Lesley rushed breathlessly down the opulent corridor, her bare feet padding on the luxurious, cold marble. The fingers of her left hand were looped through the straps of her four-inch stilletoes and her right hand grasped her matching clutch bag. She panted for air, her ample bosom heaving underneath her low-cut embroidered gown and tight corsets. The pearl thong she was wearing bumped rhythmically over her clit with each stride she took - the intense pleasure this was giving her almost made up for the burning sensation in her lungs brought on by her desperate attempts to make it to the ball in time for the last dance. It crossed her mind that the hot mess being churned up between her thighs by this exquisitely decadent item of lingerie might be noticeable to her fellow guests when she arrived, but she didn't really care. Pheremones are an aphrodisiac, after all.
Finally, reaching the heavy wooden doors of the ballroom, she quickly slipped her tottering heels on to her dainty pedicured feet and adjusted her costume mask. Bright red and feathery, it contrasted wildly with her oceanic blue eyes and long, dark lashes. Lesley's heart thumped in her tightly bound chest as she pushed the door open. She was greeted by the strains of silky smooth orchestral music, and a sea of masked faces. Most were dancing, but others were stood on the sidelines chatting, eating or simply taking in the scene. Lesley was struck by the abundance of neatly suited men, their faces obscured from view by a variety of masks ranging from simple highwayman-style affairs to baroque and fantastical depictions of animals and mystical beings. She wondered which one He would be hiding behind and a delicious shiver of excitement travelled up her spine from her pelvis to the nape of her neck and back down again.
Tingling from head to foot with anticipation, Lesley began to stalk the room, looking deep into the eyes of every man that she passed. She would know his eyes anywhere. Pure, deep brown pools that melted you and drew you into their secret liquid centres, making you forget about everything else. She became aware that most of the eyes she was looking into were not returning her gaze but instead were wandering lustily over her body. She felt a glow of satisfaction as she recognised the hunger in the lascivious glances being directed at her. From her finely turned ankles, up her smooth calves, the muscle tone accentuated by the high heels she was teetering on, up over the graceful curve of her taught thighs to her high, pert bum. But most of all they were staring at her breasts. Lesley couldn't blame them - she had been amazed herself by the wonders the corset and dress had worked on her already gravity-defying bosom. Although uncomfortable and restrictive at first, Lesley had come to enjoy the tight sensation that hugged her waist like an ardent lover gripping her tight from behind, and the luxurious expanse of soft ample flesh spilling from the bustiere of her silk gown was more than reward enough for the discomfort. Excited by the attention she was attracting, Lesley became acutely aware of her pearl thong - a gift from the elusive man she was searching for. As she flitted from pillar to pillar in the high-ceiling ballroom she soaked up the sensation of the perfectly smooth round pearls, warmed from her body heat and lubed with the exquisite oils that seeped from between her legs, as they cut between her labia and rubbed against her swelling clit, making her gradually wetter and wetter.
