Roxanne takes a night off from her busy career as head chef at a popular Houston restaurant and accompanies her best friend Casey to the infamous Manfredi Masque. To her surprise, Roxanne experiences one of the most erotic nights of her life. And afterward, she has not one, not two, but THREE devastatingly handsome men pursuing her. Can she navigate the crowded situation without hurting everyone involved? Or will these guys be her downfall?
Age Rating: 18+
Note: This story is the author’s original version and does not have sound.
Behind the Masque by Jessie F Royle is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.
Read the full uncensored books on the Galatea iOS app!
1
Roxanne takes a night off from her busy career as head chef at a popular Houston restaurant and accompanies her best friend Casey to the infamous Manfredi Masque. To her surprise, Roxanne experiences one of the most erotic nights of her life. And afterward, she has not one, not two, but THREE devastatingly handsome men pursuing her. Can she navigate the crowded situation without hurting everyone involved? Or will these guys be her downfall?
Age Rating: 18+
Original Author: Jessie F Royle
Note: This story is the author's original version and does not have sound.
I step nervously out of the black Lincoln town car and look skyward at the massive five-star Manfredi Hotel that ascends before me.
Standing at a staggering thirty-five stories, it’s the swankiest hotel in the city. Its modern architecture of shiny steel and windows looms over me.
I still can’t believe I let Casey talk me into this. I look down at my long strapless emerald green gown that hugs all my curves perfectly and accentuates my bust line.
It even has a long slit cut right up to my thigh. It’s beautiful and sexy, but not something I would normally choose for myself.
I’m a regular jeans and t-shirt type of girl, but tonight I felt daring.
Daring is a new thing for me, and this party is the epitome of daring. An exclusive soiree, hosted by the hotel owner and billionaire Spence Manfredi himself.
It is an invitation-only black-tie party; only a few select people are ever invited to this thing.
Casey’s new boyfriend Lucas, whom I have never met, works for Mr. Manfredi and was able to snag four invitations.
However, even if you have an invitation, you are required to send a photo of yourself to the party organizers for further approval one week beforehand.
I sent in an awkward photo of myself standing in my living room that Casey took last week when she told me about this party. Why?
I have no idea, because this party is so shrouded in mystery, that any type of media outlet is strictly prohibited.
Luckily, they deemed me worthy, was finalized on the guest list, and sent a little black card with the hotel name written in gold.
Neither Casey nor I have ever been to something like this, but according to Casey, her boyfriend is quite hooked up on the Houston social scene.
I would finally get to meet him tonight, along with a mystery man intended to be my blind date. Blind dates…ugh! I just haven’t found the time to date lately.
My job as head chef at a popular, and therefore busy steakhouse has taken care of that. Casey hassled me until I caved, so I managed to get the weekend off.
I steady myself on my five-inch matching satin green heels that make me feel like a giant; adding to my five foot six inches and make my way into the hotel lobby.
The doorman smiles appreciatively as he opens the door for me. Before I head to the ballroom, I decide to quickly re-inspect my appearance.
Just off to the side of the expansive lobby, I find the restrooms. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I carefully check that my hair and make-up are still perfect.
My make-up is still fresh looking on my fair-skinned face, the smoky eye shadow highlights my green eyes, and my lips are still glossy.
My long red hair still perfectly in place in a tight bun on the top of my head. I spent a good three hours getting ready this afternoon, and it has paid off.
Feeling pleased, I decide it’s finally time to make my way to the party. I pull my cell phone out of my small black leather clutch and check it. There is a text from Casey.
*Roxie, I’m going to be a little late. I’m stuck in traffic. Go in without me, I’ll be there soon I hope!
The message came only six minutes ago. I wonder why I didn’t hear it, then I realize my phone is on vibrate.
“Guess I’m on my own for a little while.”
Approaching the huge brushed steel double doors, I sigh to myself as I shove the phone back in my clutch and take a deep breath.
There are two intimidating guards in matching tuxedos standing watch at the door. I tentatively approach them.
