The Party

1: Entrance-The ballroom

As I enter the room, I am first struck by its immense size. The broad stares lead down on to a expansive floor which stretches Hundreds of yards. The open areas are broken only by the symmetrically placed pillars which stretch up into arches across the vaulted ceiling. Broad plate glass doors and windows form the outside wall on two sides, leading out on to an expanse of concrete and then grass. The remaining walls hold towering murals depicting epic battles of armies and dragons. A magnificent chandelier hangs down from the ceiling with crystal shards of light dancing from the lit candles

I then begin to notice the people. Like myself they are all arrayed in fancy dress and period costumes.

The men are dressed in smart cotton and velvet jackets and waist coats. White frilled shirts accentuate the more dower colored and loosely hung ties and shashes. The masks are understated, yet conceal facial features and provide anonymity.

The women are arrayed in flowing gowns as wide and varied as flakes of snow in a storm. Their costumes are more elaborate then the men, and more colorful. The masks too are more detailed and ornate, covering not only eyes and cheeks, but also lips and hair with plume feathers and vibrant colors. As if in contrast, the bodices are plunging and elegant, revealing tantalizing glimpses of paler flesh tones arrayed as if on display.

I am self conscious as I review my own raiment. A simple deep red velvet cloak drapes down from my shoulders covering a form fitting jacket, waist coat and pants of the same material. A single black pendant clasps an indigo handkerchief in my lapel pocket. My cotton shirt is a lighter pinkish white color with a colorful and flowing tie hanging down my chest. I am grateful that the dark mask covers my eyes and nose. My hair is trim short and slicked back and my face is clean shaven to further conceal my identity.

There is music in the air. It is strong and elegant and carries well amongst the laughter and conversations. I am amazed at the number of people attending tonight. I move further into the room and over to a railed balcony overlooking the main hall. From here, I begin to see patterns forming in the crowd below. Many of the patrons have broken off into clusters, usually centered on some group or person. It is a show, within a show.

I begin to make my way down to the main floor now. I am intrigued by the complex interplay of the people and want to be closer. As I move I pick up bits of conversation, yet not enough to decern any real meaning. The groups continue to swell and flow to the sound of the music. In one group an attractive woman relates a tantalizing story to the men prostrated around her, hanging on her every bated breath. In another, a young couple are talking spiritedly about some exploration or another that they have shared., the crowd making cooing sounds at the peaks and curves of the tale.

Off in the corners, I see several quieter conversations taking place. Men and women talking more intimately about their private lives. Stolen glances are exchanged, and passions lit amongst strangers and lovers alike. I find myself drawn to these more intimate moments, listening to the words spoken in hopes of catching some of the intensity there. Still I move on.

Sparkling champagne is served in tall crystal glasses by a wait staff which moves seemlessly through the crowd. They dance amongst the rhythm of the party as if they are ghosts or fairies capable of alighting and the disappearing at a moments notice. As one passes, I collect a glass and drink deeply of the bubbly liquid. I feel a rush through my entire body as the alcohol courses through my veins. I decide that smaller sips would be wise, or I may lose control.

As the evening moves on, the music changes subtly. The tempo slows and the deeper baritones resonate throughout the hall. The groups begin to break down into smaller and smaller numbers. Eventually I begin to see that the crowd is thinning out. The doors on one wall open revealing a long hall, leading to other chambers within the house. The thought of exploring the insides, probing deeper into the darkness intrigues me, but the champagne has begun to cloud me, so I decide to get some air.

It is growing evening as I approach the glass doors. The stars are out and can be seen clearly above the tree tops at the edge of the clearing surrounding the house. The doors are thrust wide to allow entrance and exit to all at the party. As I move on to the concrete terrace, people mingle around me. I gaze up into the warm open sky and allow myself to be engulfed by it for a moment, lost in its vastness. And then I notice her.

