You bite your lip as you stare at the stranger across the room. The ball was a bit of a bore until he walked in. His chiseled chin, smug smile and goatee were perfection . The rest of his facial features were hidden by a black mask, resembling the mask of Zorro but a bit bigger. Your costume is a 1800's ballroom gown, royal blue with black trim. Short sleeves hang off of your shoulders. Your brown curls hang loosely over your bare neck and collarbone. Three strands of pearls adorn your neck, ending between your ample bosom. Who was this stranger ? I'd like to to kiss that smug smile off of his face...
Dressed in a high collared jacket, waistcoat, and breeches that reaches slightly below his knee, he carefully chose the colors to ensure it would represent the evening's tone. While a ball, it was not mardi gras, and one has to be cognizant of such things. This, after all it was the modern 18th century in New Orleans. In the background, the band is playing a soothing Vienna waltz. The banter with the graceful, charming lady on his arm is light, witty and charming, but he bores quickly as she is but a social butterfly with no substance. As he deposits her gracefully at the bar, he retrieves a glass of chardonnay. Sweeping the room in search of better conversation, his eyes comes into contact with yours, and remains for a slightly longer moment than polite. You smile in return, and taking this as encouragement, he walks towards you.
In your eyes, he almost resembles a cat after its prey, as he crosses the crowded room, and even before the thought dissipates, he is next to you. You seem to melt in his powerful gaze, and you offer your hand to him for a longer than acceptable tender kiss. You draw a deeper breath and quiver within. As your body betrays the lust raging through it, you squeeze your legs together hoping for some semblance of control.
Mademoiselle, if not for you, this evening would indeed be a dismal affair. I am Jonathan. My I have the pleasure of your first name? Amy, you say but it comes across dry lips as a mere whisper. Damn! your nervousness is so obvious! Ah, Amy, such a unique name. Surely you must be from the North? And the banter goes on. While words come to your mouth automatically, your thoughts are racing about other things. Is he good looking behind the mask, he looks strong, and those wonderfully muscular legs, is it your imagination or is his manhood getting larger?.......
The gardens are beautiful this time of the night, he says. Perhaps a stroll to get better acquainted? Even as he speaks, he guides you towards the french doors, and before you realize it, onto a patch dimly light by flickering torches. As you both approach a gazebo, you hold onto his arm for balance going up the steps. The assist turns into an embrace, and you willingly submit as his lips touches yours.
As your lips are crushed and your body was pulled flush against his vested chest you let out a soft sigh of pleasure and anticipation.
“Jonathan, you surprised me. Showing up at my side mere moments ago and we’re already embraced. What if another member of the ball spies us?” You asked breathlessly, your porcelain cheeks flushed pink adding to your radiant youth and beauty. Your brilliant blue eyes glances around and you realized it is too dark for anyone to see you so you feverishly moved to kiss him again parting your lips to push your warm tongue forward testing his self control as you push your large breasts tight against your corset and dress into him.
Your bold moves excites and encourages him, and he fences with your tongue, sucking on it, pushing his own back into your warm wet mouth. You moan, and taking it as further encouragement, his right hand reaches to hold one ample breast, squeezing and fondling it. You remain locked in this embrace for a few minutes, kissing, tasting each other, taking in each other's sexual energy, until unable to contain your lust, you trust your pelvis against his erect member.
He soon tires of this and glances around to ensure that there is still had privacy. After all being caught fornicating with the host's favorite daughter would result in severe consequences. Impatient to feel your flesh, he pulls you closer, if it were possible, and raises your ballooned skirt. You part your legs just slightly, and to his surprise, you has no drawers underneath. Mademoiselle, you are such a bold woman he says, as his hand reaches to touch the warmth and moist spot between your legs.
The hair on the back of your neck rises as your body reacts to his every touch with eagerness and wanting. “Bold? I am simply following your stride. Had I attempted to deny you a moment longer you may have very well taken me in the ballroom. As much as I would have loved to see the shock on all of their faces I would much rather get to enjoy all of you in private. Wouldn’t you agree?” When he flashed another daring grin and began stretching his fingers inside your tight warm entrance, you feel your legs trembling and pull him with you further into the gazebo before dropping to your knees in front of him. Pressing your fingers against the bulge in his pants, you lick your lips as he continues to stroke you. You beg him to let you taste his aching member. “I’ve been starved all day let me taste your flesh”
You release his staff, and the combination of cool summer air around his shaft. plus the warmth of your wet mouth engulfing his manhood, provides a wonderful and pleasurable sensation. Just when he settles into the rhythm of your tongue, you place a hand on each thigh for leverage, and pull him deeper into your mouth. Applying suction, your head moves towards his groin until his entire shaft disappears into your mouth. You stay for a few moments.letting him feel the softness of your throat, before moving your head back. In the dim light, his manhood glistens with your saliva. Letting him ravish your mouth, you begin to pleasure Jonathan. Unable to contain himself, he holds your head, and begins to match you stroke for stroke.
Laughter drifts from the direction of the ballroom, and footsteps can be heard from the pathway whence you came! Quickly, you stand up, and he deftly stands behind to avoid embarrassment. To his consternation, you grab his throbbing manhood firmly with one gloved hand. Not only do you refuse to let go, you begin to very calmly stroke it.
Relief displaces fear and trepidation , as the voices dissipate, another amorous couple no doubt in search of privacy and pleasure.
Not wanting to lose the moment, he lifts your skirts, and spreads your legs apart. Without hesitation, you guide him towards the entrance of your soaking wet, waiting flesh, and places the tip just at the entrance. Unable to further contain himself, yet realizing that if he takes it slow now, you will give him all he wants, he pushes himself in inch by tantalizing inch, until he bottoms out at your cervix. In response, your hot tunnel squeezes him. This in turn causing him to pulse. He pulls out, again slowly, and you moan, missing the sensation of being filled. Once more, he enters you, this time with gusto. He begins to take your now in long hard strokes. You now push back each time he enters, and reaches between your legs to rub that sensitive button between the folds of your flesh to increase your pleasure.
Please, harder, take me, make me your play thing..........make meeee.......your wanton words encourages him, and his tempo increases. The excitement of almost being getting caught, together with the wicked pleasure of being used like a street whore is too much to bear, and with a loud moan, you cum, squeezing his member with all your strength, as if to milk him. This triggers him to reach for his own orgasm, until with wild abandonment, he spurts, flooding your tunnel with his cum. Mixed with your juices, his cum drips out of your soaking wet tunnel, and finally as the pace slows, he pulls out. As a reward, you once more kneel, and clean him with your mouth and tongue, licking every bit of your combined juices off his manhood.
