Thursday, 3 January 2019

Masquerade


The hall, seemingly vast, filled with people all wearing the same black colours, embraced his eyes. All flowing, all moving, dancing to the splendid music. Grandiose, a spectacle that he’d never, in his entire life, witnessed until this very moment. Cautious, also wearing a black suit provided to him at the hotel, along with a card of instructions, he slowly walked through the dancing people. Watching, ensuring that he didn't miss anything.


He knew that she liked to play, to display her more adventurous side, but this, this right here, was truly unexpected. Everyone, every single person, wearing a lace eye mask. All perfectly presented, smart, dressed to truly impress with the various luxurious perfumes embracing his senses. He’d never dreamt that something like this would happen, could happen, to someone such as himself. He didn't often like to dream, as he knew what his dreams involved. He wanted the simple life, a partner, maybe some adventure, a place to call home, maybe the kids, maybe the moments, but that involved a healthy love between two people. He’d left his dreams to fade, many, many years previous, with this being what he had left in front of him.

Knowing, realising, that anything could realistically happen in life, he was happy to either forge his own path or to follow another, for awhile. He wasn't going to be led by anyone but in some ways, of course, he didn't mind what the results were, as long as there was fun to be had. The excitement fuelled him, pushed him, drove him to seek someone of a like minded nature. He needed his mind to be tempted and, right now, this really was temptation.

A masquerade, with the results being kept away from him. They’d talked, for hours, exploring, testing, exchanging, the appropriate way of things being explored in the most intimate way. Sure, of course, they’d kissed, but he wasn't in her life for the long term. He was transitory, a distraction, which he knew. In another world, another place, something could happen but for now, right now, this was all that mattered.

He reminded himself of what the card stated, ‘find the red feather.’ Minutes moved away from his eyes, as the many bodies danced around. Again and again, another face hidden behind the beautiful lace, the red lips, the many eyes, with his mind urgently trying to find that red feather. Another few moments escaped and, just then, he caught sight of a red object. Moving swiftly forward, dodging the many moving people, he gently placed a hand onto the shoulder of a woman dancing with her partner. As she turned, smiling, he could plainly see the small red feather attached to her lace mask. She gracefully nodded, looking into his eyes, only to then hand him a small envelope.

Seconds vanished as he reached the side of the dance floor, opening the small envelope, to find another small clue, ‘2nd floor, brunette & lace.’ His mind wanted to ask a hundred questions, but instead, his heart and emotions simply wouldn't let anything else speak. This was adventure, this was feeling alive, which to him was one of the most important aspects of his life. If he wasn't living, then instead, he wasn't even alive. The day to day of life haunted him, the drama trapped him, with escaping being the only safety within his thoughts.

Looking to the corners of the room, then to the middle, he caught sight of the main stairwell and made his way over. He didn't wish to look like he was rushing, tact and decorum being at the forefront of his mind. He knew, as always, that there were many eyes within this room and one should always, at all times, be polite and respectful. To the side of that, of course, he’d rather simply run to embrace her as fast as possible. That, of course, was the male within him. Always rushing, never thinking, but that wouldn't do. Not right now. He was more than that. Or so he hoped.

With a certain grace, a confidence within his very smile and walk, he ventured up the stairs to reach the second floor. Walking straight ahead, along the finely furnished walls and flooring, he reached the end only to look left, then right. Two women, one to his right, the other to his left, stood a few metres away from him. He smiled. A test.

He looked at each one, in turn, taking in everything about them. Their smile, their stance, the shape of their beauty, the clothing and, most of all, their hair. He did have a thing for hair. He adored everything about a woman, bathed in their majesty, knowing that he’d be nothing, not even a mere man, without such a presence within his life. He turned right, knowing, understanding, that he always preferred longer hair. It was obvious in the way he viewed a woman, the way his eyes softened, especially when tempted.

He could resist, always, to a point. The charmer, the naughty smile, the big blue eyes, all working for him and, most of all, the soft seeking voice. He knew that he had aspects that women liked, but not all of them. Many wouldn't even look at him twice but the ones that did, didn't regret the moments they shared. Feeling a moment of pain, within his heart, he recalled recent events but pushed them to the side. His history was just that. Right now, this second, he was creating a new history and he was enjoying every single second.

