The Gala

I couldn’t stifle the gasp and lost any cool points I had gawking at the ballroom. Black silk drapes cascaded from the ceiling, wraped around the columns along the border, creating dark billowy clouds throughout the room. White tablecloths adorned round tables, accented by splashes of red and gold. Crystal chandeliers sparkled from the soft glow of candlelight. Not real candles of course, this was the 21st century after all, and fires were expensive. The rest of the room dripped in authenticity and affluence. Nothing, besides the candles, were fake. There were no paper crepes streamers, balloons or cheap banners anywhere. I was well beyond trivia night at O’Byrne’s pub.

Insecurity started to creep in the more I absorbed the level of wealth saturating the room. This was easily a $10K per plate event, with the attendees paying more in taxes per year than I made as income. Standing in faded denim jeans and an Old Navy t-shirt I was out of my element in this room. An imposter. Not on the official invite list, simply a plus one. Thinking of the black, off the rack dress in my bag, with the costume jewelry accessories I knew that feeling was unlikely to change when the gala kicked off later tonight. My fingers trail over the silk chair covers, as I inspected the centre pieces. Antique candelabras surrounded by wreaths of black lilies and red roses. Real ones. This was no mock masquerade, but one taken right from the history books. 

I heard the clack of her heels before I saw her. Molly, the reason I was here, stepped next to me, phone in one hand and a black leather portfolio in the other. The phone was her lifeline, but the portfolio was her bible for this event, and every event she planned. Inside held sketches of set ups, floor plans, costumes, color schemes, itineraries, guest lists and seating arrangements. I couldn’t imagine the amount of time and effort she put in to plan this event, and it wasn’t even the only event she was coordinating right now. As the city’s elite party planner, Molly was in high demand. Looking around the room I could see why. Working for the rich and famous had perks, like no budget and the command to make it ostentatious, and she was the master at making flamboyant extravaganzas out of a concept. Like this one: an Italian masquerade, circa 16^th century. 

That was where I came in. Wanting accuracy, she went in search of a history nerd to make sure it was right. Being the leading historian of the Renaissance within a 50 km radius she came knocking on my door for a consult. After a hefty cheque for my time, I showed her the right pieces to pick, decor to use, the types of entertainment needed and suggestions for menu items. I figured after she picked my brain clean of ideas I wouldn’t see her again. Instead I found myself with a new friend and an invite to the hottest party in town. I wasn’t going to say no to either. Molly was everything I wasn’t and somehow that worked for the two of us.

“What do you think?” She asked, eyes focused for imperfections. 

“I think I’ve stepped back in time. If it wasn’t for the jeans on my ass I’d think I was at a Catherine de Medici court festival.”

A small smile broke the tension off her face, “Good. We have some very, very VIP guests tonight. If I can snag their attention, I’ll be set for the next two years with the amount of events they host.”

“If there’s anyone who can reel in some bigwigs with their astounding execution of imagination, it’s you,” I reply, giving her a side hug. It was like hugging a statue, absolutely no give. She was wound tight tonight. 

“Thanks,” she sighed, slipping an arm over my shoulder, “Really, thanks. I don’t think I could have done this without your help.” 

“You absolutely could have, but you might have had decor from the baroque period.” 

Laughing, she steps back, pulling an envelope out of the bible and hands it to me, “Here’s your invitation and key card to the room I booked for you,” gesturing to a table about halfway down the room, “I have you seated at table 17 with a few of my guests.”

I started, eyes going big. Ah fuck, she’s got me with the big wigs she’s trying to impress? This would not bode well for her. I was not a social person and small talk was not in my bag of tricks. I had hoped she would put me in a corner with the other outcast people. 

Seeing the look of fear on my face she gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Relax, the VIPs are not seated there, I have them at a different table. You’ll be with friends of mine who are just here for a good time.”

Releasing a breath I didn’t even know I was holding I nodded, “Thank you. I want you to snag those clients, and my awkward butt would not have helped.” 

