Masks

by Ann Douglas

Copyright© 1999 by Ann Douglas. All rights reserved.

Interracial Lesbian Sex Story: When Taylor Stuart found the invitation to the masked ball, it seemed like such a waste to let it go unused.

Caution: This Interracial Lesbian Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   Consensual   Lesbian   Fiction   Interracial   Black Female   White Female   .

"This," thought Taylor Stuart as she dropped exhausted into the empty salon chair and ran a hand through her long waist length hair, "has got to have been the worst day of my life."

Sitting back with her eyes closed, the twenty four-year-old brunette reviewed the events that caused her to make such a declaration. Her first disaster of the day had actually started the night before with the sudden arrival of her sometimes lover, George Williams, at her apartment.

The relationship between the two was based largely on sex and little else. George had a cock that looked like it should be in a porn film and was, at least in Taylor's opinion, one hell of a fuck. At first she had been a little annoyed at his showing up so unexpectedly at her door.

Then George had started to turn on the charm. Coupled with the lucky absence of her roommate Donna, who had a family emergency and had to spend the night at her parents, one thing had led to another. Before long they were rocking the sheets like a couple of rabbits.

After a night of boisterous lovemaking, they started an encore presentation early this morning. Taylor had her face buried in a pillow as George plowed his cock into her. He was just about to come when he called out her name. Unfortunately, he only thought it was her name.

"God, Donna," he'd yelled, "you are so fucking tight!"

Needless to say, Taylor lost all sexual interest when she heard her roommate's name. In the hour they had argued after that, she'd learned that George had actually come over to get it on with Donna, and had settled for Taylor when he found she wasn't there. Worse yet, the fight had made her late for her job at the Salon.

Her second conflict of the day was with Anna Mugavero, the fifty-two year old owner of the Beauty Salon. This was the third time Taylor had been late this month and Anna spent fifteen long minutes pointing out that if it happened a fourth time, she might as well stay in bed for good.

Taylor suffered in silence as Anna dressed her down in front of everyone else in the shop. She knew that it wasn't just her being late that had set the older woman off. Karen and Sonny, two of the other girls had worse records than she did and didn't have to put up with half this crap. No, Anna had it in for her for a far different reason.

The previous December, the Merchants Association had sponsored a grand Christmas and New Years Party at Roselli's Catering Hall. Every business in the area had contributed to the party and it had been full of good food, good music, and really great booze. Sometime about eleven, when the party was really rocking, Taylor had gone looking for the ladies room.

After two wrong turns, Taylor thought she'd found the right door. Unfortunately, it had been Roselli's private office instead. Even more unfortunate was the fact that it wasn't empty. There, kneeling on the carpeted floor, was a very drunk and semi-naked Anna Mugavero. She was in the process of blowing the 69-year-old Tony Roselli.

Giddy as she was, Taylor had taken one look at Roselli's cock sliding in and out of Anna's mouth and burst out laughing. In her intoxicated state she couldn't stop giggling, no matter how hard she tried.

The next morning, despite a first class hangover, she had gone over to Anna's apartment to apologize. Considering the things she had done drunk, Anna blowing the old man was kid stuff. Besides, it was only the surprise of having walked in on them that had set her off. For an older man, Mr. Roselli was in pretty good shape. And as for Anna, well she did run a beauty salon and knew how to always bring out her best. She'd seen couples doing it before, and it wasn't if she'd run off and told Mrs. Roselli that Anna was sucking off her husband.

But Anna wanted no part of any apology, no matter how contrite it might have been. Since that night, neither of them had ever mentioned the incident again. Yet Anna never let an opportunity pass to embarrass her as she felt she had been embarrassed.

Problems three and four came in the persons of Mrs. Elizabeth Katts and Miss Evelyn Donacello, two of the Salon's oldest and most demanding clients. Anna Mugavero took a perverse delight in always assigning them to Taylor. Even individually, either woman was enough to try even a Saint's patience. Today, both of them had more than earned their reputations.

