Phantom Of The Masquerade

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I began dressing myself for the masquerade ball. I donned a black button up shirt and an iridescent silver vest. I finished the outfit with a pair of polished black dress shoes. I grabbed the black cape with a white Phantom Of The Opera mask for design that the outfit came with, and tied it under the collar of my button up. As a finishing touch, I added my Phantom Of The Opera like mask on. It covered .my face from my hairline to the bridge of my nose. The left side of the mask swooped down my cheek and jaw line while the other side didn’t. I checked myself over in the mirror, my long, wet, black hair swept back, my slightly tanned skin clear, and my 5 o’clock shadow adding to the outfit.

Walking to the kitchen, I made myself a drink of whiskey on the rocks and called a cabby to pick me up. I sipped at the drink, then shot the rest back as I heard the cab driver beep to announce his arrival.

I looked out the window and saw the cabby waiting outside. I walked to the cab, before hopping in, telling him my destination, which was across town, and giving him the money for the drive. He turned on some classical music which I appreciated, and I sat back, waiting to arrive at the ball.

Twenty minutes later, I thanked the cabby for the ride, and stepped onto the sidewalk of the house the ball was being held at. House was a bit of an understatement, as it held five stories, it’s own bar, and a pool in the backyard. A mansion, more like.

This had been one of many times I had gone to this ball, as it was held every year. The location changed, but the guests were usually the same. It was a nice night to let yourself go without fear of being ridiculed, or something getting back to your boss.

I opened the large doors of the house and smiled as I saw the sight the mansion held. A crowd of masked strangers talked and danced, some dressed as burlesque performers, some as business men, but all having a great time.

A few people greeted me as I walked to the bar, and ordered myself a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, it was something I loved. The bartender smiled and nodded, grabbing an ice pick and breaking some ice chunks from the block they had in the open freezer, and poured me my drink. I thanked him and tipped him a twenty, as I knew the drinks were free. He smiled and thanked me, and I nodded at him and told him it was no problem.

The bartender tended to his other customers, and I sat at the bar, on the red and silver swiveling stool, and watched the crowd. I had always loved people watching, but it was even better when you didn’t know who you were watching.

I noticed a woman who I hadn’t seen there before, donned in a tight, sparkling, red dress. Accompanying the dress was a black garter belt, fishnet stockings, as well as a pair of impossibly long legs and red heels, but no mask.

The unnamed woman was chatting with two masked men. One of them stood behind her, pressing into her, holding her hips. The other pressed against her from the front, nibbling on her earlobe and whispering into her ear as she laughed.

I watched the throuple for a while. I saw that at some point she had a glass of red wine, while one man held a beer bottle, the other with a glass of clear liquid, probably vodka. I turned to the barkeeper and confirmed my suspicions, before paying him to get the same drinks. When the three’s drinks had been drained, I asked the bartender to send them the drinks from me.

The bartender went into the back and brought out a silver tray with a red lace doily. Another barkeeper came out and tended to the other patrons, as the man put the drinks on the tray and slipped out of the bar, walking to the throuple.

He laid the tray on a table next to them and gave then each their drink. The bartender said something to the group, probably telling them who had given them the drinks, before picking up the tray and walking back. I nodded to him and thanked him, and turned back to the couple.

All three were looking in my direction, and whispering to themselves. I grabbed my drink and slowly sipped it, looking at other people at the bar.

A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my trance. I looked up to see the throuple standing in front of me.

The woman smiled and said with a French accent, “Oh, Phantom Of The Opera man. I like.”

Her accent was thick, and I could tell she had most likely been born in France and migrated here, keeping her accent.

I chuckled in response, and one of the men, one with blonde hair, added, “Thank you for the drinks, sir.”

I nodded and asked them to sit. They did. The man with blonde hair sat, the woman on his lap, and the other man, with dark brown hair peppered with gray stood behind them, leaning into the two.

I chatted with the two, while the man behind them stayed silent. I didn’t push him to speak, as I knew that it was bad etiquette at these events to push someone to reveal anything, even their voice.

After a while of talking, the man finally spoke up during a lull in our conversation.

“We noticed that you were looking at us,” he stated.

“I bursa escort was,” I simply replied.

