Forward: This story is complete fiction. It’s part of a book I have written about a character oddly enough named Gypsy. Please enjoy, but understand, none of this is real.

Have you ever been bitten and felt a pang of excitement? A small wave of pleasure as the teeth pushed into your flesh? She hadn’t until a recent client, and then, my addiction began. He paid an extra ten grand to bite her in addition to the usual suck and fuck. She’s had a few bite her in the past, but nothing could compare to this one.

 Arriving at the hotel ten minutes early, Gypsy smiled the moment she walked into the building. If you could afford to stay here, your bank account was something she wouldn’t mind raping a few times over. Since going out on her own from the agency, she was more exclusive with her clients now. She could afford to be picky these days.

 The place covered in chandeliers, and dripping money, Gypsy fit right in. She was a Kennedy, and old money trumps new money every day of the week. Her family had more influence on the economy than any other, but tonight, she was just a whore looking to get paid for her services. Nothing wrong with the oldest profession in the world, right?

 “Miss Kennedy, you’re expected in room 247 for your meeting,” said the desk clerk.

 Gypsy wondered if he knew what she was going to the room for a meeting this late in the day? Probably not, but when she thought about how dirty it was, she was already slightly excited. On the way to the second floor, she took a moment in the elevator to pull her nipples to a stiff peak. You only get one chance to make that first impression. Gypsy sucked in a deep breath, her teeth raking over her bottom lip, she shivered from head to toes in anticipation.

 As the exited the elevator, the door to the room opened, her client filling the doorway with his massive frame. He was at least a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier. For a first time meeting, she found this man intriguing and hadn’t even spoken yet.

 “Miss Kennedy, I’ve been expecting you. Come in,” he said.

 He had a slight British accent, and the suit he wore tailored, not off the rack. Gypsy knew the difference.

 “As I told you, tonight would be quite different for you. I would like for you to remove all of your clothing and return. You may leave the articles in the bathroom on the counter. There will be hangers for you to use,” he said.

 She did as told, removing each article of clothing and inspecting her body once before rejoining the male. Usually, she would add some perfume, but tonight, he requested all perfume and lotion omitted. It wasn’t that he was allergic, but most of those taste horrible.

 As he moved through the room, his hand found hers. His eyes were avoiding Gypsy’s body, though the normal man would find her breathtaking. The was nothing ordinary about this man.

 “I want you to lay on the bed on your stomach. I have placed two pillows on the bed. You will bend over them and expose your backside to me,” he ordered. “Once you are there, you will not move, though you are allowed to moan and whimper. No screaming. We don’t want to alert the other hotel guests, do we?” he asked, though no reply expected.

 A simple nod given, she laid across the bed, her ass in the air, and her hands gripping the bedding out of habit, not need. His clothing removed from her view. She felt the breeze on her flesh with each item he took off. Curiosity had her shaking over every inch of her body. It’s always the unknown that puts you on the tallest ledge. She was on edge the moment he climbed on the bed behind her, his nose trailing from her ankle to that cute little crease below her ass. The warmth of his breath covered her entire body in a blanket of chills. Her fingers knotted tighter in the sheet, and he hadn’t even bit her yet. The first rake of his teeth brought a small yelp from her lips, though it didn’t hurt. It was the shock of the pressure that sent waves of lust flowing through her veins.

 “Oh fuck,” she growled.

 With a quick slap to her ass, he would warn her for the first time. He did not believe that a woman should ever use profanities. She would learn quickly for every action, there is a reaction, and she might not always like what he used as a reinforcement. His teeth claimed the spot that now held his handprint. He bit down until the marks of his teeth were in the middle of the palm. For dental record purposes, the scores were flawless. She would check later to see if any teeth were longer than the others. Maybe this man thought himself to be a vampire. Would blood be drawn tonight? She hoped it would.

 “Do you like to be bitten?” he asked.

 Nodding her head, she acknowledged that she did, but for Gypsy, it was more so that she liked to bleed for someone. The scar that would forever be on her should prove that. “I do,” she whispered, her head now tilted to the side, resting on the crisp white pillow.

