I’ve always loved dressing-up, always loved the liberation of inventing a new character and acting according to the whims of whomever I had created. Wench indeed, I thought to myself. Taking a deep breath I went back into the castle and immediately saw him by the far side of the hall – again the thirst for him came unbidden. He could not see me, so I drank in his every aspect – his body, the way he held himself so assuredly, his strong hands absent-mindedly toying with his champagne glass, and that mouth – I felt scorched by him, his touch had imprinted itself utterly and I felt helpless. I quickly drank several glasses of deliciously cold champagne, which only succeeded in making me more reckless and more wanton. I could not understand what was happening to me, all I could think about was feeling him inside of me, fucking me hard, sliding in and out of me – the thought made me close my eyes with longing.
The more I fantasised about him the more my desire increased, until it became almost unbearable.
Glancing again around the heaving room I saw my would-be-lover looking for me. Ignoring him I picked up my skirt and ran up the grandly ornate marble staircase. My heart hammering and blood pounding in my ears, I found room upon sumptuous room, but I wanted somewhere dark and quiet, away from the strut and thrum of the party below.
“I pulled my skirt up to my waist and peeled down my soaking silk panties.”
Right at the top of the castle I found what I wanted. A small room with one skylight, directly above a large bed. Nobody’s belongings strewn about the place so I would be undisturbed. Perfect. Almost sighing with relief I flung myself onto the bed and lay perfectly still, my body raging with a lust I had no control over. I pulled my skirt up to my waist and peeled down my soaking silk panties.