Masquerade

With a shiver I closed the book. Edgar Allan Poe's "Masque of the Red Death" always held a certain morbid fascination for me, no matter how often I read it. I finished the last drops of the red wine on my bedside table and turned off the light. Cuddling into my covers as if they were the arms of a fantasy lover I surrendered to the misty shrouds of dream land that seemed to reach out to me with foggy fingers.

"Masquerade, Masquerade – grab your masque and don't be late ..." I hadn't been listening to the Halloween song for ages, now it was humming in my head as a bunch of wild revelers took me by the hand and pulled me away into a mad polonaise. Without a will of my own, helpless to resist the flow of the insanely dancing crowds, I was washed away. Surrounded by colors and forms, suddenly as bright as the rainbow, then again without distinction of shapes or colors, I drifted away to unknown places.

And then I started to see. Closer looks revealed costumes of all kinds – birds of paradise with mighty plumage and heavy beaks, ghostly dancers seeming to be only skin stretched over bones, baroque Ladies, with powdered wigs and pale faces, but brightly glowing cheeks and oversized beauty spots, their once precious gowns tattered and torn, but they seemed not to care.

A feverish mood engulfed the weird company I found myself part of. The laughter and fun were on the brink of hysteria it seemed – and although there was music playing and people talking and singing I felt like I was wrapped into invisible layers of cotton wool.

As little as the sounds seemed to reach my conscious mind though, as clear, almost exaggerated, was my awareness of the touches of the crowds.

The further we went, the tighter the crowds seemed to get. I felt the tickle of the majestic feathers against my cheeks as we were proceeding further and further onward into the night under a violet moon. All of a sudden the moon was gone and I found myself in a giant ball room that seemed to have jumped right out of the old movies about kings and queens that held court in medieval times. Alas, there was no sign of the expected splendor. The flags hung ragged and limp. The tapestry faded a and worn – and an air of decay covered the room like a layer of spider webs, invisible and unnoticed till you give a closer look or find yourself entangled in them.

Ghostly – that was the word. The music had changed to pipes and flutes, but the harmonies were distorted and shrill. Nobody seemed to realize or care. Slowly out of breath I was still pushed and pulled along by the insane polonaise that the crowds were dancing like puppets on strings. What had been light and careless fun all of a sudden seemed to swap into hysteria and all my attempts to break free and pause for a moment were rewarded with hands holding me tight in my place in line, by giant beaks dangerously pointing my way and defeating my attempts of breaking from the chain.

Down a long corridor we danced, barely lit by candles that were discarding a flickering treacherous light. Black curtains veiled the windows and the outside world seemed to have disappeared, leaving the revelers stranded on an island of insanity and decadence.

Faster and faster the colors whirled around me – leaving me breathless and without focus or orientation... till I stumbled. In a fit of panic I tried to grasp whatever came in my reach to steady myself, not sure if the milling crowds around would have even paused for a moment to let me get back onto my feet again. Nothing though – nothing that would support me, instead, malicious grins of those who realized I couldn't keep up the frenetic dance any longer.

Just when I fell, voicelessly screaming in silent horror, I was swept off my feet by one of the rainbow feathered birds and pulled out of the chain into a dark passage way. A few more steps and turns – and we were surrounded by silence.

Leaning against the wall, panting and shivering, my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. A sense of relief crept into my conscious mind and I turned to face my savior, intending to thank him. Behind the multicolored and elaborate masque I caught the sparkle of dark fiery eyes. And underneath the enameled beak seductive lips curled into a smile.

"Hush, don't speak ... it is all right, you will see ... are you ok to follow me a little further?"

And without awaiting my answer or allowing me any display of hesitation he took my hand, pulling me further down the deserted dark corridor. When my eyes settled on this feather-clad hand holding mine, I for the first time realized that I too must be wearing a costume. So far I hadn't seemingly been standing out in any way. Was I a bird too?

There – a reflection in a dull mirror that decorated the wall. Hadn't there been any mirrors before? I caught a glimpse of rainbow followed by a silvery-violet beam, reminding me of the moon outside under which I had entered the castle earlier. That was I – me – but not me… a distant me I was watching with delight – and then I was gone again.

My companion now pulled me into the shades of huge columns on a balcony, leading me to stand right at the edge. I felt him behind me, safely holding me tight, and placing a feather-gloved finger on my lips he forced me into silence and immobility. Below us I noticed an ocean of moving forms in all shades of the rainbow, but they were not dancing it seemed. The hysteric fast pace of the other chambers had made room for a more slow and sensual motion, like the giant waves on an oily ocean.

And then he whispered into my ear, pointing out little details I could see as if I was looking through a magnifying glass from our vantage point. A feathery hand sliding into a low cut dress, sliding the neckline lower and lower and displaying soft white flesh and a rosy nipple. And there lips meeting in a long and sensual kiss, tongues entwining and teasing, fighting a battle of sexes … or was it? As I looked closer I saw it were two women in an embrace as caring and loving as it could be.

My body started to wiggle against my unknown guide, pushing and brushing against him but he whispered "No – watch! There is so much pleasure in watching them…" and he held me tight and secure, captured.