 His teeth claimed the other side of her ass; this time, he forced his teeth to break the skin. A small river of blood pooling in the crack of her ass. Her tiny asshole now a pool of crimson honey. The more it filled, the more his mouth slurped at her asshole, his tongue pushing inside to make sure he devoured every drop of the fluid.

 “Please,” she cried, “Please bite me again. Harder!”

 From one thigh to the next, his teeth pressed into her flesh, each time cutting her with the stark white blades inside his mouth. If she cried, his hand reminded her of the directions she was to follow, and if she moaned, a finger danced over her swollen clit. When the small bundle of pleasure erect, he pushed her knees up and claimed the treasure with his teeth. A shake to the right and left scared her more than death. She loved sex, and cumming was something she had become addicted to having. Even when alone, she would make sure her day started and ended with an orgasm. Releasing, he sucked the honey button into his mouth, stimulating her until she cried out in relief, her cunt juices pouring from her pussy walls.

 She pushed her mouth to the pillow to muffle screams. Every inch of her body felt like the tip of a match resting on her flesh.

 His cock in his hand, he stroked, smearing the head with her blood. It wasn’t until he was ready to cum did he force his cock into the throbbing walls of her cunt, fucking her until he shot every drop of cum deep inside of her throbbing pussy walls. The night ended with her covered is teeth prints and twenty grand in her bank account. It wasn’t a bad day at work for the young woman.

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Below is the questions asked, and the results.

Hair

Black: 50%

Brunette 20%

Redhead 10%

Blonde 20%

Tits

A 25%

B 30%

C 30%

D 15%

Weight

95-110 – 20%

110-150 – 60%

150-200 – 15%

200+ 5%

Height

This was to broad to pick. Most said from 5 ft to 6 ft.

Shaved/Bald

No hair – 15%

Bush – 85%

Dominate/submissive

Most agreed that a dominate/aggressive woman would be their preference.

Are you surprised? I can honestly say that I am a little surprised. When we think of the All American woman most would say busty, blonde, with a tiny waist and a big butt. As you can see, that wasn’t the response with the men that I questioned.

According to Vocal Media the list of perfect women include:

Kim Jai-Soo

Zendaya

Deepika Padukone

Bella Hadid

Hande Eurcel

Gal Gadot

Margot Robbie

Emma Watson

Priyanka Chopra Jonas

Lily Collins

My ideal of the perfect woman is a little different than these, though all are beautiful. If I had to choose one woman that to me was the most outstanding in looks, it would be Vivien Leigh. Her beauty was unmatched, but it was her sass that really sunk me. In the role of Scarlet O’Hara she was a force to be reckoned with. Mouth, brash, and knew how to drive a man wild. Those eyes could melt the soul, but the wickedness behind them was devastating.

In all honesty, is there really a perfect woman? No, but some will still take your breath away and frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!

For fun I asked AI to make me the perfect woman using a generator. What do you think?

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She screamed, her voice filling the room with echoes of lust. There is no love here, just the physical use of another body for self-satisfaction. He plunges into her soul again and again as greed runs rampant in his mind. A fuck of the mind and the soul become one, losing the world around them for a hit of pleasure. Slipping deeper into her core, his weapon of mass destruction bruising the silken walls of her velvet flower. Rage for satisfaction, her nightmares building as she calls out for God, the man of the hour for all who need a fucking release.

The post 100 words of lust – It was consensual appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

The debate surrounding pubic hair grooming, particularly in the context of the female genitalia, has sparked considerable controversy and discussion in recent years. This essay aims to explore the contrasting perceptions and societal attitudes towards hairy versus bald vaginal hair.

Cultural and Historical Context:

Throughout history, attitudes towards pubic hair grooming have varied significantly across different cultures and time periods. In ancient civilizations such as Egypt and Greece, pubic hair removal was practiced for hygienic reasons and as a symbol of cleanliness and beauty. However, in other cultures, such as some indigenous tribes, pubic hair was left untouched and even adorned as a symbol of fertility and maturity.

