The grand ballroom of the Ritz Hotel was packed to capacity for the charity event of the year, a masque ball for the great and good of society with a chance to see and be seen by those who mattered, a chance to show one’s generosity for a good cause and at the same time be photographed for the back pages of Tatler.
The event was a riot of colour, light, opulence and sensation. Beautifully attired men and women mingled, danced and drank together, all the while looking over the shoulder of the person they were speaking to for the next best thing.
Ladies slid elegantly through the crowds, sashaying in their sparkling dresses, hair piled high on their heads to expose graceful swan life necks. Plunging necklines and scandalously exposed thighs hinted at the temptations to be had, while the light from the huge crystal chandelier and numerous wall-mounted sconces reflected from their glittering rings and strategically placed necklaces as they moved. Men in dark dinner jackets followed them with predatory gazes, their expensive tailored suits a sombre contrast to the bouquet of colours that were the women in the room.
Everyone wore a mask. For many, this was just another opportunity to display their wealth and style with lavish and flamboyant designs that singled them out from across the crowded room. It spoke volumes of the individual behind the mask that such peacocking was required. Others had chosen a more understated approach, simpler, less flamboyant designs that spoke of the self-confidence beneath.
The man standing on the balcony, overlooking proceedings, was one of the latter. He was tall, at least 6 foot 2, with broad shoulders and narrow hips characteristic of a swimmer or rower. He stood laconically, leaning on the ornamental railing of the minstrel’s balcony, slowly sipping a gin and tonic from a crystal tumbler. A simple black and gold Venetian mask covered the top half of his face, but it couldn’t hide the amused twinkle as he surveyed the ostentation displayed before him. He grinned to himself and took another sip of his drink as he scanned the ballroom for someone worth his effort.
A flicker of movement caught his eye as a single woman moved effortlessly through the crowd. She was tall, with a slim build, narrow hips and long, graceful legs. Her long blond hair tumbled in elegant ringlets to fall across her shoulders in a golden cascade. But it was the contrasts that had caught his eye. Where her skin was milky white, her long dress was a deep midnight black. It clung tightly to her body, accentuating every curve and line. It covered her shoulders and chest in a gossamer-thin web of gauze that came together to frame her perfectly proportioned breasts. The dress continued down to her narrow waist, where a scandalously long slit exposed her left leg almost to the top of her thigh.
He leaned further forward, entranced by this seductive vision. She must have sensed his gaze as her head turned and her blue eyes locked on his. Her face was masked in a similarly simple design, but where he was black and gold, hers was a simple solid black. She read his intentions in a heartbeat and recognised in him a kindred spirit. Her ruby red lips parted in a coy smile, and with a slight nod of the head, she indicated that he should follow. Without waiting for acknowledgement, she turned and headed for one of the many side doors to the ballroom.
With what he hoped was a confident swagger, the man quickly descended the flight of steps and made for the door she had just left through. He twisted and turned to get through the crowd, ever conscious of the woman standing in the doorway watching him with an amused glint in her eye. When he was only a few paces away, she turned and headed down the corridor at a slow, languid pace. He followed, keeping a gap between them, letting her choose the route and set the pace. She took the main corridor that ran parallel to the ballroom until it turned towards the staff areas beyond. It was quieter here, darker, with no others moving through the corridors and only the muted roar of the ball in the background.
She turned a corner suddenly, her black dress blending with the darkness of the corridor beyond. He increased his speed and followed. He turned the corner and stopped dead. There in the corridor, the woman was waiting for him. She stood with her back to the wall, hands behind her back and one black Louboutin clad, high heeled foot raised against the wall, exposing her milk-white thigh to his hungry gaze. It was such a contrasting vision of innocent demure and blazing sexuality that he was momentarily paralysed with indecision.
She broke the moment by beckoning him forward with one long, manicured finger, the nail shining crimson red in the dim light. He moved towards her, his hand running up the smooth skin of her exposed thigh, his other moving around the small of her back and down to cup one cheek of her perfectly shaped behind. He squeezed gently, eliciting an excited moan from her. Her arms enclosed him, pulling his mouth down to meet hers. They met gently at first, lips barely touching, but then they began exploring each other hungrily with greater urgency.
Their tongues danced over each other as they kissed. His hands wandered over her body as she stroked his broad back. His caressing began on the firm length of her legs but gradually moved upwards until they slid over the smooth skin of her hips and bottom. He took a perfect globe in each hand and squeezed gently. She responded by moaning into his ear and grinding herself against him. Taking this as her permission, he squeezed harder, eliciting a whispered “yes” from her. She lowered her head and began kissing his neck and face. She raised her left leg, curling it around his. His hand wasted no time at this new invitation and slid past the curve of her cheek to the hot cleft beyond. His questing finger touched the smooth bare skin of her sex instead of the lingerie he had been expecting and elicited a quiet moan as he did so. He grinned at her daring and gently slid his finger along the cleft seeking entrance to the bounty beyond.