He stopped in front of her, looking into her stunning eyes and she, in return, simply placed her lips to his while embracing him against her. He kept his arms by his side, wondering what on earth was happening. The seconds escaped the both of them, his thoughts eventually giving way to what was happening. His arms held her, her chest and hips pressing against his, as he tasted her lips again and again. They were soft, careful, knowing exactly what they were doing. More smooching, tender, than aggressive or wanton. His favourite, exactly what he liked, playful yet with a point in mind.

She stepped away, the moment gone, over with, his body just about to respond in the usual way, despite his thoughts not wanting ‘that’ type of thing to happen in the middle of a random corridor. His breathing, shallow, affected, the heat within his world raised by just enough to start his mind on a perilous journey. He thought himself a man of control, that charm hardly ever fading, despite the words that could sometimes dare to escape from his lips. He held a mind, within this body of his, that contained such sin despite being the most caring man many would ever know. He held the thoughts within a small little cage, with the most obvious key imaginable. Words. Words would always, no matter the lips, the hair, the touch of a woman’s skin, be the most powerful key to his mind. His affection. He didn't care if a woman had the most beautifully sculptured body imaginable. Without the words, as well as the intentions behind them, no amount of play would ever, never, open that place locked within him.

He was, however, still a man. He had physical limits, his body being one part of a two-piece puzzle. Open the door, play with that puzzle, complete the picture, without realising that there existed another level. He had desires. He knew this. As did the woman that had perpetrated the current moments. He ignored the growing situation, the turn-on of current events, instead forcing his mind to grasp hold of the current moment. He was looking for lace, anything lace. He had obviously found the brunette, who was still standing in front of him with a smile that could have melted the coldest heart. Another time, another place, he’d have simply wished to have taken her. Her lace mask, obviously not hiding a card, held nothing but her identity a secret. Her outfit, skin tight, slightly ruffled, held no keys which meant that there was only one place remaining. She obviously wore no bra, as her distinctive assets showed. He smiled a knowingly naughty smile. She knew him so well. So very well.

Gently, looking for any signs for him to stop what he was doing, he gently placed a hand either side of her hips. Slowly, very slowly, while still looking at those beautiful eyes and daring not to connect with her seductive lips, again, he started to move her dress. As it moved upwards, finally stopping at a suitable distance, he quickly placed another kiss onto her lips and lowered himself. His face reached the most mind-blowing lingerie he’d possibly seen and, underneath, sat a small white card just like the one before. he looked up, smiling, as she returned the smile and blew him a kiss. He removed the card, which sat just below her navel.

“Thank you for the card,” he said, returning to stand in front of her while lowering her tight dress. This was, if he were to be honest with himself, all quite a shock. He knew that she liked to play, knew his small secret, but he didn't truly know what the end result would be. Grandiose, shocking to him, but maybe not to many others, with his mind and now body no longer willing to stop. She’d caught him, embraced his mind, with the end result surely to appear.

He opened the card, read the words, knowing that the moment wasn't quite done. Yet. The third floor, the third room, with the word ‘endure,’ being the only word written upon the card. He nodded to the woman in front of him, moving away while keeping her gaze upon his. Another time, or so he hoped. Life had a mystery all of its own. A guiding hand if you allowed it to do so, directing you into trouble or paradise, depending on whomever you happened to meet.

After a few moments, finally giving in to form a quick pace up the stairs, he stood in front of the door. Breathing, noticing his heart rate being that of a person losing control, he closed his eyes to prepare for whatever was behind the door. Another challenge, another moment of madness, with the twist of a door handle being all that sat between him and the very next second. He turned the handle, the door moved, as he opened his eyes to walk forward.

He entered the room, taking in the surroundings as quickly as possible, stepping forward as the door closed behind him. On the bed, to his side, sat the most beautiful red-haired woman he’d possibly ever seen. Once again, hidden by a lace mask, the mystery being a constant in this playful dance. He placed the card onto the side of a cabinet, walked to the front of the four-poster bed, as the two gentlemen, each side, lifted his arms to tie them to the bed posts. He would have felt uncomfortable, maybe even opted to remove himself from such a place, but it was far too late for that. She knew him. Really, really knew him, from the simple conversations of honesty and discovery. He had a very, very special place for the women of flame. He’d wanted to be burnt for the longest time, to experience their fire, which was what this moment was probably for. Temptation, the masquerade of the truth, pretending, deception, the charade of a tender kiss becoming nothing more than a forgotten moment.