“Invitation?” the man on the left asks me in a deep booming voice.
I pull it out of my bag and hand it to him. He studies it for a second then nods, handing it back to me. The one on the right opens the door for me.
I step across the threshold, and into another area that is sectioned off from the party. In here it’s a little different.
The walls are covered in a rich red fabric; against the wall is a very large shelving unit filled with shiny black boxes.
In front of the shelves is a long table draped with white fabric with four women in identical black gowns behind it, they all wear matching masquerade masks.
Not sure what to think about this, I approach the table, where one of the girls has a clipboard.
“Name?” she asks me, all business, as one of the other women starts scanning the shelves.
“Roxanne Vice,” I answer the woman, and she checks her list.
She eventually finds my name and her demeanor completely changes from business to friendly.
“Welcome to the Manfredi Hotel Miss Vice, and welcome to the Manfredi Masque.”
Her red lips curl up, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.
The woman who had been scanning the shelves comes over, places a box on the table in front of me and lifts the lid, revealing a beautiful mask completely adorned with peacock feathers and gold sequins around the eyes.
“Wow, it’s beautiful, and it matches,” I say happily as I carefully take it out of the box.
One of the women comes out from around the table and helps me to put it on.
“We have a vast selection,” she murmurs, securing it to my head.
“Now there are a few rules,” clipboard lady says as the mask is adjusted on my face, “First of all, do not remove your mask, at all,” she states, serious again.
“Second of all, don’t reveal your last name,” she continues; “only the party organizers have that information.
“The guests who attend this party like to stay as anonymous as possible, some even use false names if they wish.”
I frowned behind my mask, starting to feel a little trepidation. What kind of party doesn’t allow you to reveal your last name? If I wish to reveal it, then that should be up to me.
“What kind of party is this exactly?” I ask anxiously.
“It’s a masque ball, and it can be anything you want it to be.” She smirks and will not reveal any more.
“Thanks, that helps a lot,” I say dryly, but decide not to press her any further. A couple walks through the door behind me.
I wonder if I should just wait for Casey, but my curiosity gets the better of me, and I decide to go on in.
Another large man in a tuxedo, who I hadn’t noticed before, slides the red fabric aside. Revealing another door, he opens it, waving me through.
I take a few steps into the room before I stop and let my eyes adjust to the lighting before taking in my surroundings.
It’s dark except for the colored lights that twinkle around the room in all sorts of blues and purples, creating a very nightclub type of scene.
There is a giant dance floor in the center, and a DJ in the corner, playing some thumping bass-filled dance song. What? No string quartet?
Surrounding the dance floor are tables adorned with white satin tablecloths and large white pillar candles in varying lengths.
All the walls around the room are shrouded with black satin material that goes up to the roof and hangs in swags into the center of the ceiling, where a massive contemporary chandelier is hung.
Against the walls are various groupings of fancy cerulean and aubergine sofas and chairs.
More women dressed very much the same as the women who checked me in are walking around with trays of champagne.
They hand them to the many guests who already inhabit the space, all of them in tuxedos and gowns, each with a mask.
All of the men wear a simple black mask, and all of the women have differently designed masks that seem to accent their gowns nicely, not unlike my own.
Not knowing where to start, I head to the bar, where the bartenders are also in tuxedos and masks. I can see that it’d be easy to lose somebody in here with everyone dressed so similarly.
“What can I get you?” one of the bartenders asks me smoothly as I approach the counter.
“I’ll have a glass of white wine please,” I ask politely.
The man nods and quickly goes to the cooler to grab a bottle. I turn and lean against the bar, examining everything going on around me.
Besides the masks, so far it seems like a regular black tie affair, not that I’ve been to many of those before, but one thing that stands out is the fact that everyone that I see, appears to be attractive.
Was this the reason for the photo submission? Only those deemed attractive enough are permitted to attend? That seems kind of unreasonable, who are they to decide?
Of course, this is just my speculation, and it could just be a coincidence.
I hope that Casey arrives soon since I don’t know anyone here.