The woman looked at me from her seat in the blonde man’s lap, and asked, “Why was that? I saw you people watching for quite a while, but you seemed to take a liking to us.”

I chuckled and looked at her specifically before replying, “Would you like to take a guess?”

She looked back with the same intensity, and the men around her seemed to be staring at me with an incredulous expression. I assumed she must have been a woman of power, and they were shocked that I spoke to her the way I did. But here, power meant nothing unless you captured it.

“Mm,” the French woman responded, “Would you like to join us three, Mister?”

I smirked at her and looked at the other men.

I shook my head in response.

The men’ eyes seemed almost pop out of their skulls in that moment when I turned the woman down, but I knew what I was doing in that moment.

The woman smirked at me and stood up. The blonde man under her did the same, and the two men stiff behind her. The woman’s fingers danced down my elbow to my hand, and she scratched at my palm lightly, before walking away, her men in tow.

I watched her walk off, her thin body swaying away, her short curly blonde hair bouncing with her.

They went back to their original place, and the woman said something. The men replied looking a bit oddly at the woman. The blonde man seemed rather taken aback by whatever proposal the woman had asked. The woman, in all her glory, grabbed his striped tie, and pulled him into her. She bit his lip and sucked on it, before letting go and disappearing into a corridor. The men glanced at each other, before following.

I sat and finished my drink, before standing and mingling with a few other guests. Some were flirty, other friendly, but I kept the hall the throuple had walked down in my vision at all times.

Eventually, after about an hour of mingling with others, I walked away from the groups and down the hall. One of the doors was slightly, ajar. Through the gap, I saw the woman in the red dress, kneeling on the satin, burgundy covered bed. Her dress had been bunched around her waist, revealing her small breasts, and dark pink nipples, as well as some of her flat, pale white stomach. I stood there, savoring my first look at the woman’s half-naked form.

She had a hand wrapped around the blonde man’s member, his pants around his thighs, and his cock slipped out of the hole in his boxers. She stroked it to full length, and I heard a zipper come undone. The man with peppered hair came into view then, his soft cock in view now as well. She used her other hand and brought him to full length as well. The French woman, then, began engulfing the knob of the blonde man’s cock in her mouth, before doing the same to the peppered haired man as well.

I, unannounced, opened the door and pulled it fully shut. The woman looked up from the hard cocks beside her, and saw me. She smiled and went back to the peppered haired man’s member.

I felt my own dick stiffening in my dress pants, watching the woman giving these two pleasures, her small breasts jiggling in response to one of the men fucking her mouth. The room filled with nothing but wet, sucking noises, as the woman brought one of her hands to her hard nipple and began tweaking and tugging at it. She moaned around one of the men’s cock and began alternatively sucking their cocks, even bringing them together once to suck them at the same time. My member tented my pants, as I watched the three.

The French woman had clearly down this before.

I settled into a chair fit for a king in the corner of the room, and decided to watch the show. The woman continued sucking each of the two men’ cocks. She made use of her hands then as well; Clawing at their thighs, cupping their testicles, and using her hand as a substitute for the other when her mouth wasn’t available.

I watched for a while, my pants becoming tighter and tighter as time went on. The peppered haired man was currently occupying the woman’s mouth. He eventually groaned as she took his member as deep into her throat as she could, and pumped his seed into her mouth. Her eyes watered as she sucked and swallowed greedily at the man’s cock. When he withdrew, a ropey string of cum stretched from the tip of his cock to her lips. It broke, falling down her chin.

The woman didn’t bother to wipe it off before she began sucking the blonde man’s cock next.

The peppered haired man zipped up his pants, and sent me a glance. He smirked before walking out the door, letting out softly close behind him.

The French woman’s remaining counterpart wrapped his hand in her short, curly, blonde hair, and began pounding into her mouth. A few minutes later, he clamped his hands behind her head and filled her mouth with his seed as well. When he finished, he released her, and she gasped out a breath, some of his cum dribbling down her chin. The man did the same as the first, pulling his pants up, giving escort bursa me a wink, and leaving.

The woman collapsed on the bed, then. Her mascara running a bit, her red lipstick smeared, and her lips puffy and swollen. Her dress was still bunched around her waist, and her stockings were still in place thanks to the black garter belt she wore. She closed her eyes for a moment, then.

