Recently I attended a masquerade ball to benefit the foundation where I work. Although philanthropy was the event’s focus, our team always picks an exciting theme to keep our donors happy and — most importantly — generous. Everyone gets really into their costumes because the event takes place near Halloween. To keep the illusion of anonymity alive, employees were encouraged not to identify themselves. We were to blend with the guests, making certain our donors had the best experience possible.

When I spied one of our benefactors off to the side looking as if he was brooding, I immediately stepped in to see how I could improve his evening. I didn’t know his name. Everyone present was a VIP. It was my job to make certain they all felt like the most important person in the room.

Our gloomy guest perked up as I approached. The preoccupied haze lifted from his gaze, leaving a hot spark of sensuality in its place. Even with a black silk mask obscuring his features, I could still detect a glimmer of attraction shining back at me, and that fired me up inside.

Emboldened by the knowledge that our identities would remain secret, I saw no harm in engaging in some flirty banter. It was my job to keep our guests happy, after all.

When the lights dimmed to signal it was time for everyone to find their way to their seats for dinner, my new friend pulled me in the opposite direction. We were both hungry, but not for food.

We ducked into an empty hallway that ran along the back of the ballroom. After trying a couple of doors, we found one that was unlocked. Lucky for us, there happened to be a linen closet on the other side.

My mysterious lothario urged me into the small space, closed the door behind us and switched on the light. He nodded toward a cart full of freshly laundered tablecloths that sat off to the side.

“Sit that sexy ass of yours down and spread your legs for me,” he ordered.

His no-nonsense tone spurred me into action right quick. There was no time to consider the crazy turn my evening had taken — that I was about to have sex with a man who I couldn’t name, let alone describe. My very first anonymous encounter.

I hopped up onto the pile of white linens and opened my legs as wide as my gown would allow.

“Very nice,” he murmured in appreciation. “My evening’s improving already.”

He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and placed it to the side, then he sank to his knees and positioned himself at my feet. My heart kicked into overdrive when he took the hem of my gown in his fist and ducked underneath it. The tight garment didn’t provide much room for movement, but he was undaunted in his quest to reach my pussy. I gasped when his fingers swept over my thighs. So close and yet so far from where I really wanted them.

Finally, his fingers skimmed over my hips and gripped my thong’s thin elastic waistband. His fingernails grazed my skin as he rolled the underwear down my thighs, causing a collection of goose bumps to rise in its wake.

Once my masked lover got the undergarment down around my ankles, he emerged from under my skirt just long enough to look me in the eye while he stuffed my undies in his back pocket. His mask was still firmly in place. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t make out the finer details of his features. I could see his lush, Cupid’s-bow lips and enticingly wet tongue, which was all that mattered to me.

“Lift your dress.”

He hit me with another one of those mega-watt smiles, and I swear, I finally understood what my girlfriends meant when they called a man’s appearance panty-melting. He’d barely touched me, yet liquid heat already pooled between my thighs.

Beyond ready to have that delectable mouth on my pussy, I bunched up as much of the fabric as I could and lifted my dress up past my hips. The satin partially obscured my view, making it difficult to watch when my mystery man buried his face between my thighs.

I may not have been able to see him, but I could feel him. Using his thumbs, he parted my cunt lips and worked his tongue inside me. Then he dragged it over my slick, pink skin, making a slow journey from one hole to the other.

My hips jerked when his bristly five-o’clock shadow tickled the puckered flesh of my asshole. After the initial shock of feeling his rough stubble rub against my tender flesh wore off, I found myself wishing he would do it again.

Worried that opening my mouth to speak would lead to moaning — and that moaning would lead to screaming potentially heard by anyone wandering the hall — I decided to take matters into my own hands and use action to get my point across instead. I raised my hips, tilting my pelvis up to provide the man between my legs with better access to my asshole.

My partner picked up on my not-so-subtle hint right away. He moved his mouth back to my ass, gently grazing the sensitive inside of my crack along the way. The grainy texture of his facial hair stimulated the delicate spot, sending a shiver up my spine.

I lifted my ass just a little bit higher off of the linens, serving myself up to my paramour.

He grunted his approval, sending waves of vibration reverberating through my flesh. Then he slid his hands beneath my cheeks and lifted my ass, bringing it closer to his face. The gesture added a touch of pressure that accentuated the effect of every flick and twitch of his tongue.

The results were explosive. Despite my sex-induced stupor, I managed to have the foresight to grab a napkin off the cart and bite down on it hard. Thank God I did. The fabric helped muffle the cries sparked by my second first-time experience of the evening — an orgasm reached by someone stimulating my asshole.

My lightning-fast release turned my muscles into jelly. I reclined into the linens, allowing us both to sink deeper into a chasm our bodies created in the pile of fabric.

