Stephanie Unmasked Pt. 02

Stephanie bit her lip. She thought he was giving her a roundabout compliment, but it was a little too convoluted to be flattering. If he was trying to keep her guessing what he thought about her, it was working.

"You can imagine, all you like, Mysterious Leader."

Just then, Jerome's partner sauntered over to join them. Her movements were as cool and elegant as the serpents that formed her sort-of chest covering. Jerome noticed her approach, and took her hand to guide her to stand before Stephanie. She found herself again stunned that the woman was virtually topless. On closer inspection, the jewelry was in fact held in place by two transparent plastic straps, but it offered nothing in terms of support, and little more in the way of modesty.

"May I introduce my lovely escort tonight, Mikayla. Mikayla, this is Stephanie Vice, one of the young ladies from my firm."

"Hello," Stephanie offered, and the girl smiled. She might have been similar to her in age or a little older, but her beauty was nothing short of breathtaking. Her mauve enamel mask did little to detract from her loveliness, and big, bright blue eyes enquired as to her business with Jerome. "Your, ummm, snakes... they're the talk of the party. I heard it's a priceless thing, a one-of-a-kind made for a movie?"

"This is true," she had a thick European accent. Russian, possibly. "It is on loan to Mr. Masterson's charity, just for this night. They need someone of specific, hmm..."

"Measurements," Jerome helped her out.

"Yes. So they contact my agency, and it was offered for me. Priceless jewels, and masquerade ball. Masquerade! How could I say no?"

She's not actually his date. Not a romantic one, at least.

"Just like for the movie then!" Stephanie blurted, though the quip sounded less clever than when it had formed in her head.

"Oh, you have seen it?"

"Actually, no. But someone said that the girl who wore that piece-" she pointed at the head of one of the snakes, or at least had meant to. She might have fallen more heavily under the influence of alcohol than she had judged, because her finger managed to graze an exposed side of Mikayla's perky, pink nipple. It was even firmer than it looked, and freezing cold! She withdrew immediately and was about to apologise, but incredibly, Mikayla gave no reaction whatsoever. Instead, Steph leaned in and made a show of whispering as if Jerome should not hear her. But with a flair of melodrama, such that he certainly would hear. "She has the longest make-out scene with another girl ever captured in cinema. In the ladies restroom!"

"Is it?" Mikayla replied with a giggle. "Someone say we" - she indicated Jerome - "already made a fine recreate of opening scene. When we arrive, earlier." Then, she leaned in closer still, so close that Stephanie felt the cold brush of metal and diamonds against her own exposed flank. She whispered back, directly into her ear. A whisper for her ear only. "Perhaps you be ready, Stephanie, to recreate your scene also. The next time you go for little wee-wee." Steph didn't know if she was being flirted with or threatened, but she started when Mikayla gave her the briefest, playful nip on the ear lobe, before stepping back from her.

Another couple, surely among the eldest in attendance, forced their way into the circle with the clear intention of stealing Jerome away. Stephanie's boss smiled as he greeted them, but his eyes darted to Stephanie one more time. She gave him a military salute, and the couple pulled him away to discuss something quite passionately.

So, that went about as well as it could have.

"Have you seen this photographer for charity?" Mikayla's enquiry confirmed she had no desire to follow her date into his latest conversation.

"Yes. God, that was something. But for you, well... I don't know. I could never wear that piece to begin with. How are you so brave?"

"Perhaps I like this attention? The photos were not a problem for me. I'm model, so this is common."

"Even the upskirt shot?"

Mikayla laughed, looked down and smoothed her hands over her tight blue skirt. "That... not so common, but I do this too."

A female voice chimed in from nearby, husky, suggestive of a possible cigarette habit. "I let her take pictures under my dress too, but why not? Everyone already saw my ass anyway."

Stephanie blinked. An olive skinned woman in a red dress was suddenly by them - the dancer. When neither of them quite knew what to say in response, she continued. "So, Mikayla, I felt a bit silly pretending like we were best buddies when you made your entrance. Figured I could make it up to you by getting to know you for real?"

"I would like this," Mikayla replied curtly. "But first, this gorgeous creature here is Stephanie Vice." With mandatory introductions initiated, Mia turned her attention to Steph.

"Hi Stephanie, I'm Mia! Damn, your mask is just as good as Mikayla's. I'm pretty jealous, I must say."

"You can call me Steph if you like. And I'm the one who should be jealous. You probably heard this a million times, but I just loved your tango. It was the perfect stunt to kick things off."

Mia preened before her. "Thanks! At least you recognised it. Have you... done any ballroom?"

"Me?" Stephanie laughed. "No, I'm kind of goofy-footed. And too shy, as well."

Mia tsked. "I doubt that. Next time the music changes, I'll set you up with Brad. He's good enough he can drag you through the basics."

Then, it was as if the universe itself, in it's enigmatic omnipotence, was suddenly in unanimous agreement with the dancer known as Mia. No sooner had she made her proposition, and an instrumental piece of music began.

"Oh! It's back to tango again," Mia blurted in an enthusiastic rush. "You'll love this, and the basic is like, really basic. Instead of standard dance position, Brad will have his hand on your lower back. But if he grabs your ass, feel free to slap him!"

"May I have this dance?" It hadn't taken Mia's partner, Brad, long to find her in the crowd, and he now stood there with the three women, offering his hand to her gallantly. For the second time inside of a few minutes, Stephanie's heart was aflutter with the near presence of an attractive man; even taller and darker than Jerome, though not quite as immaculately presented.

"I'm busy!" Mia put her arm around Mikayla's thin, naked waist, but crooked her head in Stephanie's direction. Next thing she knew, Brad was facing straight at her. His mask was as black as his hair, with a number of feathers protruding from the sides. The invitation of his left hand was now offered her way, and, without overthinking it, Stephanie gingerly placed her right hand over it.