She is standing away from the crowd, and off to the left. Her back is too me and her hand rests against an iron rail which separates the upper deck from some steps down to the grass lawn. Her dress is long and flowing, yet simple and understated. Her long dark hair is wrapped tight and held firm to her head. The moonlight accentuates her curves, and the fabric of her gown shimmers making her appear to be a goddess or apparition out of some dream. The stars cast a bluish light on her pale neck and revealed shoulders.

As I stand there, awed, she speaks to me, as if she has always know that I was there. “Beautiful isn’t it?”. Her voice is deep and crisp. She speaks with an accent which I don’t fully fathom, yet it entices me. “The sky, I mean” she says without turning. I must agree on both counts.

As I look around, no one else seems to have heard her and somehow I know that her words were meant for me alone. I stand there for long moments wondering if I have dreamed the voice, or if the alcohol has finally taken hold. “Yes.” I venture, not daring to hope that she will be real.

“I can sometimes lose myself in it’s embrace.” she says as I take a step closer to her. I see that the others around us have not heard my words either. Too my eyes, they seem to be moving in slow motion. Their words and conversations lower to a soft din and then fall distant. “I just love the night sky.” her voice surrounding me and carrying me away to the deep dark places of the night.

“Come, stand with me, and I shall reveal its wonders to you.” I approach and stand at her side next to the railing. I am enthralled by night and her closeness, the world seems to melt away and leave nothing but the dark and the stars far away.

I turn to her, and she to me. Each one of us has our masks perfectly in place, yet somehow we know one another. Her black velvet mask covers her eyes and curves down one cheek, as if to hide a tear. She smiles at me, and I want it to last for ever. Almost in answer to my thoughts she says “It doesn’t last long enough you know. The night, I mean.”

“And the party?” I respond

“And the party.” She reaches out and takes my hand in hers and looks up into my eyes. My other hand falls to her cheek and I caress it softly. Although her skin cold to the touch, our contact seems charged with warmth and passion. My hand glides down her face to her exposed neck. She steps in to my hand as I caress down further, brushing against the silk of her dress, and the prize hidden inside.

Our stare turns almost uncomfortably intense as we touch. Then suddenly, her gaze turns cruel, as if drawn to some passion unknown to me. Just as suddenly, the moment is gone. She turns her back to me and looks away as a soft sigh escapes from her perfect lips. When her face turns to shadow, I catch a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

I step closer, overwhelmed by the desire to comfort this troubled stranger. My arms enfold her and I pull her up close to my body. The long velvet cloak which I wear drapes down melting our two forms into one. “It’s all right” I whisper so softly that I almost don’t hear myself, yet she hears. I can feel her body relax at the sound of my voice as she warms to the embrace.

I stand there exalting in the wonderful smells of her body, and the electric closeness of our forms. Her hand, slowly caresses my arms as they enfold her. Her soft breathing is music to my ears. She turns again to face me, but this time she buries her face in my shoulder. She untangles her arms from mine, and wraps them around my torso and pulls me closer still. Her full bosoms press against my chest, and she takes a step in so that her legs intertwine mine.

Her body, pressed in hard against mine seems to grow in warmth as we embrace. I stand there struggling against the beating of my own heart hoping that I might feel hers. Her lips begin to caress my neck and ear. Unconsciously, I begin to run my hands up and down her back and neck.

Before I know what I am doing, I feel the luscious curve of her ass in my open and questing grasp. I pull her in tighter still as I begin to feel a tingle deep in my loins. I want her to feel the mounting arousal that she has caused and yet I am embarrassed at the same moment.

Her hands also roam over my body. Her tongue licks on my neck and I can feel the hard prickle of her teeth. I turn my face into hers and we kiss. Our tongues each explore the other as our hands did. I taste the sweet taste of champagne on her lips mixed with another taste which I can not identify. She grips my hair hard and holds me in tight to the kiss.

I run my fingers up her neck and attempt too entangle them in her long beautiful locks. I find only immaculately held styling. I then move back down her body where my questing fingers find their way down the small of her back and between the perfectly formed curves of her ass. Through the soft silk material, I can feel a dampness growing. She grinds the dampness up against my stiffening cock.

