J Dean email@example.com
Casanova tilted his obfuscated visage upward and smiled an invisible smile. Standing atop the podium in the center of the ballroom, he briefly reveled in the power he possessed. The party was in his grasp until he chose to release it. Still... The party had to begin sometime. Pausing for just a moment to take in the sight of a thousand monstrous faces staring expectantly upward, he reluctantly let his hand fall.
The masquerade had begun!
As the band struck up and the sea of faces swirled as they began to dance, Casanova gracefully maneuvered his bulky frame down the steps to the floor. As Casanova of the masquerade, it was his duty - and his pleasure - to be the center of attention.
For the slender Pierrot in the eastern corner of the ballroom, however, pleasure was a distant concept. His masque itched and his robe was too hot, causing his face-paint to run with the sweat on his brow. He really was unsure why he had come at all. A fundraiser dance for AIDS research had sounded like a great idea, but the immersive atmosphere of the masquerade was a little too much. The lack of a date didn't help much either.
With a sigh that rippled his sequined robe, the Pierrot wandered off into the crowd, vainly hoping to mingle.
At the other end of the ballroom, Casanova was living it up. Nothing was denied him. After all, who could say no to Casanova? The slender Paige in his gold half-masque certainly couldn't. Casanova reached out and snapped him up, pulling him by his taut buttocks into a sensual and passionate dance. The boy took it all in stride, sliding his lean body sensuously around Casanova¡¯s; letting his hands slip oh-so-gently into all the right places. Casanova moaned softly as the Paige reached his hand through his split, loose sleeve, fingers fluttering like butterflies across Casanova's hard chest. Looking over the Paige's shoulder, Casanova noticed that they had attracted the attention of two Dames, both in drag. His eyes were quickly forced closed with ecstasy at the Paige's ministrations, however. As the Paige's fingers flickered gently over Casanova's nipples, he was rewarded with a gasp and a quickening of breath from the Masquerade King. As the music built ever upward, their furtive movements grew ever swifter.
Casanova reached out to grasp the Paige's very visible arousal, slowly turning the Paige's balls around each other with his thumb. In response, the Paige gently began to stroke with his other hand up and down the prominent bulge in Casanova's robe, causing Casanova's hand to tremble ever-so-slightly around the Paige's balls. The Paige suppressed his groan by gently tonguing around Casanova's ear, grunting and moaning softly, each shuddering breath a new wave of arousal washing over Casanova. Suddenly, as though at a predetermined signal, Casanova and the Paige twirled apart, letting the dance pull them away in separate directions, with Casanova only pausing to grasp the "breasts" of one of the Dames and reach jauntily up the skirts of the other. The party was still young, and nobody had any intention of cuming just yet! Letting out a hearty laugh, Casanova danced off in search of more fun.
Meanwhile, things were not going well for the Pierrot. His initial determination to mingle was quickly replaced with confusion. The second he stepped into the crowd, he felt a pinch on his ass. He spun around indignantly, only to come face-to-face with a creature from his worst nightmares! Letting out a blood-curdling shriek, the Pierrot cut a comical figure as he hiked up his sequined "skirts" and sprinted away at record speed. The Oni Dancer grinned impishly to himself and, chuckling, resumed his dance, miming the event with his fingers as he twisted his shimmering body from one bizarre position to another.
The poor Pierrot, however, was nowhere near as amused. Still quivering nervously, he ricocheted modestly from dancer to dancer, fleeing the too-intimate hands of one right into the lusty arms of another. The Pierrot finally managed to lodge himself in a calm spot at the center, gasping for breath. His headwas spinning so badly from the mixture of embarrassment and fear that he didn't notice the approaching figure until it was too late to escape. As he would later relate it, the appearance was a sudden one. One moment the Pierrot was alone with his thoughts, and the next, he was caught up in the lascivious swirl of sequined silk that was Casanova.
The Pierrot wasn't the only one startled by the sudden contact. Casanova had been expecting the Pierrot to be just like every other partner he had been with that night - hot, lustful, and full of fun. Instead, he was stuck with an armload of quaking Pierrot. For a moment he considered simply tossing the Pierrot aside and dancing on, but something about the Pierrot stopped him. With a flourish, Casanova spun the Pierrot behind a column, then snapped a smart pirouette in pursuit.
The indignant Pierrot reached up to fend off yet another advance, but Casanova minced around his outstretched arms and reached to flip the Pierrot's masque up. "Tu es timide, non?" inquired Casanova. "Est-ce que tu es fatigue, ou es tu - " Casanova's voice cut off in midsentence as his eyes came to rest on the Pierrot's face. "Hey! Was machst du?! Verpi©¬ dich!" shouted the Pierrot, scrabbling indignantly at his masque. Casanova wrapped his bulky arm around the Pierrot, pinning his arms down to his sides. Ignoring the multitude of incomprehensible German swears that were pouring out of the Pierrot's mouth, Casanova reached up and slid his masque upward and back, tucking it neatly under the cowl of his cape. The Pierrot's mouth snapped shut in mid-"verdamnt," then dropped open and worked open and shut soundlessly.