He simply didn't know what to think, at this very second, as she placed herself right in front of him, barely an inch away from his face, lips once again tempting him. Kissing, especially the first kiss, was always an experience that he adored. He could kiss the same person for life but, until then, he’d simply enjoy what he could. He, of course, being the ever-present contradiction of a personality. He, the one that believed in a happy ever after, yet willing to indulge himself with the passion and profanity of seduction, as well as the crimes of the heart.

She gently kissed his neck, moving her hair to the side. Her beautifully arranged hair literally filled his mind with such thoughts that should, maybe, never be spoken. As she kissed, as she moved, he tried to resist as much as he could. The two men, finished with their task, left the room. He couldn't help but be tempted by such a person wearing what she currently displayed. The imagination, his imagination, simply watching every single movement of the majestic woman in front of his very body. He did like to view, to see, to enjoy the fruits of experiencing new moments.  Looking at her, with a naughty playful smile growing upon his lips, he asked the simplest question he could think of, “What am I to endure?”  She smiled, kissing his lips a few times, as her hand moved downwards to feel,
“You can have me right now. She’d never know. I'm what you've always wanted, if you’re being honest!”

He could feel her hand, moving, holding him, teasing him, but this was all too easy. Too tame. He did want her, would have her right now if he could, but what would that actually do for him? A moment’s embrace, the quick meeting of two bodies, pleasing, enjoying, wanting, but that wouldn't sedate what he needed. He needed something else, he needed more, than what he’d had. The experiences of life left him feeling cold, alone, vacant, the switches and connections within him left to fester and die. Her hair, her lips, her damn body, right in front of him, might not ever be enough. His thoughts started to fade as her hand moved. His body, responding in the only way it would in such moments, cried out to him to have her. His head relaxed, his forehead resting against her shoulder, her movements enticing him to give in, to let go of his hesitation and inhibition.

His head span, his thoughts no longer his, he listened as she started to say words that would surely break him, “Let me fu… .” He interrupted her, lifting his head, his lips shaking, his body no longer his, as he simply spoke the word,
“Endure!” He knew that the person that controlled this play had selectively picked the woman in front of him. She knew his vices, his needs, his very wants and deep urges. She knew all of the moments that could sustain him for the short term. That sedation of his inner-male craving. He wanted more than that. He wanted absolute desire to rule him. Each day, every single day, that fire beckoning his every action to be all he could be, for himself and, of course, to serve her every need and want within both their worlds.

Removing her hand, she smiled, while looking ever so remorseful, that he didn't go any further. No matter the desire, no matter the moment or situation, every woman deserved to be wanted. He did want her but, right now, this room wasn't for him. The men returned, untied him, as another card was placed into his pocket by the red-haired perfection in front of him. Calming himself, knowing that he was losing his mental ability to think coherent thoughts, he backed towards the doorway wondering if he should stay. He’d probably regret this moment. One day. Or, at least, he hoped that he wouldn't. The door closed behind him, the envelope opened, with the words, once again, simply stating, ‘4th floor. Be a good boy!’

He read the last four words a few times. ‘Be a good boy!’ That, to him, said in the manner that he knew she’d say the words, echoed through his mind. This play, that he was within, all seemed so elaborate, a test of many moments, despite knowing that he’d never be with her. For once, in his life, he’d found a woman that knew exactly what buttons to push. She didn't need to include the two other women, the location, or this event, but he appreciated the grandiose spectacle. He’d reached a place that he didn't even know existed. His mental mindset, or current suffering, had embraced his thoughts more than any other moment within his life. He wanted her. Truly, more than deeply, madly needed her.