It was only after lunch that Taylor thought her day might be changing for the better. She smiled when she saw the name Kathleen Foster in the appointment book. Kathleen was her favorite client, the antitheses of the two women she had to deal with in the morning. Many times Anna had tried to assign Kathleen to one of the other girls, but the twenty-six year old businesswoman would hear nothing of it. It was that way with a lot of Taylor's clients and the reason Anna kept Taylor on despite their mutual antagonism.

Taylor loved working on Kathleen for two reasons. Kathleen was exactly the type of woman Taylor wished she could be more like. Confident, dynamic, successful, all the things she didn't see in herself. Despite all of that and the difference in their backgrounds, Kathleen never looked down at Taylor as some of the other clients did.

If you put the two women side by side, they shared a certain physical similarity as well. Both were brunettes of similar shades and stood five seven. Even their measurements came close, with Taylor having a slightly larger bust.

Taylor and Kathleen chatted while she worked on her hair. Kathleen told Taylor that she was going to a big Halloween Ball tomorrow night and wanted to look her best. Taylor remarked that she was going to a costume party herself, but she was sure the people at the two parties would be quite different.

Kathleen replied with a knowing smile. The sort of grin that said Taylor couldn't image how true her remark really was.

"I'd invite you to my party but I'm not sure you would..." Kathleen started to say, then suddenly gasped for air.

It was that moment that all hell broke loose. Kathleen suddenly turned pale and started to shake uncontrollably. It was immediately obvious to Taylor that her client was having a seizure. A woman in the next chair screamed in shock, an action repeated by several others, including Anna Mugavero. Panic, as always, was contagious.

Or so it seemed. Taylor, however, kept her cool. Back in high school, the beautician had entertained the idea of becoming a nurse for half a semester. She went so far as doing some volunteer work at the local hospital. Work that involved taking some basic emergency aid courses. In a flash, all of those old lessons came back to her.

"Call for an ambulance!" Taylor called out as she reacted to the crisis and made sure that Kathleen didn't choke. "Don't just stand there you stupid bitch!" she yelled at Anna when she saw her just standing there, paralyzed with fear. "Call the paramedics!"

Finally spurred by Taylor's words, Anna reached for the phone. Thankfully, Saint Mary's Hospital was only ten blocks away and help arrived in minutes. As they carried Kathleen away, Taylor could feel Anna's eyes burning into her back. She was sure she could kiss this job goodbye after her outburst.

"I'm going to overlook your impertinence this time," Anna said, ignoring the fact that it was only Taylor's quick action that had helped Kathleen. "Seeing as it was an emergency and so many people were panicking. But I still expect you to stay tonight and clean up, make up that lost time from this morning."

Taylor replied with a nod, afraid if she opened her mouth she would say something that Anna wouldn't like. When she thought about, Taylor realized that Anna wouldn't let her foil go so easily. Silently however, she resolved to find the courage to make some changes in her life. Beginning with finding a better place to work.

Later in the day, before she started to clean up, Taylor called the hospital to check on Kathleen's condition. Normally they wouldn't give out such information to a stranger on the phone. But when she explained to the Nurse that she had been the one to give first aid to the stricken woman, the Nurse felt a little more sympathetic. She told her that Kathleen was doing fine, but that they were going to keep her over the weekend for observation. That pleased Taylor. Anna hadn't even bothered to call before she went home.

Opening her eyes, Taylor happened to spot a silver and gold envelope sticking out from under one of the cabinets. Curious, she bent down and picked it up. To her surprise, the name of Kathleen Foster was on the envelope.

"This must've fell out of her purse when it was knocked off the counter." Taylor thought as she wondered what was in it. "Only one way to find out." she added. It turned out to be the invitation to the Halloween Ball Kathleen had been talking about. The Ball was being given by something called the Sean McMurphy Memorial Fund. Taylor had never heard of before. She had, however, heard of the Grand Astoria Hotel, which the invitation showed as the site of the Ball. Only last week, Taylor had read an article about the multi-million dollar restoration of the old hotel and how it was going to have a big Grand Re-Opening next month. Evidently, it seemed that this Sean McMurphy Fund was able to book the entire Hotel for their Ball before that.