“Here’s your wine miss,” the bartender slides the glass toward me as I reach into my purse for some money.
“Open bar miss,” he informs me and shakes his head as I pull out a twenty.
“Really?” I gasp, disbelievingly.
“Of course. Mr. Manfredi wouldn’t have it any other way for his guests tonight.”
“Well, that’s a bonus,” I say happily back to him, and he nods and wanders off to help another guest.
I take the glass from the counter and take a sip. Wow! This is the best wine I have ever tasted; I wonder what it is, probably too expensive for my taste.
I set my glass back down and look around again, not feeling brave enough yet to try mingling with the beautiful strangers.
I glance down the bar, and I spot a man leaning against the bar, watching me from the end. From what I can see of his face, he’s got a smooth angular jawline, a nice straight-edged nose.
His dark brown hair and full lips remind me of a young Marlon Brando.
When I lock eyes with him, he smiles and raises his glass of what looks like whiskey or something on the rocks, and I raise my own glass slightly. Blushing underneath my mask, I offer him a smile.
He pushes away from the bar and saunters over. When he reaches me, he stands very close, too close for a stranger, but I don’t move away.
“Hi.”
He takes my hand in a very smooth, gentleman-like manner, and dips his head to kiss the top of my hand, “I’m John, what’s your name?” he asks, his voice deep liquid silk.
“Is that your real name?” I ask him, remembering the woman telling me of the fake names. A slow grin spreads across his face and he shrugs.
“Guess that’s for me to know, and you to find out…or not, I haven’t decided yet.”
“Oh really? Well, my name is Roxanne,” I tell him.
“Is that your real name?” he teases, rubbing his bottom lip with his index finger, and I can’t take my eyes off of it.
“I guess that’s for me to know, and you to find out or not… I haven’t decided yet either,”
I find myself flirting with him, feeling bold. I think it’s the mask. I use my real name because I don’t care to use a fake, but he doesn’t have to know that…yet, maybe.
I hated my name growing up, it reminded me of the Police song about the prostitute. My mother always had a thing for Sting, but she really didn’t need to take it that far.
I’ve grown to like it now, but my best friend Casey calls me Roxie, and that reminds me of a stripper’s name.
“Well, Roxanne, would you care to join me for a drink?” John, if that’s his real name, asks me.
“I thought that’s what we were doing?” I gesture towards my glass, and he laughs.
“I mean, would you care to take this to a more cozy location?”
He smiles and points to a dark corner with some empty sofas, lit only with the candles on the table. I swallow and nod my head at him.
“Great,” he offers his arm for me to take it.
I notice that he’s quite tall, just over six feet. He leads me over to the cozy area and gestures for me to take a seat.
I carefully sit down, trying not to rumple my dress too much, and cross my legs, causing the slit of my dress to ride up, revealing a lot of thigh, and the top of my black stocking.
I notice this and try to pull my dress down a little to cover it up. I look up at John who hovers over me, watching me.
“Please, don’t cover up on my account, I kind of like it.”
He smirks as he takes a seat on the sofa next to me, again very close. I lean into the sofa; it doesn’t have much give though.
John makes himself more comfortable and drapes an arm over the back of the sofa behind me.
“So, Roxanne, tell me about yourself,” he says as he takes a sip of his drink.
“What do you want to know?” I reply, lifting my own glass to my lips. I feel nervous and excited at once.
John’s cologne starts to drift to my attention, and its heady aroma causes me to shiver, although I feel quite warm.
“Tell me anything. Let’s start with something easy like, what do you do for instance?” he encourages, while staring at my legs.
“I’m a chef.”
I feel his eyes burning into me. He lifts his gaze from my legs and to my face.
“Really? Well, I love a woman who can cook,” he says with a smile. I stare at his eyes and notice they are dark chocolate brown, but that’s all I can tell from the protection of his mask.
“I’ve always enjoyed cooking, so I figured I could do something with it,” I explain, and he nods thoughtfully.
“What do you do John?”
