“Watch them,” my man ordered. “Are you watching?”
With his arms locked around me and his right hand diving beneath the gauzy layers of my scandalous gown, I could only to manage to answer with a breath of sound. But my eyes caught fast on the tableau before me, looking past the edges of my mask and over the shoulder of the couple standing in front of me. I stared helplessly at another couple entertaining the selectively-invited crowd on a small dais in the center of the ballroom.
They were nude but for the elaborate masks obscuring the top halves of their faces.
“Do you see them?” he whispered in my ear. “How he licks her nipple, how she arches her back for him?”
“Yes. Yes, I see.”
Between my legs, his hand frothed the cleverly designed skirt. It wasn’t a full piece of fabric – no, it was a hundred pieces grouped together so it only looked like a single fall of pleated gauze. But there were a hundred access points, the material parting easily for his intrusion.
He timed it perfectly. The man on stage licked and kissed his way down his partner’s body until he settled between her legs. A flash of his tongue corresponded to a soft touch on my clit. I caught my breath, lust a flash-fire in my veins forcing me to lean back against my man for balance.
“Watch,” he insisted.
And I did. I watched as the pair on the dais grew damp, skin shining under the well-placed lights. I watched as the man stroked his tongue through his partner’s folds, circled her clit, lifted her leg higher so their audience had a better view. I watched as the woman arched and moaned and spread before her lover, inviting more.
Her man moved back, my man moved closer. His fingers drifted over my clit in a teasing caress, stroking too softly for any sort of relief. Not this early in the night – my man would make me wait, giving me just a hint of release, touches designed to send my senses soaring higher, my need shooting toward the moon.
We’d been to these parties before, I knew what to expect. It only heightened my awareness, my excitement. Surrounded by anonymous guests, many we probably knew in our real lives but unable to identify with the scrolled and gilded masks hiding their features. Maybe one day, I’d even be bold enough to let my man lead me up to the dais and perform for the crowd. But tonight we were only part of the audience.
The pair on the platform put on quite a show. I groaned as the man stroked his cock, fisting and squeezing, until he angled it toward his partner’s pink pussy. She was waxed, as I was. The better to show every last detail, every last drop of cream shining against her sex.
“Do you like his cock?” my man whispered. His fingers trailed over my delicate flesh. “Thick and long, flushed with need.”
“I like yours better,” I gasped as his fingertip dipped into my pussy. An incomplete touch that left me needing so much more.
“Look at his long strokes. The way he pushes all the way in, drags his dick all the way back out. His shaft is glistening with her cream.”
The man on the dais pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside his partner. He was wet with her need. She writhed, her knees drawing up to her chest as she tried to lever her pussy back up his shaft. Her hips were wild, desperate to draw him deep again. I stood close enough to see her entrance clench around her partner, and the sight had my body mimicking hers.
My lower belly pulsed in sympathy with her plight. With my man’s fingers tracing my damp sex, I knew exactly how the woman felt – empty and aching, needing a hot, hard cock to fill me up. Needing the push and pull, the drag of flesh through pleasure-soaked flesh. The hard pounding of a quick fuck or the forceful thrust of a long, slow loving.
Though with their show and my man’s touch, only a hard fuck would me bring satiation.
My man flicked my clit and my entire body jerked. His breath drifted against my ear. “Look at him drive all that thick cock into her. Look at how her pussy stretches, taking him beautifully. What do you think he feels like inside her?”
My imagination took off. Sight and sensation fired my nerves, flinched through my muscles. My legs shook as I widened my stance and my man tucked his hand more firmly between my thighs. Relentlessly, he began to circle my flesh – from my clit to my pussy’s entrance – wide, rough strokes that did nothing to ease my need. I only grew hotter, wetter.
“Look at how he speeds up. Look at his cock shoving into her, fucking her harder. Watch as they pleasure each other. Is that what you want? You want my cock fucking into you, filling your pussy?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “I want that.”
My man’s fingers slipped just inside me, barely moving as his palm heated my clit to impossible degrees. I bucked against him but his arm around my ribcage kept me from driving his fingers deeper. I nearly wept and my pussy did weep – great gasping sobs tore through my core, begging for my man’s penetration as honeyed tears slid between his hand and my flesh.
On the dais, the two bodies writhed faster, harder. Moans rose from the woman’s mouth, circling the crowd and rasping against my nerves. My blood boiled, my pussy dripped. My man’s fingers slid deeper, three stretching me while my flesh screamed for more.
I twisted, I rose to my toes, I braced my shoulders against my man’s chest and tightened my inner muscles. He laughed in my ear and demanded I watch the lovers find fulfillment. They were close, their movements losing the fluid rhythm and becoming jerky. Around me, the heat of the crowd rose, others cried out in pleasure.
“Maybe I’ll bend you over and fuck you from behind,” my man growled. “Maybe I’ll bury my dick in your ass and find you another cock to fill your pussy. Would you like that? Maybe I’ll find three more men, two to suck your nipples, one to fill your mouth.”
I shivered with lust, excitement, need. The thought of all that attention on me and my pleasure sent my heart surging, spiking into my throat as my core melted completely. My pussy rippled around my man’s knuckles, sucking hard and creaming harder. Electricity tingled up my spine.
His fingers shoved another inch. It still wasn’t what I wanted. On the platform, the woman climaxed with a wail that shook the chandelier overhead. Her partner grunted and fucked her harder, his hips jerking against her as if he were burying his cock in her soul, digging down deep to fill her completely. He threw his head back and roared at the ceiling.
My man’s fingers drove deeper, almost deep enough. The man on the dais pulled out, the last of his cum shooting across the woman’s clit as he wrenched back, showing us all the grand finale. I had a perfect view of his semen splashing the woman’s flesh, a perfect view of the thick white fluid leaking from her reddened pussy.
Mine clenched in response. My man pushed ever deeper and his fingertip stroked over a spot I doubt he meant to find so early in the evening. It was enough to send rockets shooting through my belly, starting at that sensitive spot and exploding just under my breastbone.
I moaned as heat spread through me in a quick tide that still only managed to drive my need higher. A momentary ease, a wicked tease. A hard pulse of pleasure and cream against his fingers.
He caught me close and I felt his cock against my ass, still tucked away in his pants. That was fine because his fingers still worked my pussy through the small convulsions wracking my inner flesh. Easing them and feeding them, keeping me on the edge so that my need was not sated.
Already I wanted more.
My man laughed quietly. “Yes, five men tonight, love. We’ll see just how much pleasure you can take. Me and four strangers, making you come, over and over. Would you like that?”
I shivered with the delicious thought. “Yes.”