Part 9: Penthouse Masquerade
S. helps a widower rediscover his sensuality
A man stood in front of the door to an extravagantly expensive penthouse apartment dressed in his rented, period-correct butler’s uniform. He watched the lights above the elevator flash just before the doors slid open to the penthouse lobby with a soft chime. As they parted, he had to restrain himself to avoid swearing aloud. The three new guests were definitely going to make quite the impression at the Regency-themed masquerade party going on inside.
They had matching costumes which were definitely rooted in the Regency period, but they had gone all out on the masquerade part, too. Up to the waist, they looked as if they might have walked out of a Jane Austen novel. Above the waist, it was more Nether than Netherfield Park, and more bordello than Bennet.
The man exited the elevator ahead of the other two. He was an enormous, strapping man. He had shiny black leather boots which reached just below the knee. Above, he had fawn-colored trousers which were so snug as to outline each knot of muscle in his impressively large thighs. The snugness also revealed that he was either outrageously well-endowed, or at least wanted everyone to think so.
The coat, waistcoat and linen shirt were all there, after a fashion. Each was so shredded and torn as to be virtually unrecognizable. Leather straps with gold studs criss-crossed his hairy chest under the shreds leaving plenty of his muscular torso available to be admired. Huge bat wings rose over his titanic shoulders with the boney spikes at each joint gilded to match. He wore a disturbingly life-like skull mask which covered his upper face and cheeks to reveal reddish mutton-chop whiskers and a thick, waxed mustache. His lips were covered with white lipstick to complete the skeletal appearance. Huge gilded rams’s horns curled from his brow to complete a full circle and a half before ending in sharp points.
The ladies exited next, stepping out to either side. Both wore ankle-length period-correct Regency gowns in cream with gold accents which fastened around the waist with a wide red ribbon. Above the waist, though, their modest gowns were also shredded leaving them virtually nude except for a black leather harness made of straps which wound around their bodies. The net result barely covered enough to be fit for public display. Each also had bat wings peeking over their shoulders, gilded like the man’s, a white porcelain mask ringed with diamonds around the edges, and small gilded horns.
The older woman on the right was tall, dark-haired, very pale, and extremely buxom. She would make one think of a milkmaid with her pale skin and curvy figure except that her haughty expression forbade such a comparison. Her wings and horns were quite a bit bigger than the younger woman’s. The latter was small, tanned, and muscular with a figure more boyish than feminine. Her pointed chin and delicate hands softened the impression, though, and she was just as appealing in her own way.
Both women wore black leather collars with gold studs around their necks . A fine chain lead from each collar to one of the man’s hands. Without a word, the older woman handed the butler three invitations, and they walked into the party.
Umbra eye’s widened upon entering the apartment. The space was huge, with tall pillars and an open floor plan. The main area was the size of a ballroom, with hallways leading out of sight to both sides. Each pillar had a brass candelabra with tall, white candles actually burning, and matching floor candelabras were strategically placed all around the room so that, even though all the conventional electric lights were off, the room seemed brightly lit. Wood paneling covered the walls in the alcoves between the pillars, and the ordinary furniture of the room had been re-arranged all around the outside of the space to leave the center of the room open for guests. Floor-to-ceiling glass made up the far wall, with seemingly tiny doors leading out onto a balcony. Servers dressed in period-accurate footman’s or maid’s livery wove in and out with food and drink. There was even an actual string quartet playing softly in the corner accompanied by an actual harpsichord!
The guests, themselves, were more "masquerade” than "period”. A variety of modern super heroes, movie characters, and other more generic costumes dominated the crowd. Most had been altered, especially by the women, to show off a lot more skin than was originally intended. All managed to incorporate a mask into their costume somehow, even if it was only a strip of cloth over the eyes. There were a small number, mostly older, who not only managed to find period attire, but wore it with aplomb.
Their costumes had not gone unnoticed either. There was a subtle wave of heads and a buzz of conversation as the three appeared in the doorway a few steps above the throng ("Check out those wings! They look so real!”). There was much tapping of shoulders and nudging of ribs as everyone drew their neighbors’ attention to the trio.
It didn’t take long before Umbra saw their acquaintance from their recent trip to the opera making his way over. He was accompanied by two other men and a woman. The little group just so happened to include both the worst and best costumes in the room.