I turn the attention away from myself, eager to know more about this handsome mystery man. He hesitates, seeming to think about it for a second before answering me.
“I’m in the hotel business,” he says finally.
“The hotel business? That’s pretty vague.”
I smirk at him as I take another sip of the cool delicious wine.
“Well, it’ll have to do for now,” he says smugly.
“Okay fine, if that’s how you wanna play it.”
I shake my head. I feel his fingertips skimming my bare shoulder from where his hand rests.
His touch sends tingles down my spine, but I’m surprised by his forwardness, and the fact that I’m okay with it.
Usually, a move like that would cause me to call a guy out on it, especially from a stranger. But this is a night of being brave, and to maybe have some kind of adventure with this mysterious John.
“So, how old are you Roxanne?”
The way he emphasizes my name like he doesn’t believe it’s real amuses me, and I can’t help but to giggle quietly.
“Isn’t it rude to ask a woman how old she is?” I ask him.
“I don’t know. Is it?”
“I’m twenty-six,” I answer him anyway, “how old are you,John?”
“I’m thirty-one.”
“Oh? No ambiguous answer there?”
“Nah, I’m fine with my age. How about you? Are you really thirty-five, but saying your twenty-six?”
“No, I’m really twenty-six, and my real name is Roxanne,” I inform him. He doesn’t say anything about it and just smiles.
“Well Roxanne…” he starts, but is cut off when another man comes over and plops himself down on the other side of me, again, too close.
“Hey John,” the other man says conspiratorially, eyeing me up, “who is this?”
He smiles, revealing another perfect smile, complete with a set of dimples. This guy also has dark hair, but it’s styled into a messy faux hawk.
“This is Roxanne,” John tells him, “Roxanne, this is my friend er… Joe,” he says.
“Really? Is that what you’re going with?” I ask, turning to Joe.
“I guess so.” Joe laughs.
“Well, nice to meet you,Joe,” I offer my hand, and he takes it, kissing the top of my hand reminiscent of John.
“Roxanne,” he smiles wolfishly, “I like it.”
Joe doesn’t move over, and I’m squished into a John and Joe sandwich, feeling increasingly warm.
“I was just going to ask Roxanne to dance before you so rudely interrupted,” John tells Joe.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Joe says, and John looks at me.
“So Roxanne, would you like to dance with me?” he asks.
“Um, sure, I guess so,” I say.
Suddenly John shifts and stands up, offering his hand to me, and I take it, grateful for the hand since it’s slightly hard to stand gracefully in this tight dress.
John leads me away from the sofas and on to the dance floor where a fast thumping pop song plays. The dance floor is filled with other people dancing and grinding around the dance floor.
It seems a bizarre sight with everyone dancing the way they do in their formal wear. It just doesn’t seem to fit. You think black tie, and you expect a classical band or something like that.
This is more like an extremely formal dance club, with nothing but good-looking patrons.
Everyone sways and moves together provocatively, and I begin to feel nervous again as John slides his hands around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
We start to dance along to the beat, and soon I’m into it. John is a surprisingly good dancer, not looking awkward or out of place at all. He pulls my body towards his and continues to move.
Then, I feel two more hands around my waist from behind. I turn my face in shock, and I see that it’s John’s friend Joe.
“Just go with it,” John whispers into my ear, his lips brushing my earlobe slightly, “this is what tonight is all about, letting go of your inhibitions, and just having a good time, no matter what that might be.”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” Joe whispers in my other ear, “we don’t bite…unless you want us to.”
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2
I feel so wanton and brave, despite the lack of adequate alcohol in my system, and sexy and lustful as I dance between these two desirable and mysterious men.
With their hands on me, I wrap my arms around John’s neck; his hands feel hot through the fabric of my gown.
I don’t know if it’s something they are pumping through the air vents in here, or if they put something in the wine because this is not my typical behavior.
I am usually pretty controlled and cautious, not shy, just careful. But right now, at this moment, all I can think about are the hands that are touching me, and how I want more of it.
