Party of Masks

Even though this is erotica, it was intended as serious literary work, attention to detail and all that. Originally written in late 2011 and posted on a blog.

Sitting in the parking lot with the engine off, watching the shiny happy people make their way to the party. Who the f**k talked me into this? Shaking my head and pulling the costume ball invitation from my jacket pocket. “1920s through 1940s vintage style clothing and mask required. Adults only!” Some stupid trendy social event I'm sure. At least there is “open bar.” All my associates know how much I hate large gatherings, I doubt anonymity will make me any less comfortable. Fidgeting with the tie of my 30's zoot suit in the sun-visor mirror, it looks straight. But getting out of the car and the calming evening air, thinking I do actually look good, which is rare for me because of my natural self consciousness. Black suit with red pinstripes. Black, red, and white spiral striped tie. Sarcastically long and drooping, silver multi-strand watch fob chain. Red and white wingtips tapping nervously on the driveway pavement. Time to put on the translucent plastic mask that covers the top of my face. Keep it simple stupid. On my head, settling the black, wide brim hat with red trimmings and white buckle. The car door closing in an ominous thud of finality, away I go.

Trying to stay calm as I walk toward the music coming from the main house. It is a warm autumn night, a few high altitude clouds in the sky dragging across the brightly shining stars above. Slight breeze on the air, trees have not yet changed color, the soft green leaves rustling together is peaceful. It won't be long until their dry scrapping together will herald the harsh cold of winter.

As I approach the main entrance of the large estate house a new song erupts from inside with a flourish of brass. HA! A swing number. They must have known I was about to enter. I am mortified by the strange compulsion to do an over the top bow (a la Jim Carrey's character from The Mask) to the ladies chatting near the door. Oh. My. God. Where's the liquor?

Before me is a large entrance way set into the corner of a massive stone building. Large wooden double doors, thick and heavy. Each with a plain but large bronze ring on the front. What knockers! Beside each door stands a sentinel, large burly men dressed as prohibition era rum runners, complete with authentic looking Tommy guns. One having what looks like a real nickel plated 45 semi-automatic tucked in his waistband. Down the stone steps from them, in the middle, stands a serious looking gentleman with his hands clasped in front of him. He's short, wearing a 1920s style black tuxedo, white gloves holding a short ebony cane topped with an ornately carved silver ball. A small rounded top hat on his head and under his nose, a handlebar mustache of an appropriately proportional size for his stature. A magnifying glass in his jacket pocket in front of the neatly folded white handkerchief. In a French accent he says to me, “Would you be so kind as to let me inspect your invitation mon ami?” I reply, “For Hercule Poirot, the greatest detective in all the world? How could I not?” I retrieve the invitation from my jacket pocket and hand it to the man. He examines the small document, “I find that nothing is amiss, bon soir Monsieur,” handing it back to me. Putting it back from where it came. “And good evening to you.” Tipping my hat to him and continue on up the stairs past the armed guards that solemnly ignore my presence.

A cool breeze on the back of my neck, coming through the door behind me as I enter the foyer. There are mirrors everywhere, the room is warm but not uncomfortably so, even with all the people filling this and the large room beyond. There is live entertainment; jugglers, mimes, and magicians milling about the people in conversation. Servers with wine, champagne, and hors d'oeuvres gracefully winding though the crowd. There is much laughter and of course the live band performing on the interior balcony to the right of the master staircase. Mobsters, flappers, literary greats; all drinking and smiling. I'll need a drink or two before I can smile. The energy of the party is casual but significant. I smell sweet liquors mixed with that of various perfumes and colognes. There is a hint of cigar smoke but I see no smokers of any kind. In passing the first group of people I get a strong odor of sex. I’m sure there is plenty of that going on tonight with all these beautiful people, lucky bas tards.

