The Masquerade

TW/DISCLAIMER: This story includes non-consensual sex. The author affirms the story is fictional and in no way condones rape or sexual assault.

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"Come on, babe!" she whispered loudly as she grabbed his hand and led him away from the crowd gathering on the dance floor. "We have a few moments while my parents are distracted!"

Her family threw an annual New Years' Eve Masquerade, and over the years, it had become the NYE party to beat/ Everyone clamored for an invitation. Her father's entire law firm, her mother's socialite friends and several members of whatever charity fund they happened to be championing that year. Anyone who was anyone in local society was there. Inhibition was lowered, thanks to masks and copious amounts of top-shelf liquor. It was her favorite activity, watching the upper crust get down and dirty (and awkward!).

Her father was about to deliver his rousing "New Year=New Opportunities" speech that she'd heard one too many times. It was her chance to snag a little alone time with her beau, which had been shockingly absent in the week they'd spent with her parents for the holidays. While she had always been a bit of a closet exhibitionist, she didn't quite relish having that conversation with her waspy parents. But now? While they were highly distracted and she knew every nook and cranny in their drafty old stone mansion? Absolutely.

She linked her fingers in his and heard him issue a low chuckle. It reminded her of a growl, though Brandon was anything but a predator. She was always the one to drag them off into the shadows, to raise his level of fuckery and debauchery to match hers. It wasn't until the late hours of the night, particularly when she was alone, that she admitted to herself that she wished he were more assertive. That HE would drag her from the dance floor. That HE would push her up against a wall, discovery be damned.

She led them up the wide hall, contemplating in which drafty side room she was going to have him, when he took her by surprise and pressed her into a shallow alcove, covered by a heavy velvet curtain. He immediately spun her around until her lower back pressed up against some type of ledge. It was one of those old nooks where folks used to place busts of ancient philosophers or exploding bouquets of begonias. Bereft of either, Brandon placed her on the ledge for his admiration. Though it didn't last long. No sooner was she balanced on the ledge than she found herself... well... devoured...

THIS was the Brandon she'd dreamt of! His hands were all over her, his mouth on hers, his tongue teasing her, his teeth nipping. His hands danced over her shoulders, slid down her back, and settled on her hips. He cupped her ass and stepped between her legs, the narrow cut of her dress forcing it to slide dangerously northward. Finally, their bodies made contact where it most mattered, and she felt the ridge of him press against her slit.

Barely able to keep her head from dropping against the wall, she embraced the sensation. The heavy velvet curtain that partially hid them from view left her gasping in the darkness. The sounds of his mouth and her moans were amplified, such that she was worried about being overheard, or she would have been had she been capable of thought.

With care but determination, his hands left her hips to tug the tiny straps of her Badgely Mishka gown over her shoulders and expose her strapless bra. If she'd been thinking, she would have been embarrassed by its plain appearance. She was a 34F, and there was no way to pull off a dress like this without some heavy-duty back up. In the near total darkness, he pulled back the cup of her practical underwear, and dragged one callused finger over her already turgid nipple. Before she could complain, his mouth left hers, and she felt his breath trace a line down her exposed flesh.

For a moment, he hovered over one of her nipples. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, when he finally took her in his mouth. This was not seduction. It was an assault. He alternated between teasing her - circling her swollen nub with his tongue - and jolting her back into her body with a quick nip of his teeth.

She had never been teased like this before! Brandon was certainly considerate, but it had always seemed a bit... perfunctory? Tonight, he had her soaking through her microscopic thong in less than two minutes. Not one to be passive, she reached out with her perfectly manicured hand and slid her fingers down his suit jacket, past his trim waist, to grip the bulge she was already aching to have within her.

She paused.

"Brandon?" She gasped, half in desire and half confusion. His cock was bigger than she'd ever felt it. Bemused, she asked, "did you take some viagra or something?"

Not answering, he switched breasts, and hiked her skirt the rest of the way up so that he could slide a hand between her thighs. He barely had to nudge the material aside and his index finger was inside her. She was so wet. He curved his hand around so that he could insert another finger while also teasing her clit with his thumb. She came almost instantly.

"Fuck, baby!" she could barely breathe, as she draped her arms over his shoulder, gripping his head to her chest. "That was incredible..."

As if to prove he wasn't done yet, he slid his fingers out of her, gripped her ass, and lifted her off the ledge. He spun her around and pressed her into the cool stone. Once again, he tugged on the skirt of her dress until it was over her ass and draped around her middle. His broad hands cupped her exposed ass before landing a brief slap on her right cheek. She gasped and he chuckled, though he gave her no time to acclimate. No sooner did he expose her ass to the chilled air, than she heard the slid zzzzzzzzzz of his pants zipper and his meaty girth resting on her crack.

She couldn't help but be aroused by this new Brandon. She'd always felt the more sexual of the two, almost shamed by her desires. But whereas, in the past, he likely wouldn't have even let her lead him out of the ballroom, here he was, a fucking animalistic god! Her mouth hung open, panting short breaths as she waited for his next move.

He didn't keep her waiting.

He spit into his hand, and slid the head of his cock down the crevice of her ass, causing her to tense as he teased the tight rosebud even she'd not played with! But he continued on until the blunt end of him pressed against her dripping nether lips.

"Brandon, wait!" The rational woman in her rallied. "We need a condom!"