I bite my lip as John pushes himself even closer to me, and he dips his head down, and I feel him brush his lips along my collarbone.
“Mmm Roxanne. You smell so good that I could just eat you up,” John murmurs against my neck, which causes every muscle south of my belly button to tense up, and my temperature to rise.
“She really does,” Joe agrees from behind me, and I feel him push into me as well.
I feel like this should offend me somehow, as a proper lady should feel, but nope, the feeling doesn’t come.
“I don’t know if I feel like sharing Joe,” John says quietly.
“I’m not sure you have a choice,” Joe replies.
“We’ll see about that.”
John’s hands grasp me tighter until he leans in and starts kissing me. I respond immediately, our tongues weaving together effortlessly, smoothly, I can taste the whiskey.
John pulls away, and I’m breathless.
“Oh yeah?” Joe says in a challenging tone.
I feel one of Joe’s hands move from my waist, and he brings it up to my chin, turning my head to the side, he leans in and kisses me too.
Okay, now I really know that this is going somewhere that I’m unsure about as his mouth moves over mine. His tongue moves around slowly, sensuously, causing my lips to tingle.
After a moment, he releases my chin, and I look back at John, who watches with an amused expression on his face.
“Well played Joe, well played.”
John taps his chin, mulling something over.
“How does this make you feel Roxanne?”
“I uh…I’m not sure,” I stutter, “this isn’t something I’ve experienced before,” I reply, feeling my face heat up underneath my mask, glad for its protection.
“Is this something you’re willing to try?” John then asks, moving in close to me again.
I’m vaguely aware that Joe hasn’t stopped touching me at all.
“Try?” I ask, not quite comprehending.
“Yes love, you’re in for a good night if you are,” Joe whispers against my ear.
“Roxanne,” John brushes my cheek with his thumb, “Joe and I would like to…”
“We’d like to show you something,” Joe murmurs.
My entire body starts to tense at the erotic meaning behind their words, and my heart starts to beat erratically. Is this something that I’m actually about to consider?
I don’t even know these men, and Casey will be here any time now.
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”
I swallow, biting my lip nervously, my good sense trying to make itself known.
“Why not?” John asks, backing away slightly.
Joe’s hands drop from my waist.
“Because I don’t even know you guys,” I counter.
Joe comes around me and stands next to John. These two men look like they belong in GQ magazine; they ooze sexuality and style, and here they stand, propositioning me in the most unbelievable way.
This was not how I imagined this night turning out; I just got here for heaven's sake. Do I look like an easy target or some sexually experienced whore?
“Relax Roxanne,” John moves in and cups my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to look at him, “you’re over thinking this, it can be the simplest thing in the world if you let it. We’re all consenting adults here, aren’t we? Where’s your sense of adventure?”
I gulp. John has a point. I’m young, I’m single, and I’ve always been responsible.
Maybe tonight can be about just that, having an adventure, broadening my horizons, get it out of my system before I settle down.
I feel like if I don’t, I’ll always wonder about this night and think of how it could have been one of the most erotic and sexy things I’ve ever done.
“I think I need another drink,” I whisper, and a slow smile spreads across John’s face.
“The lady needs another drink,” John, says to Joe over his shoulder.
“Coming right up,” Joe grins and saunters over to the bar.
“Come.”
John takes my hand and leads me off the dance floor, towards the back of the room. We go past the all the sofas, and towards a door where another guard stands.
John flashes a small golden card, and the doorman moves aside, letting us through. We are in a dark corridor lined with doors. I wonder, idly, what is going on behind those doors.
John walks to the very end and turns a corner where there is only one large set of double doors.
“I want you to meet someone first,” he says, quietly, as he knocks on the door twice.
Another large man opens the door from the inside.
“Walt, it’s me,” John merely says to the daunting man.
Walt seems satisfied and moves aside to let us through.
This room is like a mini version of the main room but without a dance floor. Sitting at a small grouping of sofas are two men, and one woman murmuring. They all go silent as we approach them.
“Hello sir,” John says as he extends his hand to one of the men.
