Ursa realized she expected a wild orgy to break out as she stood with her wine in hand, watching the mingling people. Sex party is what Marcie had said. Not that she knew what to expect at such a thing, except for the faceless, meaningless sex, of course. Hell, she’d half-expected the women in the limo to come on to her and the ride to explode into a wild lesbian six-way.
Even the sex parties in Ursa’s life were boring.
As she finished with her wine, she began to see the pattern happening between pairs, and sometimes trios and quads. Conversations moved from friendly to cozy with more covert touches than a normal party might allow. Then after a quiet exchange, a token would be offered and accepted with an air of ritual while the recipients would affix the tokens to themselves. More often than not, the group would then slip from the room and vanish through the archway or up the stairs to explore activities outside the busy foyer.
Not so busy now, though. The boldest women and men had made their choices and taken their partners off to enjoy themselves. There were still people mingling in the room, though they seemed less interested in sex than visiting and she had the impression that they were familiar with each other. Regulars. She’d watched one man turn down four offers. All beautiful women in outfits that inspired the imagination—a peacock, a leopard, a swan and a woman clad in silken flames. After the fourth politely departed, the man lounged awkwardly back into his seat with an air of forced relaxation.
Oh yeah, she’d been watching him. She’d watched a lot of the people, though. He just happened to be there longer than most of the others. Also, he was the most interesting. His skin was so dark, like polished walnut. In contrast, the creamy feathers of his mask seemed to glow. Black eyes glinted with amusement behind his concealment but didn’t touch his serious, pouted lips. His chest was bare except for a leather strap across his muscular pecs and his abs looked hard enough that she was sure she could bounce a dime off them. Around his hips, he wore a Romanesque leather skirt that left most of his powerful legs exposed. Small, tawny falcon wings were attached at his shoulders. At his sandaled feet lay an oversized bow, and she’d seen the quiver packed with pink arrows attached to the strap. It looked as though someone had lathered him up in oil before presenting the giant dark cupid for display.
Earlier his couch had been full, but by now the others had departed and he cut an intimidating, lone figure. After the multiple rejections of suitors, no one seemed willing to come speak with him. Definitely not her. Even if he were fully dressed, she would end up putting both feet down her throat trying to come up with something cool to say to him.
When another quad made their departure, she decided to explore and moved to exit the room as well. She couldn’t just stand there all night staring at the handsome cupid. It was starting to get embarrassing. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she could feel his intense stare sharpen against her as she walked by his couch. Was that the soft creak of the springs and wood as he shifted forward? Hiding behind her mask, feeling her blush scald her cheeks, she didn’t dare look over at him. If she didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to be disappointed by his respectful rejection.
Leaving her empty glass with one of the attendants, she headed to the arched doorway and heard louder voices laughing in the room beyond. Drawn by the sound, she came into the living room, which opened onto a balcony. Both double doors were open to the deepening twilight. A small group was gathered there chatting. Several people looked up and waved to her and she noticed they had slim slips of paper in hand. There was Peacock and Leopard, whom she recalled from the list of rejected by the Cupid.
As Ursa drew closer, she noticed several men lounging on the floor by the women, rubbing their feet. Simple masks concealed their faces but their bodies were nude except for the Speedo-type loincloth that kept them modest. Modest, except when the women rubbed those glamorous toes against their stiff arousals. Suddenly, Ursa wished she’d had the boldness to offer her token to someone.
“Come make a wager on the ponies?” Peacock asked, the sequins twinkling in the lights of the candles.
“Ponies?” Ursa asked and gave a small shake of her head.
“There will be a race in the morning,” Peacock said, reaching forward to smooth her fingers through the copper curls of her partner’s hair. “You can have a look at the stock and see who you think will be fastest.”
“Do I get to look at their teeth, too?” Ursa asked, feeling a smile widen her lips.
One of the men leaned forward and grinned at her, showing his straight, white teeth, and made a realistic horse sound.
