Chapter 7

“Tim,” she said as the two sat at home sharing a glass of wine.

“Yes, Honey, what is it?”

“I ... you know how I’ve been telling you that somehow these trysts or rendezvous or whatever we want to call them somehow leave me empty?”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you somehow don’t seem truly satisfied.”

“I ... I think I’d like to stop the arrangement.”

“Really?” He replied leaning forward and giving her his full attention.

“It’s just that, as exciting as they are at the moment, as many times as I climax at the hands of these experienced lovers, I come away with ... with...”

“Wanting more?” He asked.

“Yes, that’s it. Something more ... different. Okay, let’s be honest, you can’t give what they can, but on the other hand they can’t give what you can.”

“So you really want to call it off?”

She nodded. “Yes, I really think I do. If I have to choose between love and sex, I want love, and that’s you.”

“But you’re a highly sexually charged woman, Miranda. That’s why we got in touch with Eric to start with.”

“I know, I know, but maybe I can learn to live with a bit less sex.”

“And a bit more love?” He asked.

“I want to try,” she offered.

The next few days were at once wonderful and dreadful for Miranda. She felt as if she and Tim had rediscovered each other, both paying more attention to the other, stopping to steal a kiss and share a laugh. On the downside however Miranda felt the desire begin to build and despite Tim’s efforts in the bedroom, she realized it was simply not enough to quell the fire that burned within her. She wondered if she had been rash in agreeing to cancel the agreement with Eric and his group. Once again, as before, she had the emotional affection she sought but without the physical intimacy she so badly needed and wanted.

“I got in touch with Eric. He’s canceling the agreement but with one condition.”

Again they sat in their living room. It had been a few days since their “talk” and Miranda was feeling the sexual pressure build day by day.

“Oh?” She asked, “and what might that be?”

“It seems that a member has already been contacted and made arrangements for your next adventure. The member is quite interested in meeting you. He requests that you follow through this one last time and the arrangement will be voided.”

“Do you think I should?” She asked.

“Well, you have to admit, they have lived up to their end of the bargain.”

“Yes, I guess that’s true. All right then, where and when?”

“Well, it seems there is to be a masked costume ball.”

Miranda handed her cape to the butler who then ushered her into the ballroom. The fabulously wealthy estate was isolated in the hills surrounding the city. The rooms were many, huge and luxurious, and that was only the first floor. Bedrooms too numerous to count made up most of the second floor where guests were invited to stay a week or an hour.

Miranda was more than a bit ill at ease. The mansion itself as well as the guests, all masked and dressed in the finest of costumes, was elegant and indicative of fabulous wealth. Miranda and Tim had a few friends who had done well in investments and such but no one who even approached the level of opulence she found herself amid here. Miranda was dressed in a skin tight sheath with matching spike heels. Her mask covered only her eyes but was adorned with faux jewels and glitter. Even among the glamour of women who had spent fifty times as much on their costumes, Miranda stood out and despite her diminutive stature heads turned as she entered the room.

Tim, dressed a bit more modestly but in full facial mask gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving her for the bar. A small string quartet played nearby.

An obviously older man approached, smiled and proceeded to try to convince her that things would be much more interesting upstairs but Miranda knew he was not the person she was looking for and politely dismissed him.

Miranda accepted a drink from one of two women who also eventually steered the conversation to the delights to be found upstairs, but she now had some experience with lesbians and Miranda was again sure these were not to be her sex mates for the evening.

As the evening wore on she was asked to dance by several men and two women and although she enjoyed their company, she regarded it as only temporary for Miranda was now experienced enough with Eric’s members to recognize when she was in the presence of a man or woman who was about to ravish her.

Tim drifted by but she reported that she had not yet made contact.

“When he does show up I think I’ll give the two of of some privacy,” he said.

“Why?” She asked. “I thought you had grown to like to watch.”

“Well, maybe this last time should be all about you.”

“As you wish,” she said and the two went in opposite directions, Tim striking up a conversation with an attractive black woman while Miranda was surrounded by several men and women who wanted a closer look at this new and beautiful attraction.

Finally freeing herself from the group of admirers and moving to the bar, she ordered as the musicians began a soft, slow romantic number.

“Might I have this dance?” Came a soft request from behind.

She turned to find a man dressed much as a swash buckling pirate, open white silk shirt, his muscular tanned chest exposed to the waist, the rest of the outfit black as was his mask.

Even though his face was largely covered, Miranda found in the man’s eyes a sensitivity absent from the paramours to whom she had grown accustomed. Yet the way he carried himself exuded a sexuality which she found fascinating. Was he or wasn’t he a member of Eric’s group? Whichever, she decided to know more about the man behind the mask.

“I’d be delighted,” she answered, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. She felt his strong arms pull her gently closer until her breasts were against him. She guessed his age as about the same as Tim, his build a bit more muscular but as they swayed to the soft romantic sounds and she felt his gentle, yet masculine touch, she truly wondered, for if this was a member of Eric’s group he was vastly different from any of those she had previously encountered.

“I’m Mark,” he whispered in her ear, “and right now the luckiest man in this room.”

“I’m Miranda,” she answered, “and just what makes you so lucky?” “Because I’m holding in my arms the most beautiful and sensuous woman I’ve ever met.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” She replied smiling.

“Why should I? The moment I laid eyes you I knew I had to meet you.”

“But you don’t know what lurks behind this mask,” she countered.

“I would be willing to bet my life that there is only one man in the world luckier than I.”

“Oh, and who might that be?”

“Your husband. I get to hold you for a few moments. He gets to go home with you tonight.”

“So you noticed the ring. My husband and I have an arrangement.”

“Oh?”

“He loves me very much.”

“I’m sure he does. I think any man who gets to know you would love you.”

“But my husband wants me happy ... whatever that entails.”

“So ... an open marriage?”

“You could call it that I suppose.”

“Does that mean I might be lucky enough to have more than a dance with you?”