He walked to the fourth floor and, at the end of the corridor, sat the only door. His legs, his strong legs, barely able to carry him, as his will and strength reached an arousal of unimaginable intensity. His entire body, knowing, wanting her, knew exactly what it needed. He, himself, just wanted to see her, kiss her, to witness her hair move and to place his hand against hers. He knew that thoughts such as these were tame compared to all of the other things that he truly, deep within, wanted to express. Awakened, that deep place within any man, animalistic, the very thought of finally becoming the creature that he knew existed. It wasn't enough to be brought to such a place within his body, as he knew that this was all acceptable and normal, but the words and way she’d manipulated him were exemplary. He’d give her a gold star, but he had far more important things to give her.

He pushed those thoughts to the side. He didn't like thinking that way, the way men often thought. She was a living, breathing, thoughtful, intelligent and beautiful woman. He was more than this, despite feeling the very real sensations flowing through his body. She’d teased him, directly or indirectly, she was the one in complete control. She knew that he’d endure, that he’d reach this doorway. If you’re going to play a game then surely, obviously, you always wanted to reach the conclusion. Obvious or evident enough, that’s exactly what was about to happen.

He turned the door handle, pushed, walked inside and, once again, embraced the view of the room in front of him. The roaring fire, the classic scenario, the lighting set low, with the woman in question pouring a drink over to the corner. His heart adjusted to seeing her, moving that bit faster for the briefest of seconds, as his self-control embraced his entire body. The male urge, that motion within, calling him, begged him to simply let go and to have. The devil, as he knew, was a gentleman such as himself, but right now, he didn't plan on being an angel.

He started to walk towards her, keeping his calm firmly in check. She turned, head slightly down, her seductive eyes looking up towards him. She sipped from the wine glass, placing it onto the table to the side of her, her red lips calling him. Feeding his imagination. He wanted to find the words, to describe how she looked, with his mind instead basically faltering at each step. He, this man, the man of words, lost for them, forgotten, reduced to a place that he didn't even know existed. He would speak, he would and should have said a thousand different words but, once again, failed. He stood in front of her, her dark hair and devilish eyes tempting him. She knew exactly what was happening, to him, with him, her seductively intelligent gaze damn well revelling in the physical weaknesses currently being embraced.

She would laugh, if she found all of this funny, but to her it was more than this elaborate play. She needed to please, to understand, to hold, to feel and be wanted. It was more than that. Far more. She might feel sorry for him, standing there, with his blue eyes, crisp white shirt, along with everything else, but if she were being truthful, this man in front of her deserved her respect. He was intelligent, wise, knowing and accepting that it wasn't all about two people doing what they usually did. He wanted more from life, he wanted intrigue, that deception of emotions to play with each other, to tease, to hold with as much provocation as possible. He could stop this, all of this, if he chose to do so, but he wouldn't. She knew what he most certainly wanted and, in a few moments, she’d let him have her. That, to her, was simply delicious. Her decision, her desires, her needs, met in every single way despite the mundane life that she lived outside of moments such as this.

He watched as she slowly started to smile. A dark, naughty, almost evil smile appearing. At that moment, at that second, he could no longer hold anything back. He was a damn man, his weaknesses exploited, his desires served to him, her silent words speaking volumes and she didn't even need to say a damn word. He stepped forward and kissed her in such a way that the very walls should have looked the other way. Wanton, the reckless desire spilling from him, his mind no longer able to function or to form anything other than this moment. He lifted her from her very feet and carried her over to the large bed, placing her gently onto the crisp beautiful sheets.

With either hand he removed her stilettos in one fluid motion, throwing them to either side of the room. His body, teased, able, his strong arms removing his tie and shirt within mere seconds, he knew that he, at least, had to show her everything that he had. It would, of course, be foolish not to do so. She was simply spectacular, a moment to behold, but saying that, he wasn't really himself at this moment in time. Lost, engaged, his body and heart all working together for a change, he felt his eyes soften, emotion rising.

She watched, her eyes wide open, as he stood in front of her. Naked, exposed, a man that had taken the time to look after what he owned. He noticed her gaze, her hair ruffled, that look of desire calling him, asking him, to do what a man should do. He stepped forward, taking her from the bed, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her legs held him against her as her hips moved in such a way to invoke a certain reaction.