Suddenly she twisted away from him, and he stepped back, thinking he had somehow gone too far, but she had simply turned herself to face the wall, arching her back and presenting her gorgeous behind to him. He stepped forward and grabbed her by the hips, sensing now that this was a woman who liked to be dominated. He ran his hands up her belly and over her breasts, squeezing them until she let loose another low animalistic moan. One hand continued upwards and stroked her throat, turning her head so he could kiss her mouth hungrily. His other hand slid down and gathered the folds of her dress, pulling it up and aside so he could see the firm pale orbs. He stroked her cheeks again, and she gasped as the cold air of the dark corridor touched her, then moaned as she heard his fly unzip and felt the warmth of his penis as it rested against her. He penetrated her with a single trust, pinning her to the wall with his weight. They both moaned as he began to rhythmically move inside her.
As he moved against her, one of his hands slid down between her thighs and began to rub her in unison with his thrusts, while the other slid up to her throat and gently grasped her, stretching her long graceful neck out. She arched her back further, drawing him deeper into her as a familiar aching spread through her. She took his hand from her throat and placed it on her left breast. He took the invitation, squeezing and fondling the breast, causing the nipple to harden and jut erect. He rolled it between his fingers, and she moaned again, deeper this time and whispered, “Yes, harder.”
He took this as his cue and increased the pace and strength of his thrusts. Where before he had been content to pace himself and prolong the moment, he now used all his strength and stamina to give this goddess what she wanted. He held her with both hands on her hips and drew himself out so that only the tip of his penis rested at the edge of her lips, waiting as she moaned at the sudden loss of fulfilment. She wiggled against him, trying to draw him back in.
He slammed his hips forward with a grin, penetrating her to his full length. She gasped at this sudden invasion as she was further pinned against the wall and then moaned as he pulled back, slowly, letting his full-length slide past every sensitive part of her. He slammed forward again, deeper and harder, the impact pushing her face and chest against the cold wall. Again and again, he thrust into her as the heat and intensity built to an agonising but pleasurable crescendo. His grunts became more guttural, and she knew that he was close. She wanted to cum together with him and slid her hand between her legs. Her fingers slid down to find her sweet spot and began to pleasure herself, further building to the inevitable conclusion. Every so often, she slid her hand further down and let her nails scrape along the base of his penis as it thrust in and out of her, smiling to herself as he groaned in pleasure.
She sensed that he was close now. His thrusts had increased in pace, and his breathing came in short, ragged bursts. His hands tightened on her hips, gripping so hard that it hurt, sending yet more sensations to join those emanating from her loins and breasts. She increased the speed of her fingers and felt the familiar building of pressure. With a last grunt of release, he thrust forward and held himself deep inside her. He flooded her with his warmth, causing her to tip over the edge. Her own orgasm rushed over her as she stood on the tips of her toes, speared to the wall by the weight and passion of the man behind her. Her whole body shook as the orgasm tore through her, leaving her unable to even moan in pleasure. Her mouth was open, but no sound came out. Sensing an opportunity, the man grasped her hair and gently pulled, tilting her head back and further arching her spine. He drew his hips back and thrust again.
She moaned now. A long low animalistic groan of ecstatic pleasure. Her legs shook, and she would likely have fallen had she not been pinned to the wall by him. He thrust again, tightening his grip on her hair and grinning as her whole body quivered with silent pleasure. He held her there still pinned against the wall, his penis deep inside of her until her orgasm subsided and she was once again able to support herself. She twisted her head backwards and pulled his face to hers. They kissed deeply.
She was about to say something when they both tensed in alarm. Even over the muted roar of the ongoing party, they had both heard the heavy tread of someone approaching. He quickly looked around for an escape route and realised that they were standing in what must be an office corridor of the hotel management staff. He turned back to grab the woman’s hand, but she had gone. He looked around desperately to catch a glimpse of the siren, but he couldn’t see her. He pressed himself back into the darkness, hoping that his dark attire would somewhat blend him into the corridor. The footsteps came and went down the corridor without him seeing the owner. He breathed a sigh of relief and hurried back to the ball, desperate to catch up to his elusive partner.
The party was still in full swing, and he desperately looked around the packed room for the simple but striking black dress. He thought he saw a glimpse of it near the grand entrance hall, and he hurriedly pushed through the throng. He caught up to her just as she got into a black cab. She looked back and saw him standing on the steps of the hotel. She smiled seductively at him before raising those perfectly manicured crimson nails and blowing him a kiss. They maintained eye contact as the doorman closed the cab door, and it pulled away into the steady stream of traffic on Piccadilly. He watched the cab go until the doorman coughed politely to attract his attention. He handed him a folded slip of paper, “From the young lady, Sir.”
He unfolded it and written on the inside in perfectly formed script; he found an address and a ruby red imprint of her lips. He grinned and called for his own cab. The night was still young, and he was intrigued to see where it took him.