Trying to make my way to the bar I see a group of men talking around and ogling the cleavage of a redhead in a purple dress. Curly hair resting on her shoulders and spilling onto her chest and back . The dress fashioned after the famous Marilyn Monroe air vent picture, only purple. Large breasts almost falling out of the front of the dress, wide and low cut, not leaving much to the imagination. N*****s making a subtle appearance through the fabric. All the guys are starring at the great rack and laughing at her words, a herd of mindless sheep. She certainly seems to be enjoying the attention. Long purple velvet gloved hands, one holding a green clutch, around a man's arm and another lightly brushing soft gloved fingers up and down her cleavage as she laughs along with them. Seeing the bar up ahead to the left, past the chuckle-heads surrounding the beauty, I attempt to make it through the crowd to the imbibing oasis. As I go by, time seems to slow down like in the movies. Glancing to the left, first at the magnificent cleavage but my eyes drift up. She turns toward me and I get a better look at the mask, large glittery gold stars over her eyes and cheeks. Points of the stars making me look to the fire engine red lips, full of life, smiling, laughing. She turns more and our eyes meet, shining purple rings matching the dress, they sparkle, as if by magic. I am transfixed, eyes that give hint of more than lust, a deeper intelligence glowing from within. Another step and out of the corner of my eye appears a pillar of stone right in my path. Time returns to normal and I stop just short of my hat's brim colliding with it. I can feel those smoldering eyes on the back of my head. I take a step back and bow graciously, saying to the pillar, “Apologies milady, I must refuse a dance with you. Someone is waiting for me at the bar.” There is a reflection of her in one of the mirrors staring at me as I continue, giving me a casual smile of approval, intense eyes seem to beam that beautiful smile into my soul. Very glad I was able to keep my composure at the column. As the fiery goddess leaves my view, her eyes sparkle one more time and she winks at me. The most sensual sight a woman has ever bestowed upon me from afar. Exhilarated, I put my now sweating hands in my pockets, trying to dry them off. My hand brushes against my dick and I have found it to have grow quite hard from the experience. Wow, that hasn't happened in public since I was going through puberty. What was I doing again? Mouth is dry. Yes, I need a drink.

Approaching the sparsely populated bar and I order from a barman who seems to have been waiting just for me. “Two double vodka martinis, no olives please. First one stirred, to pour down my throat. Second one shaken, to sip and dote.” The bartender shoots me an inquisitive glance as he prepares the drink. The first takes no time and he sets it before me. I scoop it up and sip. Stronggggg, but good. I chug it down. Setting the glass on the bar with satisfaction, all full of air and wanting it full of liquid. The shock of the booze doing nothing to shake off my hard-on. I place a five in the large brandy snifter tip cup. Awaiting the second drink, across the room I spy an open door and an unoccupied balcony beyond, perfect. The alcohol starting to impart boldness, I look back for my purple cloaked ginger, only to find her not to be where she was. I am both relieved and saddened by this. The second martini is poured into the glass from the shaker. Looking at the drink, “Yes, I would love to dance with thee.” I take a sip, damn, it's stronger than the first one. Raising my glass to the bartender “Thank you kind sir.” I turn and take another sip, heading off in the direction of the balcony. Quite sure he is shaking his head and muttering to himself about freaky people.

Luck is on my side and the people before me seem to part just at the right moment, like a school of fish at the approach of a sea turtle. I am there in no time at all. Passing the threshold, I breathe a sigh of relief. All that social energy in one place and time, it disturbs me. I am calming down, the hard-on is easing. The martinis are starting to hit. My left hand still in my pocket, I give my hips a slight shake to return my soldier to its normal resting place. Reaching the granite balcony railing I look out into a well cared for garden and what may be a hedge maze.

The light from the door is blocked, there is a faint shadow on the stone railing, growing sharper. I hear the click-step of high heels. Great, a woman is out here with me. I try some breathing to calm the anxiety that is rushing over me. She speaks, “There you are. An erection is a terrible thing to waste you know.” I feel my body flinch at the words but I look straight ahead and gulp down the last of the martini. Trying to hide in the empty glass as she gets closer. I feel a hand on my left side as she slides her arm around mine. In my peripheral vision I see a purple forearm. Oh my God, SHE followed me out here, ME! I don't look at her so she leans into me forcing me to turn a little. My heart is pounding in my chest. Still not meeting her gaze, I clear my throat, “Did you get bored with the guys in there falling all over themselves for you?” Out of the corner of my eye I see the green clutch being placed on the railing. Putting her now free gloved hand to my face, turning my head to make me look into her eyes. I don't want to look but do anyway, again I’m transfixed. Becoming energized and aroused, just by looking into the sparkling pale amethyst discs behind the mask of gold glitter. My heart feels like it is pounding out of my chest and I can feel the renewed growth below my belt.

At first the hand on my cheek is warm but now as my face flushes , all I can feel is boiling blood burning my face and ears. She responds with a seductive purr, “That one brief moment of eye contact was worth more than a dozen guys staring at my chest all night. I know you felt it too.” She slides her hand down to my chest, over my heart. “Yes, my heart is doing that as well.” She steps closer towards me, making me face her straight on. Removing her arm from around mine, grabbing my hand with hers to place my palm right over her heart. Yes, it's racing just like mine, this is oddly comforting. All my attention goes to the hot smooth skin under my hand on the lady before me. I don't notice her hand has moved lower until she gives my crotch a good squeeze, I flinch. Without thinking, I place my free hand on the back of her neck and impulsively push my lips onto hers. Our mouths open and tongues dance, exchanging fluids, exchanging energy that builds upon itself. The universe unravels at our union of mouths, the party seems a million miles away. Wanting more, instinctively sliding my hand from her racing heart, over and down to slip it between flesh and fabric. As my fingers brush over her hard and erect n****e she flinches, her mouth getting hotter. Teeth grazing my tongue, I withdraw it just as her teeth meet and grind together.

