Under the mask

She slips on the mask and the world falls away. No names to carry, no eyes that know her. Just the heat of a crowded room and the permission to take what she wants. She finds him by the bar, tall, quiet, mask black as pitch. They don't speak. Hands meet first, then mouths, then the urgent pull toward a quieter hall. On her knees in seconds. Blonde hair spills over her shoulders while her tongue works him slow and deep, lips stretched, eyes half-lidded behind the mask. He groans, fists tightening in her hair, and she swallows him farther, throat fluttering around the head. When he lifts her, she turns without question. Hands braced against the wall, dress bunched at her waist. He spits once, rubs the slick head against her tight ring, then pushes in. The first inch steals her breath. The next drags a low moan from her throat. She pushes back, taking him all the way, ass stretched full, breath fogging the mask. He fucks her steady, deep strokes that make her legs shake. Each thrust knocks a wet sound from her cunt. She reaches down, rubs her clit fast, comes hard with his cock buried in her ass. He follows right after, pulsing thick inside her while she clenches around him, milking every drop. They separate without a word. She fixes her dress, touches the mask once, and steps back into the party like nothing happened.