“Don’t encourage the brutes. They are barely tame!” Leopard sounded imperious as she focused on Ursa. “You’re alone?”
She pursed her lips. “Yes. I haven’t found the right partner yet.”
“Well, you have to adjust when there’s rejection. Don’t worry, they are a bit wild the first night. You are better off waiting until the guests are looking to trade down to mix things up. I’m Kitten, and this is Peacock. This is Hare and Hound. Stag and Dragon will be out there looking for their stables, I’m sure. Or perhaps out having some fun training, I daresay.”
Trade down. Is that what I am? Fitting only for sloppy seconds? Cold embarrassment made Ursa take a small step back, just in time to see the dark shadow of the Cupid come strolling gracefully into the room. He looked around, scanning the area until he spotted her. She thought she saw the flash of teeth against the darkness when he caught her eye.
“Oh, there’s a wild one,” Leopard said, her sarcasm cutting a nasty undertone.
“He’s a limp dick,” Peacock replied with an uplift of her chin and a cold smile.
The venom was so unexpected, even the pair of men at their feet paused in the foot rubbing, twisting around to see who they were talking about.
“The Archer?” Hound asked and then chuckled, shaking his head. “Damn. If you say so. You weren’t with him at the last—ughn!” He let out a squeal of pain as Peacock grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his head back.
Ursa remembered the vivid pink arrows packed into the quiver. It was a fair title, but with his wings, cupid seemed more fitting. Before she could ask about the name, Peacock grabbed the man by the hair.
“We say so,” Peacock whispered, pulling his head back and smiling coldly at the man.
His eyes rolled and he moaned thickly, arching into the pull, lips trembling. “Yes. Yes, of c-course!”
“Good boy. Now, resume the foot rub and I might forgive you and later…reward you.”
Cupid didn’t appear to hear the conversation but he noticed the display and hair pulling. His footsteps slowed before the smile fell away. He took in the others in attendance before turning, jaw tightening as he continued into the next room. She must have imagined his smile. It couldn’t have been directed at her.
The mixture of excitement and jealousy made the air around the women crackle and Ursa stared at the coppery-haired man who bowed over the feet of the lady, kissing Peacock’s foot. He sucked her painted toes with a low, desperate-sounding croon. The speedo strained against the length of his cock, his hips rocking as he tried to give proper apology for his mistake.
Ursa pulled her gaze away and murmured an excuse before stepping back. No one noticed or stopped her as she turned and walked from the room, leaving the pony crowd to their wagering and foot fetishes.
She didn’t want to run into Cupid or anyone else right then. Her head buzzed with speculations regarding her party invitation. She and Marcie had been friends ever since the woman had stumbled into the bookstore where Ursa worked, searching for information about the BDSM lifestyle. Marcie had struggled with balancing her desires and her high-profile career and life. Ursa found herself drawn to the concepts she learned while locating books. They formed their friendship on mutual exploration on an intellectual level. Surely her friend wouldn’t invite her only to be filler.
Still, Ursa floundered, far beyond the limits of her comfort zone. Sh
e did not jump into experimenting like Marcie. It was one thing to have a fantasy about rough sex and being in control and another to act on those urges. Should she just find a doorman and get a ride back home?
Ducking her head into the hall, she saw a couple making out against a wall but otherwise the space was fairly empty. Past the hall, she found a staircase and walked up it, passing another few pairs enjoying the semi-public make-out spots. One couple along the stairway wasn’t making any effort to hide their passion from anyone who passed. Ursa felt a thrill run through her at being the voyeur.
“She’s watching you,” she heard the woman growl into the man’s ear and he moaned, arching toward the woman desperately, as though he might hide himself in her velvet skirts. “Oh no, don’t hide from her. She wants to see you.”