Evolution of Grooming Practices:

In contemporary Western societies, the mainstream media, pornography, and societal norms have played a significant role in shaping perceptions of pubic hair. The rise of pornography in the 20th century, in particular, has often depicted hairless genitalia as the epitome of femininity and sexual desirability. As a result, many individuals, especially women, have felt pressured to conform to these standards through various grooming practices such as waxing, shaving, or laser hair removal.

The Case for Hairy Vaginal Hair:

Advocates for natural pubic hair argue that it is a normal and healthy aspect of human anatomy. They contend that pubic hair serves a protective function by trapping bacteria and preventing friction during sexual activity. Moreover, proponents of pubic hair autonomy advocate for personal choice and bodily autonomy, rejecting societal pressures to conform to arbitrary beauty standards. For many, embracing their natural pubic hair is an empowering act of self-acceptance and defiance against unrealistic beauty ideals.

The Case for Bald Vaginal Hair:

Conversely, proponents of hair removal argue that it is a matter of personal preference and hygiene. Many individuals prefer the aesthetic of a hairless genital area, viewing it as cleaner, smoother, and more visually appealing. Moreover, some argue that grooming practices such as waxing or shaving can enhance sexual pleasure and intimacy by increasing sensitivity and reducing friction during sexual activity. Additionally, the influence of media and pornography has perpetuated the perception that hairless genitalia are more attractive and desirable.

Societal Expectations and Pressures:

Despite the growing movement towards body positivity and self-acceptance, societal expectations surrounding pubic hair grooming persist. Women, in particular, often face scrutiny and judgment based on their grooming choices, with hairiness or lack thereof being unfairly associated with cleanliness, femininity, and sexual desirability. This pressure to conform to narrowly defined beauty standards can have detrimental effects on individuals’ self-esteem and body image, leading to feelings of inadequacy or shame.

Moving Towards Acceptance and Diversity:

Ultimately, the debate over hairy versus bald vaginal hair reflects broader societal attitudes towards beauty, sexuality, and bodily autonomy. It highlights the importance of embracing diversity and challenging rigid beauty norms that dictate how individuals should look and groom their bodies. Instead of policing others’ grooming choices, we should strive to create a culture of acceptance and inclusivity, where individuals are free to express themselves and make decisions about their bodies without fear of judgment or shame.

In conclusion, the hairy versus bald vaginal hair debate is a complex and multifaceted issue that reflects broader societal attitudes towards beauty, sexuality, and personal autonomy. While some advocate for the naturalness and autonomy of pubic hair, others prefer the aesthetic and hygiene benefits of hair removal. Ultimately, the key lies in embracing diversity and respecting individuals’ choices and autonomy over their bodies, free from societal pressures and judgment. Let’s discuss this in detail.

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THE STORY BELOW IS PURELY FICTION. NOT A SERVICE THAT I OFFER

Can Blackmail be a therapeutic release? You will need to ask the person living moment to moment in fear of losing everything they love. All my life I’ve been the girl that people went to and confessed their darkest dreams and desires. I’ve told each one that their secrets are safe with me, but my little black book better never get in the wrong hands. Some have a lot to lose, and others, well, they deserve the pain.

“My name is Gypsy, and welcome to my office. If you would have a seat over on the couch, I’ll need to get a little information before we start. What brings you to see me today? I want you to know, everything to say is safe with me. So, don’t worry. I have your best interest in mind.”

He sat on the couch, hands in his lap as he tried to control the shaking. How do you tell someone what he felt inside? Maybe a drink would help. At this point, it couldn’t hurt.

“May I have something to drink. Whiskey if you have it,” he whispered.

Such a tiny voice for a big man. He would be far too easy to manipulate. I nodded before turning my back to make the drink. What he didn’t see was the crushed addition of two little blue pills. Viagra would loosen his tongue and the belt on his pants. Men like him are far too easy to control. Blackmail will prove to be fun on this one.

“Of course, you can. Drink up. A little something to warm those bones up,” I laughed. I meant loosen the tongue, but bones will work fine too. Poor thing looked so scared.

