The Dark Shadow of Desire

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Hidden in the depth of your lust, you will find your own dark shadow of desire. My therapist asked me to write out my confession, read it to myself, seal it in an envelope and burn it. My name is Derek and this is my confession.  It was last Friday night. I had arranged for a limousine to take my fiancée and I to the formal ball that begins the Arts Centre’s new exhibition season. The tickets were very expensive but I knew that my fiancée loved elite social affairs and the art shows so I wanted to provide her with a wonderful time. I wore a black, classic tuxedo with a red bow tie.  I rang her doorbell and, as usual, it took Tiffany several minutes to come to the door. “You have a key, silly,” she said, opening the door to let me in. She stood inside the doorway with her back to me, looking back over her left shoulder, holding the tiny strands together at the neck that held the hooks to her backless dress. “Would you please hook this?” she asked in a frustrated voice, “I can’t seem to line it up.” I connected the tiny hooks and Tiffany spun around playfully, her eyes beaming and smiling at me as she asked, “How do I look?” I could hardly speak. She looked so stunningly beautiful and glamorous. Her long, slightly curly, sandy blonde hair was styled to one side; her make up was perfect. She wore long, hanging diamond earrings on tiny, single, white gold chains and a red sequin dress. Of course, it was backless, hooked behind the neck and open almost to her ass. In the front, it scooped very low between her perky breasts, almost to her navel. The dress hugged her perfectly shaped, tight body almost like a glove. The dress was short but not ultra short, showing off her sexy long legs in a pair of natural colored stockings, displayed on a pair of high-heeled, red, patent leather pumps. Her right wrist was adorned with several silvery bangles and, of course, her left hand displayed the diamond engagement ring I had gone into great debt to purchase. “Well?” she asked, shrugging expressively, her eyebrows raised, both hands flattened out with her arms bent at the elbows. “Stunning!” I said, “Absolutely, amazingly gorgeous.” “Thanks!” she quipped in a happy satisfied tone. She spun on the balls of her shoes and walked across the room to where her wrap for the evening lay draped over the edge of the sofa. “Could you help me with my wrap, kind sir?” she asked playfully. “Of course,” I answered and quickly walked over and placed it around her sexy, exposed shoulders. “You look stunning, yourself,” she said, smiling sweetly. We walked outside and Tiffany saw the uniformed limousine driver holding the passenger door open for us. “Oh, my God; you sprang for a limo!” she exclaimed. “The best for my lady,” I answered, We were both already slightly buzzed from drinking champagne in the limousine by the time we reached the gala. The large, historic art deco factory building loomed before us. It had been fabulously refitted and was now the immaculate Arts Centre for the city. A huge, open room where factory equipment was once housed was now almanbahis şikayet a grand ballroom and, in almost every direction and on several floors, there were hallways leading to dozens of art exhibit rooms and art studios. Techno dance music thumped loudly and many patrons were already dancing as we entered the main room. All around us, people were dressed fabulously. Formally dressed servers with trays of champagne and caviar darted in and out of the large crowd of attendees. Most of the finest and wealthiest people in the city were there. Not all were among the finest, though. The ball the year before had featured an orchestra playing waltzes and the exhibit had revolved around a rococo art theme. This year was very different, with the theme being erotica, and I was quite curious as to what art would amuse us all that evening. Tiffany and I had just begun to sip more champagne when out of the crowd appeared Leone and Tamango. I hoped they did not see us, but Tiffany’s bopping to the music in her heels soon caught their eye. The two of them quickly weaved through the crowd until they were upon us. Leone was an Italian guy, originally from New Jersey, and owned a night club that was a favorite with the city’s young jet set. He was always way too tan, obviously spending much of his time in tanning beds. He was dressed just as hideously as I could have expected. His gold tuxedo jacket fit him very tightly over a shiny, gold shirt and shiny, maroon bow tie with gold polka dots. His dark hair was long and pulled back into a pony tail. Dangling earrings, which seemed quite strange for a man to wear, adorned both his ears. Tamango, a Jamaican avant garde artist, seemed to always accompany Leone. Tamango was quite a fixture at Leone’s nightclub which featured much of his art work as decorations. Tamango was tall, dark, and though he claimed to be Rastafarian, I had never seen him wearing dreadlocks, just long braids. He wore a much more conventional tuxedo though his shirt was a very shiny, silky material with a frilly weave pattern.  Both were well acquainted with Tiffany and I, but I had always had an apprehensive feeling about them. Both of them were always too flirtatious with Tiffany and annoyed me by touching her arms and back when speaking to her. Furthermore, I had heard many rumors about their bawdy sexual activities with countless numbers of gorgeous women. “Tiffany! Derek!” exclaimed Leone in a friendly voice as he squeezed between two patrons and walked up to us. “Hello!” squealed Tiffany as Leone offered her a quick peck on the cheek and slight hug, immediately followed by Tamango doing the same. They both then shook hands and acknowledged me standing next to Tiffany. “How are you guys?” she asked. “Extremely well,” offered Tamango in his Jamaican accent. “Where are your dates?” Tiffany queried. “No dates tonight,” answered Leone. “Too many fine ladies available,“ Tamango interjected, “We thought we’d try our luck.” Tiffany giggled and said, “You won’t have a problem finding someone, I’m sure” I really almanbahis canlı casino wanted to pull Tiffany away from those two sleazy guys