Oh, Ursa did want to see him. The man’s bare back was facing her. His muscular shoulders were sculpted and hard. He wore a mask like a ram with curving horns that got lost in his honey-colored hair, and when he tipped his head toward her, she saw the gleam of bright green eyes in the candlelight. A shudder ran through him and he arched his hips. The woman drew away then, letting Ursa have a full glimpse of his cock, standing at attention and slick with wetness.
They were close enough for her to smell their hot sex. Heady musk and sweat and the sweet tang of perfume of the lovely pair of them. Ursa couldn’t look away. The woman murmured a throaty laugh and purred. “Oohhh yesss! You like her watching us, don’t you?” the woman in the star mask whispered, adjusting her spangled skirts and flashing a view of her glossy pussy lips as she slid her thigh along his.
His stomach tightened and his cock bobbed lewdly, pre-cum drooling down the length while her long fingers stroked him and guided him to her sex. When the head nuzzled over her clit, the woman moaned and her legs widened. She leaned back into the wall for support and the man’s strong hands grasped one of her slim thighs and coaxed it up, moving her heel to her shoulder, spreading her wide as his cock plunged into her.
The slap of his hips meeting hers echoed in the stairway, and lower down, she heard the soft moan of pleasure from the other couple she’d passed. Ursa wanted to slide her hands under her short skirt and find her wet pussy to ease the tangled heat there, but she couldn’t allow herself that pleasure.
Instead she watched the couple fuck on the stairway, mesmerized. The way the woman was spread, she could see every inch slide in and out of her pink, eager cunt. That was far better than any porn she’d seen. The couple really enjoyed the sex and they weren’t doing it for pay. Not doing it for any other reason than the pleasure they enjoyed.
His tight ass clenched and he arched upward, thrust in deeper, balls slapping against the woman’s ass as he spread her wider and moaned at the impact. The wet glide of his length drew out almost to the head where he paused a beat before driving forward, and letting the woman’s body drop to plunge into her. They moaned together at the sweet union and he began to claim her faster, the fat length of cock pistoning in and out as the woman’s moans became growls as she demanded, “More! Harder!”
He groaned as his back arched over her and he slammed into her harder, arching and circling his hips with the deep stroke before drawing back, letting the head slurp free of her and driving in again, making her scream in pleasure, “Harder! Oh yes!”
Ursa’s hand moved to her breast and she found the soft flesh in her palm, the nipple so tight it ached under the layers of soft fabric. She wanted it harder, too. So primal and deep, until she couldn’t walk! Her panties were getting soaked from her need and she knew she wouldn’t have an outlet for it. It would just spiral tighter and tighter until she took care of herself.
“I’m so close! Please don’t stop! Oh fuck, don’t stop!” The woman whimpered between the cries of pleasure and the slapping of balls against her slippery skin.
“That’s right. Come for me, baby. Come with me. I want your silky little pussy to milk my cock dry! Fuck!” The man in the ram mask gripped the woman’s thigh, squeezing the flesh, making the tawny skin dimple under his grip as he fucked her against the wall. He slammed her back and she moaned, clawing fingers down his back, incoherent in her desire for him to take. And he did take, hips bruising against hers until the smacking of his thrusts filled the stairwell, mingling with the cries and screams of pleasure and pain from them and from the other couples, unseen but also enjoying the not-so-private place.
The woman arched back, hair caught in the man’s fist as he pressed her into the wall and the scream of pleasure spilled from her. Her bare breast bounced free of the layers of cloth, nipple hard and pink before the man’s lips wrapped around the bud of flesh, suckling it deeper into his mouth with a swirl of tongue. The climax made her face flush as pink as the nipple, her breaths sharp and whimpering as he fucked her faster and harder through the pleasure of her orgasm.
His groan escaped, muffled around her breast, his hands gripping her harder as his body tensed, the thrusts growing unsteady before a wild spasm ran through him, making him lurch wildly, pinning her into the wall more violently as he joined her in climax. The creamy trickle of cum trailed down his thighs and hers as they stayed joined there against the wall, gasping for breath and sharing a hungry, sweaty kiss.