The worst costume belonged to a young man in his early 20’s. He was short, blonde, and slender. Completely in contrast to everyone else in the room, he was wearing a white muscle shirt, white jeans, and a black leather arm band. He was also wearing a lopsided wig of dark hair along with a false mustache and enormous fake teeth. He was accompanied by a woman around his own age. She was wearing a white latex pencil dress which barely contained her obviously (and absurdly) augmented curves. Her spray tan, bleached hair, and puffy lips only served to complete the sense of artificiality. Umbra privately nicknamed her "Barbie” even before introductions were made.
The best costume was worn by an older gentleman, probably in his mid 50’s. He was wearing an impeccable, period-accurate tail coat, waistcoat, trousers and boots. His salt and pepper hair was styled to perfection, including just a hint of mutton chops, but otherwise clean-shaven. He could easily have stood in for Mr. Darcy at a similar event two centuries earlier. His only concession to the "masquerade” was a replica of the Phantom of the Opera’s iconic white mask with the addition of a teardrop-shaped sapphire seeming to fall from the corner of his eye.
Introductions all around (with fake names for Sulphurette, Noctus, and Umbra) were accompanied by amazed compliments and Umbra learned that the young man and his father were the hosts of the evening. Sulphurette took the lead by inquiring: "You and your father seem to have miscommunicated about the theme for the party... your costume seems somewhat out of place?”
"Nah... I’m the Queen! Get it? Queen... like the band?” he sneered, popping a cheap plastic crown on his wig. "Dad’s a little... old-fashioned. But, at least I managed to get him to throw some kind of party!”
Only momentarily nonplussed, Sulphurette turned to the father and said, "Thank you for inviting us! Will we be meeting the hostess later? I’d love to compliment her on her taste in decorating this space. It’s quite lovely.”
The older man was about to reply when the young man interrupted him: "There’s no hostess. Mom died when I was little, and Dad still can’t find a date. He’s pretty hopeless with women.” There was an awkward silence for a moment until "Barbie” squeaked a giggle, and said in a nasal valley-girl accent, "But he’s so handsome! Like that tequila guy!” The giggles trailed off as she got no reaction from the crowd, and a deadly look from Sulphurette.
Just then, Umbra caught a quick look between Noctus and Sulphurette. Noctus stepped in by saying to the older man "Well, it won’t do to allow our host to be without feminine company on such an occasion, and I seem to have come over-prepared...” At the same time, he offered up Sulphurette’s chain.
The man raised both palms, saying "No, that’s very kind, but I’m quite well as I am.” Noctus was about to say something more when the son interrupted again.
"Come on, Dad! She’s super hot! Have fun for once!” with eyes clearly ogling Sulphurette’s tits. Then, he grabbed the offered chain and roughly yanked her forward, placing the chain in his father’s hands. For an irrational moment, Umbra half expected Sulphurette to hoist the uncultured boy off the floor and do something horrible to him. Instead, she smoothly placed her arm through the father’s, coldly turned her back on the son, and walked off into the milling guests. Noctus likewise took the opportunity to make a polite escape, taking Umbra with him.
As they mingled with the other guests, Umbra attended closely as Noctus kept up a running commentary on Sulphurette’s seduction of the older man. When she could, that is. They were often distracted by other guests complimenting them on their costumes, or by people wanting to flirt with one or both of them. However, Umbra started to see the pattern of innocent touches, smiles, clever conversation, and granting subtle opportunities to peek at her figure without getting caught. She also watched as the man’s posture relaxed, his replies to her questions grew more involved, and he even started to smile once in a while.
The flirting was interrupted by a flourish from the string quartet which brought all movement and conversation to a halt. The head butler who took their invitations stepped into the center of room, and raised his voice to say: "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to this evening’s Regency masquerade!” Applause briefly interrupted him, and he continued: "Please welcome some of our own dancers to demonstrate the Quadrille.” At this point, two couples entered from opposite sides of the room and took up their positions. More applause. "Now,” the butler continued, "we need two volunteer couples! Don’t worry, our dancers will show you the steps!”
At once, Sulphurette and her gentleman joined the couples on the floor. Just as she was settling back to enjoy watching Sulphurette dance, she felt the collar around her own neck tug her gently forward as Noctus walked out onto the floor as well! Keeping a fake smile plastered on her face, she hissed, "Noctus! What are you doing? I don’t know this dance!”
He ignored her as they took their place to fill the last side of the box. As the music started, the butler called out the names of various figures for the dancers to perform. The four hired dancers demonstrated each figure first, and then would come their turn. Both Sulphurette and Noctus took to the elaborate gestures, passes, and skipping dance steps as though they’d been doing them for years. Which, Umbra reflected, they probably had. Sulphurette was, after all, nearly 400 years dead, and Noctus at least half that age. Not surprisingly, their host also seemed to know what he was doing, too. It was his party after all, and he must have known this was coming. That left Umbra feeling very much out of place, and terrified of making a fool of herself.