He stands and takes Johns hand, shaking it heartily.
“John! My good man, glad to see you,” the man smiles broadly, revealing a smile that could take your breath away.
He has dark blond hair that is slicked back, and from what I can see of his face, he looks older than John, but not by much.
He’s handsome, with a sort of regal air to him, and I can feel power almost radiate off of him, I suspect he might be Mr. Spence Manfredi himself.
“And who, might I ask, is this beautiful young lady?” he flashes his megawatt smile at me and offers his hand. I smile and extend my hand.
“I’m Roxanne, nice to meet you,” I say sweetly.
“Well Roxanne, you may call me Spence. I’m so pleased you could join us here tonight, allow me to introduce you to my friends,” Spence, says gesturing first to the other man.
“This is my good friend…”
“Victor,” the man says and nods at me, lifting his drink.
“And this is…” Spence gestures to the blond woman in the slinky red dress, “Victor’s wife.”
The woman offers a small smile.
“You can call me…Cherry,” she says, pulling a maraschino cherry out of her drink and popping it into her mouth.
“Nice to meet you both,” I smile at them, trying to muster up all my confidence.
I’m in the same room as one of the most well-known billionaires in the country. He’s also one of the most eligible bachelors according to all the tabloids.
Because of my secret addiction to gossip television, I’ve seen plenty of stories about which actress he’s currently wooing.
I’ve also read a couple of articles about him, and his pictures regularly show up in the magazines.
Spence Manfredi has been married and divorced twice, and last I knew, he had been seen around town with actress Jessica Green.
But no woman has really tied him down since his last marriage ended in a nasty divorce.
As I said, I love me some gossip TV, my most embarrassing guilty pleasure.
“Have a seat you two.” Spence gestures to the sofa opposite him.
John takes my hand and leads me over to it, just as we hear a knock on the door. Walt opens the door, and Joe walks in, carrying a glass of wine. He wanders over to us and hands me the glass.
“Spence!” Joe bellows, as Spence stands and shakes Joe's hand enthusiastically.
“Hello!” Spence laughs heartily, “What’s with the wine?” Spence asks him, gesturing to the glass that I hold.
“The lady needed a drink,” Joe answers, then he comes and sits down on my other side, dropping a hand leisurely onto my knee.
“Let’s get rid of that, and get you something from my private bar.” Spence frowns and gestures towards the bar.
Another tuxedo-clad bartender rushes over and takes the glass away from me.
“Oh, that’s okay…” I protest, but it’s too late.
The bartender is already gone away with my glass, and a second bartender comes over with a new glass, handing it to me.
“Thank you,” I blush, embarrassed by all the fuss.
I really liked that other wine. However, as soon as I take a sip of this new wine, I’m struck by how amazing it tastes.
If I thought the other wine was good, this one is ten times better, I couldn’t even imagine what the price tag on it must be. Spence watches my face as I sip it.
“Good?” he says with a knowing smile.
“It’s delicious, thank you.”
“Have as much as you like.”
“I think Spence fancies you,” John whispers in my ear. I turn my face slightly to look at him, and he smiles.
“I think he's just friendly.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so.”
John places a hand on my other knee, squeezing slightly. Joe squeezes the knee he holds as well. My heart starts to race a little, so I take a big sip of my drink.
I had hoped to sip it slowly, to savor it, but I feel the need to get a buzz on, and quickly. I finish my drink in two more glugs.
I barely have time to pull the glass away from my lips before the bartender has brought me a new glass.
Spence seems to watch us with curious interest as John starts running his hand lightly from my knee to my thigh.
I look down at John and Joe's hands and back up at Spence, feeling a little self-conscience. What is going on here?
“So Roxanne, are you having a good time?” Spence asks me, ignoring John and Joe for a moment.
“Yes sir, I am,” I answer politely, taking a smaller sip of wine this time.
I can feel the one I chugged, already working its magic.
“Please, call me Spence,” he insists with a relaxed smile.
“Okay, Spence.”