Chuckling she turned me towards the doors, “I think you undervalue yourself, but now is not the time to dig into your psyche. We’ll save that for brunch this weekend.” A small push out the door, “Now, go take a nap, get ready and I’ll see you back here at 8pm. “

I snagged the bag I left by the front door and gave a small wave as I headed towards the elevators. The hotel was as stunning and grandiose as the ballroom. They had carried some of the décor out into the foyer, making it feel like a step back in time. Hitting the up button I felt that sinking feeling come back. It had abated when I was around Molly. Her confident energy was infectious and made it easy to feel like I belonged. Away from her was a stark reminder that I was an outsider. 

The ping announcing the arrival of the elevator pulled me back from the beginning of the pity party I was starting to throw. I saw the light over the farthest door and headed over. Eyes downcast and mumbling about the stupidity of agreeing to coming I didn’t see the person getting out, only felt the solid wall of a body as I ran headfirst into them. 

“Oh fuck,” I exclaim, “I’m so sorry.” 

I step back and look up into the clearest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Struck speechless I just stare. A soft blue sweater only made his eyes pop more. Eyes that were searching my face with concern. 

“Are you alright?” The tall, dark and handsome stranger asked, stepping in, hands grabbing my shoulders to steady me. His cologne hit me and all I could think was how badly I wanted to bury my face in his neck and drown in that scent.

Heat flared across my cheeks as shock fixes itself on my face. What the…I’ve never had thoughts take over my mind like that before. A complete stranger and I was already undressing him and crawling over that body ready to…ready to what, Eve? It’s been years since you’ve had a lover. You’ve probably forgotten what to do. 

Stumbling out of his hands, “Me? Oh yeah. I’m good. Excellent even. How could one not be? It’s a great day and the sun is shining.” I stutter, as I feel my face go a deeper red. 

Holy fuck, Eve, calm the fuck down. It’s not your first time running into someone. Even a hottie like this guy, who smelled like a walking orgasm. Blatantly eyeballing him I take in every inch of his appearance. He didn’t just smell like a walking orgasm, he was one. Easily 6′ plus, sandy brown hair, those gorgeous blue eyes accented by long lashes, and ever so full and kissable lips. A slight five o’clock shadow graced his face, but it didn’t take from his appeal, it added to it. I started to imagine the feel of that scruff along very sensitive ar… whoa. 

Okay, this train of thought was getting out of control. I shuffle around him, mumbling apologies and slipping into the elevator, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. The voice in my head was yelling what I fool I was. I slam my thumb on the elevator button for the 7th floor. As the door was closing, I risked a quick glance up and saw him standing there a bewildered look on his face. A small ‘O’ of surprise shaping his mouth as the doors slid closed and I sank back against the wall, releasing a frustrated sigh.

Within a few seconds the doors are opening again and I’m practically running down the hall looking for room 707 so I can hide until the embarrassment wears off. As I get in, I slam the door behind me, deadbolting and setting the security bar. I was shaking like I just outran a pack of wolves. Stepping back I toss the bag on the bench and throw myself down on the bed. Full on damsel hysterics were on their way. Knowing the anxiety wasn’t going to disappear I just let them run their course until I could breathe properly again.

–

I must have fallen asleep as the panic had subsided. A normal side effect for me. I needed it to reset the body. Raising my head drowsily I search out a clock. Six o’clock. Still time to get ready, but that also meant I slept about 3 hours. So much for reading the book in my bag. Reading was my favourite thing to do when I wasn’t working or gardening. Relaxes me to step into another world for awhile. 

Cautiously standing up I can feel the tightness of muscles throughout my body. It had been awhile since I had a panic attack, but I remember the effects on the body. I would need to book a massage soon to help with the stiffness. 

Giving myself a shake I grab my bag and unpack the dress and things I would need for tonight. Unfurling the garment, I noticed some wrinkles and grabbed a hangar from the closet. I’d steam it out when I showered and iron after if needed. It was the nicest dress I owned but low maintenance thankfully. Pulling everything out I haul it into the bathroom and turn the shower on. 