Fortunately, she could watch the professionals do everything first, and then mirror Sulphurette when it was her turn. In the end, she wound up loving the dancing. It sent electric thrills through her when her fingers touched Sulphurette’s in all the elaborate crossing and weaving through the patterns, and her heart swelled to be part of one of her romantic adventures. All too soon, the dance ended, and another began. She and Noctus stayed for the next Quadrille, but Sulphurette and her partner had disappeared.
"Oh my, it’s so cold out here in this costume!” Sulphurette said as she snuggled under the man’s arm. "Mmm. That’s better. Just don’t bump my wings... they’re fragile.” They enjoyed the view for a few moments when she added, "Thank you for the dance, though.” Reaching up, she caressed his face along the edge of his Phantom of the Opera mask. "Such a tragic, lonely, romantic you are...” she added.
He started a bit, replying, "I’m not...”
"I meant the Phantom...”
"Oh, yes. The Phantom. But he merely longed for what was never his, while I...” and his voice died out.
They were silent for a while. Sulphurette said quietly, "You too, though. It has been a long time for you, hasn’t it? Since you were intimate with someone?”
He didn’t answer at once. He sighed. "Yes. My son was very young when she died, and I haven’t ever felt like getting close to someone again since then. You’re the first woman I’ve meet in all that time who seems to see the world as I do. I’m so glad you came tonight.” he said as he pulled her even closer.
She slid around between him and the edge of the balcony, staring up into his face. Without any further words, she tentatively moved her face closer and closer to his. When he didn’t object, she softly kissed him on the lips, lingering gently over the kiss for a long while. When she pulled back, he seemed to be struggling with grief for a woman long since lost, hope for nascent love perhaps yet to be born, and a growing re-discovery of intimate desire. After a moment of indecision, he leaned in to kiss her eagerly and pull her close.
They stayed that way for several delicious minutes until a gust rushed by, reminding them that they were high off the ground with the stars of the city below and the stars of the sky above. Sulphurette shivered. Looking into his eyes, she said, "Perhaps we can go somewhere... more intimate?”
Playfully holding up the end of her chain, the creases showing in the corners of his eyes, he said: "Follow me.”
Noctus saw Sulphurette and her gentleman slip out onto the balcony alone after the first Quadrille and kept an eye out for them to come back in. When they did, they quickly dodged around the edge of the room to one of the many alcoves and disappeared down a hallway.
He had been enjoying seeing little Umbra practice her seduction skills with some of the young men at the party. However, it was clearly time to move the lesson along to the next stage. Resting his massive arms around the thin shoulders of the two anemic young men Umbra had been flirting with, he leaned heavily on them and said, "Would you gentlemen excuse us? I’m going to need some time alone with my date now.” With a significant wink, he pulled her along by the chain toward the alcove where Sulphurette had so recently left.
Still pulling her by the chain, the "Phantom” lead the miraculous woman he’d just met along the hall to his bedroom. Opening the door, he flipped on the switch for the gas fireplace, leaving the lights off. It flared to life, giving a flickering glow to the room. Heading for the two armchairs by the fire, he felt the chain go taught in his hand, and he turned to look back.
She was smiling at him. Stepping forward, she deliberately made a slow circle around him, tangling him up in the chain he still held. Her hands caressed his shoulders and neck over the stiff outer coat of his costume. Standing behind and slightly to the right—just in the way a valet would have done—she lightly lifted the lapels of the coat and pulled it back off his shoulders. Setting it aside, she pressed herself up against him from behind—just as a valet would not have done—and started unfastening the buttons of his waistcoat. This too, was set aside, and she guided him backward by the shoulders until his knees met the edge of an armchair, and he sank down into it.
Kneeling in front of him, she slid her hands from his stomach up to his chest, pulled his tie loose, and dropped it on the floor. Then, she un-fastened each button, one by one, until she reached his trousers. With a tug, she pulled the shirt loose, and let the light fabric float open to reveal the graying tangle of hair across his chest and abdomen. As she worked, her porcelain skin reflected the red and orange waves of light from the fireplace. Leaning forward as she was, her full breasts strained at the leather harness, bulging around each strap.
He had forgotten how good it felt to simply be touched. He relished the feel of her hands as they slid along his skin, and ruffled the hair on his chest. Her hands were smooth and cool on his body, and he relished the feeling. She caressed his face and kissed him deeply. Moving downward, she traced kisses along his chin, neck, chest, and stomach. Despite the antique system of buttons on his trousers, she easily opened them while still gazing deeply into his eyes.
