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Her throat felt dry. She could feel the eyes of the man behind her burning into her back. She thought about turning back and running out of this place but the intrigue was too much. “Your card?” the man in front of her asked. She nodded and the man studied her again. Silence lingered between them. The man rolled the card between his fingers for a couple of seconds and studied it again. “It’s not. You lie,” he said quietly. “What?” Abby said quickly. “I said ‘it’s hot. For July.” Abby swallowed even though her throat Brunette was dry. She said nothing. The man looked at teen her for a time and then he placed the card under the desk into a machine out of view and he looked down and Abby guessed he was looking at a monitor. Time seemed suspended and it felt like an age before he looked back at her. In that time all she could hear was the thudding of her heart and a voice in her head telling her to run. When the beat finally landed he reached down behind the desk and handed her the card and then he pulled out a mask. She took the items with shaking hands and he told her of the mask that she would need it. It was a Venetian design, deep gold, with an intricate pattern that extended beyond the border of the face. She put it on shakily and then the man looked at her again. “Ah,” he said. And then he escorted Abby through a pair of large wooden doors. The man in the dark livery and the plain grey mask closed the door behind her and Abby entered into a dark, dimly lit ballroom that must have been an easy 120-foot high with a large ceiling and dark hanging black silk drapes. A gathering of some amateur a hundred and fifty people all dressed in ecclesiastical costume and party dresses and tuxedos, and all sporting an array of animal heads and odd and sometimes macabre Venetian and Surrealist masks moved around and talked amongst themselves. The conversation was light and easy; people spoke of holidays and the weather and current affairs. Abby overheard a conversation by a small group about the pros and cons of a “hard Brexit.” “She needs to choose,” one of the men said. “The idea of a “soft Brexit,” a deal to minimise damage to the economy by maintaining some regulatory alignment with E.U economies or a “hard Brexit,” where indian she grows some fucking balls and goes for a much cleaner break.” Waiters moved through the gaps in the crowds with trays of drinks and canapés. A man with an expensive dinner jacket and a giraffe’s head played Rachmaninoff on a piano in the corner, but the giraffe’s eyes were blindfolded and the man underneath was playing from feel and not from sight, and the soft and resonant tones filtered through the room. Abby composed herself and then she started to move around the side of the room—observing. A man with a mask of cubes all with different faces who was stood with a lady in a short black dress and a golden face laughed as they spoke with a man with an Ox’s head and then they clocked Abby in the corner and she thought they stopped talking. She jumped as a waiter appeared next to her and handed her a drink and she said a quiet thank you as she took the glass. Abby took a deep breath and then took a drink and felt herself relax just a little as the warmth of the liquid spread out into her oesophagus. She gained some composure and she breathed out. She was here for a good time and she started to sway a little to the music. In the opposite corner three men and two women looked at her pointedly webcam and then spoke amongst themselves in hushed whisper. From the side of her a woman with an Apple in front of her face brushed passed her and nodded a greeting and looked deep into her eyes but said nothing before disappearing into the crowd. Behind her in a chair by a table with a flickering light and masked in darkness a man cleared his throat and Abby turned to him. I knocked. I had not wanted amateur to fantasise about my sister. Brunette “Are you sure you webcam want to share this with me, sis? What a thrill it would be to use the sword to take revenge. Ah. Obviously. Deana opened her door and said, "Deal." Max slumped in his chair and considered the evening to come. After a while I finally heard her drain the water. I grab your waistband and quickly yank your pants down making you gasp. I wanted control indian at that point, and took my saliva dripping cock and aimed it teen directly at her dainty lips in time for the second eruption to blast itself on her lips and chin.