In my passion, I begin to seek stronger purchase to lean against. I lean her back against the iron railing and we press closer still. As I look her up and down, I notice that our wrestling has left both of us disheveled. Her strapless dress has slid down revealing one of her firm and erect nipples. I kneel at her front and begin to kiss and caress the full round globe in front of my face, paying special attention to the extended button at the end. My hands caress her calves and thighs through her dress. They stray up the slit of her skirt and towards her inner thigh.

When I reach her wetness again, she stops me. I stand again as she recovers her exposed bosom and straightens her dress and hair. We close again in a tight embrace, both yearning for more, yet fighting our passions. I am not sure how long we stand like that, locked in each other’s arms. As we disentangle ourselves, it seems the party has moved on a pace.

2: Shifting images

The night has definitely taken on a more surrealistic point of view. My companion lightly takes my hand in her firm grasp and I follow her lead as we begins to move back into the hall. As we move, I observe that time has resumed it normal pace and a new dynamic is unfolding around me.

I no longer recognize the people as they dance slowly around us. The costumes have changed in subtle ways. I notice that, in the spring air, the men have shed their cloaks and vest jackets, leaving themselves in shirt sleeves and pants. Masks still remain and identities stay hidden.

The women, also have shed some of the heavier layers of their fancy dresses. Petticoats have been removed revealing exposed shoulders and low cut bust lines adorned with elaborate jewelry and fabulous gemstones. Hair clips have been loosened to allow long flowing locks to drape down on shoulders and across cheeks. As with the men, the masks still remain firmly affixed.

A third group of figures has entered the throng. They are shrouded in deep heavy cloaks which cover face and body. Their movements are lithe and elegant as they insinuate themselves into each gathering, in some cases on the outskirts and in other cases more deeply inside. their introduction into the groups seems to have gone largely unnoticed.

The music has also changed. The melodies have taken on a more haunting refrain and the tempo has become more even and rhythmic, like a heart beat. The emotions that are stirred are more primal and elusive.

We are moving back across the marble floor of the ball room now unobserved as if we are ghosts. Couples and trios have begun to dance to the eerie music. I observe more open displays of affection amongst men and women than I noticed earlier in the evening. I pause to watch as one couple rub their bodies against each other. His hands openly exploring her body while a crowd observes. Where ever he touches, he receives a satisfying response from his companion. As the show builds, several more people move past us as if we weren’t there. They stop directly between us and the couple and block my view.

“Come, there are much better vantage points.” my mistress whispers in my ear. Her firm hand again guides me as we make for the stairs leading back up to the main entrance. We pass several more groups falling victim too their passions and the alcohol before we reach the broad staircase. With my lady firmly in the lead we begin to mount the steps.

I fear that I may also be succumbing to whatever spell has been lain on the party as my vision is consumed again by my companion. My eyes wander from the curves of her white neck, down the ridges of he spine and across her exposed alabaster shoulders. From there, I trace the line of her body under the silk of her dress down to the small of her back and the curve of her hips. I notice that with each mounting step, the tight fitting skirt pulls up and gives me a ghostly outline of her thigh. The sight is stimulating and arousing.

As we reach the top landing, I am drawn to a balcony which stretches around the outside wall. Several doors are set into the wall leading to inner chambers. I can see that groups of people are gathered here looking down on to the main floor. As we move along the balcony, people seem to part through the normal course of their movements. and we again pass unobserved. We round the room until we reach a point where an outcropping on the ledge offers a full view of the exposed floor below.

Sitting on a pedestal are two full glasses of the bubbling champagne. It is not until now that I realize that I have not seen any of the waiters since the terrace. I look down on to the main floor in search for them, but only see the guests and the robed figures. I collect one of the glasses as she collects the other. We both drink deeply as the drama begins to unfold beneath us.

My eyes quickly spot the couple from before. Their movements have become slower and more deliberate as she begins to caress his body. She as already managed to pull his shirt free of the confines of his belt and pants. The shirt also hangs loose at the collar and her mouth and tongue are kissing and licking around his neck, while her hands range under the white fabric. As the group surrounding them watch, several of the viewers have started kissing each other and doing some exploring of their own.