and look for other friends to mingle with, and to check out the art exhibits. She, though, seemed quite content spending time talking to Leone and Tamango. Tiffany had soon finished off her champagne and asked me to get her some more. As I started to leave to find a server, both Leone and Tamango asked if I could get them a glass of champagne also. I was quite annoyed at that but made off through the crowd to find either a server or a bartender. In just a few minutes, I was weaving though the crowd holding four champagne glasses awkwardly above my head to avoid someone jostling them and returned to the place we had been standing; I could not see them. As I perused the crowd, I finally saw them standing over by the wall viewing a large, impressionistic-style oil painting of a woman being sexually ravished by two men. Soon, I had made my way up to them without having spilled much of the champagne and distributed the glasses amongst them. We were soon making our way along the wall, viewing the various erotic paintings. I found myself very uncomfortable hearing Leone and Tamango discussing the sexual nature of the paintings with Tiffany. We stood in front of an enormous painting of intercourse and listened to Tamango say, “Look at how the penis enters the rosy, aroused labia.” I was not feeling very comfortable with the situation.  As we continued viewing the paintings, Tiffany persisted in rocking her body to the thump of the loud music. She loved to dance and I was not much of a dancer so when Leone turned to me and asked if it would be okay for him to dance with Tiffany, I did not want to upset her by saying no.  Before I could even answer, Tiffany interjected, “Since you aren’t into this techno dancing, Derek, why don’t you find the mayor or business friends and do some networking while I have a few dances with Leone and Tamango?” “Okay, I’ll do that for a while and you can get in a few dances,” I hesitantly answered. I did feel quite uncomfortable with the situation but I really did need to kiss up to the mayor because of an ongoing business deal needing the city’s approval.After spending more time socializing than I wanted to with the mayor, city dignitaries, and business leaders; I wandered back over to the dance floor area. I finally saw both Leone and Tamango dancing with Tiffany. They were taking turns spinning her and doing some sandwich grind dancing on her. Tiffany seemed very much into it, which made my face flush, but an even more bizarre feeling of arousal built within. I watched them dance for a minute or two; then I stepped in and grabbed Tiffany by the hand. “I’m cutting in,” I said and pulled her away to dance the next song with me.  No objection was raised from Leone and Tamango, but Tiffany did turn and say something in French to which Tamango responded in French. I was not pleased with that, especially not having a clue what they had said. After one almanbahis casino dance, I took Tiffany by the hand and led her from the dance floor. “Let’s go check out some of the exhibits,” I said. “Okay,” answered Tiffany, obviously well buzzed from the champagne. I led her down one of the many corridors, all of the walls decorated with erotic paintings and sketches of all sizes. We came to a room and I led Tiffany inside. Erotic ceramic art was displayed throughout this room. There were chairs surrounding a coffee table which was adorned with a large ceramic penis.  “Let’s take a load off,” I said and sat down, Tiffany sitting next to me. Tiffany told me that she wanted some more champagne. Just then, I saw a server near the doorway so I jumped up to get her attention and almost stumbled over a large ceramic vagina on the floor in the process. I did, however, retrieve us a couple of glasses of champagne. Just as I sat down, to my great disappointment, Leone and Tamango appeared at the door. “I can’t believe you guys are in here,” yelled Tamango as they came bounding through the door in a fervent display of excitement. I had so hoped to have Tiffany alone to view all of the erotic displays, anticipating that it would get her in the mood for some torrid sex once we got back to her place later that night. I was distinctly disappointed at Leone and Tamango’s arrival. They sat just across the coffee table from us and immediately began to laugh and comment about the big ceramic penis on the table. Tiffany was joining in on the hilarity and reached over to erotically stroke the erect piece of art, causing Leone and Tamango to laugh and flirt even more. Under the influence of the champagne, Tiffany was putting on quite a display. In fact, I was sure that she was crossing her legs a lot as if attempting to subtly tease the two of them with up-skirt peeks. I did not want to leave her alone with them but my bladder had filled to capacity and I was overcome with the urge to relieve myself.  “I’m going to the men’s room and I’ll be right back,” I said as I stood up. “Oh, Sweetie! Could you please bring me some more champagne when you come back?” Tiffany asked. Right away, she was joined by Leone and Tamango asking for me to bring them back champagne also. I just nodded my head and hurried out the door. I really needed the relief and wanted to get back to keep an eye on things. After my visit to the men’s room and collecting the champagne, I rushed back, only to discover they were not in the room. My stress elevated immensely. I walked back out into the hallway, giving descriptions of the three of them and asking if anyone had seen them. One guy pointed toward the back end of the hall. I hurried down the hall as fast as I could walk, still balancing all those filled champagne glasses. I looked in all of the rooms, which were occupied with partiers viewing the erotic art exhibits, but I did not see Tiffany, Leone or Tamango anywhere. I finally had arrived at the end of the hall where there were two large double doors that led to an area where art studios and classrooms were. I pushed the doors open with my back, still holding the glasses, and proceeded down the darkened hallway until I heard voices.I then slipped into the room quietly; still carrying all those silly champagne glasses.

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