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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Rachel rushed breathlessly down the opulent corridor, her bare feet padding on the luxurious, cold marble. The fingers of her left hand were looped through the straps of her four-inch stilettos and her right hand grasped her matching clutch bag. She panted for air, her ample bosom heaving underneath her low-cut embroidered gown and tight corsets. The pearl thong she was wearing bumped rhythmically over her clit with each stride she took - the intense pleasure this was giving her almost made up for the burning sensation in her lungs brought on by her desperate attempts to make it to the ball in time for the last dance. It crossed her mind that the hot mess being churned up between her thighs by this exquisitely decadent item of lingerie might be noticeable to her fellow guests when she arrived, but she didn't really care. Pheromones are an aphrodisiac, after all.
Finally, reaching the heavy wooden doors of the ballroom, she quickly slipped her tottering heels on to her dainty pedicured feet and adjusted her costume mask. Black with red feathers , it contrasted wildly with her deep hazel eyes and long, dark lashes. Rachel's heart thumped in her tightly bound chest as she pushed the door open. She was greeted by the strains of silky smooth orchestral music, and a sea of masked faces. Most were dancing, but others were stood on the sidelines chatting, eating or simply taking in the scene. Rachel was struck by the abundance of neatly suited men, their faces obscured from view by a variety of masks ranging from simple highwayman-style affairs to baroque and fantastical depictions of animals and mystical beings. She wondered which one He would be hiding behind and a delicious shiver of excitement travelled up her spine from her pelvis to the nape of her neck and back down again.
Tingling from head to foot with anticipation, Rachel began to stalk the room, looking deep into the eyes of every man that she passed. She would know his eyes anywhere. Pure, deep brown pools that melted you and drew you into their secret liquid centres, making you forget about everything else. She became aware that most of the eyes she was looking into were not returning her gaze but instead were wandering lustily over her body. She felt a glow of satisfaction as she recognised the hunger in the lascivious glances being directed at her. From her finely turned ankles, up her smooth calves, the muscle tone accentuated by the high heels she was teetering on, up over the graceful curve of her taught thighs to her high, pert bum. But most of all they were staring at her breasts. Rachel couldn't blame them - she had been amazed herself by the wonders the corset and dress had worked on her already gravity-defying bosom. Although uncomfortable and restrictive at first, Rachel had come to enjoy the tight sensation that hugged her waist like an ardent lover gripping her tight from behind, and the luxurious expanse of soft ample flesh spilling from the bustiere of her silk gown was more than reward enough for the discomfort. Excited by the attention she was attracting, Rachel became acutely aware of her pearl thong - a gift from the elusive man she was searching for. As she flitted from pillar to pillar in the high-ceiling ballroom she soaked up the sensation of the perfectly smooth round pearls, warmed from her body heat and lubed with the exquisite oils that seeped from between her legs, as they cut between her labia and rubbed against her swelling clit, making her gradually wetter and wetter.
Over time, though, a rising sense of panic began to take hold of Rachel. What if she didn't find him? He had been very specific - this was their only chance of meeting before he went away. He had sent her the pearl thong and the ticket to the ball, and told her to be here. She could only imagine what he had in store for her in the large four-poster bed in the master suite he had reserved for them both to retire to once the ball was over. It gave her goosebumps to think about it. But she had been late, and time was running out, and he was nowhere to be seen. If only she knew what mask he was wearing! Steeling her resolve, and doing her very best to ignore the insistent pulsing in her sodden cunt, Rachel wheeled around and began searching the room once more for her mystery man. As soon as she took a step, though, she felt a firm grip on her hand and she was pulled back, spinning, into the arms of a black-suited man with a devil's mask. Her heaving breasts landed with a soft thump against his broad chest and Rachel's captor embraced her, placing one hand on each of her buttocks as if to imprison her against his body. In the most persuasive, authoritative baritone she had ever heard he purred into her ear "I'm very jealous". Rachel asked him what he was jealous of. "Not what, but who", came the reply. "I'm insanely jealous of the man you're looking for. I'm sure he's not deserving of... of..." and here he made a sweeping gesture that took in Rachel's fiendishly proportioned frame "of all this." The man's mouth broke into a soft smile. Rachel made a half-hearted attempt to free herself, eager to resume her hunt for her mystery man, but her new assailant gripped her tightly and said "This is the last dance. He's too late now. May I have the pleasure?" And, before she could catch her breath to say no, Rachel found herself being swept around the ballroom by this muscular man who, she had to admit to herself, was a fantastic dancer.
After a little while, the man leaned in to Rachel's neck, and she felt his coarse stubble graze the silky skin there. He breathed hotly into her ear and said "I can tell that you're very excited. I know the signs. Your whole body is blushing and burning, your pupils are dilated and your heart is pounding." Rachel felt herself flush an even deeper crimson, imagining what this man would think if he knew what a mess she had already made of her new thong. She opened her mouth to speak, still not sure whether to act demure and sweet or wanton and slutty, but before she could utter a sound her lips were enveloped by his and they were kissing. At first soft, then more insistent, Rachel felt herself responding to the man's kiss. She teased him by coquettishly nibbling his lip before flicking her tongue very lightly across his lips. Before long their mouths were locked in a passionate, wet kiss and Rachel felt a renewed flood from her pussy, making her wish that she was wearing something more substantial than a string of pearls to soak up the juice. It seemed that the kiss had a similarly electrifying affect on her partner, for she felt a tell-tale prodding at her inner thigh as he drew her closer to him. "Naughty, naughty" she winked at him, and slipped from his embrace, leaving him alone with his erection in the middle of the dance-floor.