I got out of my seat, and took to the window. I let the black, silk curtains fall to the floor, and turned on a lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. It illuminated the room, showing the woman’s hazel eyes slightly covered by her long lashes, staring up at me.

“They were, how you say, co-workers…” The French woman told me.

I looked at her in that moment. Her pale skin adorned with birthmarks, her messy short hair, her bloodshot eyes, her long legs, all of her perfections.

“We had helped each other with our wardrobe, so we knew what each other looked like,” the woman, again, told me, “I saw you looking at us, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes on me made me feel so sexy.”

I gave a half-smirk before walking closer to her.

“When you bought all three of us drinks, I knew you saw us as a couple. But I wanted you to know that I wanted you,” she explained, “And when you told me you didn’t want to join us, I knew you wanted me then, so I asked them to join me here.”

I stayed silent, walking closer to her open legs that dangled off of the side of the bed.

“I had hoped you would follow us, and you did,” she simply said then, before continuing, “They were just boys, them. They took what I gave them. But I know you’re a man. You’ll take everything I have to offer, yes?”

I merely nodded, and grabbed the sides of her dress, pulling it completely off of her. She bit her bottom lip as I got on my knees and took her heels off, unclipped her stockings and garter belt, before rolling them off of her.

I looked up at her. She had one finger in her lips and she bit it, her other hand on her chest, rolling her nipple between her fingers. I chuckled and scooted closer between her legs, still on my knees. She looked down at me with arousal in her hazel colored eyes, and spoke, “Phantom man?”

I looked up from her glistening pink center to her eyes.

“Are you going to-” were the only words that exited her mouth before my thumb stroked down her slit.

I smirked and watched as she arched her back, and mumbled something in French. She didn’t look down at me then, instead, her eyes stayed shut tight. She whimpered as I felt her dampness. Her thighs quivered slightly and I knew she wanted to say something. I inhaled the scent of her heated core, and kissed her inner thigh, showing her that she could speak then, and I wouldn’t go farther without her approval.

“I-I’ve never had a man want to…” She began to say.

I let my hand cup her mound, her soft, blonde hairs tickling my hand. An untamed jungle ripe for exploring.

She didn’t speak after that, instead wrapping a leg around my shoulder, and closing her eyes, letting me have my way with her.

I let one of my fingers explore her soft skin, parting her lips and letting it disappear inside her. Leaning in, I placed light kisses on her outer lips. Her breathing hitched slightly, and I let a finger slip inside her. I rhythmically pushed my finger in and out of her, looking up at her as she bit her lip, quiet, but with shaky, audible breaths.

I used my free hand to spread her lips again. Her clit was hard, showing itself from its hood, and I couldn’t resist it any longer. I sucked her clit between my lips and let my tongue go over it, again and again, bathing it in spit.

“Ooh…” sighed the French woman.

Her hand wandered down to me, and she ran her fingers through my long black hair. For a moment I felt my mask being tugged on and I looked up at her with hard eyes, telling her through them that I was to stay unnamed. I felt the tug lessen, and her grip on my hair tighten. Her slit became slick with my saliva and her own juices, as I worked her clit with my tongue and her hole with my finger.

While continuing my torture in her trapped clit, I slipped another finger inside her and felt around for the spongey texture of that special little spot inside her. That special little spot that if I rubbed with my fingers just right…

“Oh Gods!” I heard the thin, French woman beneath my tongue shriek.

She convulsed suddenly, her groin grinding against my face. I used my one free hand to hold her down and continued my assault on her clit, and now her G-spot, as she writhed sound uncontrollably.

“Mmmm, oh lords…” She babbled out, before I felt her thighs clamp around my head.

I let her ride out her orgasm my tongue still on her clit, but my fingers now just delicately dancing around her entrance. When her orgasm finally ended, her thighs unstiffened, and I felt her hand push me back a bit. I leaned back, releasing her clit and removing my hand. Looking up at her, I saw her with a death grip on escort bursa her own chest, biting her lip, with her back arched.

“Mm…” She finally said when she had calmed down.

“W-what may I call you?” she asked me.

Getting up from my kneeling position, I smirked at her. I crawled on top of her, and used my hands to hold me up. My mouth molded to hers and I let my tongue dance inside her mouth. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and we shared a passion-filled kiss.