I handed over the drink, stopping to watch as he gulped down about a 1/4 of the glass. This would go better than expected if he was as nervous as the shaking in his hands. I reached down and took his free hand, placing it on the other side of the crystal goblet to steady him.

“Drink all you need. This is a free zone and nothing is sacred here. I promise to never judge you for anything you say or do,” I smiled.

His hands lowered along with his eyes. The glass now pressed against him groin to steady the fluid. “I need someone to take control of my life. I can’t control it any longer,” he whispered.

Bingo. I knew I made the right choice when I placed the Viagra in the drink. Soon, he will be under my thumb and crying for release. Of course, he will have to pay a hefty price to feel any lightness in his balls. I might have a good heart, but my rates will change his perspective of this whole appointment.

He twitched in his seat after finishing the drink. I knew that he was on fire. It amused me more than it should, but then again, he is the one who came to me.

“Ma’am, I have to problem. I have to stroke my cock before I explode,” he begged.

A simple nod of my head gave him the approval he sought. Watching his cock slip from him pants and his hand feverishly stroke, it began. I asked all the questions that would destroy this man if he didn’t do as I said. Things that no wife or family would ever want to hear, I know knew about. Believe me when I say this, I remember everything told to me.

As he screamed out the name and numbers to everything I wanted to know, he shot in the air and covered his face with his own cum. Not a bad first start to this new relationship. He’s to visit weekly now, and before he left, I whispered one finally thing.

“I own you!

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This is just a little fun holiday cheer. Nothing is real unless you allow the mind to create it.

I had turned 18 and had my first job. Well, it wasn’t a paying job, but I was an intern in a doctor’s office. Since my original goal in life had been to be a Physician, it was only fitting. Old Doc Johnson had been the one to deliver half the people in town, and he was a notorious womanizer. He even delivered me.

The office party took place at a local party event place, but this should have happened in a smut den, to be honest. Ordinary people who work 9-5 in suits and ties lost their minds that night. As an 18-year-old girl who had spent most of her time studying for college exams, I couldn’t believe my eyes. These people go crazy when you add alcohol.

My cup filled with a little holiday cheer snuck in, of course. One of the older nurses loves me, and she takes care of her little one. That’s what she called me—little one.

I wore a simple black skirt, a festive red sweater, and some black heels. I was still young and a little naive at this point, well, not after this party.

“Gypsy, honey, come and meet the mayor. He saw you from across the room and wanted to say hello to you.”

I shook his hand and realized at that moment. I had made a new friend. One who could do things for me that were beyond imaginable for a kid like me. This is the night I realized how crooked a city official was. I realized that they were the most perverted Men on the planet too.

Filling my glass over and over again, I was a little dizzy, but I know that I saw the Doctor dressed like Santa. He had my favorite nurse bent over a table, and that was a detailed internal exam. His cock was the instrument of choice.

He fucked her till his candy cane shot cream, and she screamed, “HOHOHO.”

The mayor was different, though. He asked me to go back to his room. He wanted to show me how to get my college paid for. Imagine coming from a middle-income family. They are struggling with your med school tuition, and a man offers you a lot of money. You do what you have to do to help your family out. I did things that disgusted me, but in the end, I got what I needed.

The room decorated in Christmas decor. Santa had me change the moment I walked in. I guess I was the one that fit the costume. An elf named Gypsy came out of that bedroom and stood before a grown man dressed as Father Christmas. Not Santa, but the old German version of St, Nick.

In his hand was a stick. That old walking stick that the mean Santa uses to punish the bad kids.

“Come here, little Gypsy. Have you been a good girl this year?”

Of course, I said no. I didn’t know what to say, to be honest. Santa made me lay across his lap, and he pulled my pants down, exposing my cheeks. Though he carried a stick, he used the hand on my cheeks.

One

Two

Three

He swatted my ass till it was bright red. Rubbing over the flesh, I could feel from his hands, he never worked a day of hard labor in his life. They were silky smooth sort of a turn off for me to know that he was a paper pusher.

