The Masquerade

Our tempo was shifting again, and patience was an effort quickly losing its appeal. My own arousal gripped my body, and I slid the chemise over her head, throwing it to the floor before turning my attention to the last scrap of fabric separating us. I drew up to my knees and pulled her knickers from her hips, sliding them up and over her legs, before collapsing back down between her thighs.

Our naked hips pressed against each other, released, then pressed again. Our rhythm quickened as I slipped my hand between us, finding hot, abundant desire as her lust propelled her sex into my palm. Two fingers, then three, plunged easily in and out as her sighs grew more urgent before giving way to a steady stream of low, carnal moans.

I slipped one leg over hers to straddle her thigh so that I might glide my own slick sex over her warm skin. My thumb found her hard clit, and only a few strokes later she threw her head back as her first climax washed over her.

Her arousal unsatiated, she braced one hand against my thigh and used the other to find my own warm, waiting sex. She slid inside of me with a growl, the wetness dripping over her leg making it easy work. Locked together, legs enmeshed, fingers playing within one another, we indulged our lust furiously as another orgasm overtook her shaking body, releasing a torrent that washed over my hand and wrist.

I removed my soaking hand from between us and leaned forward to place my dripping fingers on her lips. She opened her mouth and greedily lapped at my fingertips, her eyes locked upon my own.

She closed her mouth about my index finger, which quickly disappeared between her lips. She released it only to gasp out, "Oh Alex, I have missed tasting myself on your fingers, but please, I need to feel your sex under my tongue."

I slid up her body until my soaking sex hovered inches above her face, liquid dripping down over her lips. Her plaintive whines only amplified my arousal until my need for release at her tongue became too much to continue to endure. I lowered myself slowly until I was within reach of her needy mouth. She reached up and buried her face within my sex, her hands gripping my ass greedily, fingernails desperately clinging, pulling me further over her.

Her tongue plunged within me while her nose brushed back and forth over my clit. One hand in her hair and the other at her breast, I ground and circled my hungry pelvis over her beautiful face.

She lapped back and forth over my sex, drawing moans from deep within me, only to plunge her tongue back into my depths. In and out, and then back and forth again. A river of pleasure ran swift and uncontained as my climax approached, my mind a cacophony of color and imagery. I was transported back to the ballroom, our bodies pressed together, spinning and turning, the room a blur of color and sound, until finally the heat bloomed from my center, stars exploded before my eyes, and my own orgasm took me, a great gushing tide flooding over Lillian's gentle features.

I looked down at her as she drank what spilled into her mouth. Her eyes were wide and wild, her hair rebelling from its pins, her skin wet and flushed. As my climax subsided, I lowered her head back to the bed and slid down her body to lay upon it, our full slick length pressed together. I watched her eyelids become heavy and dark and a small smile creep over her features.

"We never did that in chapel," she whispered.

I laughed, "No, some things would make even gods and angels blush."

"So, have you extracted your price?"

"And then some, Lillian."

A pregnant pause hovered over us until she spoke again, "You know I loved you then, Alexandra. I do to this day."

"I know, and I have loved you just the same. And if you stay with me tonight, I will love you still tomorrow."

As we slipped under the covers, she nuzzled against my side, our naked bodies entwined and heavy with exhaustion, and we fell asleep together, again.