Stripping down I step under the hot water. The pressure was excellent, and I let it pound over my head, water sluicing down my body as I envision the anxiety dripping off and down the drain. Grabbing the shampoo, I lather up my hair and let it sit for a moment as I grab the bar soap and run it over my skin. When my hand ran over my nipples I felt a zing that hit right into my core. My thoughts sauntered to the man I met at the elevator and how nice it would be if he was here to wash me down. I let my thoughts wander that way as my hand slipped further south, finding the sensitive nub that was already eager to be touched. My head fell forward as I start to work my fingers, whimpering as I pictured him again. 

The stinging in my eyes brought me back to reality as the soap from my hair ran down my face. Sputtering, I toss my head back and start rinsing my hair. Laughing at my own blunder I finish up my shower and wrap myself in a fluffy white towel. Shower sex didn’t work for many reasons, soap in eyes being one of them. I wrap my hair in another towel and check on the dress. Most of the wrinkles were gone. I shook it out and laid it on the bed. Might not need an iron after all.

Heading back to the bathroom I begin the process of getting ready. Hair and makeup took me about an hour, but the curls piled on my head and the black and gold around my eyes were going to look great with the mask I brought.  Body properly lotioned and perfumed, I begin the dressing part of this evening’s festivities. 

Thankfully the dress had a built in bustier, so a bra was unnecessary, but it was body hugging so a thong was needed to avoid a line. Black stockings with a lace top were next. I took a quick spin in the mirror and noted how the black contrasted with the whiteness of my skin. I really should get outside more, let the sun give me some colour.

Shrugging at the idea of possibly giving myself skin cancer for a tan, I grab the dress and slip it on. Zipping the side up I step in front of the mirror again. Strapless, it had a sweetheart neckline, dipping dangerously between my breasts, which were expertly pushed up thanks to the bustier. The swell of my stomach and hips curved beautifully with the cut of the material. The slit up the left thigh showed off a peek of lace at the top of the stockings. Stepping into the gold heels I bought especially for tonight’s event, I added a few inches of height to my short frame, lifting the hem of the dress off the floor.

The dress had been an impulse buy a year back. It was gorgeous and fit well, although I had it tailored to fit better, but it was something I had never worn before. It screamed sex and seduction, gave the appearance of confidence and allure. None of which I had. But I bought it anyway, with the outlandish idea that one day I’d gather enough courage to wear it. A masquerade ball where no one knew me, and I could hide behind a mask, felt like the perfect occasion. 

I donned the few pieces of gold jewellery I brought to accent and then pulled out the final touch, the mask. It was an authentic Venetian mask, and cost a very pretty penny when I bought it as a graduation gift for my Master’s degree. Peeling back the tissue paper I pulled it out admiring the gold filigree and black onyx outlining the eyes. No feathers for this one as the intricate swirls and whorls of the filigree was enough of an attention grabber. Lifting it out carefully, I use the mirror and fasten the silk ties around my head, using bobby pins to keep them from slipping. 

I step back and take in the full look. That was not Eve looking back, but an entirely different person. The woman in the mirror was everything I wasn’t: sexy and poised, afraid of nothing. The person I’ve always wanted to be. Tonight I would be her.

–

Stepping into the ballroom was a different experience this time with the lights dimmed to just the candlelight and a few strategic lights by the dance floor. The tables glowed eerily, the shadows of the flowers dancing arounds the place settings. With the mask I needed to move my head more to take in all the new details. Looking around there wasn’t that many people yet. I knew the guest list was about two hundred give or take. All of them had RSVP’d yes. Very few would miss this event. But it was 8 PM on the nose, and I was not fashionably late.