"The ticket for the Ball even comes with a room," Taylor noted as she read the rest of the papers in the envelope.

It seemed Kathleen had been nominated for membership in some sort of professional society and as part of that nomination, the society was picking up the tab for the entire weekend at the Grand Astoria.

"Just think of all those people at the Grand Astoria," Taylor said to the empty salon. "Enjoying shrimp and champagne while I eat cheese doodles and Pepsi at Monica's party. I bet there's a lot better class of men at that party too. At least ones who wouldn't be trying to grope her ass after a few beers."

Putting all the papers back in the envelope, Taylor thought it was a shame that Kathleen was going to miss the Ball. She imagined again all the professional men that must attend functions like that and tried to remember Kathleen ever mentioning a boyfriend or anything. Or was she, Taylor wondered, one of those women so wrapped up in their careers that they had no time for romance.

"Look at me criticizing someone else's love life." Taylor went on, "Like I've had such great luck with men."

Looking up at the clock on the wall, Taylor decided she'd put in as much extra time as she needed to make up for being late this morning. She'd half expected that bitch Anna to call from home to make sure she was still here. Tossing the gold envelope into one of the wastebaskets, the twenty-four year out headed for the door and home.

"Too bad I couldn't change places with Kathleen for the night," she mused as she pushed the invitation from her mind. "It'll probably be a hell of a party."

Taylor had locked the door behind her and was halfway down the street when she paused. A fantastic thought filled her mind.

"Why couldn't I?" she thought. "Why couldn't I go in Kathleen's place? After all, it's a Halloween Ball. Everyone's going to be in a costume. And it's not like she paid for the tickets, so I wouldn't be stealing or anything like that."

As quick as Taylor tried to think of new justifications for acting on this crazy impulse, another voice inside of her responded with reasons what she shouldn't. It finally came down to the memory of Anna's shrill voice and how she treated her like trash. If she was going to make some changes in her life, maybe a little adventure was as good a place to start as any.

With a smile on her face and a new determination in her heart, Taylor spun on her heels and went back to the Salon. Two minutes later she was again walking down the same street, this time with the coveted invitation in her hand.


"Good afternoon, may I help you?" the pretty young Asian woman behind the counter, whose nametag identified as Mei-Ling, looked up and asked.

Taylor took a deep breath before answering. What seemed like a good idea only last night, now seemed like insanity in the light of day. It had taken her over a half-hour of debate within herself to even step into the hotel, much less approach the check in counter. Right now, part of her wanted to just turn and run.

She had spent a good part of the morning trying to decide how a young businesswoman would dress when going to a hotel. Finally she decided a simple blue print would be okay.

"I'm ... Kathleen Foster..." she said in a low hesitant voice, as if afraid that bells and alarms were about to go off. "I have a reservation."

The pretty girl, who Taylor thought couldn't have been more than eighteen, smiled once more and typed Kathleen Foster into her computer. It was only a moment before the confirmation came up on the screen, but to Taylor it seemed like an eternity.

"Here we go," Mei-Ling said. "Room 314 in the west wing. A very nice room. If you'll just fill out this registration card, I'll have one of our bellhops help you with your bag."

As Taylor filled out the small card, careful to fill in the information for Kathleen Foster, she didn't notice one of the two bellhops who had been stand a dozen feet away, respond to Mei-Lings summons. If she had, she might have found it surprising that they were both young women as well.

"I can handle my bag," Taylor said automatically, "It's just the one."

""Very good," the Asian woman said as Taylor handed back the card. "Now I just need your credit card to make an imprint and you'll be on your way."

"My credit card... ?" Taylor asked in terror, a sudden chill flashing through her.

"Is there a problem?" Mei-Ling asked.

"I thought, what I mean is..." Taylor started to say as she tried to think of a reason why she wouldn't have a card.

She was about to make a show of looking for her wallet in her purse and then saying she must have forgot it at home. If nothing else, she would then leave and never come back.

"That won't be necessary, Mei-Ling." said another voice from behind Taylor.

The brunette turned to see a tall, dark skilled woman with very short curly black hair standing next to her. She was wearing a navy blue jacket, white shirt and matching skirt. Taylor guessed that she was in her early thirties.

