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She stood

She stood, looking into the mirror. Her hair done, makeup applied just right. Looking over her maid costume for the tenth time, nerves on edge, anticipation building in her. He said he might make it to the party, please let him be there tonight, I need him, no I want him! Arriving at the party, she steps into the night. The plea from him to be there whispered across her lips. Walking in she immediately scans the room looking for any hint of him. What would he wear? Who would he be? Will I know him when I see him? Questions spinning in her mind. Her search becoming almost frantic now, considering the faces partially covered by this mask or that. A new costume, one she hasn’t seen yet, but was it him? Those eyes, that chin, it must be him, she is sure of it. A moment of doubt fly’s through her mind, fleeting. Replaced by the fantasy of the night to come. Their eyes lock, his smile, that’s his smile, trying to reassure herself that it was him. He moves toward her, confidently stride after stride, each step closer, brings about her desire for him. Standing in front her, his eyes piercing hers, seeing the need in them. Taking her hand, he leads her out, her heart pounding in her chest. Everyone, everything fades from her. Only the fire that now rages. Not caring where he was leading, just that he was. Into a dark corner on the balcony looking upon him, “phantom of the opera”, no he would never pick such a costume, would he? Again, a moment of doubt creeps in, but it only serves to excite her more. Pulling her to him, crushing her to him. His lips finally find hers, his tongue parting her lips. Lost, her control given over to her body and the fire that burned inside her. Their lips part, softly, pleadingly, take me is all she says. She turns, pushing back against him, she can feel him, his need for her too. Their body’s screaming for release, she frees him from his constraints and pulls him to her. He finds her hot and wet, ready for him. He enters her with one swift motion, taking her breath away for a moment, and in the next climaxing. Moving faster, harder, his thrusts more demanding of her. His own orgasm building in him, wanting him too. She explodes as he cum’s inside her. He is supporting her now, her legs weak. Still insider her, still hard, still needing more of her. Picking her up, cradling her in his arms. He carries her down the steps, down a path to the water's edge. putting her down, he engulfs her, his hands quick and nimble as he strips her of everything but her mask. Standing before him now, a shiver runs down her spine, is this really him? With a bit of a flourish, he lays out his cape. She watches him as he undresses. Noting the strength of his arms, his chest, and legs. Standing, bathed in the moons glow, neither moving, not wanting to rush the moment. An eternity seemed to pass between them, and then she was beneath him. Lips joined bodies entwined together. Their hand roaming, caressing. The fire now she can no longer contain, climbing on top of him, she begins riding him, grinding on him. Brilliant lights flash through her mind as orgasms wash over her. Faster and harder they slam their bodies together. Getting harder, thicker, she knows he is on the verge. Yes, cum, cum is all she can muster. Oh god, so good, yes, now! His body tense, his orgasm, filling her. Exhausted, they lay looking up at the stars that fill the night sky. No words spoken, again she looks upon his mask covered face, and once more the question came unto her, “is it him?”. Yes, yes it HAD to be him. Or WAS it?

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