A cool breeze blew through the elegant courtyard rustling the rose bushes and a young girls dress. Her mask was that of a fox made from black velvet. Her dress, left far less to the imagination. A blue see-through lingerie showed high rise white underwear and above a set of perky perfect nipples erect to the cold. Lustful light blue eyes peered from the balcony surveying a kingdom of admirers. However a beauty like this, with such risky attire, caught the eye of numerous rivals. Rivals of a surprising kind. A second girl approached, a fluffy white mask held up to her face. The new girls tanned hands ran over the beauties shoulder in a suggestive manner the subtly lost when she pressed herself, cleavage spilling, from a white bodice against the arm of her chosen. A whisper in the ear followed by a lick from this masterful subducer, for a brief moment she locked eyes across the balcony with you, hazel orbs locked with your own in what seemed to be a far longer time then it was. A cheeky expression covered her face,
she's mine.
A moment of dismay takes you but only a moment you are not one to give up easily. Hazel eyes retreats with the prize leading her by the hand further into the Valentines ball. You hurried inside ignoring the advances of several others, an ebony bunny, a porcelain skinned owl, mere distracts in the pursuit of a much greater goal. You appreciated the attention though it fueled your courage, courage you needed as you crested the top of the stairs and walked into a monstrously sized room. The Masquerade of Valentine was famous the world over men and women from a dozen different countries attended. The familiar English passed to French, German, Swedish and then back again in the wisps of conversation that followed you on your journey. Black polished floors, couples waltzing in a hypnotic pattern
you loved to dance
but no, not until the beauty was found. A waiter approached with an assortment of hors d'oeuvres the smell attacked your senses you hadn't eaten for some time and a sliver of drool descended on your lip. A worthy adversary but not a moment could be spared you declined the small mans offer and hurried to the upper floors.
It was here, in these very upper floors where you would meet a true rival, familiar brown eyes peered from behind a plain black mask with a plume of feathers off to the side. Her shapely hips found their way beside yours along came that scent. Of rich vanilla with a touch of something you could never identify. Her mouth says nothing but her body says it all. Eyes locked she traces a line long your neck and pecks lightly. You grasp her and, in a sudden movement, dart her to the side against a wall. Your lips meet in passion a hand quickly finds itself wandering down to your pants, all thoughts of the blue eyes forgotten. At that last minute when all hope seems lost temptation well and truly succumbed a cough from a nearby prude snaps you back to your senses. You look around to find fierce stares
how could you forget her?
