like him, I wouldn't even mind if he had an affair. Powerful men deserve more women."
Rohit's eyebrows rose. From their conversation, it was clear they were talking about a judge — one who had some secret arrangement to use a flat they jointly owned. The IT department must have tried to raid , but he'd used his influence to push them back.
The worst part? These women seemed related to him, and if the judge was nearby with his wife, catching Rohit and Seo-yeon in this position could turn the matter into a full-blown disaster.
"It's a pity he's bald for his age," the first woman sighed, "or he might be more handsome."
"Who cares? He's powerful," the other replied. "Remember how he handled that Income Tax officer over the phone? The man's face was priceless."
"Poor man," the first woman chuckled darkly. "I told that officer not to mess with us. But no — he wanted to sue. Well, Sharma ji will take care of him and his pathetic case. We'll certainly get our flat back."
The name "Sharma," the bald head, and the judiciary clicked instantly in Rohit's mind. It had to be his friend's father — Kavita Sharma's husband. He wanted to hear more
"Why wouldn't he help us? He's our top—" The second woman was interrupted as the first woman hushed her. "Ssh! Babita, don't forget we're in a public washroom. Some things are better not mentioned everywhere."
At this, Rohit identified the second woman as babita — bold and younger-sounding — while the first remained more conservative and older.
Babita chuckled. "It's been too silent, theres no—" She suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Rohit's ears perked instantly. He didn't need time to figure it out — they had noticed the closed corner stall and were about to investigate.
He glanced at Seo-yoon, meeting her equally fearful gaze. When he pulled his hand away, he noticed her face was flushed red with embarrassment. That was when he realized his other hand had slipped to her waist for balance. At any other time, he would have apologized, but that would have been a waste. There was no time to maintain a formal image in the middle of a crisis.
With a quick hand gesture, he signaled that someone was coming and pointed to the gap beneath the door.
"Trust me, ok?", he whispered.
They exchanged a silent nod. Moving in unison, they crept toward the toilet. Rohit lowered the lid with painstaking care, making sure it wouldn't betray them with a sound. Then he patted his thigh, wordlessly telling her to sit.
She had been cooperative before, but now her expression shifted. For a moment, she looked conflicted and hesitant, yet her resolve soon returned. She turned around and, with careful steps, lowered herself onto his lap.
The moment her ass touched his jeans and felt the outline of his dick, she jerked—but Rohit was quick to act. He grabbed her again, covered her mouth with his hand, and said, "Don't make a noise. One mistake and we'll be caught. Are we clear?"
She nodded, and he released her from his grip, then caught her shoulders for balance. In return, she held onto his legs and adjusted herself on him.
Rohit's situation was far from ideal.
Having her on his lap put uncomfortable pressure on him, especially on his semi-hard dick, which wasn't ready for the sudden incoming weight. He even felt her fingers brush against his dick, from outside his jeans as she tried to steady herself, grinding her ass into his lap in the process.
Had it been another situation, he could have enjoyed it to his heart's content, but now he forced himself to focus on the tapping sound of sandals, which was growing louder.
Tap! Tap!
Shadows approached the stall, the faint tap-tap growing sharper.
Rohit pressed a hand over Seo-yoon's mouth again, lifted his feet off the ground, and gently guided her legs upward so they hung in the air. In a hushed voice, he warned, "They might look under the door. Stay silent."
Meanwhile, Rohit's little brother, already sensitive from the oil, was itching for action. The moment it felt her full weight, it twitched uncontrollably.
Rohit ignored his inner urge to grind against her ass, keeping his attention fixed on maintaining their balance.
Fortunately, the stall was unusually spacious—otherwise, they might have been forced into some ridiculous Spider-Man-style wall-clinging to stay hidden.
Outside, Babita's voice cut through. "I know someone's in there. How much longer will you take?"
Neither Rohit nor Seo-yoon moved. A shadow darkened the gap at the bottom of the stall—someone was bending down to check.
"Looks jammed, Didi. No one here," Babita said.
The other woman's voice was sharper. "Let's not disturb her privacy."
They both laughed and walked away, their sandals tapping against the tiles until the sound faded.
Relief finally washed over Rohit, his breathing slowly syncing with the fading footsteps.
However, the strain in his pants was undeniable—his arousal, stubborn and unyielding, pressed against the fabric as if mocking his attempts at self-control.
The soft warmth of Seo-yoon's curves resting on his lap was maddening, the gentle pressure against him making it harder to focus on the danger outside.
With the strange invulnerability their situation provided, a reckless part of him wanted to savor the moment.
He was certain she felt something too; otherwise, she wouldn't still be sitting here.
But there was a problem.
They had only become friends today. They weren't lovers, and pushing the boundary now could ruin everything. One wrong word, one wrong move, and he could lose the trust of the Korean diplomat's daughter—and that was a risk not worth taking.
Still, a crooked idea crept into Rohit's mind.
He let out a sharp groan. "Ahh!.. We need to get out of here… but my situation's bad. You go first, I'll follow later."
Seo-yoon turned to him, concern flashing in her eyes. "Are you alright?"
He shook his head, feigning intense discomfort.
She quickly stood and stepped out from his lap—only to freeze mid-sentence. "What happ—" She stopped abruptly, her gaze flickering downward to the prominent bulge straining against his jeans.
Her face went crimson. After a hesitant pause, she asked softly, "Do… you need help?"