I feel myself beginning to relax a little, despite the awkward situation. Spence leans back and resumes his conversation with Victor and Cherry.
John’s hand suddenly moves from my thigh, and up to my chin, turning my face towards him again, then he leans in and kisses me slowly.
I lean into it, his mouth working mine with the skill of an expert, causing every nerve in my body to awaken. I feel Joe take the glass from my hand, and I hear him set it down on the table.
Joe resumes his hand on my knee, and then he slides it up my thigh as well. The sound of Victor coughing breaks the spell.
I had almost forgotten about the others in the room, and I quickly pull back, embarrassed.
“Well Spence,” Victor stands, offering his hand to Cherry, “I think Cherry and I are going to go out and mingle for a little while. It’s been a pleasure as always.”
He shakes Spence’s hand and salutes the three of us on the sofa. John and Joe lean back casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world to be doing what we are doing.
Victor and Cherry leave the room, and soon it’s just the four of us, besides the staff. Now I’m becoming nervous again.
If they think for even one minute that I’m going to just invite one more to this little situation…
“Gentlemen,” Spence announces, “I think I’m going to make a round as well, it’d be rude of me not to greet my other guests.”
He stands up.
“Please stay, enjoy the bar. I’ll be back a little later.”
Spence smiles and winks at us, then strides out the door.
“Alone at last,” Joe says, draping an arm around my shoulders.
“Now that we have you here, what shall we do?” John smiles at Joe.
“Oh, I have some ideas,” Joe runs a finger up the back of my neck causing me to shiver.
“Roxanne, do you want to play with us?” John murmurs. Play? What does he mean by that? I reach over and grab my wine glass again, taking a big sip. I hear them both chuckling.
“I think she’s nervous,” Joe says to John.
“I think so too,” John agrees.
“I’ll be fine,” I retort, setting the glass back down, albeit a little shakily.
What am I doing here? Is this what I want? Yes, yes it is! My body screams at me. I stand up from the sofa, and John and Joe watch me curiously.
I look around and realize all the staff has inconspicuously disappeared. We are all alone. I stare down at the two men watching me, wondering what I’m going to do next. What am I going to do?
Boldly, and with all the confidence I can muster, I straighten my posture and reach behind me and find the zipper clasp of my dress and pull it down slowly, and let my dress pool around my feet.
John and Joe stare at me with surprised eyes, at least I think they’re surprised; it’s hard to tell behind the masks. The two of them exchange a grin, and then they smile at me hungrily.
“Why Roxanne, glad to see you’re ready to have a little fun,” John says, as he starts loosening his tie.
Joe stands up and removes his jacket, and then he offers me his hand to help me step out of my dress. I step out of it, and John leans over and picks it up off the floor.
He takes it and drapes it across the other sofa. Well, at least they are gentlemen about this.
I’m grateful at the moment that I had spent the extra money on the black lingerie I wear, complete with garter belt and stockings. I feel sexy.
“Fuck, you look good,” John growls, appraising me carefully.
“Yeah she does,” Joe agrees, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth.
I stand between the two men, now unsure of what to do next. This is entirely out of my realm of experience; I’m just winging it at this point.
My level of expertise in seducing men is limited; this feels like the big leagues. John makes the first move and grabs me around my waist, pulling me against him, kissing me again.
I feel Joe hooking a finger into the back of my strapless bra, and it comes undone, falling to the floor.
Joe’s hands slide around me, and he cups my breasts gently in his hands. I feel him push up against me from behind and he starts kissing my shoulders.
As I kiss John, my fingers find the buttons on his shirt, and I start undoing them slowly.
When I’ve reached the last one, I pull his shirt from his pants, and push it off of his shoulders, along with his jacket, revealing what I had hoped was underneath, a perfectly sculptured Adonis.
His skin is smooth and bronzed, with just a light smattering of hair on his chest. I look at him, my mouth going dry. Wow! John notices me checking him out and smiles.
“You like?” he asks, a smug smile hinting on his lips.
