Keith pushed his way through the throngs of sweaty bodies as he made his way to the dance floor. He'd been told to meet her there, in the middle of the chaotic mingling of masked revellers. Despite the fact that the party had just started the smell of sex already lingered in the air. If it were not for the loud music he imagined his ears could have confirmed his suspicions.
The venue was an ornate ballroom, the location unknown to the average citizen. From the outside it looked like an abandoned warehouse, save for the large security detail. This wasn't a place just anyone could access, after all; it existed solely for the wealthy and the powerful. And- despite his position as the CEO of Voltron- he felt a bit like a fraud being there.
Whoever built the place put a lot of attention into the details. Shadows stretched lazily across the floor from blue lights that circled the baseboards, but the ceiling was lit by silver candelabras which offered only traces of orange light. Flickering flames gave the illusion that the scrollwork was dancing across the vaulted eggshell-colored canopy, creating an aura of old-country aristocracy.
He himself was dressed according to code. His tailor-made suit looked like it was plucked from the cover of a romance novel. Black cropped pants that hugged his body comfortably were expertly paired with soft leather riding boots. His shirt was a cream color, made of silk, and topped by a fiery red waistcoat with black lapels. A red satin ribbon holding his long hair back and black silk mask over his features completed the ensemble.
Nothing about his clothes made him stand out, leaving him invisible to most everyone else. This was a good thing, because even with masks on he could make out some of the identities of the other partygoers. The chiseled jaw of the most popular actor kneeling suggestively before another man sporting the tell-tale hairstyle of a prominent politician. An international model who, at six-foot-one, could easily see over the crowd in her namesake stilettos. The playboy heir to the largest and most profitable corporation was scanning the room, looking for his next acquisition.
The one he hoped wouldn't stand out was her, though. Many others were wearing powdered wigs so her signature silver hair wouldn't draw a second glance. And knowing her reputation was more protected than his own, he guessed she would be wearing a full mask instead of a partial one. Anything to keep her name off the tongues of the wicked.
Her fame wasn't the typical tinseltown fodder. Her father President Alfor had taken office when she was still a teenager, so she grew up in a different kind of limelight. Once she hit adulthood she took up many of his causes, working with several humanitarian groups while building her own career as a congresswoman.
That was the reason Keith was most surprised by Lance's offer to set them up on a date. She had openly protested his company's involvement as a weapons supplier for the war with Daibazaal, accusing him of putting profits over people. Granted she'd also dated Lotor, the son of that nation's president. The very man who had ordered her father's assassination.
Keith was beginning to wonder if fucking men she hated was her fetish. Or maybe it was a setup, and she was looking to blackmail him? Still she'd gotten the coveted invitation, which was impossible without connections. Keith got his from Lance, who got his from his current girlfriend Pidge. Pidge's brother Matt was one of the cofounders of the secretive group known solely by its codename "The Garrison".
So knowing that Lance vouched for the two of them was curious, because Lance had dated her briefly a year or so back. He was there after her nasty breakup with Lotor and she leaned heavily on him for support. That didn't make for a great relationship apparently, and it ended rather abruptly after a few months. Still the exes kept in touch since the younger couple met while Pidge was her technical director.
Apparently their closeness lead her to tell them about a certain...interest...in having a purely physical relationship with someone. Keith imagined the heartbreak she'd experienced from Lotor's betrayal prevented her from trusting anyone. He'd been hurt by someone who used him as well, so they had that much in common at least. For that very reason the idea of a semi-secret rendezvous with her enticed him.
And, to be frank, she was a goddess.
He'd pleasured himself to fantasies about her many times before. Every time was different, but it always ended with them together: falling asleep together, having breakfast together, spending the day together. Part of him wondered if she would simply walk away after the fact, or if he could convince her to come to his place later to sleep off the high of the evening.
He also wondered if he'd find her in the crowd that swelled as an apparent initiation was occuring in the middle of the floor. A rather drunk couple was getting down to business as chants of encouragement echoed in the hall. Keith thought that with any luck that would be the two of them later tonight, assuming she hadn't chickened out on him.
A pointed tap on his shoulder snapped him to, causing him to nearly knock the drink out of a large man's hand as he spun around. "Let me see your stamp," demanded the stern woman who had sought his attention.
He held his left arm towards her to show the red lion that adorned the back of his hand. She peered at it closely, then nodded her approval. Taking him by the wrist she pulled him to the far side of the room where a small platform stood in front of the DJ booth.
Despite not being able to see her face he was fairly certain she was not the one he was there for. She seemed older, more business-like. Her starched clothes reminded him of the governess that raised his adopted brother, and her cold glare sent a shiver down his spine as it invoked the memory of that nanny smacking his ass with her bare hand. Corporal punishment still excited him to this day, however, and the fear that coursed through his veins went straight to his loins.
He imagined that was intentional on her part, to needle at a man's best hidden desires. Most likely she was the Mistress of Ceremonies, who made sure the proceedings ran smoothly and that all first time participants performed at their peak. He'd been made aware when he signed the disclaimer form what was expected of all newcomers, the most important being to put on a good show.
Nerves started to get the better of him as he realized that he'd likely be expected to perform on the low stage to grant the crowd a better view. The air had been stuffy before, but now it was suffocating. His free hand moved to tug at the collar of his shirt, then to free the top button entirely. He wasn't sure if that was what helped ease his breathing or if it was the sight of her.
"A-" he started, catching himself when the stern woman who'd dragged him over shook her head disapprovingly. Names were, after all, not allowed to be spoken in a place like this.