"Ms. Foster is one of our new nominees," the black woman said. "The Foundation is taking care of all of her expenses."

"Of course," Mei-Ling replied as she typed in the proper code on the registration. "Welcome to the Grand Astoria, Ms. Foster." she beamed as she handed Taylor an electronic key to her room. Enjoy your stay."

"Thank you." Taylor said in a relief filled voice.

"Are you okay?" the woman in blue asked. "You seem a little flushed."

"Just the excitement, that's all." Taylor quickly covered.

"Of course." came the reply. "I'm Sanura Jackson, head of the Foundation's Membership Committee."

"Nice to meet you." Taylor said as she reached out to meet Sanura's outstretched hand.

The smile on her face was genuine. If the head of the membership committee didn't spot her as a fake, then she was home free.

"Do you also work here at the hotel?" Taylor asked, trying to make conversation.

"Me? Oh no. In real life I'm a specialist in corporate security. I did almost ten years with the government, then opened my own business."

"I'm sorry, I though when I saw you and the girl at the counter wearing the same pin that..."

"This pin?" Sanura asked, a touch of confusion in her voice as she indicated the gold pin on her lapel. "You must've seem one of the Foundation's pins before?"

"Of course, where is my head this afternoon?" Taylor asked herself. "It just looked a little different in this light, that's all."

Sanura seemed to accept that answer, or so Taylor hoped.

"Actually none of the people here are hotel staff." Sanura went on. "We prefer to use our own Foundation volunteers when we have functions like this. It tends to keep things more private."

"I understand." Taylor answered, as if she had the slightest idea what Sanura was talking about.

"Actually it was McMurphy Industries that bought and renovated the hotel. And since Scarlett still heads the Board of Directors, there was no problem with us borrowing it for the Ball."

Taylor continued to agree, wondering if she was supposed to know who Scarlett was.

"It's too bad she's stuck in the Caribbean by that storm. She usually never misses one of the Foundation's bashes. I hope I'm that active when I get to be her age."

Letting out a secret sigh of relief when they got to the elevators, Taylor hoped Sanura didn't insist on seeing her up to her room as well. Thankfully the taller woman stopped short of that.

"Well thanks for your help." Taylor said.

"Not really much in the way of help, but you're welcome." Sanura replied. "Maybe later, after you've settled in, we can have a drink or something. I'd like to get to know you a little better."

"I'd like that." Taylor answered to be polite, hoping that she didn't run into Sanura again before the Ball.

As the elevator doors closed between them, Taylor noted that Sanura seemed to be very pleased with her reply.

"I never thought someone into security would be that friendly with people." she mused as the indicator light turned into a three. "Guess it takes all kinds."

Once in her room, Taylor decided to take a little nap. The Costume Ball didn't start until eight. That gave her more than a few hours to kill. Stripping down to her underwear, she noted that the room she had been given was a lot better than her apartment. She didn't want to even think about what it would normally cost per night.

She undid her bra, dropping it onto the floor. Strong fingers massaged her rounded breasts, bringing back the sensation she sometimes lost when her bra was too tight. Mentally she made a note to buy some new ones, but knew that there was always more demand on her paycheck than she could afford.

"Enough of that." she laughed as she dropped on the still made bed. "I'll worry about everything else on Monday. This weekend is for having fun."

Stretched out semi-nude on the bed, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. In her dreams she could imagine that this life was hers for real.

"Oh God, it can't be morning already." Taylor groaned as she rolled over on the soft bed toward the ringing sound that had disturbed her slumber.

It took a few seconds for her to grasp that it was the phone and not her alarm clock that was ringing. The realization that this wasn't her apartment a brief moment later snapped her fully awake.

"Hello... ?" she said into the receiver as she lifted the phone.

"Good Evening, Ms. Foster." said a lyrical voice over the phone. "You asked for a reminder call at six forty five."

"Oh yes, I did, didn't I? she remembered. "Thank you very much."

With renewed energy, she bounced off the bed. The nap had been a great idea. Now she felt like she could go all night.