She arches slightly, giving me a purr that's almost a growl as her entire body vibrates in unison. An orgasm from just a simple touch? Very cool. Her vibration becomes a visible shaking so I pull my hand off her neck and put it around her back, ready to support her. Being bold, I massage the large ball of flesh and roll the hard n****e between my fingers several times, then give it a rough pinch. She must like it because her head tilts back, our lips breaking contact. She gives in to the euphoria, squeezing tighter on my manhood, the warm hand feels good so I start to thrust into her as she rubs me though my trousers. Her legs buckle, I pull her close to me and hold her up, erratic breath in my ear. Swinging her around, I gently lean her against the sturdy stone railing. She goes limp and I slide my hand up the backless dress to her neck. The warm soft skin under my hand makes me want to touch her all over. I cup my hand over the back of her neck, hot skin under that lovely head of red hair. Wanting to continue her climax, I pull my hand from the warmth of her breast and explore the dress, hastily pulling up fabric, looking for a way in. Finding the end, my hand glides up her thigh and she gives a shudder. Still enthralled in her bliss, my searching hand finds the wetness of her panties. Through the lace I run my fingers over the damp swollen mound, I get another shudder, as well as a soft moan and a quiet hiss “Yessssssssss.” I quickly put my fingers under the fabric, sliding up and down, forcing the panties aside and sliding two eager fingers inside the wet folds. Another spasm as her walls press back on my entry. And a moan as her head falls to the side, exposing a luscious neck to me. Wanting to bring about another orgasm before this one passes, I put my mouth to the base of the beautiful neck, sucking and kissing. Two fingers in and out, in and out. Hips pushing back at me, telling the fingers to go deeper so I push harder, knuckles of my other fingers grazing her labia. In and out as the occasional spasm runs through her, down into her legs. My mouth kissing its way up the smooth skin of her neck, a subtle scent of lilac enters my nostrils, seemingly familiar. I speed up and use more force, fingering her wet slit. Wanting to make her cum again, my thumb brushing against a hard clitoris on every stroke. Pumping her with all my hand can give as my mouth finds her earlobe. First I flick it with my tongue, then kissing and sucking. She whispers raggedly, “Yes. Gonna. Be. Loud.” So, I move my hand to the back of her head. I don't stop fingering, pumping in and out, hard and fast. Nibbling on the earlobe now, progressively biting harder. One last bite and I hold it, still finger f*****g hard and fast, in and out. Not stopping. Louder “Yesss.” I let go of her earlobe and push her mouth against my shoulder to stifle her scream. Not wanting to drop her I pull my fingers out, secure my arm around her back and pull her to me tightly. Her spasms are a lot more intense this time, her feet not even touching the ground anymore, legs flailing. Muffled screams into my shoulder, the party definitely would have heard that. Hips grinding against mine, trying to ignore the sensation on my hard tool, not wanting it to unload this early. As the spasms and shaking turn into trembling, I see my empty glass and out of boredom wish it was full. Forcing my mind off the eruption about to happen in my pants, think to myself, this is one long f*****g orgasm. I snort at my own bad pun. With nothing to do but hold her until she regains her bearings. I stare up into the sky, watching the sparse clouds blow past the stars of the night, trying to remember their names. Finally her feet touch the ground. Still supported by the railing and my arm around her, I pull her head off my shoulder. Her breathing is rapid and shallow, she is out of it. I look into her eyes but they are half closed, fluttering and the eyeballs appear rolled back into her head. “Come back to me baby.” All I get is “Mmmmmmmm.” I slowly let go of curly locks and her head stays upright. Bringing my hand around to her face, I stoke her cheek with the back of my hand and push stray hair over her ear. Blinking eyes, making her way back to reality. “Hey, welcome back. That looked intense.” She seems to stare right through me, slow and nearly inaudible, “Yes, I've been waiting to do that all week. Thank you.” I gently put her full weight back on her feet. She's still a little wobbly but she manages to stand on her own.

She looks past me to scan for watching eyes and finding none, her hand goes to my chest and gently pushes me away from her. Stepping out from between me and the stonework, sliding her hand as she passes, down my arm and grabbing my hand. I take a stand and prevent her from pulling me into the party. “I'm not ready to go back in there yet.” She pulls harder, “Me neither, I just want a little privacy.” I give in, “Fine.” I let her pull me along, me eyes are drawn down to the curvaceous booty in front of me, swaying side to side. The dancing of the dress invigorates me and my manhood springs to life once more, bulging outward and wanting to be under that dress and inside her. We aren't headed to the door but rather beside it, she is leading me over to the corner. Into the shadows, where the light of the interior doesn't shine.