“Have you learned a lesson, my Dear?”

Shaking my head to the right, then the left, I knew it was better to say no. He didn’t want to know that three swats on my bare ass had cured me. What fun was that? He sent me back to the party with his number and a few hundred dollars in my hand. The next day and we would arrange for me to work in his office. Guess that was the day I realized that being a doctor wasn’t what I wanted. I could make so much more money being a little toy for a filthy old Man!

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First of all, thank you all for the amazing comments and feedback about our phone sessions. I’ve been in the phone business for awhile, and this time in my life has been the best. I honestly have met some of the best people and consider some really dear friends. Niteflirt has been an amazing platform for me, and allows me to still have time to write, and do things that enhance my life.

I’ve always prided myself on my creative mind and open to new things personality. I will admit that I don’t shock easy, but a few of you have opened my eyes to things that I never thought others would enjoy. So, thank you for that. If there is anything you want me to change or enhance, let me know. That includes the blog.  I don’t know what you enjoy if you don’t tell me.

Check out my niteflirt page to see for yourself. Again, thank you all for your love and support.

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When did I fall from grace? I am not sure there was an exact moment, but when it happened, I couldn’t go back. I knew that the like of sin was the one for me. First off, let me begin by saying I have always been a good Catholic. Private girls school, catechism classes, and my life given to God in a huge ceremony. My family went all out for the party afterwards, but something shut off inside of me that day. The light inside of me suddenly went dim and dark. Maybe it was walking in on the family Priest and one of the altar boys, or that I found porn hidden under the family bible. Either way, I think all of it added up to who and what I am today.

One of my first diabolical acts was so bad that I might have sealed my passage into hell. If not, I am damn close to ending up in the hottest place on earth. Closing my eyes, I can still remember it all.

Sunday morning was always a dreaded day for me. Who wants to get up when they don’t have to and sit through mass? Not me. I would rather be laying on the beach drinking a margarita. The night before I had pulled out a short pink skirt, white blouse, and some stockings. You know, the ones with the lacy elastic band around the thighs. Sitting on top of the perfectly folded clothing was my rosary. I had gotten that very one when I was still a child. A gift from my parents for getting straight A’s. God forbid they just give me money like everyone else’s parents did.

It was at that very moment when I knew today would be different. Slipping on the outfit, I made sure there was not a wrinkle to be seen. Another pet peeve of my mothers is wrinkled clothing. That woman even irons her undies. Other than the rosary, the last thing was my 5 inch spiked stiletto heels. I love the way they make my legs look. I sat on the edge of the bed in front of a full length mirror and spread my legs. Did I mention that I forgot the panties? Well, I did. Rolling the beaded part of the rosary up, I pushed them in my tight bald pussy and left the cross to dangle out. Perfect accessory for that outfit. Pushing it back and forth over my lips, I felt a tingle deep inside. I was getting wet just from the thought of going to church this way.

Holy Innocents Catholic Church was the one I chose. It’s not my home church, but I thought better of going there. My parents would attend and well, nothing good could happen if they did. I would never do something like I had planned with them around. The moment I walked into the building, my nose burned from the pungent aroma of incense. Rubbing my fingers under each nostril, it was impossible to fight that odor. For fuck sakes, it was so strong that I would be shocked if some old person didn’t have an asthma attack. I have perfect lungs and still found it hard to breathe.

Stopping only to apply holy water, I did a second dip, but this time not for my forehead. One glance around and my nimble little fingers slipped to my lower lips, blessing the cross that dangled from my pussy. I knew it wasn’t possible, but a spark of electricity raced through my pulsating veins. I had never in my life felt so alive as I did at that moment.

Pushing forward, the only seat I wanted was in the front row. Nothing else would give me the satisfaction that I needed. Thankfully for me, the front row was completely empty, and the moment I sat on that well polished bench, a little clink from the rosary on the wood made me giggle. As my eyes scanned the room, I noticed the small table in front. Shit, it’s communion Sunday. I completely forgot about the date. Oh well, that might make this entire trip a little more fun.

