December was sending out the year with a frosty disregard for scantily clad party goers. It was beyond cold. It was frigid. Ella had only left the cozy interior of the car seconds ago, and there was already frost forming on her eyelashes. Well, almost. She stood shivering on the sidewalk and watched her best friend primp in the car's window. Looking at her, Ella regretted her own choice in apparel for the twentieth time that night. She watched as Katy made some last minute adjustments to her outfit before they made their way into the masquerade party. It was taking a surprisingly long time considering there wasn't much to it; a red halter top trimmed with faux white fur paired with a shockingly brief black skirt, black fishnet stockings, and black, thigh high, vinyl boots with impossibly high heels. Last time she had checked, Halloween was still in October. Ella shrugged. Katy had never been particularly.....subtle.
She looked down at her own outfit. It was a simple black cocktail dress. It had thin straps and a square neckline that she thought flattered her figure nicely. The skirt was soft and full and flirted above her knees. Her favorite part of it was the back -- it plunged daringly low. She supposed it was rather understated, but the mask she had chosen for the night was very ornate. She toyed with it while she waited. It was typical masquerade style with elaborate beading and trim. It was all black, the only color coming from a bold emerald colored feather. She had gotten a bit daring with her eye make up and slicked on some deep red lipstick. She had cajoled her hair into a crown of glossy ringlets, and she had given in when Katy insisted that Ella wear a pair of stilettos and giant silver loop earrings to up the "sex factor." Even with those additions, Ella felt rather plain next to her flamboyant friend. A group of men walked by, whistling and calling out their appreciation for Katy's outfit. She grinned, winked, and curtseyed for them. Katy, finally finished with her adjustments, arched a brow at Ella's expression.
"Don't be so prim," she teased. "I told you that this party required a bit more sex. Remember, we don't even get to speak for the first couple hours. And you can't take your mask off. "
Ella groaned and rolled her eyes. "I know, I know! I'm supposed to seduce without speaking, tempt and tantalize with body language. Got it. Just one question, how did you talk me into this?"
"You know how." Katy grabbed Ella's hand and tugged her towards the entrance to the club. "As my best friend, you're obligated to be my wingman when needed. It's rumored that there will be many a hot man there tonight. So you're needed. Now quit whining and use those pretty painted lips to find some mischief tonight."
Ella knew she was bested. There was no way to talk her best friend out of a party. She could at least whine a little bit as they trudged through the arctic parking lot. "Who goes to masquerade parties for Christmas anyway?"
"We do. What better way to celebrate the holidays than securing a spot on Santa's Naughty List?" Katy slipped a ruby red mask covered in sequins and rhinestones into place. She winked at the door man before sashaying into the club. Ella tugged her mask on and followed obediently.
The club had been transformed -- Mardi Gras meets Christmas. Red and white silky fabric covered the tables and dripped over railings. Long ropes of Mardi Gras beads tangled over Christmas boughs. Glittering mirrored balls dripping with mistletoe hung above each table. The wait staff looked like elves that got lost on Bourbon Street. LOTS of bare chests... on both the men and the women. The entire place looked like a bad Santa's Workshop porn set, especially considering the amount of body glitter and baby oil gyrating on the dance floor.
Katy had already insinuated herself into the center of the crowd. Even with her usual witty banter temporarily muted, she was in her element and certainly didn't need a wingman. As she scanned the room, Ella wondered briefly how she was supposed to order a drink without speaking. A waiter seemingly appeared out of thin air with a tray packed with wine glasses and shot glasses and bottles of beer. He was dressed in old fashioned tails and also wore a mask. He, of course, wore no shirt. The coat was buttoned over his belly, but from what she could see - he had a body worthy of the Chippendale's stage. She accepted a bottle with a smile and a tip of her head.
She found a spot by the corner of the bar and watched the scene in front of her. Beautiful bodies clad in practically nothing gyrated together on the dance floor. It seemed like Santa's Slutty Helper was the theme for the night. Little clusters of people batted masked lashes at each other around the edges of the room. The shadows in the corners seemed to move, no doubt filled with illicit couplings. As she toyed with her drink, she wondered if she'd have to guts to get freaky with a stranger in the middle of a club. She took a swig from her bottle. The thought had appeal... Her mind drifted to the possibilities of a blatantly anonymous hook up.
"Ahem!"