The room shimmered in gold thanks to the soft lighting of the candles. The black drapes bleeding into the shadows making the periphery of the room almost invisible, with the pops of red directing guests away from the sides towards the bar and tables. I had to admit this was definitely a step back in time. Molly had done a phenomenal job bringing this to life.  Speaking of Molly I looked around to see if I could spot her. I knew what her mask was because I had helped her pick it, but I didn’t see any green and gold feathers. 

Stepping further into the room a server appeared, wearing a black and white harlequin mask, as the staff were costumed too, carrying a tray of champagne flutes. I snagged one, with a nod of thanks, moving towards the stage at the front. A small group of musicians were playing slightly off centre. The soft music further crafting the ambience of the 16^th century. They would play through cocktails and dinner, the playlist remaining true to the time period, but after dinner the dance would have a DJ with a more modern playlist for dancing. Couldn’t expect 21st century patrons to waltz from the 16th century.

I made my way to table seventeen and found the place card with my name, setting my purse down next to it. I didn’t want to sit down at an empty table, but I also didn’t know what else to do. With the exception of Molly, everyone else were strangers and mingling was so not my thing. I could stand at a lectern in front of two hundred students with ease, but I would rather get a root canal at the dentist than converse with people on mundane topics such as the weather. 

Taking a swig of champagne, the bubbles tickling the back of throat causing a small cough. This certainly wasn’t the cheap stuff one buys at the liquor store when you’re celebrating promotions or, engagements. Not that I would know on the latter. No one had even gotten past the honeymoon phase of three-ish months. Once they realized how solitary my life was they typically rode off for wilder pastures. Taking another drink, I pulled out my phone to text Molly but ended up hitting the camera and was surprised by the image that flooded my screen. 

Lifting the phone for a better view I scrutinized the girl in the reflection. That wasn’t me following the design of the mask to honeyed amber eyes. That was a woman who could do small talk. Who could flirt and maybe find someone to take back to the room. That was a Femme Fatale of epic proportions because no one knew who she was and would never see her again. Protected by the anonymity of the mask and a dress she’d never wear again, she was in charge tonight. Slamming back the last of the champagne I placed the glass on the table, tucked my phone back in the purse and turned to go find someone to talk, possibly flirt with. 

“Oh fuck,” I startled, as I once again walked into a wall of flesh, rocked back on the tiny spokes of my heels, I knew I was about to fall flat on my ass. 

Hands gripped my elbows, pulling me back to an upright position and saving me the embarrassment of flashing the room. Instinctively my hands grabbed the forearms of the stranger, steadying my wobbly heels. I took a deep steadying breath only to inhale that glorious smell again, which travelled right to the deepest parts of my core, lighting it up like a pinball machine. Keeping my eyes closed I let that intoxicating scent become absorbed in every cell of my body.

When I opened my eyes I found the crystalline blue eyes from earlier, framed by a black porcelain mask. I couldn’t be this lucky. Or maybe I was cursed. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

Clamping my lips tight, refusing to stutter like I did earlier I give a quick nod and took a small step back, hitting the table. The last thing I wanted to do was move away from him but the smell was making me a little heady and I feared the combination of his cologne and the champagne would make me say something I would regret. I adjusted my mask, the didn’t need to be adjusted, but gave me something to do while I continued to compose my scattered brain. 

“Yes, thank you,” I replied, nerves causing my voice quivering slightly. “We really need to stop meeting like this,” I joke, voice steadier. 

Good Eve, that was good.  

The chuckle that emanated from his chest was deep and throaty, causing my knees to weaken like I was back in seventh grade. I wished right there I was funnier so I could hear that again, but alas my verbal skills tended to be more cerebral and less humorous. 

“My name is Curtis,” he introduced, offering me his hand. 

“Eve,” I replied, grabbing his hand.  

Instead of the handshake I was expecting he surprised me by laying a gentle kiss on the knuckles, “The pleasure is all mine,” his breath light and warm.

It took a hot minute for that to register in my soup for brains. That was by far the sweetest and sexiest thing that had ever happened to me. Standing up he didn’t release my hand and instead tucked it into the crook of his elbow and led me away from the table towards the open bar.