Father Samuel Martinez was doing the service. I had met him one time in the past, but I was just a child and looked a lot different than I do now. He was middle aged when I met him before, but now, this man was closer to death than anyone I had ever known. Father Sam dressed in the traditional Priest garb, but then again, that’s what I wanted today. As he stood in front of the congregation spewing his words of how God gave his only son for our sins I decided to find out just how much is forgiven.

A glance to the right, then to the left, I moved in my seat, opening my legs enough to give the old man a clear view of my cross adorned pussy. Holding a bible in my hands, I whispered the verse he was quoting, but my legs stayed open. Peeking over the top of the tattered old book, there was no doubt that he saw my pussy. Adjusting the collar of his gown, the poor old man began to sweat. Dribbles of perspiration poured from his forehead as a smirk creased my lips. Knowing full well I had his attention, I pushed a hand between my legs and slowly pulled the rosary from my tight bald pussy. Bringing the cross to my lips nonchalantly, I kissed the crucifix, tasting my pussy for the first time. Sweet as honey, I sucked the little trophy between my lips, holding it there for a moment. It was at that moment that I might have gone a little too far.

Father Samuel clutched his chest, pointing to me as he fell from the altar. The funeral is next week. Should I wear black?

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It’s been a long week with the holiday and spending time with friends. I hope everyone had a safe 4th of July, and celebrated wisely. I’ve decided to do a weekly wrap up series just to give some insight on what I had going on this week.

Lot of calls on niteflirt, along with some hot times spent in chat. I do love when people chat me first to set up the call. It seems to help the call glide a bit easier. Plus it saves time and let’s us just right in the moment the phone rings.

I’ve added a few new blogs this week, and have decided to add a new section. A members password protected blog for those that take the time and subscribe to my mailing list. Along with a picture, you will get the password for that weeks blog. Nothing will be spammed and no unwanted emails. All that will be sent is a weekly wrap up for you to enjoy.

New blogs:

Erotic Story: The Rockstar

Conversations with the Devil

Naughty Bedtime Story (password protected)

I hope you enjoy my weekly announcement blog.

I did buy a new toy this week. At first I felt so dirty doing so, but next week I am celebrating my Birthday, so I deserved something naughty just for me. Once I get it in the mail I will tell you all about the experience.

As for my birthday, I do love gifts. Make sure to send me a tribute on niteflirt. I love when you all spoil me.

To wrap all this up, it’s been a good week. I am having dinner out with friends tonight, and seeing a movie. I hope to hear from everyone soon, and remember to sign up for my mailing list. You won’t be disappointed, and there will be a sexy picture arriving when you do. SUBSCRIBE HERE

The post Weekly Announcement July 9, 2023 appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I wrote this as an addition to a erotic anthology book that was published by a company. It has nothing to do with Gypsy, but not all my writing does. Enjoy.

A ball on Valentine’s day was so cliché, but that’s what the client wanted, and for
Vanessa, the client always came first. At twenty-four, the raven-haired beauty had
invested her life savings into a party planning business, and this was her first big break.
All she knew about her client was that he was single and had more money than he could
ever spend. In all honesty, that was enough for her to tackle the job one week in advance
of the party.

Masquerade party she will never forget.

“A masquerade party? Are you sure you want that?” Vanessa asked. Sebastian St. Clair
was a man of means. If he wanted something, people moved heaven and earth to make
sure he got everything he wanted and more. Vanessa would make this party the event of
the year for the Billionaire playboy. Every female in the city would die for that pale pink
envelope to arrive in the mail. The letters engraved by the finest craftsman, it would be a
claim to fame to even be in the room with Sebastian. He could make or break your social
status in one single night. Women like Vanessa never received invitations to events like
this, but this year, her name would be all over the society pages for handling the party of
a lifetime.