“I’m just a Phantom Of The Masquerade, darling.” I told her when our lips detached, speaking to her for the first time.

She looked into my eyes and smiled, pulling me back in for another kiss.

When our lips finally separated, she was panting slightly, and I felt the fabric of my thigh dampening as she grinded onto it.

“Monsieur Phantom?” she voiced, her French accent thick with sex.

“Yes?” I asked her.

“How shall I reward you for doing such beautiful things to me?” she inquired.

I smiled against her lips and stood up finally.

“I have an idea,” I stated.

I unbuttoned my silver vest and black button up, letting them fall open. The French woman gave a small smile and stood up then too. She came up to me and let a hand wander into my open shirt, caressing my muscled chest. She rested her head on my shoulder and drew small patterns on my bare skin, making me freeze.

“Monsieur Phantom?” she asked again.

I reserved myself to silence, only looking down at her.

“I’d like to make you feel the way I felt,” she told me.

I smiled at her, and took her into my arms. Leaning down, I rested my lips against her neck and kissed her, while I slipped my shirt off. When it finally came off, I felt her nails lightly scratch my stomach, and I shivered, pulling back a bit.

“May I see you the way you see me, Monsieur?” she asked me.

My eyebrow arched, unsure of what she meant.

She looked down at her body, and then at mine, before telling me, “I want to see all of you, Monsieur Phantom.”

I nodded and laid her down gently on the bed again, before working my pants and boxers down. I had been so focused on making her cum from my tongue that I didn’t realize how much my own cock was aching for touch. It stood at attention, rock hard.

The French woman bit her lip, and determined, “You’re even bigger than the other..”

I plainly said, “I know.”

I grabbed her hips and guided her to sit on top of me. She climbed onto me, my cock nestled between her lips but not inside her just yet.

“Do you want me to-” the French woman began to say, before I cut her off.

“Shh…” I said to her, “Let Monsieur take care of you.”

She nodded, and I bent my knees, pushing her a bit so she leaned against my legs. Once she was in the position I wanted her to be in, I bent forward and kissed quickly, before begin my descent down. I nibbled at her earlobes, then kissed down her jaw. Once I made it down her jaw, I kissed her neck, biting slightly, feeling her breath quicken. I did the same to her collar bones, before finally getting where I wanted to be. I kissed down her firm, small chest, before taking one of her nipples into my mouth.

“O-ohhh…” I heard her stutter.

I worried her nipple with my tongue before removing my lips and blowing cold air on it, then did the same to her other nipple. She shivered and leaned forward a bit, grinding against my cock. I grunted slightly, causing vibrations to pass from my lips to her sensitive nipples. She whimpered and laced her hand into my hair, tugging slightly. I removed my mouth from her breasts and looked up at her.

“I’m ready for more, please Monsieur,” she told me, her voice thick with pleads and begging.

I nodded and slinked a hand between us, holding my rock hard member, and positioning the tip to touch her wet hole. As she slowly sank down onto my cock, we both sighed in pleasure. I leaned up and kissed her neck, my rugged chest pressed against her small, soft breasts, as I greedily inhaled the scent of the sex in the air.

After a few minutes, she moaned loudly, and pushed me down. She held me down with her hands on my chest as she humped up and down on my cock, grinding her clit against me at the end of each stroke.

I couldn’t help but groan as she quickened her place. My gaze latched onto her face as she moaned in pleasure, her skin developing a sheen of sweat. She opened her eyelids slightly, looking at me and breathing heavily.

She leaned towards slightly until we pressed together, and I sat up, pumping into her. Her nipples pressed against me, feeling like bullets.

I grunted and grabbed her tight, firm ass, squeezing hard. She groaned loudly and ground down into my cock, harder than before. I felt her walls clench around my member as she dug her finger nails into my chest. She whimpered loudly, and she came on my cock.

I couldn’t hold out any longer. Groaning loud enough to shake both of us, my balls tightened and my cock released its cum inside her. We both laid there, panting for a moment, before I rolled us both over and got up. I felt her eyes on me as I slowly rediscovered my discarded clothes and put them on. I pulled on my boxers and pants, before getting into my button up and vest, leaving them unbuttoned while I slipped on my shoes.

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