It was "Casanova's¡± eyes that struck the "Pierrot" first. They glittered in the candlelight with the soft, metallic gleam of iridescent beetle shells. Tracing the face's contours with his eyes, the Pierrot's focus slowly drifted downward, across the stubble-roughened cheeks, over a perfect, chiseled nose, sliding down the curve of the philitrum, and finally coming to rest at those too-perfect lips, parted so invitingly...
A sudden flash of conscience caused the Pierrot's gaze to snap back up to meet Casanova's. Reflected in those gorgeous eyes, the Pierrot could see his own face as Casanova perused its features; the soft-edged grey eyes, the stern turn of his nose, his stately chin, and his lips... freshly moistened by a deftly flitting tongue, gravitating ever closer as they tilted ever-so-slowly to the side...
At fist their lips just lightly brushed, the last vestiges of self-control creating a kiss like the touch of two butterflies brushing the tips of their dusty wings together as they drink from adjacent flowers. The shock of contact awakened something base in both of them, and the butterflies became as eagles, savagely and passionately meeting in flight. Of its own accord, the Pierrot's hand drifted forward, reaching to meet and interlace with Casanova's.¡¡"Ich hei©¬e Wolfgang," gasped the Pierrot between panting breaths, breaking the kiss to move in closer to Casanova's body, reaching up to feel the quickening heartbeat in his heaving chest. "Je m'appelle Denis," moaned Casanova, nearly losing the last syllable of his name as he drew Wolfgang's lips up to meet his again. Wolfgang's lips gently parted, allowing Denis to slide his tongue through. Scratching Wolfgang's face with his stubbly beard, Denis pressed his face firmly against the other man's, reaching deeper to run his tongue across the smooth surface of Wolfgang's teeth. The pressure of arousal on arousal was making itself known, and the fronts of both men's robes were bulging outward from the force straining within, demanding release.
Unlacing his fingers from Denis', Wolfgang slowly reached his hands around the larger man, sliding his hands down the small of Denis' back and letting them come to rest atop his sculpted, firm gluts. With a strangled noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, Wolfgang flexed his toned biceps, pulling Denis' erection up against his. The heat and pressure shared by their malenesses filled every corner of Denis' consciousness, and his hips began to involuntarily flex and relax, sliding his sizable bulge against the German's straining member, separated only by four thin layers of cloth. Moistness began to blossom on the surface of their dark robes as copious amounts of pre-cum finally soaked through. Moaning in delight around Wolfgang's swirling tongue, Denis' knees slowly began to bend. They maintained the kiss until Wolfgang could bend no further, then Denis reluctantly exchanged one kiss for another.
Gently tracing his tongue around the hard outline in the fabric, Denis began to tongue-bathe the other man's warm arousal through the flimsy fabric. Reaching upward to cup Wolfgang's balls in his right hand, Denis began to scatter tiny kisses all over the length of his shaft. Carefully, so as not to cause any pain, Denis began to squeeze the warm handful. He was rewarded with a deep groan from Wolfgang and a broad hand on the back of his head, peeling off the cowl and masque so that it could tenderly stroke his hair. Planting a big kiss on the very tip of Wolfgang's throbbing member, Denis began to drag his tongue slowly up and down the length of the shaft, causing the other man to quiver with delight. The teasing was becoming too much for poor Wolfgang. All the misfortunes of the night forgotten, there was only one thing on his mind now: this wonderful man. Casting his gaze wildly from side to side, he spotted a curtain obscuring what appeared to be a closet. Roughly pulling Denis up off his knees and into a passionate kiss, Wolfgang began to move their intertwined bodies toward the curtain. Denis quickly caught on, and the two pushed up the curtain and slipped through the door into the closet. "Wieder wie du warst," Wolfgang said with a laugh, gently applying downward pressure on Denis' head to indicate what he wanted from the muscular Frenchman. Happy to oblige, Denis kneeled once again, this time reaching one arm up through the bottom of Wolfgang's robes. Pausing only to elicit a deep, shuddering moan by fondling the man's balls, Denis hooked a finger under the waistband of Wolfgang's briefs, slowly peeling the sticky cloth down Wolfgang's hirsute legs. Tossing the soaked undergarment aside, Denis began to slowly work his hands up Wolfgang's legs, running his fingers through the soft leg hairs as he carefully climbed upward towards his goal. Extending his index finger, Denis gently swiped at the honey-soaked tip of Wolfgang's cock. Swirling his finger around (amidst squeals of ecstasy from Wolfgang), Denis