Ursa moaned too, squeezing her eyes closed after watching the couple rocking back and forth several times together in that perfect union. Her hips rocked and she replayed the image of the man arching and jerking as he came, grasping tightly to the woman as his cum must have filled her eager pussy.
Damn!
“That’s pretty hot. Right?” a voice beside her asked. It sounded so low it was almost pure vibration. The unexpected closeness of the person made Ursa jump, her eyes snapping open wide as she whirled toward the speaker.
The dark Cupid grinned down at her. God, he was massive! She stared into the center of his perfect, muscular chest before tipping her head back to blink up at his mask. He smelled like a chocolate cream pie. The depth of her desire to lick him until her tongue was raw overwhelmed her! He only smiled wider as she gawked up at him. Then she realized she still groped her own breast and forced her hand away, gripping her fingers together.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Lady Owl,” he said politely, staying close in her personal space, but not touching her. “Sorry.”
“N-no, it’s okay.” She managed to get the words out, though she was jittery, jelly- legged and desperate to get out of there. How long had he been watching? From the appraising look, she thought it must have been a little while. She was far too focused on the scene and its sweet completion.
“You like to watch?” he asked, dark eyes searching hers.
She blushed and stammered, which made his smile widen. She couldn’t get any words out.
“Like to…show?” he asked, voice dropping into an even deeper octave. The vibration made her suck in a sharp breath. The scent of him, all chocolate heat, filled her senses.
“I… I don’t know,” she admitted and tried to look away, except that she couldn’t.
Cupid smiled so sweetly at her.
“You’re all alone,” he said sadly. “Me, too.” His hand moved to his chest, splaying the long fingers against the gleaming skin as he watched her, as though to indicate his lack of a token.
“I saw you turn down several offers,” she blurted and then sucked her lower lip into her mouth. “I should go.”
He didn’t reach out to stop her, and she couldn’t read his emotion behind the mask. “I was hoping someone more to my taste would offer me a token,” he said as she started to turn away.
She really needed to continue on her way and escape, but his words gave her pause and she found her feet dragging. The couple arranged themselves, putting clothes right so they might continue on their way. Glancing up, she met the gaze of the woman, who smiled in encouragement.
“W-what sort of tastes do you have?”
“Oh, I get off on a woman with curves, who knows how to use them.” He smiled warmly at her.
Right at her. And his heavy-lidded eyes raked over her curves.
“I-I don’t…uh… You know, no big ol’ breasts and…” It wasn’t possible for her to blush any more than she was already. “I don’t really know…”
“You’re here with all the power, and you could ask any man or woman present to show you a good time, and you turn us all down? That makes me very curious.”
“I don’t…want to get rejected,” she admitted.
He appeared thoughtful for a moment and then suggested, “You could try it out on me. You know, if you get rejected, you try again on someone else. Unless you need alone time. I don’t mean to intrude if you’re…just watching.”
Did she want to spend the evening just watching? She looked the man over and thought of all the ways she’d like to ease her ache right now. Surely he was teasing her. It felt like a setup for disappointment. She glanced around, but the couple had moved on and it was only the huge, winged archer and her.
“Would you like to be my partner tonight?” she asked, feeling the words stammer out in a nervous rush.
“Yes,” he stated firmly and inclined his head, grinning. “I would.” One big hand extended to her, palm up, and he winked behind the mask.
“Y-you would?” She blinked hard up at him and he laughed.
“Yes,” he said again. “You’re not just teasing me, right? Building me up only to dash my hopes?”
“No! Of course not.” She laughed suddenly and reached into the clutch, drawing out one of the tokens. She dropped it into his palm. His smile softened.
“You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, pretty Owl?” He affixed the token to his leather strap and beamed down at her. “I might beg, though.”
“I might enjoy hearing you beg,” she admitted and then sucked at her lower lip when he rumbled a low, silken chuckle. Fuck, he was just too delicious.
Wicked Masquerade Page 2