This side of the double door isn't against the wall like the other side, has this spot already been used for a carnal act? I am amused. A mischievous grin upon my face, accompanied by a rush of blood to my ears, I'm very ready for release. Turning around, she grabs me with both hands and pulls me into the darkness by my jacket collars. In our privacy we embrace. Our mouths colliding in rapture, tongues intertwined, the taste of her making me light headed. Arms around my neck, gloved fingers in the hair on the back of my head; caressing, grabbing, pulling. My one hand on the small of her back, fingers together rubbing circles on the soft skin. The other hand, loose fingertips dancing on the nape of her neck, tickling. I back her into the wall. Wanting to enjoy the moment but not yet be forceful, I ease my pressure of her against the cold stone. Fingers leave my hair and hands slide down my chest, leaving my body entirely. She squirms a little and pulls my arm from around her lower back to place it on her tits, recently freed from captivity. I tear my mouth away from hers and take a step back. The thin sheet of light from the crack at the door jam illuminates her large bosom and I plunge my mouth into the shadowed chasm between them. Hands at her hips to steady myself. The gloved hands returning to the back of my neck, pushing my head over a globe of happiness and I take it into my mouth. The soft skin is sweet and tastes of coconut. Fingers ensnare my hair and yank my head from her skin. She is biting her bottom lip and looking at me wantonly. She gives me a sigh and pushes my face onto the other breast. On this one I nibble, trying to drive her over the edge again.

Consumed by the need for release, I take my hands away from her warmth and bring them to my crotch. Down with my fly, fumbling in my boxers and liberating my erection. Lips and tongue still enjoying themselves on an erection of their own, sucking on a hard n****e. My hands return to her hips and glide down her thighs. I hunger to get rid of the purple barrier between us. I reach down to find the end of the dress and I do. Hot hands upon hot legs, wasting no time feeling my way back up to her hips and the lace panties. Encouraged by the nearness of being inside her, I renew enjoyment of the t***y hard-on. I want to bite it but I restrain myself. Dipping a finger from each hand under the elastic lace of the panties and pull them down a little, I want them gone.

The masked beauty grips my hair again, I try to bite in protest but my head is yanked away suddenly. In pain, hips thrusting, increasing my hardness. Scolding me, “Not yet lover!” More yanking, she flings me away from her and I stumble backward, confused. She lowers herself down into a baseball catchers crouch and grabs for my pant leg with one hand and motions with a finger on the other to approach her. I do so and she guides me into the position she needs, my hard member before her. I am so turned on by this but it's not what I desire, “Wait, I want to f**k you.” Looking up at me, tongue circling her red lips. I get a wry grin, “Trust me tiger, you will. The night is young.”

Greedily taking my shaft in her mouth, I sigh with ecstasy, arching my back. Her hands on my hips pulling her mouth expertly over my shaft, tongue massaging up and down its length. Stopping to look up at me as the the tongue darts around my swollen head, “Don't stop, I'm gonna cum.” Taking me back in, all the way down shaking her head. “God yes.” Up and down, faster this time. “Baby, you feel so good.” I look down to see gold and red bobbing up and down on me. Wanting it to be faster, I grab her hair with both hands, pushing her into me with them and begin driving into her with my hips. My aching balls slapping on her chin, ready to explode. F*****g her mouth hard, she doesn't protest, just the occasional slobber. The tingle in my balls becoming intense as I pump her sucking mouth. “Cumming baby.” I push her down and thrust one last mighty time. A torrent of cum gushes from me into the back of her throat. From me, “Ahhhhhh.” I spasm a few times, my flood becomes a trickle. From her, “Mmmmmmmm.” She swallows all of me with little choking, sucking me dry. Finally I'm able to look down and see the same fluttering eyelids as before. Looking beyond her face there are arms at her hips and I lean to the side to get a better view. Her fingers inside a sexy pink valley that is literally dripping, a good sized wet spot on the stone below her. She got herself off too, I'm impressed. All my cum is gone, she pulls her head off my limp dick with a slurp and swallows one more time. Looking up at me with satisfaction and she offers her hands to me. Pulling her up, I put my hands on her hips. I kiss her deeply, tasting a bit of my saltiness that remains as she returns my manhood to its accustomed place. As the kiss ends, I’m all tucked in and so is her bosom, “Thank you, that was fantastic.” She smiles and purrs, “Yes, it was.” Winking at me, she walks of into the night. I turn and watch her slowly, and almost drunkenly, make her way to the railing to retrieve her clutch. Turning around, she takes a deep breath and walls into the light of the doorway. Motioning to me, “Come on, let's get drunk.” I go to her side and we take each others arm, striding into the party with big smiles of contentment on our faces.

THE END..........for now.