It was necessary for me, Virago Blue, to seek respite from the passion-fest. I needed a quiet moment to refuel. I was fascinated with this glorious castle. Once inside I was determined to take a private tour. I loved exploring secretive nooks and crannies, especially one as massive as Lord Malinov's. First things first, I must not be rude to my host.
After appropriate introductions, I grabbed a bottle of wine, carefully refilling my goblet (my hands were still trembling from my encounter with Master Pendragon), and continued on my way.
My feet were bare, enabling me to pad unnoticed by a few involved guests. I made my way deeper into the recesses of the castle. How glorious, I thought. Such a beautiful setting for a party. I chose to wear a powder blue negligee this day, the diaphanous fabric setting off my pale nipples and unruly patch of dark gold between my legs. The neckline dipped dangerously low, exposing a tiny sliver of flushed areola to the naked eye on occasion. Dainty silver chains adorned my neck and ankles, tinkling daintily as I sashayed down the corridors. My hair fell in riotous ringlets to the middle of my back and I was constantly pushing the unruly mass behind my shoulders. I felt like a fairy among the magic of this castle.
I continued with my exploration, stopping here and there to admire a sculpture or a peculiar painting. Doors did not form a barrier to me, as nothing seemed to be locked. My eyes fell upon many entangled limbs and more, and was often met with "join us?" With a polite shake of the head and my goblet lifted in a toast, I moved farther down the hallways and grandiose rooms.
Eventually the elegance of the architecture began to wear on me. An alcove nearby promised solitude and rest while I finished my wine. While small, the alcove must have served some sort of purpose. A candle shimmered in a gilded sconce on the wall, illuminating a magnificent painting of an incredibly handsome nobleman. I lowered myself to the bench opposite the painting and leaned against the cool stone wall, my gaze never leaving the face of the man. I studied this painting more than any other I have ever come across. It had a quality about it that I could not explain. I was intrigued, to say the least, but that's not all. I was aroused. Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the party. No, it was this man.
There was no nameplate indicating the subject of the painting. I formed a fantasy of my own. So far away from the others in the castle, and truth be told, very uninhibited after all the wine, I began to converse with the painting as if he were there in front of me, teasing me into conversation.
.... There is more of this story ...