MASQUERADE PARTY

[masqueradeparty]

[the day of the party has arrived!

right around dinnertime, fairies will try to round up every single character and gesture, lead, or pull them towards the courtyard. there, the miniature castle has finally been completed! there are fairy lights and beautiful singing all around you, and it looks like there's some kind of a party going on in the castle, but...

...but it's still so tiny. how could you possibly get in there? it would be hard just to get your hand through the front door!

but the fairies will persist, and as soon as a character steps into the fairy ring...

they find themselves in the ballroom.

this post has been forward-dated to tonight, of course, so mingle in the comment sections and have a fun time with the different rooms.]

SECTION LINKS FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE:
• The Ballroom
• Side Rooms
• The Garden
• The Altar

Comments

[samson]

Why?

[Not that it matters; he's standing up to tug his trousers down anyway. Does she need them literally off, does it make a difference? Because he's wearing some knee-high boots right now, he'll have to take those off first.]

[molotov]

[He doesn't have to take them all the way off. In fact, as soon as he has them far enough down, Molotov grabs hold of his cock and tries to move him so that she can get her mouth around him. He might want to sit back down.]

[samson]

[Inhaling sharply, he immediately places one hand at the back of her head, fingers curling in as he sort of blindly stumbles backwards toward the chaise lounge. Once he finds it, he sits down hard, watching her the whole time.]

[molotov]

[When he sits, Molotov just kind of goes at it, her eye closed.]

[samson]

[Brock is for serious going to make sure Molotov brings that mask back home with them. There's something really outrageously sexy about getting a blowjob while your partner has a mask on -- which Brock shouldn't even really notice, because Molotov always wore an eyepatch. Still, it was something different.

He keeps his eyes on her face and his hand at the back of her head, absently playing with the big, soft curls in her hair.]

[molotov]

[Haha, well, she brought the mask from home, that was where she got ready! So yes, it would be there, although she might balk at wearing it just for random blowjobs. Don't you want to see your wife's face, Samson?!

Molotov is just really into it, occasionally glancing up at him, but it's kind of dark in here anyway, so she mostly keeps her eye closed and bobs her head.]

[samson]

[He just didn't want her to leave it here, that's what he was saying! Bring it home with you, lady. Of course he wouldn't ask her to wear it all the time, but it would be a nice addition to their wear-leather-and-smack-Brock-around hobby.

His mouth hanging open a bit, Brock watches her with rapt attention, his eyes a little glazed with adoration and lust and just all-consuming love. Sometimes he gets that way, when he realizes for the millionth time that this is real, that he's actually married to her, and things he long ago relegated to the unattainable are sitting right in front of him, sucking his cock.

Swallowing hard, he shakes his head to try and clear his thoughts.]

Hey -- wait. Come up here ...

[molotov]

[Well, she would bring it home, but the point remains that she's not strapping on a mask every time she wants to suck his dick.

When he speaks, she makes a vaguely sad noise and shakes her head a little, continuing to go at him. She really doesn't want to have sex, because she has no idea where a bathroom is in this place.]

[samson]

[Brock frowns at her, because jeez! Jeez!! Who turns down this awesome penis in her vagina, who would do that? A crazy person.

But whatever, if she wants to blow him, he'll let her blow him. Grunting vaguely, he slouches a bit, stroking at her hair as he lets her take over and do her thing.]

[molotov]

[A person who can't get to a bathroom afterward, that's who! And also he is far more likely to rip her dress if she fucks him.

Happy that he was letting her do her own thing, Molotov just closed her eye and sucked him hard, moving her hands to use them as well.]

[samson]

[Now that he's not trying to hold out anymore for any potential penis-in-vagina adventures, Brock freely lets his eyes roam Molotov's body and allows himself to fully take in just how freaking hot this was. They're doing this basically in public, and while he's sure there are a lot of other people fucking or screwing around at this party, it's surprising coming from Molotov. He can feel his skin grow just a little warmer as the realization hits him, and he swallows hard.

Swearing softly, he tugs at her hair to let her know he's getting there, and then sort of involuntarily grabs the side of her head with his other hand as well.]

[molotov]

[Molotov pays no attention to his hands, and instead, just increases her suction, rolling her tongue against the underside of his cock.]

[samson]

[Oh wow, that's a thing.

Making a slightly surprised stifled noise, Brock jerks a little and curls his fingers into the side of her head, muttering some swears under his breath.]

[molotov]

[Making a pleased sound, Molotov just keeps going, bobbing her head and opening her eye to look up at him. Come on, her knees are sore.]

[samson]

[Her eye is what does it. That drives him over the fucking edge and he clutches at her head, moaning softly and speaking to her a little disjointedly, his hips involuntarily moving in time with his orgasm.]

[molotov]

[Okay, there we go. Molotov keeps going, prepared for him to stop her shortly, and sort of coos around him. Good job, team!]

[samson]

[After he comes down, Brock inhales deeply and then opens his eyes, smiling at her a little weakly. He spends a second stroking her hair, then jerks his head back a little with a sort of smug look, asking her to come sit on the chaise lounge with him.]

[molotov]

[Delicately wiping her mouth, Molotov sits down next to him and leans against him.]

[samson]

[Brock casually tucks himself back in and lights two cigarettes, handing her one as he wraps his arm around her shoulders.]

[molotov]

[Yes, very good, thank you. Molotov takes the cigarette and curls up against him, smoking.]

[samson]

[He leans his head against hers, stroking at her shoulder a little.]

Did I rip your dress?

[molotov]

[She examines her dress as best she can in the dark.]

I do not think so.

[samson]

[He looks too! He can't see anything either.]

I really want to fuck you.

[molotov]

No, I do not want to be messy.

[samson]

I can see if one of those little animal guys can get me a condom. [He starts looking around the curtains ...]