Masquerade

She lay in bed after they fucked, still reeling from her orgasm, wondering who she had slipped away with after the masquerade ball had ended. She looked at her mystery lover, adjusting her mask to see more clearly. He was already dressed and securing the costume cloak to his shoulders. He glanced down at her.

Does he not know who I am? She wondered.

Maybe he did. Maybe he was just full of pride for taking the queens honor. There was only one way to find out.

She removed her mask.

He gasped and stumbled backwards into the chair. He obviously didn’t know who he had just slept with. She rose from the bed, his seed dripping down her thighs, not bothering to cover up her naked body (no point in modesty now). She approached him, her plump breasts falling into his field of vision when she bent over to remove his mask.

Spectacles. She smiled.