“I believe you need another champagne, and I could use a scotch.”

Leading the way, he weaved through the crowd with the assurance of a man who knew what he was doing. I struggled to keep up in my heels and his long stride. He was easily a half foot taller than me, even with the additional three inches on my shoes. Shuffling me up to the bar, he untucked my hand and moved his hand to rest possessively on my lower back. I could feel those long fingers settle just above my ass. My temperature spiked as I thought of what else those fingers could invade. 

The baritone of his voice broke the fantasy that was building in my mind. Looking between him and the bartender, I realized they had been waiting for a response to the question I hadn’t heard. 

“Sorry,” my voice croaked, causing me to cough, “What was the question?”

Leaning down, his mouth millimetres away from my ear, “Would you like another champagne, or perhaps something a little…harder?”

I stopped breathing as his words sunk in and I felt his fingers slip over the cleft of my ass. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. If he did that again I was going to come right there. 

Pulling back, he looked into my face and gave that low chuckle again, causing all the things in my body to tighten. He knew what I was thinking. I wanted harder, but not in a liquid form. I most assuredly wanted a solid. 

“The lady will have a champagne, please,” he ordered, facing the bartender and slipping a twenty into the tip jar. I don’t know how or where he pulled that money came from. I was starting to think he was sexy demon come to steal my soul by seduction. 

Where do I sign? 

“What was that?” he quizzed, “I missed what you said?”

Shit. I said the quiet part out loud. 

“Um, the lady’s name is Eve.” I hastily retorted, tripping over every syllable. 

Grabbing the drinks, passing me the champagne flute, “A fitting name for you,” he crooned, “Especially in that dress. Giving me Garden of Eve vibes.” 

Saluting him with the champagne glass, a light clink to his scotch glass, “To a night of mystery and possibilty,” I toasted. 

Quirking an eyebrow, he took a sip of his drink. 

“How do you know Molly,” he asked. Surprise must have shown on my face as he followed up with an explanation, “We’re at the same table, the one with Molly’s friends.”

Ah, that makes sense, “I helped her with authenticity for the event. I’m an historian. I teach at the university.” 

Now would be the time his eyes dulled as he thought me boring. I usually lost the interest of most of the guys I’d dated right about this time. My job wasn’t exciting and very few people appreciated history in the technological age we lived in now. Why study the past when we have a bright future to build? 

“So, you’re the one who helped her bring this vision to life?”

“No, this is all her,” I waved my hand around the room, “I just made sure she had the right pieces for the era.”

“That’s not how she tells the story,” he countered, “According to her she wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without your input.”

Shocked twice in a matter of five minutes I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I opted to ignore the comment. 

“How do you know Molly?” I asked, taking a small sip of the delicious champagne. I needed to pace myself with this bubbly or I was going to end up soused before dinner. 

“I’m her brother,” he answered. Causing me to choke, feeling the burn of those bubbles in my nose. 

A look of concern graced that gorgeous face as he reached for the handkerchief in his jacket pocket, handing it to me as I sputtered and tried not to let the liquid ruin the mood by escaping from orifices that drinks should not seep from. Turning slightly, I took the cloth and dabbed at my face, making sure nothing was leaking as I cleared out my throat. 

Her brother? I was envisioning her brother naked. What a great friend I’m turning out to be. ‘Excuse me Molly, thank you for inviting me to this beautiful event, but I’m going to sneak off to bang your brother in the dark corner over there. Hope you don’t mind.’ Closing my eyes I count of three, desperately trying to compose myself before turning back. 

“Curtis! There you are,” Molly called, “I have been looking for you everywhere! When did you get here?”

I turn just as Molly threw her arms around her brother, into a tight hug. When she released him, I could see the resemblance. I don’t know how I missed it. Even with masks you could tell they were related. They had the same blue eyes, sandy hair, high cheekbones and full lips. 