A firm pull on her arm drew her close to the beautiful man; a masked stranger. He towered over her nearly a full head, even with her high heels on, and she found her face near his shoulder. She looked up at him, but his dark eyes were unreadable. His hand found the small of her back, just as Mia had explained.

My bare back!

But the warmth of his touch was a change Steph felt inclined to welcome, and she reminded herself that he was a professional at this. And that was enough precedence for her to lend him her trust. She observed that he had positioned himself off-center to her, and the inside of his left thigh was making contact with the outside of her right.

"Like this, sweetie," Mia took her left hand, and straightened her fingers out into a flat palm. She positioned it so that the blade of her palm pressed in beneath Brad's shoulder, and their position felt complete. They were so close, she could smell his cologne. Compared to the other dances she had seen tonight, this was surely more intimate. "The first steps will be backwards."

Immediately following the delivery of Mia's final advice, Brad took a step forward, while pushing on Stephanie's arm and kind of lifting at her back. It was a clear signal for Stephanie to step backwards, and she surprised herself by using the correct foot and avoiding an early failure.

Their steps were small, much smaller than the showcase act he had performed with Mia earlier. But it was enough for Stephanie. A few steps back, and then one to the side, where they halted in time with the staccato note in the music. The next bar came, and again she was being walked back, on a curved arc possibly in order to dodge a group of people behind her. She didn't know where anybody was, but the strength in Brad's lead gave her the confidence to trust in his navigation. He seemed to be leaning into her despite a perfectly straight back, and his closeness caused her heart to pound hard and fast; chaotically off-beat with the dramatic music.

He pulled her arm out wide and angled his hand on her back, and she found herself imitating the promenade position she had seen earlier. Brad took her a few steps down the room, and Stephanie recognised the pattern. When the next staccato note came with a pause, she followed his lead to hold back from another step, and instead swung her hips to put her weight on her back foot.

Brad smiled in approval. "You're a fast learner, my little witch." Oops, she had not even had the chance to introduce herself. And witch? She had made the same comparison only some minutes ago, so it must have been true. With the next steps, Brad was pushing her in different directions, taking her through a series of turns that made her giggle. The firm press from each of his hands gave her subtle instructions about where he wanted her to go. The contact of his thigh on hers was less subtle, and Stephanie realised that the split on her leg had already permitted him onto her bare skin.

Now, I'm Sexy Stephanie!

She was enjoying herself immensely. There was nothing like an exotic man offering confident, expert guidance through the Argentine Tango to captivate a young woman and turn her into putty in his hands. Stephanie recognised they were back to the beginning of the routine again, except that she suspected his right hand had slid lower, almost to her backside now. He was partly touching her bare skin, and partly caressing her through the thin silk that started only inches above her butt.

'But if grabs your ass, feel free to slap him!' Stephanie tried to imagine herself making such a scene on account of a little impropriety from her partner, but realised she was not brave enough nor proud enough.

They reached the point where she expected to enter the promenade again, but Brad mixed it up. He guided her to stop with her hip out to one side, and he moved in a slow circle around her. She felt his eyes devouring her body. Everywhere the silk clung tightly to her skin, and everywhere it left her bare. Her naked back, that she thought sprouted goose-pimples under the power of his scrutiny. The near flatness of her belly, and the exaggerated curves of her hips. The obvious imprint of her cool, aroused nipples. The rise and fall of her breasts, for she couldn't help but breathe so very heavily. She felt his eyes on them, their supple profiles exposed by the open flanks of her dress.

Without an ounce of shame or pity, he made his 360 degree inspection of her figure. Her tummy was filling with fluttering butterflies, and the tickle in her vagina turned insidious. His stare pierced her heart, and swiftly catalogued all of her insecurities. He assessed her lack of experience in a moment, but that did not cause him to lose interest.

Perhaps he sees me as easy prey.

He finished his inquisitive revolution of her, and took her back into the formal embrace of their dance position. This time, his right hand was most definitely wrapped over one of her buttocks. Stephanie opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment he took her through another series of turns - the same sequence as before so that she might follow a little easier. His hold on her butt grew more assertive, and his fingertips invaded the crevice that divided her cheeks.

Stephanie was largely overwhelmed, and before she knew it he had pulled her close enough that her body rubbed on the front of his pants. She felt some hardness from him brushing over her stomach, and the swarm of butterflies inside her went ballistic. She barely noticed which way he was making her step; her attention was now fixed on his blatant groping of her ass, and she let him hold her tighter against his bulge. Not because she wanted to pursue that kind of attention from him, but she found herself at a clear disadvantage given his complete lack of embarrassment for his inappropriate condition. His confidence was formidable indeed, and his implied carnal interest in her was as flattering as it was harrowing. For the first time all night her body was heated above a comfortable temperature.

She looked up at the man who held her trembling body so intimately. His approving smile was now replaced with a predatory smirk, but Stephanie remained caught up in his spell. That ominous tickle was now a demanding urge; her vagina was complying with the implied surrender of her role in the dance. She endured the palpitations that accompanied her arousal, and then grimaced when she was pushed back through those initial steps of the dance one last time. Her movements were now oiled by a slickness between her thighs, making her feel dirty and uncomfortable.

Now who is in an inappropriate condition?

When they once more stood together in promenade position, his hand brushed back up to her lower back, but he brought his face down closer to hers than on previous iterations.

"I know your secret, my pretty little witch," he whispered to her. Stephanie stared up into cold dark eyes, and though she seemed to have no voice, she knew that her fear and her desire would be plain upon her face. He ignored her disquiet, her apprehension, and peered over the bare skin of her back, and down to where he still held her fast. "You don't need to be embarrassed. But I know you aren't wearing any panties."