coated his finger all over with the other man's silky juices. Placing his finger between the firm mounds of flesh on Wolfgang's backside, Denis gently slipped his well-lubed finger up inside. Wolfgang's eyes bulged as soon as the digit entered him. Popping the catch on his robe, he let the garment flutter downward, shimmering like a waterfall running down his body to pour on top of Denis' head. Denis shook his head from side to side, laughing a sweet, rich laugh as the glittering fabric rolled down his back and onto the floor. The shaking had also run down Denis' arm to his finger, which rocked back and forth inside the soft, narrow tunnel, eliciting a husky "oGottoGott" from Wolfgang. Denis laughed again and regarded Wolfgang's engorged, dripping member with a smirk. "Bon appetit," laughed Denis as he leaned forward to take the tip of Wolfgang's cock between his soft lips. Instead of progressing further down, he simply held the very tip in his mouth, moving his head to cancel out Wolfgang's desperate thrusts. With a roguish wink, Denis deftly flicked his tongue over the sensitive flesh, sinking the very tip of his tongue just slightly into Wolfgang's slit. Then, still holding the tip between his lips, he smoothly slid another finger up inside, finishing the finger thrust with a sudden swift jab and a light nip that caused Wolfgang to cry out with pain and pleasure. The shock of the sensation turned his knees to jelly, and he slowly sank to the floor, with Denis following close behind. Smoothly parting those talented lips, Denis slid his face slowly down the long, slender shaft until his nose was firmly nestled up against Wolfgang's groin. Breathing in deeply, Denis filled his nose with the rich, intoxicating man-scent. Both men's eyes rolled back into their heads with delight, and Denis began to quiver with arousal, rubbing urgently at his neglected equipment.
Sliding his warm mouth off of Wolfgang's manhood, Denis planted a swift kiss on Wolfgang's cheek as he rolled him over using the two fingers still firmly embedded in Wolfgang. Leaning down again, Denis extended his tongue to gently lap at the sensitive flesh surrounding his fingers. With each swirl, Denis applied a little more pressure, until finally his tongue slipped down inside the warm, bitter wetness.
At this point, Wolfgang was in heaven. Moaning lustily, he began to push back into Denis' fingers, longing to be filled. "Ach! FICK MICH, DENIS!" The language of lust is a common tongue, and Denis spoke it rather well. Slipping everything out of Wolfgang, Denis broke contact for a moment to shuck off his sweat-soaked robe. That moment felt like an eternity to Wolfgang. He wanted Denis inside him, and he wanted it now! The gentle pressure at his entrance elicited a shuddering moan from Wolfgang. "Tu aimes?" Denis laughed at the German's reaction. "Weniger Sprach, mehr Krach!" snapped Wolfgang, every sinuous muscle corded with anticipation. As much as he wanted to keep teasing, Denis couldn't hold back any longer. Pushing tenderly, Denis slowly slid his length up into Wolfgang's heat, moaning hoarsely at the feeling of tight velvety smoothness enveloping him. Wolfgang let out a strangled cry of ecstasy as Denis entered him, a cry that subsided to bestial grunts as Denis' sizable manhood filled him near to bursting. Finally, at the end of that first long stroke, Wolfgang could feel the pressure of the big man's hips pressed intimately into his backside, and he relished the feel of Denis' balls resting against his own. Denis just held still in him for a moment, giving the smaller man a chance to adjust to the thick hardness buried deep inside him. Buried to the hilt, Denis leaned forward to gently kiss Wolfgang's neck as he lightly worked his hips from side to side, causing both men to shudder with delight. Slowly, Wolfgang began to flex and relax, working his muscles around Denis' thick member. To Denis it felt like a hundred hands stroking at once, each in a different but equally delicious way. Panting, Denis began to establish a slow rhythm, pulling back almost all the way out (causing Wolfgang to groan at the empty feeling), then sliding back down deep inside those talented muscles. Gradually he picked up speed, thrusting more and more urgently into the his handsome dance partner, their balls slapping together faster and faster. With one last mighty stroke, Denis rammed his member with all of his strength into Wolfgang's prostate. Howling like wolves at the moon, both men unloaded jet after jet of hot cum, Wolfgang's ass filling to overflowing with Denis' hot juices.
Still interlocked like puzzle pieces they collapsed to the floor, and Denis reached over Wolfgang to grasp one of the robes, pulling it over them like a blanket.
"Ich liebe dich," said Wolfgang, sleepily but sincerely.
"J'adore toi aussi," replied Denis, gently planting a soft kiss on his lover's cheek.
Then they both drifted off to sleep, Wolfgang encircled in Denis' strong arms.