Unmasqued: An Erotic Novel of The Phantom of The Opera (20 page)

She slipped around to the front of him, already beginning to unfasten the buttons of her staid black gown. Firmin tried to resist, but no sooner had she opened the high collar and exposed her generous, red-tipped breasts than he was reaching for them.

Those long, elegant fingers closed, one over each breast, and hefted them, thumbs rippling over the pointed nipples. Maude, still smiling, unfastened his trousers and released the longest cock she had
ever
seen.
Mon Dieu
, if it were not pulsing and stretching so straight out, it would hang to his knees!

Liquid flooded her lower lips as she thought about the long, smooth strokes she would get from him. Pulling him toward her, she toppled back onto the orange and red mountains of Hell, and leveraged him off-balance on top of her.

Firmin did not seem to mind that she was in control; he appeared to be as enthralled by the size of her breasts as she was with the length of his cock. He did not wait to be directed; as the music swelled around them, camouflaging Maude’s groan of satisfaction, he closed his mouth over one thrusting nipple. Making little circles around it, over the tight, hard wrinkles of her areola, his tongue flicked and twitched against her nubbin. Long-anticipated pleasure washed over her, flowing straight to her belly and then her pip below.

“Ah,” she sighed gratefully, allowing her head to tip back onto the papier-mâché ledge behind her. She had not released his cock, and as he continued to suck and lick at her nipples, she felt his member grow harder and longer…and
longer
still!

The air around them was cool on her wet nipples, stirred by the activity onstage only
mètres
away. The dancing and the raising and lowering of scenery backdrops sent little gusts of breeze over her flesh, raising every hair and heightening the sensation of his hot mouth.

Her skirts flipped up over her open bodice, sending yet another puff of wind over her heated skin, and Maude felt the relief of fresh air on her thighs. Firmin was wasting no time, nor did he fumble with her skirts and crinolines.…She closed her eyes in satisfaction. A man with a wand like that surely knew how to wield it.

But then, as she felt his warm hands spreading the opening in her drawers, Maude recognized the music changing around them and realized…

“Non!”
she hissed, flipping her skirts back down and grabbing his bony wrist. From his position on his knees, he jerked away and tipped backward, and would have landed on his ass if she had not had hold of him. His long reddish cock protruded quite deliciously from the opening in his drawers, and Maude had only a bare second to admire its beauty before she pulled him to his feet.

But it was too late. The scenery on which they had been climbing had already begun to move and in moments, they would be exposed in all of their disheveled glory, not only to the backstage runners and waiting dancers, but to the audience as well.

Act II had come and, with it, Faust’s descent to Hell.

There was nowhere to go but with him.

Maude and Firmin had the realization at the same time, and they both scrambled into the back side of the massive structure as it rolled out from behind the curtains, and slipped into the small opening at the rear.

When they tumbled inside, Maude landed on top of Firmin. Under the irregular papier-mâché mountains, it smelled like sawdust and paint, and the stage lights blaring through the red and orange made the interior warm and glowing.

Before she had the chance to react, Firmin slipped out from
under her in the cramped, jutting space, and sidled up behind her. Maude cooperated and raised herself up on her hands and knees, feeling the gentle rumble of the scenery’s wheels moving beneath them as it—and they—were hauled to the middle of the stage.

Excitement built in her at the thought of potential discovery. To have the manager of the Opera House, and the proper ballet mistress, copulating inside the scenery just as Faust was experiencing the bowels of Hell…how delicious and erotic it would be! Perhaps their groans and moans would be faintly heard by some of the players…and the audience…and no one would know from whence they came! Her breaths were coming faster now, and she became impatient, ready for that long cock to draw pleasure from her, there in the midst of the performance.

From behind, Maude’s skirt lifted, her drawers were yanked down, and her ass was bare and waiting. She wriggled it impatiently before she felt the round tip of his cock knocking at the door. Arching her belly toward the floor, raising her hips and shoulders, Maude waited for that long, sweet length to slip inside.