I just nod, not pulling my eyes away from his chiseled abs. I’ve never seen a male form like this in real life before, only in magazines and on television.
As I gaze at John, Joe suddenly spins me around to face him.
“Okay, I’m sick of being on the back burner here,” he grunts, and he leans in to kiss me hard.
Then he pulls back slightly.
“Aren’t you going to undress me too?” Joe challenges.
I nod and start to unbutton Joe’s shirt as well. I push it off his shoulders. You have got to be kidding me. His body is just as chiseled as Johns, but not quite as tanned.
He has a few tattoos scattered around his chest and arms. The one that really catches my eye though is a beautiful black wing on his right pectoral that stretches up to his shoulder.
A low whistle escapes my throat, and he laughs.
“Holy shit, you guys are sure in good shape,” I can’t help but say as I stare.
Joe smirks as I appraise him, “I like to look good.”
“You know who looks good?” John says behind me, “Roxanne looks good.”
“You’re so right brotha,” Joe agrees with him, causing me to blush.
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what to do next,” I squeak, a little overwhelmed by all the male beauty that surrounds me.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll take good care of you,” Joe coos, moving forward.
He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me again.
Then I feel John flush against my backside, his fingers hooking into the sides of my underwear, and he pulls them down slowly, trailing kisses down my butt and thighs as he goes.
It feels so good that my knees start to buckle.
“Come,” John whispers, and Joe breaks away from me for a moment.
John gestures for me to sit back on the sofa, so I do. I look at the two of them, standing before me, with visible excitement straining against their tuxedo pants.
They exchange a quick glance, with some unspoken communication.
“Lay down baby,” John orders softly, and I comply.
How do we work this threesome thing? Do I have this in me? I’ve come this far; do I go all the way?
John undoes his belt, then his pants, and lets them fall to the floor, followed by his tight black boxer briefs. He springs free, and I swallow hard.
He’s impressive, but it makes me nervous, as he bends and retrieves a condom from his jacket pocket.
He kneels down onto the sofa between my legs and then shimmies down until he is face to face with my sex.
“What a sweet little morsel we have here,” he murmurs before he dips his face down.
I feel him start working his tongue along my clit with perfect pressure. I close my eyes and let out a soft moan, reveling in the feeling.
Then I feel the sofa move above my head, and I look up and see Joe hovering over me. He dips his head down and kisses me.
At first gently, then John increases the pressure with his mouth, causing me to moan louder, and Joe kisses me harder, absorbing my moans. His hands roam my breasts, softly kneading at them.
I lift my hips to meet John’s mouth, aching for him, and he continues his sinful tongue work.
“Does this feel okay?” Joe whispers.
“Mmm hmm,” I moan, bucking into John again. John quickly shifts, getting to his knees again.
“I think she’s all ready,” he murmurs, opening the condom and sliding it on.
Joe stands, and removes his own pants and boxers, revealing his own considerable length.
John stays kneeling, and grabs my thighs, pulling me up towards him, and slowly he enters me, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.
He starts moving slowly, wiggling his hips slightly with every thrust. I can already feel a steady pressure beginning to build inside my core.
Joe moves to my side, and drops a knee down onto the sofa near my head, his erection near my face, his intention is undeniable. I look at it nervously and lift my hand to touch him.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice a little hoarse.
“No, it’s okay, I want to,” I insist.
With a satisfied smile, he lowers himself closer until he can reach my mouth. His eyes squeeze shut as I take his cock into my mouth, working him slowly and carefully.
This is the craziest thing that I have ever done; I don’t think anything could top this one. How did my night turn into this? Casey springs to my mind.
She’s probably already here, looking for me, worried. What will I tell her when I go find her? Will I tell her this happened? I’m supposed to meet her new boyfriend and his friend.
How could I even take the date seriously after what I’ve done with these two guys tonight? How will this night end? Will the three of us just move on with our lives? Probably.
Will we ever see each other ever again? With our masks still securely on hiding our identities, my guess is no, since we might not know it even if we did.
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