Named or not it was certainly the woman he'd hoped to see tonight. Her hair was swept high onto her head, loose her delicate features. The dress she wore was a strapless Victorian style, complete with sweetheart neckline and corseted waist that pushed her breasts nearly over the top of the bow that helped hold them in place. There was a sheer blue lace overcoat that flowed to the floor while the dress underneath was white satin trimmed with gold, with the split front revealing a short pink under-skirt that brushed the tops of her thighs. Her mask was ornate, with feathers sprouting from the top. The only parts of her face he could see were her eyes and lips.
Lips he wanted to devour.
Keith swallowed but the lump in his throat wouldn't budge. She was more beautiful in person, despite not being able to see the whole of her face. Her bright eyes pierced his soul, but her body kept him alive. He felt every twitch as his vision swept over her from head to foot and back.
No fantasy could have prepared him for this.
The mistress waited for them to signal their readiness before ushering them onto the stage. When she clapped her hands the music stopped suddenly, silencing the crowd. All eyes turned towards them, knowing smiles adorning the faces of the previously hazed.
Keith's heart was pounding so loudly in his chest he wondered if the crowd could hear it. For a moment his biggest fear was dying then and there, the newspapers having a field day with his untimely and unsavory demise. But then he looked back to her.
Then he knew he was going to be okay.
Once they were alone on the stage his partner stepped forward, her chest brushing up against his as if issuing an ultimatum. The feel of her warmth bled through his clothes, burning his flesh. The heat of it was rising upwards, his face likely as red as his vest he was trying to remove. Luckily it was only two buttons and he dispatched it quickly, but his shirt proved more of a challenge. Desperately he ripped the fabric, exposing his aching chest to the woman before him.
She responded with a smirk, letting her eyes slowly travel down his torso to his waist. It was then she pressed the palm of her hand into his pants, hitting the spot where his erection was growing. Nimble fingers easily freed it, sliding up the shaft as they measured the length of it. When they reached the tip she released it, leaving it to chase after her touch. Excited whispers filled the air as revellers waited for his response.
Now Keith was ready. He reached for the satin tie of her dress and swiftly undid it, pulling at the laced bodice of the dress with a newfound determination. Roughly he pulled at the latticework to expose her breasts. His hands cupped them as he ran his thumbs over the velvet skin, her nipples growing harder under his touch.
Soon he freed one hand to roam down to the hem of her dress, slipping underneath to find his prize for the night. Using the tip of his finger to run along her slit he could feel the wetness that proved she was as ready for this as he was. Her hip shifted slightly and he responded by jabbing his finger into her for a split second. Bright blue eyes widened but she remained silent, turning to the hostess.
Suddenly the lights went out, drowning the lower half of the room in pitch black darkness. Recognizing the cue Keith extended his arm upward, signalling his approval. At this moment his arousal was tempered only by his inability to see his partner's response. The sound of swishing fabric concerned him that she may have abandoned him on stage, leaving him to the mercy of the crowd. Still he held out hope, silently willing her to stay a while longer.
When the light returned it was focused solely on the spot where they stood. Both of them. Her arm raised as if she were a queen directing her court. Her coat had been removed along with her overskirt, her exposed skin glowing under the attention of the other revelers. Applause erupted from the crowd, chants urging them to make good on their promise.
It was then that the thump of music filled the space as Keith slid his hands under her hips, lifting her up to wrap her long legs around his waist. Her arms slid loosely around his neck, leaving her breasts at eye level. The hostess stepped on stage briefly to assist them, her tight grip guiding Keith's cock to his partner's soft warm core before leaving them to the mercy of the music.
The feel of his goddess overtook him, an audible sigh escaping his lips as she sunk onto him. Soon they were moving in rhythm with the song, feeling the energy it was giving off. His mouth quickly found a nipple to tease with his teeth and tongue. She responded by freeing his hair from the tie, her fists pulling on his long locks harshly as he sucked her harder in return.
He knew neither of them would hold out long like this. Not when the excitement of their first time was being enjoyed by others. Not when every sense was filled with her.
No, not filled. Overwhelmed.
Her leg muscles flexed under his grip, every rise and fall of her body sending a shock through his gut. Sharp nails carved the goddess' commandments into his flesh, bleeding any impiety from his heart. He stood a sinner upon her altar who had no option but kneel before her to beg forgiveness.
Carefully he sunk to the floor with her, placing his partner on her back as he raised one of her legs to rest on his shoulder. Although this allowed him to sink deeper inside her the crowd grumbled at their inability to observe the proceedings.
He wasn't the only one who seemed to notice. The goddess responded, pulling him out of her to reposition herself on all fours. Keith barely waited for her to settle on her hands and knees before plunging back into her, his hips driving into hers erratically before once again settling into the beat of the song. From the corner of his eye he saw the congregation join him in worship, every single celebrant awash in her glory.
The sight of her was intoxicating. The deep curve of her spine every time he hit the right spot. The deep inhale every time she moaned with pleasure. The deep tone of her skin as it became damp with sweat.
She was responding to his every move, bucking and grinding to gain the full length of him. He watched her fingers flex against the tile beneath her, stretching and curling as if yearning desperately for her release. Briefly she turned her face to him, mouthing the word harder while snaring him with the eyes of Aphrodite herself. Keith acknowledged her command by slamming into her with every ounce of energy that remained, over and over until they reached their tipping point.
Her head flew back, her mouth slightly opened, as he thrust harder into her with the pulse of the music. Every inch of him was wrapped up in her, him growing harder as she grew tighter. As if on cue they reached their release together, grunts and moans escalating as the two climaxed to the final beats of the song.
The crowd erupted into chaos, whoops and catcalls that felt oddly out of place amongst so many dignitaries. And yet the electricity that permeated the chamber only served to excite him more. His companion seemed to take notice of this- seeing as he hadn't yet pulled out of her- rolling her hips slightly to see if he reacted.
He did.
Slowly her arm raised one more time, his following suit. As if on cue a roar shook the room as music once again set the rhythm.