Her lips found his, taking every emotion, every feeling that seemed to be bellowing from his very frame. He hadn't felt like this before. He desired her, wanted her to a level that he didn't know existed. Each kiss drove him deeper into whatever he was becoming. Her lips, so damn soft, pressing against his, her nails digging into his firm backside, enabling a small amount of rage within. A healthy rage, a strong rage, the kind of emotion that this moment required. You couldn't become lost within each other without every single emotion being caressed and tendered.

He turned and sat against the bed, as he felt her hips do whatever they simply wanted to do. With one fluid motion, as she raised her arms, he removed her dress. His eyes and body greeted the sight with a rise in heart rate. No lingerie. The mark of a woman that knew what and where she was heading. Assured, confident, willing to give no thoughts to decorum or grace. All of that be damned as this wasn't a moment of finesse or frailty. This, right here, was a woman commanding a man’s body, as well as mind, to a point where he was firmly, completely, without any doubt, all for her. No other woman, on this earth would have done what she had done. No woman in his life, would find his very weaknesses, to exploit them in the most beautiful way imaginable. It was all her. Everything was her.

He, once again, span her around onto her back and pressed his body to hers. Every part of his skin, upon her, screamed with delight as his emotion cried in ways of happiness. Every single movement, of her body, brought him closer to her. She held his arm as he kissed her stomach, his tongue finally being put to use as he moved her onto her front. She arched her back, placing herself into a position that fired his desire to have her in that very second. Instead, wishing for more from the moment, he held her arms and lifted her, placing her against him. Wrapping his arms around her, with one hand upon her breast, he kissed her neck as she gently moved herself up and down. Just enough, not too much, to keep his desire firmly in check.

Then, no longer able to withstand the moment, the hours, the very days of words thrown towards his mind, he reached down and placed himself within her. Gently, barely moving, his arms once again holding her against him. Her skin, so soft, flowed over his fingertips as he moved them along her stomach. He watched as her mouth murmured a few words, his hands softly doing what he wanted to do, pleasing her, teasing her, knowing that despite what he wanted, he needed for this to be more.

She pulled away from him, falling onto the bed, turning, pulling him onto her as she, once again, wrapped her legs around him. He paused, for the briefest moment, knowing, realising, that although she did this for him, it was also for her. Seeing him this way, the power, this second, truly was a moment that probably could never be recreated. Once again, he watched as her eyes closed as he continued. Moving, feeling, using his lips in such a way to tease her, to make her know that this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought. He knew that he had but moments, her body willing him to give her everything, to let go of his feelings and to finally be hers, but he couldn't and wouldn't let that happen. Just yet.

They moved each other to a new place, with her resting on his lap, holding his head to her shoulder, holding him as close as she possibly could. She just wanted to feel, to enjoy, to indulge in this very moment. She could feel him, all of him, against her skin, against her lips, his fingertips slowly moving along either side of her back. He felt so damn good, looked good, smelt good and she simply wanted everything. Her body knew what it wanted, even needed, despite all of the elaborate ruse, this play she’d created. She wanted something more than two people in a room. She wanted to feel, really feel, for just this moment.

He could hardly even speak, his words being torn apart by her movements. Her skin, so very, very soft, teased his very touch, asking him for more. Looking at her, looking into her, he could see so much through those eyes. If he could take this moment and have the seconds, forever, he would. But that, that very thing, wasn't meant to be. He pushed the thoughts aside, destroyed them, realising that the only moment possible was right now.

“What do you want?” she asked, whispering, not really understanding why she wanted to ask such a thing. His thoughts escaped him as the words settled, still not quite able to even think, let alone speak.
“I want you,” he replied, “just you!”
“Why?”
“…because you know me!”


With each word spoken she moved that little bit faster. Edging the both of them closer,
“Why?” she asked again. Somewhere, within, for all of her decadence, the imagination that rested within her, she still troubled herself when believing that someone, anyone, this person in front of her, would want to be attached.
“because of this… ,” he replied as his soft eyes expressed what the words could never say. He placed his hand against the side of her face, kissing her like it was the very last day of his life, placing as much emotion he had into the kiss. Feeling every single second of her upon him. He didn't wish to give this much, he didn't want to possibly fall for anyone, but if this was the way it was supposed to be, then to hell with everything.

As the kiss lingered, still feeling her move the way she did, he could feel her start to let go, to succumb.

To be continued?


No comments:

Post a Comment