My eyes now focused on another couple. The feathered masks were still in place but below the feathers had been shed and two magnificent men were caressing each other. Strong male hands tenderly stroking little nipples as erect as any woman's would be, strong male hands kneading a muscular back and finally strong male hands closing around hard flesh that stood proud and erect. I felt my skin turn hot, watching so much explosive lust displayed in such an uninhibited manner.

My head was turned another way and tingles, like an electric current, rushed through my veins. A woman was laying on her back, her hands and legs held apart by more feathered figures while more nude women were feasting on her deliciously curved body. Red lips sucking pink nipples, little velvety tongues delving into the depths of pink pussy lips, carefully manicured fingernails scratching and pinching soft white flesh, turning it into glowing shades of lively reds, causing the victim visible pleasure and no pain.

And in another corner there was a woman bent over, her mouth devouring a rock hard cock while another erect member assaulted her from behind, digging, tearing and pumping into her embracing flesh until white foamy spray covered the perfectly rounded ass cheeks.

Never had I thought that I could get pleasure by watching, by not being an participant – but how could I have been? I wanted to be each and every single one of the revelers below, share all the sensations they gave and got … impossible. But by watching from the dark shadows I could fly – become a part of the whole .. and drink in the wonderful details of each body – each caress – each embrace.

My eyes focused on a darker corner, on the lovely image of half-clad maidens. One was sitting on a chair, her eyes closed in sheer delight while another was lifting her ample cleavage out of the costume and started to gently nibble the milky flesh until the ruby nipples bloomed like roses. The other one knelt in front of her and slowly started to lift the skirts and petticoats, following the raising hem line with little kisses up the ankles, the calves, the knee and further up to the inner thighs before she disappeared underneath, the only visible sign of her activities the dreamy face of the receiver of her attention.

I felt my own juices flow, in my veins liquid fire was running, burning me to the core of my sexual self – but he forced me to watch, whispering to me about the pleasures to be seen, the pleasures displayed, shared for my pleasures by all below, the pleasure of the mental delights of sexuality as an enhancement to the physical sexual encounter.

I realized that only by watching I could get pleasure this time since I was not there – only a dream without any physical body. So close to my own climax was I taken, merely by watching this display of love making, of mouths kissing, lips touching, hands caressing and fondling, tongues licking and teeth nibbling, fingers pinching, arms supporting, hearts beating, breaths labored and fast. Sweat glistening, silent moans uttered – my eyes, ears and mind the only sex organs I had myself, no skin and hands of my own.

As if a spell had been cast over me, my eyes then settled on a feather-masked man in a high-backed chair. He too was totally nude except for the feathered gloves and his mask, but I could feel his gaze on me. He knew I was watching and although I felt I should turn away and leave him alone in this intimate moment I couldn't. All my modesty and manners had vanished, had been carried away on the flowing torrent of lava that had replaced my blood. But as I looked closer at the mysterious bird-man I saw him smile at me, inviting, encouraging. And I was lost, lost in him showing me his pleasure. His feather clad hands slid over his shining muscular chest, circling his nipples. Slowly the rainbow feathers slid down over his torso, lazily starting to play with the curls of his ebony pubic hair. Behind me I heard my companion whisper: "Your look on him is like a caress – watch him. The more you enjoy the more he does…" and as if he wanted to confirm the whispered words the bird-man licked his lips as finally his hand closed around his massive cock, his eyes through the slits of the masque locked with mine in the shadows of the balcony. Slowly up and down he started to pump his hard rod and realization struck me with a shiver. This stranger was on purpose masturbating for me to watch. This knowledge alone was more of an aphrodisiac than I had thought possible – it was his wish to be seen, to be watched, to share into his pleasure from a distance but as intimate as could possibly be.

The purple head of his cock vanished in a fist of rainbow plumage to reappear again, a glistening island bobbing in the waves of a feathery sea. Then I saw the sparkle underneath the mask vanish, he had closed his eyes now, abandoning himself to his pleasures in the knowledge I would watch him; tantalized – hypnotized. And then I could see his gorgeous body freeze for a second, that little heartbeat that speaks of the immanent eruption of the volcano of lust and pleasure. His eyes not were glowing under the mask as he forced me to share this moment of total abandon with him, and I felt myself lick my lips as his hot milky seed shot out and in thick globs fell back on his feather gloves, laying there like precious sparkling diamonds, a precious and generous reward for his efforts.

And then I felt it, the wave of a tremendous orgasm starting to wash over me, making my own breath speed up and become ragged, making my own hands shiver and shake, letting me feel all I saw below. I felt my knees give way and my body go limp and surrender to the intense sensations and emotions of an all engulfing climax.

I leaned back into the secure and caring arms of my unknown companion – to find him gone and I fell, back, down into the colored swirl of costumes and bodies below. But they gave way and my dream land slowly vanished into the foggy embrace of reality… and left me panting, shaking and deeply satisfied in my bed under my caressing covers, yearning for more images to nurture my new found sexual organ – my eyes.