by Bella Bliss

The music rushed over me; string melodies tugging at my heart offset by a sensual Latin beat that pounded in my blood. It flooded my soul and held me captive in it's power. Images of raw carnality flashed through my mind. If I closed my eyes, I could see myself on horseback, racing through the dark of night in a time of decadence long past, to the manor on the hill. A candle would be lit in the corner room at the end of the second floor.

"Excuse me," whispered the rough male voice.

I turned my head to glance over my shoulder at the man that had interrupted my musings, fanciful as they were. His eyes were alight with deviltry and the smile that played about his mouth was nothing less than wicked. It seemed that I had been caught; my thoughts somehow detected even in the cloaked darkness of the concert hall. I raised my eyebrows in question.

"Are you alright?"

I tried to play the innocent. I tried to pretend that I didn't know what he was talking about. I failed.

He chuckled low in his throat, a sound that sent another rush of heat through me, this time though having nothing to do with the music.

"You're blushing. Even with only stage lights to assist me, I can see that. You're restless. And have been for the last two pieces. Your breathing has changed slightly. Are you certain that you're alright?"

His voice whispered in my ear, loud enough to be heard over the music, but not by anyone other than me. It was an understated voice, kind and pleasant, but there was a hint of fire, an only slightly veiled boldness and authority. In my mind, I could hear that voice speaking with blushing crudity when in heat.

I nodded my head in response and turned my eyes back to the stage. The four young women that dominated the building played with passion and with love crystal clear. The music spoke to them on levels that could only be communicated through their instruments. Mere words would never fully convey the meaning. Their bodies writhed to and fro, trembling in bliss. Long slender limbs clothed in elegance, danced seductively, taunting and teasing, daring the captive audience into fantasy.

Warm breath stirred the fine hairs at the nape of my neck and strong, sure fingers found the clips in my hair with ease, tugging them loose. I was so deeply lost in the music that I could form no protest to the advances of the man behind me. The spell that surrounded me was thick and so heavy laden with sensuality that my body and mind ceased to register the full concert hall, transporting me instead to a massive four-poster bed and a sexy stranger with a voice that set my soul on fire.

The heat of his hand massaging my scalp flowed through my body, melting me. There was tenderness in his touch. There was coaxing in his persistent attention. I closed my eyes and let myself fall deeper into my own imaginings, my own desires. I slipped deeper into him. My ears heard and registered the raw sexuality of the music and my soul transferred it into arousal, keen and sharp. His lips whispered against my shoulder, the side of my neck. His voice breathed itself into my ear.

"Come with me."

He didn't give me time to think about it, just tugged lightly on my hair and urged me up out of my seat. Making my way to the aisle, I followed him, not daring to think of what I was doing, only letting myself get lost in the moment, feeling every sensation, every prickle of heat that flowed over my sensitized skin.

He slowed to a near stop, but only long enough to reach back for my hand, twining his fingers through my own. At the back of the theatre, there were a series of curtained alcoves, lit inside by candlelight sconces. He stopped beside one of these and pulled the curtain, ushering me inside.

There was only a moment to glimpse his face before his mouth covered mine, drawing forth such pleasure that my eyes closed in blinding lust. His tongue flicked out to lick the seam of my lips before slipping inside as if a phantom. His arms stole around me and pulled me flush against his body. He was taller than I, broad and solid against my soft roundness. His tongue danced inside my mouth, sliding against my own, coaxing it between his lips for a gentle but insistent suckling.

His hands bunched up the back of my gown, baring my buttocks to the heat and strength of his palms. He pulled my groin tight against his own. I felt his hardness through the soft and warm fabric of woolen trousers. He rubbed against me, insistent, hungry. I barely heard his murmured wickedness.

His lips lingered, then pulled softly away. He turned me towards the wall, placing my hands against the polished wood, bending me slightly forward. Fingers, deft and knowing found their way between my thighs, sliding through slick, pouty lips. I never once protested. I had waited my whole life for a moment such as this: for a man to want me so much that the where and when ceased to be of consequence. The music that echoed through the hall was that of a sultan's harem, of slaves performing elaborate dances of sex for guests of their lord and master.

He was inside me before I could ask, before I could beg and plead for him to fill me. His lips whispered against my neck, his tongue danced along leaving a moist heated trail in its wake. One arm held me tight about the waist, pressing my lower body back into his pumping hips. His other arm wrapped across my chest, his palm cupping my breast through the velvet of my gown.

"Fuck me," he whispered into the hollow of my ear.

I writhed against him. His hips stopped moving, giving me room and motive to undulate my own, pulling on his cock, sucking his shaft with the heated mouth between my legs. I heard him groan and his teeth bit into the tender skin of my shoulder.

With eyes closed and my soul lost in the music, my body sought its release, its completion.

"Please." The whimper resounded in the small alcove as the tears of stolen moments streaked down my cheeks.

"Legs closer together. Hold me tighter inside. Yes, that's it. Tighter, love."

His arms crushed me against his hardness. His knees and thighs slid against the back of my own as he thrust up inside of me. Bending me closer to the wall, his hips angled forward. He was deeper, touching me everywhere. He danced with me to the music that filled the theatre. Our bodies melting into one another, the crescendo was almost deafening. My heart picked up speed, beating in time with the tempo on stage. I clawed at the wood. I bit my lip and tossed my head back. I felt him empty inside of me. The pressure and pulse of his cock pumping semen into my womb and my own orgasm shivered through me moments later.



I hung limply in his arms as he whispered words in a language that I couldn't understand. His shaft slipped out of me and he pulled back to fasten his trousers. The skirt of my dress, hopelessly crushed, fell across my hips and once again brushed the floor.

The concert was nearly over.

His hand slid up my arm, back down again until his fingers clasped my own, raising it to his lips to kiss over my shoulder. I shivered at his sweet gesture. The enchanting moment would soon be over. I wanted to hold onto it forever.

"I must go, sweet," he said, stroking my hair.

I nodded my acceptance, unable to speak. His essence slid down my thigh.

"Remember me. We will meet again."

He was gone before I could turn around, leaving me with an ache for more of him and a smile of hope for fantasies yet to be fulfilled.

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