As he looked at me with his hazel eyes and scruffy beard, I paused. He was lighter toned, an older man. I looked back with my dark brown eyes, surprised he kept eye contact with me. He smiled and waved while I shyly smiled and waved back.
The events that followed thereafter are purely fictional.
The man with the hazel eyes was soon named to be a stranger wuth a mask asked me for my hand in dance. I agreed. We were both at the fundraiser for curing cancer at Cooper University, however we were in a gala somewhere nearby. As night was approaching, there was a man that was also approaching as well. The special occasion was a masquerade ball for cancer. He had on his mask, a black, sleek mask while I had my black mask with feathers and crystals so he couldn’t see anything but my eyes. He couldn’t see my facial features but he knew by my expression filled eyes who I was. He slowly maneuvered around me to the point I was pressed against him. He was strong and courageous for picking me to dance with. He was a stranger with a mask. I was an administrative assistant to a doctor that was currently looking for me. As the song changed, my mood changed as well. It was if I was charmed by the notes entering my ear drums. There was now a Samba keyed song and I chose to walk away and stare behind me. However my long, blue dress would not let me. “Going somewhere, big booty?” he whispered to me. “Um, yes to the bathroom, do you mind?” I snapped. “Yes, actually I do. You went before we danced, mi amor.” He moved his hands to quickly but roughly caress my hips and thighs. “You’re staying right here. I don’t care if your little work boyfriend is looking for you.” I blushed and whispered, “He’s my boyfriend, huh? Well you’re a stranger with a mask.” I giggled from the champagne I’ve been drinking. “You’re a little tipsy are you? Let me help you to the bathroom.” He sternly retorted. “No, I don’t needhiccup any help from youuuuuuuuu.” I became a blushing stranger for him. My eyes were playful, and yet, there was something else there. Desire, need, and contentness. As we got to the bathroom, there were sofas and large chairs. He sat down on the sofa and beckoned me into his lap. I softly smiled and held out my hand to get situated however the movement was too fast and I was in his lap roughly with my dress that would normally be at my ankles, at my knees. He noticed the hole in my leg. I turned away as he looked at it. He kissed it and said it made me unique and beautiful. Every scar, every imperfection he kissed and lingered. The last imperfection was were arms. They had scars on the from when I cut. I was an emotional younger woman. He kissed each arm and went up to my collarbone. He was my undoing. As he kissed my collarbone, a pool in me has just began to overflow. It overflowed so much I started to feel it in my inner thigh. The way he masterfully kissed me neck and held me so I couldn’t escape was the work of not a stranger, but of a man. A strong, dominant man. He told me to turn around and pull my dress even higher. “I want your bottom in the air and your eyes to collide with mine.” he demanded. When I wasn’t moving quick enough, a sound SLAP was heard through the bathroom. As I sat down, my eyes collided with his and they mirrored everything I felt as well as something else, adoration. I kissed him with my lips, ground into his rather large manhood, and etched my name into his heart. He held me close as I moaned in anticipation. His expert fingers found my delicate flower. He started to stroke the inner petal. “Tell me what you want..” As I involuntarily moved against his fingers, feeling myself getting wetter. “Tell me, mi amor. I know what you want, but I want to hear it from you. Let me hear every single dirty detail..” as he started to stroke it even faster. “I.. ” being at a loss of words couldn’t tell him go make me come all over his hands. “You can do it, use your words…” as he slipped down my dress and exposed a nipple to his tounge and lips to manipulate. “I want to..” was all that came out as I’m on the brink of exploding. “Mhmmmm” he murmured as my nipples were continuously in his mouth. “I wanna come please!” He smiled in eyes as that was the thing wanted to hear. His fingers went faster as his other hand unzipped his pants. As I heard rustling my flower suddenly felt full and complete. He was in me, moving agonizingly slow and senusal. “I’m going to make you squirt on me, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me, understand?” he harshly stated with a smack of my full bottom. “Y-yes, I understand!” As I felt him move quicker in me. The coil in my belly started to become tighter and tighter as he made love to me. It bursted when he dung deep and stayed while he whispered something in Italian in my ear. He stayed in me while I exploded on him..in everyway. I was nothing more than jelly on top of him. Surprisingly, he lifted me right as I was squirting so he can see my flower put out its nectar. He smiled and asked if I was okay to walk. My shaky legs were enough of a sign I wasn’t. He asked for my hand and we freshened ourselves. He hand such a smile as he was touching sensitive area. I reached out and touched his hand that was toughing me. “No more, please.” I pleaded with him. He had a mischievous smile and said, “Now you go and tell your work husband your real man has gave you stars.” I simply moaned. As the doctor came as asked of my whereabouts, R simply stated it was time for me to go home and I needed a day off. There was no room for argument with the dangerous tone R took. The doctor simply nodded his head and pleaded for me to feel better for next week. I nodded in understanding. I hate the stranger with the mask.