St. Valentine’s Day Ball was written all over the society pages in bright red letters. After
a week of no sleep, the clock rolled over, and the party was only hours away. Technically
not a guest, Vanessa knew she had to show up dressed to seduce. Not actually, but her
work would need to be the one thing that no one who attended forgot. Splurging half of
her pay on a new dress and shoes, she stood in the mirror in awe of the woman she saw.
Nope, that girl, whoever she was, looked nothing like Vanessa. Her raven hair pulled
back into a cascade of curls. She topped the outfit off with lipstick in the bloodiest shade
of red. The mask would cover the rest of her face, but her emerald green eyes would
make her unforgettable. That was the one part of her body, where she received the most
compliments.

The one thing she liked about a masquerade ball was that behind the mask, you could be anyone you want.

Bright lights lit up the sky. Vanessa even rented one of those Hollywood spotlights that
shined a heart in the sky. It was radiant. By the looks of the crowd waiting outside, there
was not only guests but onlookers hoping for a chance to sneak inside the event.
Thankfully, security was tight, and if your name wasn’t on the list, you didn’t get in. You
would be watching the event through a live stream only. Another added perk. This party
was visible via pay per view. Everyone loves to see how the upper-class live, but most of
all, they wanted a glimpse of 2021 most eligible bachelor. Some of the women on the
streets were better dressed than the ones with an invitation in hand.

The alcohol poured from fountains, the food, top-notch, but what Vanessa didn’t foresee
was the sexual energy in the air. Men and women dancing, none knew their partners’
identity, but the whole place dripped of sex. From the clothing to the masks, it was all a
mystery in the making. Who was who, not even the host, would know. If someone

hooked up here tonight, it would be pure sexual chemistry and not appearance, though
the outfits were divine. Feathers, lace, ribbons, and bows, the mask came with each
invitation, and the ensemble built around it. Of course, Vanessa kept the best for herself.
That little secret would stain her tongue forever. Like any other red-blooded female, she
felt the tingle the moment she laced the covering, slipping into a secret world of the
unknown.

Every I dotted and T crossed, Vanessa filled in as one of the invited. It was her way of
getting proper feedback from the participants. Humans can lie to save feelings, but she
wanted the truth. With a glass of white wine in hand, she wiggled her way through the
crowd. Her first stop was the bathroom. Females tend to gather around the sinks and
spill their guts. The restroom would be the one place she could find out how her party
rated on the social scales. What Vanessa didn’t foresee was the sounds coming from the
last stall. The party was a hit with at least two of the guests.

“Oh fuck, harder,” cried the female voice.

“Shut up, you’ll get us both busted,” the male growled.

Sounds of balls slapping skin, the scent of fuck was in the air. There is no way to hide the
smell of hot pussy when being fucked hard. Standing back against the wall, Vanessa
leaned down, watching the female in a pair of expensive black stilettos getting pounded
from behind by a man in Italian leather shoes. Even the walls of the small stall shook as
he thrust his cock inside of her dripping walls. She assumed the woman was wet by the
sucking sounds each time he lurched forward. Her eyes closed for a moment as the rush
of heat flooded through her body. Was she really getting off by two strangers fucking?
Yes, she most certainly was.

The grunts of lust signaled the finish to the fuck, giving Vanessa only seconds to get out.
She slipped from the room, but with a wicked lick of her lips, she made sure the door
slammed, so the couple inside knew someone caught them. Not that it mattered. Surely
that would be one of many trips to the restroom that night. Did it matter who that
couple was? No, but it took all Vanessa had to not look back at the door opened. She
would rather not know the identity of anyone tonight. Well, maybe the host, but he took
care of his own mask to ensure he would be hidden tonight.

Standing at the bar, Vanessa had the bartender refill her wine glass, but this time, with
water. It would pass for wine to an intoxicated person, plus give her the upper hand to
keep the party in order. That familiar feeling of being watched crept up her spine. A
glance into the mirror behind the bartender fed her the most intoxicating eyes she had

ever seen. His irises as blue as the ocean, she was lost in a hypnotic embrace for a brief
moment. It was like those scenes from a movie. Drawn closer by a glance, all sound
muted as though they were the only two in the room. Straining to blink, the moment her
eyes opened again, he was gone, or was he?

“Penny for those thoughts of yours,” the voice asked.