But his finger nudging my backdoor put me on high alert. One very thick, blunt digit circled my asshole, spreading the saliva left behind from the rimjob I’d just received. When I was quivering with desire and anticipation, he pressed his finger firmly against my hole and sank inside.

The moment seemed to happen in slow motion for me. Still delirious from my climax, the feeling of that finger penetrating my back hole so insistently made my pussy flood with excitement. I felt my juices spilling out of my cunt, running down to my asshole in thick, slippery rivulets that aided his effort.

Once my partner’s finger was seated comfortably in my ass, he went back to eagerly eating my box. He swiped the flat of his tongue over my clit to get it good and wet, then he blew a puff of air over my pussy, the breeze cooling the dampened skin like a fresh kiss of winter air.

The unexpected chill made me tremble. It didn’t matter that a scorching blush bloomed over my limbs, chest and torso — when all of your awareness is centered on your pussy, it’s the only part that matters. Fortunately, I didn’t remain cold for long. He warmed me right back up by drawing my clit into his mouth and licking it thoroughly.

Sometimes his movements were languid and lazy — a slow series of swirling licks sharpening the edge of my arousal. But when I started to get too comfortable, there was a rapid change of pace. A shower of quick flicks landed on my clit, tapping out a rhythm I could feel in my bones. He followed that with a round of vigorous sucking that had me shaking like a leaf.

It didn’t matter that his actions were focused on one tiny part of my body; the effects rippled out far beyond his touch. Tendrils of pleasure unfurled from my core, slithering over my skin until they hit me in my fingers and toes. I was a shivering mess, but I’d never been so sexually excited in my life.

I bit down on the napkin again to suppress the scream that threatened to burst out of me. With great effort, I managed to hold back the sound, but not the gushing orgasm he triggered. Hot juice rushed from my core in an even greater flood than before. I knew I must be soaking the tablecloths tucked underneath me, but I didn’t care. My entire existence was reduced to the pleasure swirling through me, which was being caused by a complete stranger.

My masked maestro lapped at my slit, drinking up as much of my juice as he could manage. The moment felt completely dirty and decadent. 

“Mmm,” he uttered happily, his lips buzzing against my skin one last time before he stood. “Time for the main event,” he added with a wink.

He extended his hand, gesturing as though he meant to help me up. But instead, he pulled me close to his chest and quickly spun me around to face the cart. His other hand landed at the small of my back. He stroked a path up my spine until he reached the spot between my shoulder blades.

A quick shove found me facedown on the linen cart. He pulled my gown even higher up over my legs and hips, gathering the material so the bottom of my body remained gloriously bare.

One of his glossy black Oxfords snuck in between my feet to ease them apart and widen the gap between my legs.

The silky head of his unsheathed dick pressed against my vagina, stretching my hole to prepare for his entry. He drove into me so hard and fast that I pitched forward on the stack of linens, nearly breaking our connection. Pushing against the side of the cart fixed that. Now my partner was free to fuck me with all of his might — and he did.

Things reached a fever pitch when he grabbed my shoulders. His fingers curled into my flesh, holding me steady as he plowed into me so hard and fast his balls smacked my clit and helped push me toward yet another climax.

I soon found myself bucking back against him, wanting to take his dick inside me deeper and harder. My lover understood what I was asking for with my urgent motions and began answering the call of my writhing body. He seemed perfectly in tune with my needs and continued plunging his hard dick in and out of my cunt.

Concentrating on the feeling of his shaft piercing me over and over, I started squeezing my muscles around him in rhythm to our fucking. He groaned loudly, a helpless, reckless sound that made me feel an odd mixture of lust and pride. I continued massaging his cock with my pussy muscles, urging him toward his climax.

We both reached our peaks seconds apart and dissolved into a panting pile of limbs. Even though I knew it would be wiser to stay silent, I could not. My pleasure was too great and I shouted out my orgasmic joy, not caring who might overhear my cries.

Without a doubt, that climactic moment was the loudest of all of my orgasms that evening. Even with the napkin clenched between my teeth, I still drowned out my lover’s groans with my own ecstatic cries.

After the last of the tremors faded, we parted and started tidying our appearances. I shimmied my gown back into place and smoothed my hair, erasing any physical evidence of our liaison. But I felt like molten gold deep inside, shimmering and radiant.

Once we decided we could pass muster, the two of us snuck out into the hall, one at a time. Confident that we’d gotten away with enjoying a quick fuck during dinner, I returned to work with a smile on my face and absolutely no clue whose dick had been inside me.

To this day, I still don’t know, and that’s why thinking about that evening gives me such a thrill. It’s a first time I’ll never forget.