Turning only slightly, I notice another gathering. This time there are two men and one woman at the center. The woman dances and sways to the beat of the music as both men strip to the waist. They then start rubbing their hands and muscled arms and chests against her body. One of the men caresses her arms and coaxes them up above her head as the other man moves in from behind and caresses her back and neck with his mouth. His hands stray down to the jewels and her bosoms and she jerks slightly as if his touch is electric to her. Both men step in sync to press against her and sway with the gyrations of her pelvis.

My mistress touches me lightly as if to draw my attention. The smell of her perfume and the closeness of her body is distracting as I try and focus on what she is pointing out to me. Her creamy hand directs me toward a larger group surrounding a single woman.

The woman is tall and striking in appearance. Her flaming red hair flows loosely around her shoulders as she sways to the music. Dangling down from her neck, and between two athletically round exposed breasts is the largest red sapphire diamond that I have ever seen. It sways in counterpoint to her uncovered belly. Her creamy white thighs move in and out to the sound of the music and offer tantalizing glimpses of her shaven pussy. Her long legs stretch for an eternity down to her delicate bare feet. Lying on the floor next to her is the rest of her elegant gown and costume. All, that is, with the exception of her colorfully plumed mask which she still wears.

This sight along with the many others I have seen this evening have caused me to become uncomfortably aroused. I try to unobtrusively shift my position so that my discomfort is not readily noticeable through the velvet of my trousers. My companion, obviously drawn to my change of position steps closer. This does nothing to alleviate my current and mounting condition. “Do you like what you see?” she coos softly.

Slowly she turns away from me and takes a step back up against my body. I feel her hand run up the full length of my own erection.. Embarrassed, I look down but notice that my cloak now mostly covers her body as well. While we both stand and watch the red head dance, her hand caresses the ever hardening shaft of my penis through my clothing. We continue to observe the crowd below for several minutes as she strokes me. Then, with deft hands, she unclasps my belt and runs her hand into my pants. She grabs the head of my cock and continues stroking me.

At this sudden and intimate intrusion, I summon my strength and take a step back from her. In the shadows of my cloak, I rebutton my pants and belt against my straining member as it yearns for release. I notice that as she reaches again for her glass, that her hand is wet from my lubrications. When she sips her glass, she sucks her fingers clean and smiles. She then points again down to the floor to draw my attention to a new site.

Almost directly across from the naked woman, a man dances to the delight of his own audience. He wears a dark mask covering his face and nose. His long dark hair is pinned back in a pony tail which dangles half way down his broad shoulders. His exposed chest ripples with muscles as he sways extravagantly to the beat of the music. His abdomen muscles allow his body great maneuverability which he puts to almost poetic use as he moves. His powerful thigh muscles flex shifting his weight back and forth to the music.

I hear a soft gasp from my companion as she obviously notices the man. Her eyes travel up and down his naked body as she tries to take in the sight. A second, deeper gasp escapes as she takes in the heavily laden member which swings freely from side to side between his legs. She is apparently not alone in her appreciation of his stature in this department as the majority of his crowd are ladies.

Two of the women, having had enough of watching, approach the man. As he takes one in each arm, they begin to sway to the music. He takes turns kissing each one as their hands roam over his sweating torso and down past his waist. Their questing finger find their target at the same moment, causing the shaft to extend further as if to accommodate both competing parties.

At just that moment, a loud gong sounds and several of the lights around the room are extinguished. A hush falls over the party goers as even the music dies away to a dead silence. In the remaining light, I see that the robed figures scattered around the room now seem to form a rough circle with the muscled man and the red headed woman equidistant from the center. I turn to my companion to inquire what is happening, but my only answer is to watch

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3: The Dance

As the crowd falls away, the robed figures close in the circle, preventing anyone from approaching the couple. In the distance I hear a faint drum beat which grows in strength with each strike. The beat is slow and steady. Several torches are lit on the pillars around the center of the room causing eerie shadows to dance on the faces of the onlookers.