"Well as I'm sure Cinderella once said," she laughed. "It's off to the Ball I go."

Taylor closed her eyes as she stepped into the shower and warm water splashed against her skin. It felt great after her nap. She was as excited as could be about her little adventure. There was such a forbidden nature about it all.

Running her hands down her soapy body, down between her legs, Taylor discovered she was aroused. Normally she didn't get that way again until a few days after she and George had one of their marathon screwing sessions. Yet as she played her fingers over her body, she suddenly felt as horny as if she'd been celibate for a month.

"Must be the new me." she laughed to herself. "Hope I find a cute guy tonight to take care of my itch. But just in case..."

Taylor again stroked her breasts, bringing her pert nipples to a familiar hardness. As always, her touch felt so good. Soapy hands glided down across her slim stomach, finding their way to the light brown bush below. She continued down between her legs and then around to the cheeks of her ass, leaving a soap trail of bubbles in her wake.

Taylor let out a soft sigh as her fingers rubbed against her mound. Running her other hand across her firm breasts once again, she gave them a playful squeeze.

With a practiced hand that began to learn its skill when she'd first masturbated at 13, Taylor parted her vaginal lips, quickly finding the prize within. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the wall and began to rub herself.

"Oh yes." she purred as a familiar tingle spread out from her cunt. "That feels nice."

She slid a finger up within herself, followed by a second and a third. It was a poor substitute for a hard cock, but it would have to do.

It wasn't long before she was furiously pumping her fingers in and out, stoking the tiny flame between her legs into a roaring fire.

The warm water had turned to hot, filling the bathroom with steam. The heat of which paled to that radiating across her quaking body as her fingers caressed her love canal in an orgasmic frenzy.

With water running down her face, her lips let go a quiet sigh. Taylor felt her legs and arms go weak as repeated waves of delight rippled up and down her naked form.

Long silent moments, broken only by the splatter of the shower drops, passed as the brunette rested against the now warm tile. The water washing away the traces of her climax.

"Oh that felt good." Taylor said as she filled her hands with water and splashed it across her face.

Wrapped only in a towel, she stepped back into the room. Taylor opened her bag and laid out the costume she had brought with her. It was the outfit she had originally planned to wear to Monica's party. Not for the first time, she wondered if perhaps it was a little too daring for an upscale party like this one.

"What the hell," she concluded. "It's too late to get a new one now."

Undoing her towel and tossing it on the bed, Taylor changed into her third identity of the day.

The costume, what little there was of it, was a bright flaming red. Appropriate enough considering who she was supposed to be. The hem of her skirt ended less than six inches below her crotch, showing an amount of skin only exceeded by the amount of cleavage a very plunging neckline exposed. The thin material clung tightly against her braless breasts, holding them in place and at the same time, displaying all their charms. You didn't have to get too close to see the outline of her nipples pressed against the fabric. Hanging from beneath her skirt was a short, forked tail. On her forehead, held in place by spirit gum, were two small horns.

"You little devil you." Taylor laughed as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.

As a final touch, she pressed a small raccoon type red mask against her face. That and a small pitchfork completed the ensemble.

Turning around to check her rear reflection, Taylor saw that any onlooker would have little trouble telling that she had left her panties behind with her bra.

"Might as well live the part," she laughed. "What's the worst they can do to me, ask me to leave?"

She walked out into the hall and called for people already there to hold the elevator. The doors of which were already closing.

"Thanks," Taylor said to the woman in the 1920's flapper outfit who had held the door for her.

"No problem." came her reply.

"Nice costume." Taylor said.

"Yours too." the flapper said, taking the time to really take in what Taylor was wearing, or what she wasn't wearing.

Turning to the other woman behind them, Taylor no longer worried about any improprieties of dress. It was impossible not to stare at the well-endowed redhead. She was going to the party as Eve, a costume Taylor remembered Debbie Thomas wearing last year. Unlike Debbie, this woman wasn't wearing a bodystocking. In fact, aside from a smile, all she was wearing was a g-string shaped like a fig leaf.

"This party is going to be more interesting than I thought." Taylor concluded.