Nice as the kiss had been, Rachel was wasting valuable time and the ball was now in its dying minutes. People were deserting the dance-floor in their droves, but still there was no sign of Him. She began to feel despondent as the realisation that perhaps she had missed him began to dawn on her. Rachel found herself swept along by a large crow of people who were heading out into the walled garden of the country house in which the ball was being held. Once outside she realised how stuffy it had been in the ballroom and sat down on the cold stone ledge of a large ornamental pond to take in the air and cool off. Taking in cool draughts of the night air, Rachel found herself wishing that her dress was a little shorter as she desperately wanted to put her fingers between her legs to feel exactly how wet she was. The thought of dabbling her fingertips around her sex-soaked pearls and lips, then tasting her own juice, made the blood roar in her ears all over again. God, she was desperate for a good, hard fucking. She wanted a thick, strong cock inside her and she knew exactly who's she wanted it to be. Just then, she caught the faint air of Joop on the breeze - that was his scent. She gasped as she felt large hands on her shoulders, stroking their way delicately up her neck. He knew that she loved to be touched like that. She shivered and let out an involuntary low moan of anticipation. Once the hands reached her earlobes they tugged at her black and red feather face mask and pulled it down over her eyes.. Only then did he allow her to turn around to face him, although now her vision was obscured by her mask.
For the second time that evening. Rachel felt the warm touch of a man's lips against her own, but this time the lips knew hers and the kiss was sweeter, head-spinning in its delicate intricacy. "I know you're wet, Rachel" he said to her. "I know you've been wet since you arrived. I've been watching you, looking for me. I'm going to see just how wet you are, right out here in front of all of these people." Thankful for her blindfold, which at least gave her the illusion of some privacy, Rachel heard the delicate ripping sound of her silk gown being shredded along a seam right up her thigh. He gripped her left ankle and in one swift motion moved her foot up over the stone ledge of the pond and placed it in the soothingly warm water so that she was now sat with her thighs apart, straddling the hard stone parapet. "I see my little gift has done its job nicely" he said and, with a faint snip, she felt him cut the string that held the twin bands of pearls together along the length of her maddeningly engorged labia. The pearls, coated in a silky sheen of the juice that had been flowing freely from her throbbing cunt for hours, spilled away from her and she heard them bounce and run along the stone and hit the floor all around her. Faint titters and hushed conversation in the middle distance told her hat they had been noticed - perhaps they were even being watched. His fingers circled the tops of her thighs. "My God", he breathed, and she could here the trembling excitement in his voice, "you really are a very wet girl, aren't you?". A slender finger pushed at the sodden slit between her lips and she caught the scent of herself rising, growing more pungent as he stirred the leaking miasma into a delicate creamy froth. When he finally slid two thick fingers into her her own shuddering groan was actually drowned out by his, so overawed was he at the heat and wet that he found inside her. Before they were fully in, the fingers cruelly withdrew and she heard a soft smacking noise. She smiled as she imagined him licking her voluminous lubrication from his fingers, knowing how much it turned him on. Then they were back inside her, and she shifted her thighs further apart on the stone ledge and bucked against him, willing him on to penetrate her further, deeper, harder.
A third finger joined the first two, slipping in meeting barely any resistance from her tight elastic walls thanks to the extreme state of arousal in which she found herself. His thumb pressed up hard against her clit and, working it in solid, slow circular motions, he pawed at her g-spot with the soft pad at the end of his index finger. Rachel felt her liquid centre oozing around the fingers crammed into her stuffed cunt and bucked further forward, wanting to be filled up tighter. He eased his little finger in, still slipping his thick thumb back and forth across her lividly sensitive clitoris. And then it came - she could feel his thumb squeezing slowly into her - he bunched his fingers around it at the bottom of her vagina and pushed so she felt the knuckle of his thumb nudged beneath her clit and inched its way inside. Her pussy lips felt stretched tighter than ever before as the widest part of his hand fought to wriggle past them and she felt the waves of her first orgasm - she was sure there would be many, many more in the long night ahead - start to rise deep within her aching body.
His free hand reached up to touch her cheek and she instinctively moved to kiss it. With a deft flick of the wrist he swept her feather mask away from her eyes and for the first time she was able to see the face of the man who was fisting her out here in the busy courtyard. The scene around her seemed to melt away as she gazed into his endless dark brown eyes. Leaning over her to kiss her, he moved in and she felt herself tipping back over the water's edge. Caught between the infinite liquid pools of light she was staring into and the inky black warm water of the pond into which she was tumbling, her only thought was how good his fist felt inside her, and how much better his cock would feel... |