She was not disappointed; in, and in, and
in
…she closed her eyes in deep pleasure as he pushed in as far as he could go…and then more. Her labia swelled, closing around him, sucking him into her hot depths.

He pushed up, right up against the inner hub of pleasure, the spot deep inside that never got enough attention. His hands grasped her hips, yet she could not feel his thighs against hers.…She reached back to tickle his ballocks and realized he
still had more to go
! He was so long that he could not fit his entire length inside her!

At that realization, Maude came. The orgasm shuddered through her, and she gasped in surprise. The crescendo of music
swallowed her reaction, which turned into a long, low moan as he began to stroke inside her before she’d finished convulsing around him.

He reached for her breasts with difficulty, as his cock was so long and rigid that it was difficult for them to get too close. Pinching at her nipples, plucking them, he raised her shoulders so that she knelt upright in front of him, her head nearly brushing one of the wooden beams above.

His breath was hot in her ear as he muttered, “I’ll fuck you hard, Madame Giry. You’re going to take my whole cock inside if I have to jam it up into your throat.” He slammed into her and she nearly lost her balance, one hand coming out in front of her, to catch on the wooden frame.

“You have the longest cock I have ever seen,” she replied, turning her head so that her words would go back to him. “You can slam that wand inside me anytime you wish.”

“I’m going to tear you apart with my long, hard cock,” he told her, pumping faster, grasping her nipples harder. “I’m going to tear your quim apart, I’m going to fuck you so hard. You’ve never had it like this before. You’re going to beg me for more.”

Pleasure-pain circled through her at his nasty, biting words. Maude’s breath came faster and she tipped her head back. “Fuck me, Firmin. You’re the manager. Fuck me. Tear my quim. Rip it up. Make me
come.
”

“I’m gonna fuck you until you cry for mercy. I don’t care if the whole Opera House hears you. And then I’m going to fuck you up the ass.”

Pleasure blossomed suddenly and she moved her hips in time, back and forth, pressing against the wall in front of her. “Harder, Firmin. Fuck me harder! Work…harder!” She came again, her
nipples tightening to the point of pain, pinched nearly flat by his fingers, and her sex trembling and weeping.

“Good. Now, on your back,” Firmin said, pulling his long cock from her. He pushed her to the floor, onto her back, and straddled her belly. “Now, Madame Bitch, you’re going to suck me.” His cock jutted out so far it nearly touched her chin. She smiled in anticipation.

“I’m going to suck you like a child’s lollipop. I’m going to suck you so hard, you’re going to scream like a girl. And beg me to let you come.” She lifted up and pulled his hips closer, bringing that slender cock into her mouth.

He sighed, closing his eyes, and jammed in as far as it would go. She coughed, choked, then sucked as though she could pull his insides out. She slipped both hands around the exposed length of his erection, working them as an extension of her mouth, trying to encase his entire length.

“Yes, you dirty bitch,” he muttered as she worked beneath him. “You’re going to drown in my spooge. You’re going to choke and cough and I’m going to keep coming and coming.…”

The music and dancing around them swelled and ebbed, and there were moments when Piangi’s bass voicing of Mephistopheles slipped so low that anyone near the Hell scenery might be able to hear Firmin if they happened to be listening. But Maude didn’t care. Her focus was on the long, slick cock that choked her every time it hit the back of her throat.

He played with her breasts, and she could tell he was getting close. She felt his come moving along the full length of his dick, shuttling along toward the head, where it would spurt into her welcoming mouth—and then suddenly he pulled back, out, away.

“I’m going to fuck your titties,” he said hoarsely, gathering up
her breasts in his hands. In the warm red glow of the Hell around them, she could see the fervency in his eyes. “I’m going to fuck those lovely tits of yours!”

He slid his cock in the valley between them, and reached behind him to slide one hand through the juices drenching her sex. He tweaked her sex, and she jerked beneath him again in a small surprise of an orgasm, and then he took his dripping hand and wiped his cock with her juices. Her smell mingled with his, musky and delicious, and Maude could not take her eyes from his glistening cock.