The Ballroom was already filled with at least a hundred people when Taylor stepped in, with more coming in. She paused at the organizational table and took note of were she was sitting. Thankfully she didn't see Sanura's name at either her table or any of the surrounding ones.

Making her way across the crowded floor, Taylor took note of all the various costumes. There were people dressed up as animals and characters from movies. As well as fantasy characters and even superheroes from the comics. There were even folks just made up as different professions.

"I could have come as a beautician," Taylor laughed silently as she spotted her table, "But I think the devil has a lot more fun."

Finding her cardboard nameplate, Taylor took her seat. There were six other costumes at the table, which she took in one at a time.

First there was Snow White, right out of the Theme Park in Florida. Although Taylor doubted the one at Disneyworld was so well endowed, or put so much on that endowment on display. Next to her was a woman in the traditional French maids' outfit. A version of which, like her devil's garb, left little to the imagination. Then came an older woman dressed as Cleopatra.

Sitting across from Taylor was an Asian woman in an outfit that reminded her of an old time Charlie Chan movie. The woman's hair was done up in a bun and a decorative, red mandarin style dress seemed to be spray painted onto her body. When she moved to get up out of her chair to shift her tail, Taylor noticed the slit of the dress ran from her ankle almost all the way up to her waist. It took a third look to realize it, but the woman in the mandarin dress was Mei-Ling from the front desk.

On the far end of the table was a black woman in a cheerleader outfit, decked out in blue and silver. Sitting next to her was another blonde, with a white dress that made her look just like that famous photo of Marilyn Monroe. Finally next to Taylor was a harem costumed Jeannie right out of the old TV series.

"I don't believe this," Taylor said to herself as she finished her circumference out the table. "There's not a single guy at this table."

Looking over at the table behind her, it occurred to her that there were no men there either. A funny feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach.

"I know I passed some guys at that table over there." she reminded herself as she looked back in that direction. 'The ones dressed as the Construction Worker, the Scarecrow and the Pirate."

That funny feeling exploded as she realized that all three of them were women as well.

"Oh shit," she said under her breath as she realized what kind of party this really was. "I never would have guess that Kathleen was a..."

"Excuse me, would you like to dance?" a soft voice over her shoulder interrupted her toughest.

"What?" Taylor said as she turned in the direction of the voice.

"I asked if you would like to dance, Kathleen isn't it?" said the woman in surgical greens as she read the nameplate on the table.

Taylor thought about it for a moment. She had said she wanted to have an adventure -- wanted to be Kathleen for the night. Looking at the short haired redhead before her, she decided that Kathleen would definitely dance with her.

"I always wanted to date a Doctor." Taylor joked as she rose to accept the invitation, wondering if the thirty something woman might really be one. The outfit seemed real enough.

"I'm Janice." she said as she took Taylor's hand in hers.

Out on the dance floor, it felt a little funny at first to be dancing with a woman. To have her hold her as a man would. Then as they got caught up in the rhythm of the live band, having feminine flesh pressed against hers didn't seem as strange. When Janice pulled her even closer, Taylor could feel the woman's hands through the thin fabric covering her ass. Taylor could see the delight in her eyes as the doctor discovered her lack of panties and slid one under the skirt to caress bare flesh.

"My, you are a devil." she whispered into Taylor's ear as her fingers touched her tightly cropped mound. "And a wet one at that."

Taylor should've been horrified at the idea of another woman touching her pussy, or so she told herself. But tonight she was Kathleen, and that was perfectly acceptable. Even when she felt Janice's lips press against hers at the end of the dance, she willingly accepted the offering.

"I enjoyed our dance." Janice said as they began to walk off the floor.

"So did I?" Taylor replied.

"Maybe we can have another one later on" Janice said.

"Maybe." Taylor mused as the two women parted.

Taylor didn't go right back to her table. Instead she found a spot where she could watch the rest of the dancers. They all did seem to be having fun. If she ignored the fact that they were all women, it looked like any other club she'd ever gone too. And she had to admit, it'd been a long time since she'd felt this excited.