Then, those cool hands reached into his briefs and pulled out his cock. Under her teasing fingers, he rapidly swelled to her touch. With the lightest touch of her tongue, she teased up and down its length before encompassing the entire tip in her mouth. "Oh... that’s amazing...” he whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the armchair, his head lolling back as she continued. Her mouth provided the perfect blend of sensations. Warm, strong, and smooth at once. As she slowly slid up and down on his cock, one hand applied a firm pressure as her mouth withdrew while the other stroked his stomach and chest. The most delightful glow spread from her mouth through his cock to his entire body. He continued to murmur words of delight and encouragement until she slowly took his entire length one last time, and then pulled back.
"I could spend the rest of my life like that,” he said smiling at her.
"I have something else in mind,” she replied, winking back at him. One at a time, her hands slid off his long boots, and then his trousers. Finally, she held out her hands, and helped him to his feet. Those smooth, cool hands traced patterns along his naked hips, waist, and found their way up to his shoulders to push his shirt back until it fell off onto the chair.
She stood back, taking him in. He was completely naked now, while she was still completely dressed (if you could call what she was wearing "dressed"). She looked him up and down slowly with a sly smile on her face. "You’re quite a treat... you take very good care of yourself.”
He was both a little embarrassed and pleased about scrutiny and candid appraisal. He did work out routinely, and was a little proud of having kept himself in shape when most of his peers had slid into middle-aged chubbiness.
Tossing an armchair cushion on the ground, she invited him to lie down. He did so, placing his head on the cushion, and wondering what was going to come next. Raising her skirts a few inches, she planted one foot on each side of his ribcage so that he had a view straight up the sheer edge of her skirt, past the overhanging cliffs of her breasts, to the wickedly sly grin at the summit. In that moment, she seemed like a powerful giantess about to consume him. Slowly, the curtains of her skirts began to raise inch by inch. The plump curve of her calves came into view first, huge like the rolling waves of a calm sea. Next her knees were exposed, seeming to be the white crests at the ocean shore. Then her long thighs which seemed to run on forever like sandy beaches. Finally, the thick forest of dark hair: impenetrable, mysterious, and hiding secret delights.
Dropping her skirts, she slowly settled herself down onto his upright cock, not coming to rest until their hip bones met, and he felt himself pressed into the floor under her weight. It was sheer delight. She rocked forward and back on him, her breasts swaying to the limits of their harness on each stroke. Her hands were braced on his shoulders, and he reached up to caress her face, stroke her hair, and cradle her breasts. She moved slowly; almost sliding completely off him at the top, and then pressing him down into the floor at the bottom. As she moved above him, she purred soft words in Italian, only some of which he understood. "Amore... bellisimo... delizia...”
She moved faster and faster in time with his groans. He could feel the primal tension building in him until he groaned, "Oh god, I’m close!” At which point, she smoothly dismounted and took him all the way in her mouth. The urgent pull from her mouth and lips immediately put him over the edge. He moaned softly as his orgasm stretched on and on. It had been so long since he’d been with a woman, he’d almost forgotten what it was like. So much more intense, so much more satisfying, and so much longer than when he made do for himself. Sleep overtook him with the words "Thank you...” on his lips.
Sulphurette swallowed the last mouthful with quiet delight. She felt energized, alive, and profoundly happy. Smiling to herself, she stooped down, and picked up the tall man with as much gentleness and ease as a mother picks up a sleeping child. She tucked him into bed, and pulled the covers up around his shoulders. She looked down at him with genuine warmth in her eyes. Impulsively, she bent down and kissed him gently on the forehead. «Dormi bene, mio galante gentiluomo. Possa questa pace portare guarigione.» "Sleep well, my gallant gentleman. May this peace bring healing.”
She looked up to see Umbra and Noctus standing in the doorway. Umbra looked a little misty, while Noctus merely looked puzzled. Quietly, he asked, "Didn’t we come here so you could seduce the son, not the father?”
Looking back down at the middle-aged man sleeping contentedly, she answered, "Yes, but he needed it more. No matter what the council says, sex isn’t a sin, a perversion, or a corruption. It is the highest form of pleasure possible. He’d lost that in his grief. I’ve helped him regain it. That’s why I’m here, no matter how they see it.”
"So... Marcello, again?" Noctus asked with uncharacteristic gentleness.
"Yes." she answered, with a catch in her voice. And then, barely above a whisper, "Marcello."