Wall of Trust Ch. 2

(The following story is a work of fiction and any reference to any individual, living or dead, is coincidental. This work also contains material of a sexually explicit nature and is not intended for readers under the age of eighteen or where such literature is forbidden under law.

Criticism is solicited and appreciated, but only if you've voted.)

copyright 2002

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I stood on the balcony overlooking the party, still flushed and breathless from the powerful climax I'd had moments earlier, while the masked man stepped back into the shadows and disappeared. He'd warned me not to look back, murmuring behind my ear, while his fingers still moved and stirred in me. I bit my lip, feeling those fingers slide out, drawing my wetness across my thigh. He'd spoken to me then, and though I hadn't seen his face and didn't know his name, I knew I had to find him again. Obediently, I waited, trying to calm my ragged breath, until he was gone, then touched myself as he had done. My hand pressed and rolled over my mound, fingers dipping lower, and I was shocked to find how much honey I had given him. Embarassed, I slipped off my panties to sop up my juices, and then realized that the scent of my come would waft up like perfume from the warmth of my body. Nothing to do but fold the little black things up and leave them on the balcony. I would have to go back down to the party without them.

I stood against the rail again, remembering the pressure of his body against my back and ass, the strange excitement of being made to come by a stranger, in a place where I could have been seen by everyone. Small thrills shot through me again. Despite the body-shaking climax I'd just had, I felt oddly unsatisfied. I wanted more. Looking down at the dancing couples in masks and costumes, I searched the room for him, expecting to see a man just entering the room, a man wearing a dark shirt, and me on his hands. No, I realized, he won't make it that easy. He wants me to find him, and perhaps to find something else too.

Smoothing my black party dress down over my tingling thighs and adjusting my small black velvet mask, I made my way down the stairs and back to the big room below, where the party was in full swing. Pausing at the door, I looked around at the men, standing and laughing with each other, eyeing the women. I stood up straighter and lifted my head, and saw several men look me up and down appreciatively. Was he one of them? I walked towards and slowly through a cluster of men, and looked at their hands, judged their height, trying to imagine how each one would feel behind me, pinning me to the rail and taking me there. Color rose to my cheeks and I suddenly became terribly aware of my sex scent as I passed close to each of them. They must have been able to smell me too, because I saw their eyes glitter, and they smiled at me as if they knew I had just come.

Trembling, I slipped past them and deeper into the crowd, heading for the champagne table. People were standing close together there, and as I made my way through them, I had to slide my body across their backs, turn and graze my breasts across other women as I passed. The women in their wild and daring costumes, all dressed to show their best assets, smiled knowingly at me, and I felt soft hands touching and stroking me as I moved by. I felt feverish, the hands and music and dancing lights making me feel as if I were in a long, erotic dream. I reached out for a glass of champagne and then took a step back to lean against a cool marble pillar. Instead, a hard, warm, masculine chest met my back and a strong arm went around me. I jumped and quickly tried to turn, but he held me firmly.

"No, wait a moment," he said behind my ear, and it shot through me, down to my clit. "There, they went past. You can turn around now, it's safe." I turned, and looked into brown eyes behind a lion mask. "Didn't want you to spill your wine," he said, and grinned down at me. No, it wasn't him, I thought. Not him. He wanted to talk, to keep me there, but I thanked him and melted back into the crowd. I felt the heat and flesh of every body I brushed as I passed, and though I'm usually careful to keep from touching strangers, I felt as if everything were different tonight. I began to enjoy the accidental caresses of hips to my burning ass, the elbows brushing the sides of my hot breasts, and I lifted my champagne glass higher, as if I were trying not to spill it, though secretly it was to make my body more available to the hands and bodies sliding past me. It felt like an ocean of life and sensation, and I began to feel drunk with it. My mask made me feel safer, somehow, and I began to sway with the music, feeling my dress brush across the naked flesh underneath. As I moved, the fabric swished at the curly, damp hair between my thighs, and I felt a delicious freedom in knowing I could lift the hem and show myself. I laughed deep in my throat and smiled, my first real smile of the night, and felt my clit start to swell past the tender lips. Someone began to dance with me, sensing my arousal, and I remembered where I was. Shocked at my own behavior, I pulled away and summoned my dignity back. I walked as rigidly as I could manage toward the dark hallways, intending to find my coat and leave, flee this dangerous side of myself.

"Will you give up that easily?" said a voice behind me. I stopped still, knowing it was his voice, the man who had woken these feelings in me. "I expected more of you."

Slowly, I turned around, afraid he would leave and afraid he wouldn't. With the brightness and color of the party behind him, all I could see was a dark silhouette of a man, angular, taller than me. But I could see the light in the eyes behind a dark mask and hear the teasing challenge in his voice.

"I... I... ought to go," I stammered. "I... had to leave my panties upstairs. You know... I shouldn't stay here like this."