“I got here just a few minutes ago and found this delightful tablemate without a drink,” he gestured towards me, “so I rectified the problem.”

Molly turned towards me and I could see the wheels turning as she tried to place me. I smiled as the dawning hit her, “Eve! Holy shit, I didn’t recognize you!” 

Smiling, “That’s the point of this event, is it not? To remain anonymous behind the mask while we revel in debauchery?”

“You’re right, but I’ve been able to recognize everyone but you so far,” her eyes doing a long travel up and down, “You’re a damn knock out!”

Blushing I duck my head. 

“Molly, the place looks amazing,” Curtis stated, saving me from responding and drawing Molly’s gaze away from me, “I think you superseded even your perfectionist expectations.”

Molly turned towards the room, listing off everything she had accomplished while I shook off the embarrassment I felt at Molly’s comment. While I know she meant well she had shaken some of the confidence I has mustered earlier. If I looked good now, it meant I didn’t look good before, right? Blinking back tears of shame, cursing out my dowdiness I tried to reclaim the person I saw in the mirror. Tonight, I was that woman. 

But damn that awkward girl was still there too. 

I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning me gently away from Molly and her recitations, a soft voice whispered to me, “There’s a ladies room just to the right over there, why don’t you take a moment?”

Nodding I stumble away without looking up. Hot flashes of shame rushing through me. The roar of blood drowned out every other sense and I almost missed the door to the restroom. Pushing through I found the closest stall and ducked in, engaging the lock with a shuddered breath. Closing the lid to the toilet I sat down and pulled some toilet paper to dab at my eyes. Hard to do with the mask so I slid it up to rest on my hair. Barely an hour into this party and I was on my second panic attack of the night. 

Instead of giving in like the last one I take a few deep breaths, counting to ten on the inhale and exhale. After a minute my breathing became less shaky and the tears threatening to spill dissipated. I tossed the shredded paper, stepping back into the main bathroom and headed to the sinks. The mirror showed pink cheeks, slightly smudged eyeliner and an expression of fear. How could I go back out there? I couldn’t face Curtis and Molly. I had acted like a skittish rabbit and ran at the slightest provocation. 

I also couldn’t not go back out there. 

Cleaning up the smudges as best as possible I readjusted the mask over my face and tried to channel that confident, sexy woman I’ve caught glimpses of. But at the moment she was gone. Just Eve was here. With a resigned shrug I sucked it up and headed back out. If it started to suck I could always head back to my room, feigning a headache and continue the shower fantasy.

I could hear noise when I opened the door and knew that either the crowd had grown bigger in population or louder in sound. Tip toeing up I peeked around the column that hid the bathrooms from the main room and noted it was the former. Significantly more people had arrived while I was composing myself. How long was I in there? I didn’t have a watch or my phone so I couldn’t tell the time.

As I tried to work out the timeline a hand grasped my shoulder causing me to shriek and instinctively slamming my elbow back, hitting the solar plexus of my assailant. I heard the satisfying oomph as I whirled around, ready to go for the nose when I realized who was actually behind me. 

“We really do need to stop meeting like this,” Curtis wheezed, doubled over as he struggled for air, “I’m going to start bruising soon.”

I started laughing.

I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t a particularly funny comment, but I was wound so damn tight it was either laugh or cry. Looking over his features, contorted in pain and shock I couldn’t help but laugh harder. Wrapping an arm around my waist, I mimicked his bent over position as I tried to get enough oxygen to my brain, desperate to stop laughing before…too late. I started to snort laugh. The most unattractive kind of laughing. Which he apparently found hysterical as he joined in as we collapsed into each other. Just a couple of hyenas at a fancy schmancy ball. 

As the giggles started to abate, I looked up into those baby blues and became very aware of how close we were. The scent of that glorious cologne invading my head, clouding my judgement, which was the excuse I used to justify what I did next. Standing tall I grasped his lapel and pulled him in for a kiss. A gentle press of lips at first, but dear god, that just lit the fuse. Without a second thought he pushed me back against the column that hid is from the room, one arm around my waist, the other cupping the back of my head as he took control. 

