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Ruby's Masquerade

Tags: fantasy, lust, love
Where soul meets body... for my cyber (soon to be REAL) lover ;)

She steps out of the carriage, a fierce draft causing her petticoats to swirl around her like a hurricane. She sucks in her breath, her nipples responding to the icy wind by violently peaking under her tight black bodice. They swell and grind against the bony corset, eliciting a surge of pleasure through her body. She runs up the stone steps and into the musky warmth of the ballroom entrance. Muted merriment echoes from the main hall into the cloak room as she signs the registry, stirring excitement in her mind for the possibilities of this evenings masquerade.

He stands at the bar brandy in hand, intent blue eyes roving the masked faces in the crowd. He is searching for her, even though he does not yet know who she is... He swirls his glass, the rhythmic clinking of ice fuelling images of the seductive dance he intends to compose. His senses on overdrive, a smirk of satisfaction curls his lips as the assembly parts and whispers are fervently exchanged. She stands perfectly still, absorbing the adoration. He has found the object of his longing - Aphrodite, as it were.

There is something above the natural affection she is accustomed to overriding her senses. Somebody is sending her a message, an unspoken promise of connection beyond her experience. The intensity of this magnetism draws her gaze to the bar. Heat pours from the top of her head to the soles of her feet as their eyes meet for the first time in eternity. Her surroundings disappear in an instant, blurring into insignificance. All sounds fade into the distance as all she can feel is the slow, heavy pulse of her blood, running like languid river through her veins, burning her heart. Her red lips part.

He takes her in methodically, her glossy black hair, her startling deep blue eyes peeking through the black and silver mask, appraising him with carnal wantonness. Her creamy shoulders and bountiful heaving breasts flowing over the black bodice. The scarlet silk garments that float around her like a sea of desire, hugging her curvaceous form in all the right places. Her long black gloves moving slowly over her hips - willing him to lust for what lies underneath. He is transfixed, remembering to breathe only when she takes a purposeful step toward where he stands.

She stops in front of him - her face merely inches from his own. he can feel the power of her body radiating through his tux to his own feverish skin, the warmth and sweetness of her breath on his lips inducing an erotic reverie in his mind. They do not speak. Words will not be at all adequate for what they will exchange. He can see the reflection of his masked face in her dark, glittering eyes as he reaches for a strand of her hair, rubbing its silky thread between his fingers, then tracing the contours of her cheek, her neck, her shoulder and the delicate curve of her breast. Her skin is on fire.

His touch is electric, pulsing through her voraciously. She can do nothing but stare at his sinful lips, yearning for them to claim every inch of her aching flesh. She presses her cleavage into his chest, her hips folding into his pelvis, the rigidity of his desire probing into the moist throbbing between her legs. His body now grinding into her hers, he moves a hand to her back and gropes his way down to the roundness of her ass, squeezing it firmly and pulling her curves even closer into his hardness. Her long dark lashes flutter close. A deep low groan escapes from her lips as his mouth converges on her neck, planting sensuous deliberate kisses up to her ear. He licks at her bejewelled earlobe delicately, grasping it between his teeth and sucking fervently. His hot fast breath sends a spasm down her spine. His cock grows at every little noise she makes, every rise and fall of her breasts and every minute gyration of her hips.

She is suddenly aware again of where they are, and feeling no want of censure, is incapable of disentangling herself from his arms. As if reading her thoughts however, he carefully releases his hold and clasps her hand, pulling her urgently through the crowd toward the room he had prepared for their rendezvous. She floats behind him, every pore tingling with anticipation of what must be. They stumble through the thick curtains into a disused cloakroom, the only sound, their ragged breathing slicing through the inky shadows. He frees her hand and she waits patiently as he finds the dim lamp and switches it on. He does not want to miss a thing. He takes off his jacket and sits on the black velvet high backed Edwardian chaise and spreads his legs, the swelling straining against the buttons of his pants, a mischievous smirk playing on his mouth. She lifts the skirts of her petticoats, revealing long stockinged legs and black stilettos and walks with measured steps until his knee slips between her legs and brushes up against her calf. As she lowers herself onto his lap, he can feel the immense heat emanating from between her legs and then onto his cock. His body involuntarily jumps and thrusts toward her, making her moan and jerk hard against him.  His face is engulfed by her munificent breasts. Her scent is driving him crazy. He loosens the ribbons on her bodice, tearing at them - overwhelmed by rampant lust to devour her. Her nipples pop out over the cusp of lace and into his waiting mouth. He circles her areoles with his fiery tongue and nibbles at the taut skin around them until she squeals.

She is pressing against his rapidly increasing length, the dampness of her underwear soaking through to his skin. He manoeuvres his hands under her dress and reaches around to grab her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh and spreading her cheeks wider. They are getting vocal now - still no words - just the guttural sounds of animalistic hunger - moaning, grunting, expelling their need in rapidly escalating tones. She quickly undoes the buttons of his shirt and runs her hands over his shoulders and onto his back, her nails scratching indelible lines across his skin, making him arch into her tits. She lifts herself up, moving her hands down his chest to his pants, unclasping and sliding them down to his knees in one swift motion. She remains perched above him, trembling with intoxication. He needs no encouragement. His hands move promptly around to the inside of her thighs and crawl tantalisingly up to her panties. As his fingers slide underneath the thin lacy material, they are immediately soaked in her juices and slip inside of her opening, probing into the depths of her passion. His cock is burning against her thigh, his wetness running down in streams.

She sits back onto his hand and brings her face at equal measure with his, and licks her swollen lips. Her eyes are black, the pupils so dilated that she appears totally fathomless and wild. His greed for her is reckless now and cannot be contained any longer. He suddenly rips aside her panties and thrusts his cock into her pussy, making her gasp. His hands on her hips, he roughly pushes her downwards onto his rod, penetrating as completely as possible, their eyes locked. As she rise and falls slowly, deeply, deliberately, their lips move toward each other and begin to dance - swirling, twirling and weaving their way through a song devised solely for this moment. Their movements intensify, the rocking and rolling of their ardour creating a sheen of sweat on their entwined flesh. She rides him like this for an insurmountable amount of time, their eyes never shifting from each other, their mouths never resting. But time is irrelevant, as they drift into a dreamlike state and the pulling and pushing of their flesh transports them to a space where body meets soul... and at some point - an indefinable magical moment in time - their masks disappear. for in this place, all that is hidden, all that was once declared  as secret - demands to be exposed and accepted.

Eventually, their flesh claims it's right to release also. Their arms simultaneously wrap around each other and clench tight as the inescapable climax begins to rumble through their consciousness. Their voices are harmonic, crying out at the pleasure of approaching completeness. Explosive tremors rack their beings and create sweeping currents of sweet consummation. They remain in this position for quite some time, willing captives to the fate of their cravings.


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © (c) Ruby's Playground 2008

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