We are dancing, slowly, at the masquerade ball. You, in the outfit I bought for you in my travels....a beautiful Chinese red silk dress, high at the neck, and cut just above the knees. Close-fitting but sophisticated. A vision of smouldering sensuality, you turn more heads than any woman in the room. You have worn the open-toed heels, also red, with the ankle ties that show off your calves, the sheer stay up stockings and red sheer thong and flimsy push-up bra barely there, as if nude under the silk. The simple red silk ribbon I tied around your neck before we left the room is barely perceptible but turns us both on, edging just above your collar.
I am in a black silk suit with crisp white shirt and red tie made from the same material as your custom-tailored dress. My black silk boxers let me move freely in my dress pants, so as we dance, joined at the hip, I whisper in your ear and press my lips against your neck as my hardness presses likewise against your lips below. My voice becomes slightly deeper and more like liquid velvet when you turn me on, which is often, so I know my words are making your juices flow and moistening through your thong , just as your trembling whispers are making me wet and cool at the tip of my heat and dripping down my shaft. Our bodies are perfectly aligned for sex, and I gaze into your eyes and swim in them, making polite conversation as we are floating on the music, with the submissive, naughty little girl just below the surface of the strong, sophisticated woman. Each of us wants to go down on the other right then and there, but we stay, for we are expected to, though we are getting more and more turned on by what awaits us in our suite later.
You intoxicate me that way and we are more drunk in it than from the champagne.
In the elevator at the end of the evening, I look into your eyes as we take off each other's masks. You smile that smile that says it all, whispering "Yes." and I gently press you against the wall, pinning your hands behind your back, running my fingers over your hard nipples through the material and tugging them slightly as I lick, then nibble, the side of your neck. You are moaning softly, not knowing that my gentle bites that will soon be all over your body, with red silk scarves delightfully holding you, spread out like a rich buffet just for us, and I reach under your dress, lifting it quickly to push the thong aside and stroke directly into your wetness. You are whispering "Yes, please take me here. " moving your legs apart and arching your hips to my hand, unzipping me in your mind, your hands urgently wanting to wrap around my hot shaft.... when the elevator.....stops.
My hands drop quickly and I move back just a titch....kissing you on the cheek to cover your flushing face as an older couple get on the elevator. They smile sweetly, commenting on your dress, and the ride continues to our floor, my arm around your waist, feeling you shaking with lust.
We finally arrive at our floor and as we leave the elevator, we hear the elderly lady say with a smile to her man..."You can actually smell the sex coming off those two...they'll be naked in less than a minute."
And she's right...
We laugh at their laughter, and her words, because we saw the glint our heat gave them...and know her words to be true.
So the hallway seems very long, like deliciously languid foreplay. Your stockings swishing together at their tops. Each of us wet. Ready.
You're thinking about the red ribbon around your neck and what it means between us. And you're thinking about the spa day you had in preparation for the masquerade ball. Knowing we'd be wearing the little masks we bought at the costumer's, yours red, mine black, you'd had a full Brazilian for the first time as an extra treat for us. You'd hidden your total hairlessness from me well while we dressed, and now you are pleased and aroused in a way you've never experienced, like new nerve endings all being caressed by the red silk ribbon and microfiber lingerie for the first time.
I'm thinking about the arrangements I had made in the suite for our late activities. The mahogany four poster king was properly relocated to the expansive arched leaded windows overlooking Times Square, as requested...I'd checked an hour or so ago when I told you I needed to talk business with those fellows in the cigar lounge.
I had also lit the tall candles, moved the dressing mirrors and angled them just so, tied the long red silk scarves to the posts and connected the camera to the big tv there as a monitor. All so you'll have several angles to view us as I delight you for hours in a way you'll not soon forget.
Windows open, sheers billowing, champagne cold. The heartbeat of the city drumming below. It'll be as if we're making love in Times Square itself from this erotic, luxurious perch.
At our door, I look in your eyes, kiss you long and slow. Reaching behind, I silently unzip your dress there in the hallway. It slides off your hairless body like a ghost.
I open the door. You enter. I pick up the dress and follow.
I put your little red mask back on you and you place mine on me. The masquerade ball will always be our favorite weekend. Such fun, dancing close, as if we are strangers caught in an illicit, kinky affair.
I pour champagne. You see the arrangements and smile broadly. We toast. You walk to the windows and step behind the sheers. I see your profile in the flickering light as you glide your fingers over yourself , looking at the square below and sip silently.
I've removed my clothes and joined you there, my hand caressing your torso as my hot hard ridge makes contact with your perfect ass.
You are more silken than the fine lingerie, so I unhook the bra and it glides to the floor.
The knife from a nearby sommelier's corkscrew slides coolly under the little strings over your hips. Two deft strokes and you breathe deeply as the little thong clings to your wet lips below, then gives up the ghost and drops to the floor.
You tremble a little as my fingers glide into your pool, then spread the nectar over your bald sex, slowly. Dipping my fingers in the cold straw mead, I cool your skin there and you gasp.
"Do you like it?" you whisper.
"You are completely hairless, naked for me. I do like it." then bite your neck softly.
We silently turn to the bed, knowing it is time.
At the side, glasses join the magnum and you sink to your knees, stockings whispering. You look up, your red ribbon catching the same light as your eyes. Plaintively.
"Yes, you may."