As she scanned the crowd, looking at some of the more interesting costumes, Taylor stopped when she saw that of the woman moving toward her. Wearing a long, very long, body length blonde wig and nothing else, the subject of Taylor's attention had come as Lady Godiva. As abundant as her costume hair was, it did little to actually cover what had to be a near perfect body. Every time she moved, her hair would shift yet again, exposing another part of her to view. It was a captivating sight and it was obvious from watching many heads turn, that Taylor wasn't the only one who thought so.

"My, I've had a devil of a time finding you." said the woman who unexpectedly stepped in front of Taylor, blocking her view of Godiva.

"Hi Sanura." she said as she recognized the face that went with the voice.

True to her profession, Sanura now wore the uniform of a security officer, but not the sort you'd find on the job. Her hat was standard issue, as was her short-sleeved blouse, except that enough buttons were open to give everyone a plentiful view. Instead of a skirt or trousers, Sanura wore matching blue hot pants. The badge on her uniform had been custom made and read pussy police.

"We didn't get to have our drink." the policewoman said.

"I took a nap and slept the afternoon away." Taylor offered in way of explanation. "Can I make it up to you with a dance?"

"Well it's a start." the black woman said.

Out on the dance floor, Sanura held Taylor even tighter than Janice had. Taylor could feel the policewoman's breasts pressing against her own and her nostrils filled with the sweet smell of her perfume. The song the band was playing was a very old tune, exactly the sort of thing made for slow sexy dancing.

"I guess this is how a guy feels." Taylor thought as she felt the heat of Sanura's body. "Not a bad feeling at all."

Taylor felt the older woman's lips brush against her cheek, much like Janice had done. Then she went a little further and slid her tongue along the groove of her ear.

Caught up in the moment, Taylor tilted her head and kissed Sanura lightly on her lips. The tangy taste of her bright red lipstick was a much different sensation from when she kissed George.

Sanura kissed Taylor back, her lips just a little more forceful. Just enough for her to slip out her tongue and press it against Taylor's mouth. The second time she did it, the brunette opened her mouth just enough to let it make contact with her own tongue. The spark when they touched was electric.

"I have to confess," Sanura said as they broke the kiss and continued to dance. "I was quite taken with you the moment I saw you in the lobby."

"You were?" Taylor said surprised.

"I've always had a weakness for pretty white girls. I know it's not very politically correct, but then again I've never been a very PC kind of person." Sanura went on. "But when I saw you, I just wanted to pick you up and take you to bed. I hope that doesn't shock you?"

"No, it doesn't" Taylor said. In fact, she was surprised to find that the statement actually kind of excited her.

"Good, I'm glad it doesn't." Sanura smiled as she ran her index finger down Taylor's back.

"Are you wet?" Sanura whispered into her ear.

The question took Taylor by surprise. Before she realized it, she had answer in the affirmative.

"Am I making you wet?" Sanura asked again.

"Yes." came the whispered reply.

"Do you want me?" Sanura asked as she slid her hand between Taylor's legs and stretched a dark finger across her pussy. A pussy that was far wetter than when it had been touched a short time before.

"Do you want me?" Sanura finally asked.

Taylor's head was spinning. Everything was happening all too fast. She had to remind herself that she really wasn't Kathleen Foster. That was only a mask she was wearing, no more real than the devil costume she wore.

"I want to rip that costume off you and make love to every inch of your body." Sanura said loud enough for several of the women dancing closest to them to hear. "I want to make you come so bad that you can't stand."

Taylor looked at the women around her who had heard the comment. None of them seemed surprised or even embarrassed. If anything, two of them seemed envious.

She looked back into Sanura's dark eyes. It was as if she had fallen under some kind of spell. She had never been in a situation like this before. With guys, she had always been the one in control. She had always been the one to decide what was and wasn't going to happen. Now she found herself looking down a path she knew was forbidden, but was drawing her further down it with each heartbeat.

"Do you want me?" Sanura asked for a third time.

Taylor couldn't believe that the voice that answered was her own. Or that the voice had said yes.

The answer had been barely a whisper, but Sanura had heard it as if it had been broadcast over the hotel's public address system. She stopped dancing in mid-step and took Taylor's hand.