The one hand remaining on her waist reached up to cup her jaw in order to angle her face back toward him. She felt his breath hot on her ear.

"I should probably tell you..." her breath caught at his voice. "I'm not Brandon."

With that, he thrust home while simultaneously covering her mouth and muffling the scream of surprise at his confession. His teasing, his seduction, had prepared her so well that he slid into her with ease, despite his revelation. He bottomed out within her, pressing against her cervix and filling her to an almost uncomfortable level. What she'd felt within his slacks was nothing compared to the sensation of him bare, hot, and thick.

In the dark, there was no way to know his true size, but his length and girth filled her in a way that had her drowning in sensation. Slowly, he began to withdraw, as if ensuring that every inch of him would be burnt into her memory. When he was sure she wouldn't cry out again, he took his hand from her lips and replaced them on her hips.

He slammed into her.

He had played his hand well, waiting until she was so consumed by desire that her resistance was molasses slow to recover. His pace gave her little room to think. His thrusts were steady, deliberate. Ensuring that every moment was pregnant with sensation. The tight friction of his shaft sliding along the ridges of her channel. The soft pop as his head pulled free of her lips. The sudden shock of emptiness and exposure to the contrasting cool air. And finally, the swift movement and he slammed back into her and drove the breath from her lungs.

It was a rhythm designed to tease.

It was that realization that finally broke her out of her sexual trance. Rationally, she knew her arousal was due - at least in part - to her body's natural, primal response to being dominated by a true alpha male. She also knew this was what she'd been missing. What Brandon lacked. And she resented this stranger for forcing her to acknowledge it. Let alone his willful use of her body!

"Hurry up, you bastard!" she muttered. "Unless you're hoping to get caught? Someone will notice my absence soon!."

"Oh, don't worry, pet." he purred. "When we left, your dearly beloved was flirting with the bombshell behind the bar. And if I know your father, his oratorical endurance would put William Henry Harrison to shame."

His response gave her pause. Fucking Brandon, she thought. He'd always been a flirt... Wait! Does he know my father? The question was immediate and confusing!

As if realizing his mistake, her rapist picked up the pace, eliminating her ability to think. It was all she could do to keep her legs from buckling.

"But I'm nothing if not chivalrous." She could hear the grin in his voice. "As my lady commands. I shall hurry."

The words alone were nearly enough to send her over the edge. And that was before his devilish fingers snuck around her trim belly and descended to tease her aching clit. She clung to the one, lone, logical brain cell she had left.

"Wait..." She tried to use one hand to push back against his taut stomach, but the force of his thrusts required her to keep both hands braced on the alcove's stone walls.

"I've waited long enough, princess. I'm done waiting. You're mine, and it's time you learned it."

"Please..." she hated the taste of the word. "Please... at least... pull out..?"

"Miss a pill?" He chuckled.

"Please!" It was almost a whimper now, whether from fear or desire, she could no longer tell.

"Well if that's the case..." Before she could sign in relief, he continued, "I'm even more determined to fill you. Soak your slit. Make you mine in a way that no one else has been able to do. He leaned in close, melding his body to hers as he whispered, "and they haven't, have they princess? Have you ever let anyone finish inside you?"

She gritted her teeth, refusing to respond.

He chuckled. "I thought not. Certainly not Brandon. He's not man enough to take you."

"That's not true." She gasped.

"Isn't it?"

His angle changed just slightly until he was grinding against her g-spot. He increased pressure on her clit, and she felt every muscle in her body contract, as if a jolt of electricity were coursing through her veins. Suspended for barely a moment, paralysed, she saw the precipice before falling over the cliff into her orgasm.

"Fuck........" he growled.

The walls of her pussy were clenching him like a vice, basically begging for him to release within her, betraying her brain. He obliged her body's request. All of the sudden, his movements became shorter, more stoccatic. As if he were trying to force himself even deeper within her, not that it was possible.

Then he stilled. She could feel the pulse of his cock deep within her, accompanied by subtle, rocking pumps, as if he could force his cum directly into her uterus. Time stilled. All that remained was the sound of their ragged breathing in the humid dark.

And then he was gone.

Sliding out of her, he removed his grip on her and she sagged against the wall, panting. She heard him zip up his slacks and stuff his shirt back into place.

His breath once more teased her ear. "Don't worry my dear. I'll be finding you." The promise was clear, but before she could respond, he disappeared behind the curtain and once more into the crowd.

It was several moments before she regained her breath. Several more minutes before she regained her composure enough to venture beyond the curtain.As she ventured down the hall, she could only hope she didn't look as altered as she felt. She knew her cheeks were flushed, her skin a bit brighter due to the slightest glaze of sweat. But perhaps people would chalk it up to the crush of the crowd. No one would know that the slightest drip of cum leaked from her, and traced a cool path down the interior of her thighs.

Time enough to worry about that worry tomorrow.

She readjusted the mask, took a breath, and entered the ballroom.

Unbelievably, it was as if no time had past. Her father was still droning on about the possibilities of tomorrow. Her mother placidly smiling in his wake. She sighted her boyfriend (former boyfriend, she thought to herself) still chatting up the bartender. Had she not felt the dried cum on her leg, she might've believed the entire event to be a hallucination.

Just as she was about to make her way toward her parents, she caught a familiar scent. Salty. Warm. Masculine. She spun around, searching, though she couldn't see him.

He would find her again, though. That she knew.

Shivering in anticipation, she moved toward her parents.