Hello. Allow us to tell you the story of how we met, D'aunne and I. A story so fanciful that one would think it impossible. But rest assured, it is quite a reality. It begins and ends in Rome, upon a star-filled night, within the walls of the House of Nicolae...
I came upon her in the moonlight, three stories up, overlooking the illumination that is the city. The balcony was wide and statued, and standing as she was, she fit well into the surroundings, as the only clue to her mortality was her light dress moving slightly in the breeze.
An inebriated couple rudely jostled past me, oblivious both to the Denise Jannah playing softly inside, as they danced off time, and to the building atmosphere on the balcony, as they loudly professed their lust for each other in gruff, masculine voices.
I've never understood how a man could leave the softness of a woman's sides, the curve of her derriere combined with the sway of her hips, and her proud nipples standing firm upon the pillows of strong desire, for one of his own... Quite frankly, I think it's downright stupid. I mean, look at her!
Appropriately, Ginuwine was playing in the background as my focus returned to the pleasure before me, the pleasure of pleasures, a woman - "...make me say mmm, mmm, daaamn! mmm!"
She had turned now, probably in response to the others, and was walking slowly towards the Martinique fountain. I dropped my wine....
I turned sharply to my left, the sound of crystal shattering against the marble floor startling me from my quiet fantasy. A man stood by the Delorean entrance to the balcony, seemingly looking at me, though I couldn't tell since he was backing the ballroom lights, and it cast his face in shadow. I thought about engaging him in some adult banter, but thought better of it as the others flashed back into the ballroom by way of the Centaurian door. After all, coming on to a gay man and being rejected wasn't my idea of intimacy. I continued to the fountain, sat on the side, dipped my hand into the deliciously warm water, and retreated again to my fantasies....
(Shit.) I made my way inside so that I could clean the wine off my slacks and shoes, and the embarrassment off my face. Safely inside the men's room I not-so-silently cursed myself for losing control so easily. (You dropped the glass?!?!?! Hopefully the light stopped her from seeing who it was..) Never had I lost it like that. NEVER. Not even in primary school when my first love Jan kissed Wayan in the chalk room. Self control had always been my strongest point, and my losing it then could only have meant one thing: she had to be a special one.....
(NO!) I pushed that thought as far away as possible, and quickly headed again into the activity, which by now had changed dramatically .....
I had just broken off a most lustful kiss with my fictional "Jean-Pierre", when I noticed a change in the atmosphere. I opened my eyes to dimmed lights in the grand ballroom, and an almost tangible silence. I gathered my purse and shawl, and hastily replaced my shoes; I couldn't resist twirling my feet in the water, so had hiked up my gown, sat on the side and done it. Heck, it was the closest I could get to being truly moist that night. So I thought. As I entered the room, I noticed everyone facing the center, where a small triangular stage was rising. It stopped at waist level, then a cylindrical stage rose out of the center of the triangle, it's top stopping at eye level. In my amorous state I couldn't help but to realise a sexual significance to the triangle and cylinder:female and male representations of intercourse, or preferably for my present mood:an all out fuck. On a table. With wine being licked from every part of my body. (Behave yourself D'aunne!)
It was considerably darker now, and as my eyes adjusted to the new lighting, I saw three people standing atop a strange stage: an amply endowed female of motherly age, dressed for the night's occasion; a younger man standing handsomely next to her in full formal attire; and another man in front of them with a head mic upon him. The woman was quite sexy, and I found myself drifting into past readings of Literotica, a hardness rising in my slacks, unrestricted, since I wore no undergarments. I enjoyed the sensation, for it had been a while since I had been loved by an older woman. She had been so kind in the act, so giving, unlike any woman ever. Or since. (I miss you, Celine.)
Mr. head mic gave his introduction in a quiet, steady voice.
"Gentlemen and Ladies, may I present to you this evening's entertainment?"
As customary at these events, the question required an answer. Unlike too many things today, everything at Nicolae's dances had meaning, and that is why his dances were so heavily attended, despite the astronomical entrance fees. The crowd voiced in the affirmative.