Those lips were just as soft as I imagined. I parted my lips, an invitation he gladly accepted. As his tongue invaded my mouth my hand slid up his chest, into his hair, the silky strands tickling my fingers. Careful of the masks’ tie I pulled him in deeper, my tongue dominating his mouth. I wanted to wrap my whole body in his. I pulled back, nipping his lip, loving the groan of pain and excitement he emitted before I sucked his tongue back into my mouth. 

“Oh fuck, Eve,” he moaned, forehead pressed to mine “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t, I mean, we shouldn’t…damn…I can’t think straight.”

“Stop thinking,” I murmured, “It’s overrated.” 

I barely finished the sentence before his lips were on mine again. This time his hand found the slit in my dress, fingers caressing over lace edges.”

“You’re killing me,” he groaned, “Stockings.”

I gasped as his fingers trailed a feather touch from the lace to the soft satin of my panties.  My thighs parted easily, my brain no longer functioning as his thumb pressed into the already wet fabric to the hardening nub of my clit.  Gentle circles over that very sensitive part of my body had me panting, struggling to contain my cries. His mouth muffled my attempts at discretion as his thumb pushed the fabric aside and slipped inside me. 

I swear if I died right this second, I would die happy. Grinding my hips I push his thumb as deep as it can go, the pad massaging the tight walls. Pressing my mouth tight to his I try not to scream as the knuckle of his index finger hits my clit and starts rubbing. It wasn’t even a kiss at this point as a silencer. I closed my eyes and gave into the sensation, doing my best to keep my noises to a minimum, but the closer I came to orgasm the harder it was to stay quiet. So I stopped trying, crying out into his mouth as I came all over that devilish thumb. 

“Good girl,” he smiled, sliding his thumb into his mouth, taking his time sucking the juices off, “You’re going to need another moment in the bathroom. And possibly a new pair of panties.”

Feeling bold, I press my hand against the fly of his pants, grasping the solid shaft as best I could, “I think you’ll need a moment too.”

“Keep doing that,” he growled, “and I’m going to need new pants as well.”

Biting his earlobe, “Seems only fair that you make a mess too,” I whisper as fingers deftly took care of the zipper and slipped through the gap in both his pants and briefs to find the silky soft shaft. 

Forehead pressed to mine I watch him fight for control. Eyes shut and his upper lip caught between his teeth, he was lost. Groans music to my ears as I wrapped my hand tightly, yet barely around, stroking slowly with purpose. I don’t know where this wanton wench came from but I was enjoying the power I held as he let me have my way with him. I felt him harden as I quickened my pace, his breath a pant in my ear. 

Through gritted teeth he begged, “I need you to stop,” his hand grasped my wrist, “If you don’t, I am going to rip those panties off and fuck you right against this pole.”

Blue eyes, hard as an iceberg, melted into mine. The threat very real in the tightness around those full lips. A wicked smile danced around my mouth as I swiped my thumb over the very sensitive tip of his cock, gathering a rather excessive amount of precum and let my tongue lap it up as he watched. 

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.”

Stumbling back he attempted to adjust his erection, zipping up his fly. He failed in hiding exactly how much he enjoyed my ministrations. His face grew hard as he took several deep breaths, desperate to regain control over his wayward prick. I didn’t want his control, but the loss of it.

Taking a quick look around, seeing we were in the darkest corner away from the bar and the entertainment, blissfully unobserved, I hitched up the dress, shimming out of the scrap of satin, tossing them in his direction. Eyes wide he caught them, shoving them into his pocket without looking and closed the gap between us in two steps. Keeping true to his word he spun me around, pressing me against the pole as I heard his zipper once again find itself undone. Quite like the man whose hands nearly ripped my dress trying to get to the sweet spot between my thighs. 