Then, with his long, warm hands, he pushed her breasts together hard, forming a tight, constricting passage around his cock. And then he started to stroke. Back and forth, the head of his cock bumping into her chin, his thumbs teasing her nipples as he worked back and forth in a heated frenzy. He looked down, watching, never taking his eyes from the slip and slide of his cock between her breasts. Maude had never been fucked like this before, and her labia constricted and swelled, and wanted that delicious wand inside her.

She reached around and found her nib behind his ass, and his cock head banged her chin when she shifted. Firmin was moving faster, his hips pumping, his ass flexing over her belly as he stroked and stroked.…She touched her sex, jiggled it, just as he gave a massive gasp and spurted warm, thick come all over her chin and neck and into the pool at the bottom of her throat.

Maude jolted her pip and felt the same shudders sweep over her as she reached with her other hand to smooth the salty, musky come all over the head of his cock.

Then Firmin collapsed next to her and just about that time, they felt the scenery rolling back off the stage.

Moments later, when the scenery had been pushed aside, a very
disheveled manager and a very properly buttoned, but lasciviously smiling, ballet mistress clambered out of the back of Hell, and no one was the wiser.

Maude had just found her way back into the stage area where the dancers were preparing for Act III when one of the stagehands hurried up to her.

“Miss Daaé has returned,” he announced.

“C
hristine! Please!” Raoul begged, holding her slender white hand in his. “Please tell me what happened during those days you disappeared. I’ve been trying to see you for weeks since your return, and you have been putting me off.”

“But I am seeing you now.” Christine looked away from his pleading blue eyes.

How could she explain to him that she had given her heart to another, only to have it rent from her? Destroyed by her own foolish choice, her own whim. How could she explain that she felt dead inside instead of alive, as she should feel now that she’d returned to the world of light?

“It has been three weeks since your return,” Raoul continued. “You have walked about as if you are no more than a ghost…a specter, hardly noticing me when I call after you. Please tell me what
I can do to return a smile to your face…color to your cheeks…a sparkle to your eyes. Please…Christine, tell me how I can help you sing again.”

Her belly twisted. “I will not sing,” she told him, but she left some kindness in her voice. He could not understand, and she could not punish him for his ignorance. “And I fear that there is nothing you can do but allow me to recover. I am merely weary.” It was a lie, but what else could she say to such an earnest face, one that carried the illumination of obsessive love in its eyes?

“I told you I would still love you if you never sang again, and I will. But I feel I cannot allow it when I see how you are so ill. You must sing again.”

She shook her head firmly. Her eyes felt parched and heavy in their sockets. She had no idea how many times she’d cried them dry. “Christine, please. I have loved you for so long.…You can have no idea what I lived through when you were gone for those days. Please, at least tell me that you were not harmed…that he—it was he, was it not?—did not harm you.”

“He, yes, it was he. And he did not hurt me.…” Her voice choked and broke off. No, he did not hurt her in a way that left ugly red scars, purple bruises, or twisted limbs. A mangled heart,
oui
, but that was buried inside of her where no one could see.

She could never go back.…She might yearn for his love, his companionship, his tenderness…but she could not go back to that horror…that deep, burning anger and those ugly, twisted scars. His fury and hatred still scored her, as if he blasted her with a whip. He’d looked at her with loathing and repugnance, leaving her to cry herself to sleep, dreaming of his rages and his twisted face. When she awoke, she was back in her dressing room. Alone.

That was more than three weeks ago, and she had cried every night. She’d walked through the days in a stupor. She had been
foolish, indeed, but Erik had sent her away. After all that they had shared, he’d sent her back.

And he’d not come to her since.

His face was horrible. The sudden revelation of what was under the mask had startled and frightened her, but not nearly so much as the rage and loathing that had followed. How could she live with that?

No. She must make her life here, in what she had come to think of as the World of Light. A world where she could see the man who loved her…where she could see and be seen with him. Where it would not be a great feat to walk along the street, hand on his arm, and shop in the shops, and dine with the managers. Where he had nothing to hide.