"Follow me." Sanura said as she led the little devil off the dance floor.

As she stepped away from where they had been dancing, Taylor heard one of the women, a 40ish redhead in a nun's habit call after her.

"Go get her Honey." she said.

Still in a daze, Taylor wondered why she didn't feel the least bit embarrassed as she walked off the dance floor, every pair of eyes on her. Or so at least she imagined.

Taylor, still holding Sanura's hand, followed her out of the ballroom and into a small empty office. On the door hung a cardboard nameplate that read Sanura Jackson, Membership Committee.

Soon as the door closed behind them, Sanura turned and pushed Taylor against the wall. Then she threw her own body against Taylor's, their lips meeting in a violent collision. Taken by surprise, Taylor opened her mouth to protest, only to have it filled with Sanura's tongue. She could feel the blue-garbed woman's hands on her breasts, squeezing them and massaging her nipples.

"God, you are beautiful." Sanura said as she pressed their lips together once more.

"What am I doing?" Taylor's mind screamed. "What the hell am I doing?"

Sanura never gave her time to answer that question as she pulled open the top of Taylor's costume, causing her breasts to fall free. The ebony-skinned woman wasted no time in lifting a rounded globe in each hand and guiding them one at a time to her mouth.

Taylor gasped as she felt Sanura's lips close around her nipple. The sensation was more than electric, especially when the woman in blue went to work on the tiny tips with her tongue. No guy had ever felt this nice.

Back and forth Sanura moved, from breast to breast, leaving a wet trail as she moved her tongue and lips across Taylor's chest. It felt so good that Taylor was no longer wondering what she was doing. Right now all she wanted to do was go with the flow.

"Oh baby, you have such nice tits." Sanura said as she kissed them one last time.

Taylor was still backed against the wall as she felt the black girl's tongue again slide into her mouth. This time she eagerly sucked it deeply, giving as good as she got. Going with the flow, she reached out and pressed her hands against Sanura's breasts, feeling the fullness under her blouse.

Sanura reached down and undid what was left of the buttons on her shirt, releasing her own larger mounds. Her skin was a creamy mahogany, her nipples wide and dark. Breaking their kiss, she lifted her left breast to Taylor's mouth.

"Suck on this, sugar." Sanura said as she grabbed Taylor's head and pulled her mouth to her thick nipple.

Taylor never imagined that one day she'd be sucking on another woman's breast, but now that she was, she was determine to do her best. She knew how she liked her own nipples sucked and she used that as a guide. That and Sanura's encouragement were enough for her to do a pretty good job if it.

"Yeah baby, that's it." Sanura moaned as she ran her hand through Taylor's hair. "Use your teeth on it. Make it good and hard."

And hard they got as Taylor worked with abandon on the mixture of soft and hard flesh. Sanura grabbed her head and shifted her mouth to her other breast. This time Taylor improved on her technique. If nothing else, she had always been a fast learner.

Sanura pulled Taylor's face upward as they locked lips one last time in a deep hungry kiss. She wrapped her hands around Taylor's neck, pulling her close so that the tips of their breasts rubbed against each other.

"I have a surprise for you." Sanura said with a wicked grin.

From her uniform belt, the policewoman produced a small black plastic baton. It was an inch thick and ten inches long. She slid it between Taylor's legs and up against her wet cunt.

"Ooooo" Taylor purred as she felt the hard stick rub her clit.

"It gets better." Sanura laughed softly as she worked the tip of her baton up against the opening of Taylor's pussy.

"OOOOO" Taylor sighed even louder as it moved inside her.

"Like it, baby?" she asked as she eased it up inside of the devil.

Continuing to press her body against Taylor's, sharing the erotic charge passing through her, the darker woman began to slide the baton in and out of her like a cock.

"Tell me, baby," she said into her ear as she worked the truncheon in and out as fast as she could, continuing to kiss and massaged Taylor's body with her tongue and free hand as well. "Tell me how much you love, tell me how good it makes you feel!"

"Oh yes," Taylor panted. "Oh yes, I love it. I fucking love it. It feels so good, so good!"

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