His hand came out to touch my face in the dim hallway. He caressed my hair, then my cheek, then put his fingertip to my lips. I didn't want to, and I certainly didn't mean to, but I put out the tip of my tongue and took his finger into my mouth. I could smell and taste myself on him. He laughed at me then.

"No, you shouldn't. Imagine, a woman like you out in public with no panties. You, sucking a stranger's finger. You, with my hand inside you in full view of everyone in the room, coming. Trying so hard not to make a single noise." He laughed again, and I felt my cheeks burning with humiliation. He drew his hand down to my neck, down to my breasts, and pinched my nipple suddenly. I jumped, but he held my nipple and I knew he meant I shouldn't move. His fingers released my little bud, which now pressed hard against my dress, and I shivered as his hand slid down and across my body. I held still, almost breathless, and he rewarded me by cupping my sex with his whole hand and gently massaging me there. Tremors and waves shook me. I wanted him to do everything to me, right then and there. I heard myself making little sounds, wanting him to penetrate me, give me that release I wanted so much.

"Please..." I whispered.

"I know," he said. "I know what you want, better than you know yourself. You're going to have to try harder. I watched you begin to dance, and that's what you have to do now. I want to see you feel your own desire and admit it to yourself. Go and dance for me. Go now." He withdrew his hand, crossed his arms in the dark, and stood watching me.

"I'm frightened", I said. No word, no voice, just his eyes and my need. Hanging my head, I turned and walked slowly back to the party.

The lights were lower now, the couples dancing more slowly, grinding hips against each other. I took a glass of champagne, then another, and let myself be carried along in the river of bodies toward the dance floor. At least I knew he was still here, watching me, and that started a warmth deep in my pussy. With half-closed eyes, I reached the dance floor and began a slow, sensuous movement of my own. I danced as if he were right there in front of me, and I seduced my imaginary lover with all my need. My arms lifted and circled, and I felt my dress floating up as I turned, and I realized that anyone who looked would be able to see my naked vulva, and possibly the glistening there. Still, I knew he wanted to see, so I kept on, bending and turning, enticing him to come to me.

I felt hands on me, and smiled, turning under the warm hands, dancing, until two hands became four, then six. No! My eyes shot open. Three men were circling me, trapping me, all of them feeling my body, touching my tits, reaching under my dress. No! Angry and scared, I fought away from them, but they pursued, not wanting to give up their prize.

"No! Get away from me!" I cried, trying to keep their probing hands away.

"She's with me," said a voice, "You've had your fun. Leave her." His arms folded around me and I fell almost sobbing against his chest. Walking me backward towards a darker corner, he began to sway me to the music, holding me tightly till I calmed down. We danced like that, slowly, and I felt myself relax into him. What am I doing? I thought. He's as much a stranger as they are, but I want to trust him.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I disappointed you."

"No. No. You did very well. But there's so much more for you to know." Holding me to his chest with his left arm, his right hand slid down in a soothing caress, stroking me from shoulder to thigh, over and over, as we danced. I felt my desire rush back, making me jerk towards his body. Was that his erection I felt? I looked up at his face and pulled my mask off. He smiled and shook his head. "No, you can't have that yet. So impatient, aren't you?" Dancing me deeper into the corner, he pressed me back against a marble column and turned us so that his left arm held me away from the dancers. His long stroking caress continued till my eyes began to close and I gave myself up to it, then he laid his full hand against my vulva and pressed, making me sigh. His finger ran the length of my slit, back and forth, slowly, and then stroked my swollen clit. "Mm, so close, aren't you?" He drew his wet finger out and this time, took it in his own lips to taste me. His fingers went back and two went inside me, so easily, so deeply, and I lifted up on my toes to allow him in further. He began to stroke them in, deeper and deeper, his thumb pressing on my clit. With a huge effort, I looked back up at him and kept my eyes wide open, though I knew I would come soon. He leaned to kiss me, but gave me no more than the tip of his tongue. I licked at it, trying to suck it into my mouth, and tried to open my legs more, but he held me in control, holding me back. My legs began to tremble, but I held his eyes until he said, "Yes. Now", and I put my face to his chest and cried out as I came hard on his curling, twisting fingers. The music mixed with a roar in my head, as the climax went on and on, till he stopped fingering me and bent to kiss me softly on the lips. We stood there for long minutes, swaying as if dancing.

We walked back together to the dark hallway to find my coat, and he turned to leave me.

"Wait," I said, "please. Who are you? Will I see you?"

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"I can't. I... I don't know."

"Nothing else will happen until you do know. I think you already do," he said, and turned away again. I wanted to cry, wanted to pummel his back, weep with frustration, but he turned back toward me with a small card in his hand. Smiling, almost laughing, he held it out to me.

"Tomorrow night. 9:00. Be ready to know." He turned and walked away, still wearing his mask, his dark clothes telling me nothing. I watched him stride down the dark hallway towards the party, and then he was gone. My skin felt on fire and I dropped my eyes to the card in my hand. On it was an address. Nothing else.