Giggling as he cursed, I bunched the material up, pulling it to the right making access easier from the side with the slit, exposing my ass. Fingers dug into my hip as he pulled me closer and I felt the tip of his cock nudge at my very eager pussy. Pushing back I felt him sink in, audibly moaning as inch by inch he filled me up. One hand on my hip the other grabbed my neck, effectively holding me still. 

Slow strokes in and out, his hot breath next to my ear, “When my sister told me about you, I never would have suspected the quiet, cute history nerd would be so damn sexy,” his pace quickening as I tighten around him close to the next orgasm, “Or the stuttering girl from the elevator would throw her thong at me in the middle of a party,” teeth grazing my neck, “yet here you are, panting as I fuck you behind a pillar at the ball, where anyone could wander and see us.”

I wasn’t just teetering on the edge, I took a running leap off it and crashed through the pleasure as it rolled through my body. I exploded. If Curtis hadn’t been quick thinking the whole room would have heard the cry he muffled behind his hand. 

“That’s a good girl,” his hand releasing my mouth, “you’re gonna need to stifle the next one because I’m not able to hold back anymore,” his voice dropped to a growl as the strokes stopped, “I’m going to bury myself so deep as I fill you up.”

Both hands gripping my hips he went hard. I knew I would have bruises where his fingers dug in. The pace, his thickness, and the sounds of his voice groaning my name sent me right back over the edge. This time I clamped my lips tightly shut, protecting what little dignity I had left after getting fucked surrounded by so many people. I felt him shudder with one final thrust, his cries smothered in my shoulder as he bit down, sending me spiralling with him as he did exactly as he promised and filled me up. 

Hours that were mere seconds passed. Immobile, him still inside me, we both attempted to regain a modicum of sanity. With the final release the real world came flooding back in with the sounds of raised voices and clinking glasses. I felt the heat rush up to my face, burning my cheeks a vibrant red, or so I imagined.

What the fuck had I done? Well, fuck, that’s what you did, Eve. Heart racing, my body started to shake as the panic flooded back. What would Molly think if she found out? What about the rest of the guests? The idea of being caught by the cities elite and publicly humiliated in front of my friend. One of none I had. 

Curtis must have realised what was happening and slowly withdrew. I felt hollow when he was gone but I focused instead of righting my dress and gathering up the pride I tossed away, along with my underwear. When I faced him, I probably looked like a death row inmate about to face the executioner. What must he think of me? I had to get out of here. If I thought I didn’t belong before, I sure as shit knew now. 

Sensing I was about to bolt he quickly grabbed my shoulders, “Eve, I think you’re utterly amazing, and I have no regrets for what just happened. This was by far the hottest thing I’ve ever done, and I really hope you feel the same.”

Not quite processing the words I stared at him mutely. What? What did he say? 

“Eve, no one saw anything. This was a moment just between us. We’re in the dark, we’re both masked, we were careful and discreet. Ish,” giving me a little shake, “Eve, are you hearing me? We’re okay, it’s just you and me here.”

Pulling me into a hug his voice soft and soothing it finally broke through, “Just breathe. You’re safe. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Take as long as you need.” 

Wrapping my arms around him I sunk into the warmth of his body, my shaking subsiding. I pressed my ear to his chest, the steady beat of his heart drowning out the voice screaming in my head. A deep inhale brought the smell of that cologne, suppressing the stench of shame emanating from me. Looking up I found those baby blues staring down at me, soft and full of compassion. I raised my lips to his, tasting the mingling of us, as he kissed me back. 

Composure restored I stood back, smiling. 

“Eve, might I have the pleasure of your company this evening?” he asked, giving a slight bow, hand outstretched, an invitation.  

I took his offered hand as he led me back into the room that I suddenly didn’t feel so alone in anymore. 

“You’re such a geek,” I laughed,

Beaming he looked down at me, gently kissing the palm of my hand, “Didn’t you know?” he asked teasingly, “Geeks are for nerds.”