From behind Vanessa, a voice, that man, whoever he was, sent shivers up and down her
spine. She didn’t need to see him to know who it was. At times in life, you know
someone without ever seeing their face. Vanessa knew this was the stranger who already
had her panty’s damp with lust. Her pulse raced, breathing quickened, but she never
flinched. She didn’t want to move in fear that he was a fantasy she had made up in her
mind.

“My thoughts would not be appropriate for a crowded setting. I am more of a private
type of woman,” Vanessa whispered.

Without a word, the male took her hand, leading her to one of the few private rooms.
Brushing against others, her body charged with electricity. Every one of the guests
seemed lost in their own worlds just as she was.

The mysterious man pushed the door to the observation room open, inviting Vanessa
inside. The walls were made of glass, the kind that allowed you to look out, but the
crowd below couldn’t see inside. It was perfect for a voyeur. Vanessa wasted no time to
glance at the party downstairs. Her claim to fame was written all over the smiles of those
below. No one would forget tonight.

Pushed hard against the glass, Vanessa let out a deep moan when the male pressed
against her, flattening her body to the glass. Thankfully, it was security glass, and no
matter how hard of an impact it took, it would not shatter. They would test that theory
out tonight. “Open your legs,” he growled. His hand pushed down to cup her pussy from
behind. Fingers pushed hard against her swollen mound—his other hand pulling the
frilly red undies down and off. Instead of tossing them to the side, he pushed them into
his pants as a trophy for later. Some men collect numbers. For him, he collected the
most intimate item in a woman’s apparel.

He growls against the back of her neck as he forced fingers into her swollen walls. He
parted the delicate folds with force. Not one finger parted her. He plunged three to the
depths of her core. Her breath fogged the glass as she panted in approval. Was it the

events of earlier that set her body on fire, or could it be that her fantasy fuck was the
culprit in this warm rush of lust that pulsated in her veins? From behind, the man
dropped to his knees, his mouth immediately pressed against her lower lips. Swipes of
his tongue over her pouty pussy, he parted her ways with the tip of his tongue. Long
swipes of his oral muscle against her swollen bundle of nerves had Vanessa digging her
fingers into the unpenetrable glass surface.

“Oh fuck,” she cried, not wanting to cum. The tighter she squeezed, the more impossible
it came not to explode all over his face. Her mouth opened as screams of need
demanded she came. With a rush of juices pouring from her core, she came for the first
time. Waves of rapture tore through her body for what seemed like an eternity.

“Now, it’s my turn,” he chuckled. Standing behind Vanessa, one hand kept her face to
the glass as the other fumbled to release his cock from the confines of his pants. Pushed
down, he aligned the thick mushroom head of his cock against her opening, thrusting up
with one fluid motion. Inaudible sounds coming from the male, his hard dick repeatedly
pumped inside of her tight walls, the hold she had was almost as though she was
strangling the shaft. One after another, his cock pushed into her velvet walls with
incredible force. Sounds of his balls slapping against her soaked pussy echoed through
the walls of the small room. As Vanessa watched the party below, this mystery man
pounded his dick deep inside of her dripping pussy. Whimpering, her walls stretched to
take every inch of him inside, screaming each time he bottomed out.

“You’re a dirty fucking bitch,” he growled, his cock swelling inside of her. Vanessa knew
he was close, but when she began her descent, his cock exploded inside of her, flooding
her pussy with his seed. Rope after rope of cum blasting deep inside of her pussy walls.
No sooner had he came than he was gone. In a quick exit, he left her standing against
the glass with cum rushing from between her legs and the thoughts of who this man
was. After a quick clean up, Vanessa returned to the party but never found the man in
the mask.

Two days later, opening her email, Vanessa sat back in her chair in a state of shock.
Sebastian St. Clair’s email praised her work and contained a picture of her own panty
attached with a note.

“Vanessa, I need you to find the owners of these panties. We had a brief moment at the
party, and she left me unable to forget her. I’m sure you can find her for me. I have faith
in your discretion and ability to bring me my dirty little Cinderella of the ball.”

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