Fragments Lesbos Fact and Fantasy
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Fragments Of Stardust free porn video
‘Hey, stranger.’
The voice, sharp and crisp as a shard of glass, cut through the air and was accompanied by a tap on his shoulder. Robin jolted, as if he had never felt a touch in so long, but was able to get enough of his composure together to turn around and face the voice.
Her mask was very pretty. Unlike his, which was sharp in shape and color and as blue as a robin’s egg, hers was a simple midnight blue with gold around the eyes. Beneath the mask was a small smile laced in burgundy lipstick, and within the holes of the mask, two shining olive eyes. Before he could even finish taking in the sight of her, her arm was already around his waist, leading him into the dance. Surprised at her sudden approach, he tried to adjust his stance to let her know he was game to dance.
She looked back at him and grinned. ‘Is this your first masquerade?’ she asked. ‘You seem so nervous.’
Robin smiled. ‘It’s been a few years, but I’d like to think I’ve still got it in me.’
‘I should hope!’ she replied. ‘I’ll need someone to keep up with me.’
The next song began, cueing the beginning of their dance, and he grabbed her hand and led her into it. It was a simple tune, a classic waltz song that could likely blend into the next, but was perfectly suitable for a nice sashay and twirl with a woman as intriguing as this one.
Perhaps this was what he needed. A bit of romanticism.
He tried not to think of her, the wife that was certainly not waiting for him back home, the broken hearts and listless fights. He closed his eyes and followed the movement of the song, and when that didn’t work, he placed his hand behind her back and dipped her down, smirking as she yelped before giving a short, chirping giggle.
‘You do still have it in you,’ she admitted. ‘You’re going to be a lot of fun.’
‘This dead old husk could use it,’ he replied, trying to disguise the hint of sadness in his voice.
She gave a quick glance around the ballroom and the scant few occupants it held, half of whom weren’t even dancing, simply observing from the sidelines or indulging on cheap wine. ‘I guess you and I are one of the few crazies who would think to go to a masquerade ball on a Tuesday night,’ she said before she spun into his chest.
Noticing her head by his, he mused quietly, ‘I could use a little bit of that.’
‘The craziness or the masquerade?’ she whispered.
‘Both.’
With that, he let her loose, and she pulled him in once again, on whatever adventure the night was going to bring with it. He couldn’t wait to see where it would go. Not even halfway through the first dance, he felt more romantic than he had in the past year.
He had no clue how he was supposed to feel about it.
———————————————————–
‘I’m an idiot.’
Jenna looked at herself in the rearview mirror of her car, all dolled up and as regal as a goddess, and realized that she was the woman she was, not the woman she was trying to be. She removed the mask that concealed her face and stared disgustedly in the mirror, her gaze her own silent critic.
Angrily, she threw the mask behind her, watching it bounce off the back seat and hit the floor. She found herself shimmying out of her dress, taking off her heels, and clambering into her day clothes, just a normal pair of pants and a black tank top. She undid her ponytail and shook all of the glitter out of her hair, leaving it a clean chestnut brown devoid of red and golden sparks. With every twist, squirm, and accidental pressing of the car horn, she felt the fairytale atmosphere of the night evaporate, leaving her falling on her ass back in reality.
She looked at herself, a frumpy, normal, unexceptional housewife already done in with marriage after four years and no children. So much for being an undying romantic.
She thought of how her husband would react if he found out about her misadventure, and slammed her forehead down on her steering wheel, letting the long, obnoxious horn of the Lexus vocalize her frustrations.
Finally, she sighed, knowing that everything was about to change.
————————————————————–
The dance ended, and it left Robin unsure of whether to dance again or study his newfound companion. She stood near him, back against the wall, arms crossed as she observed the scene. He stood in his suit, holding a glass of wine and taking what was decidedly more than a sip.
‘You want one?’ he asked, gesturing with his glass.
She smiled and shook her head. ‘I gotta drive so I’ll pass. Thanks, though.’
He nodded. ‘No problem.’
She inched closer until her hip was pressed against his. ‘Do you have any idea how much I love your mask?’
‘Thanks,’ he replied coolly, readjusting the lone feather back behind his ear before taking another drink.
‘I really do mean that,’ she insisted, reaching up to turn his face towards her as she observed his mask. In that moment, he smelled something. Something familiar, something that had edged himself into his psyche, but something long lost. It was a scent that only a human could carry, but it was there and it was gone.
He blinked, trying to regain his focus, only to hear that she was already talking. ‘Not many men I know would go with such a bold color. They’re usually the ones with the subtle colors and the minimalism. You, you’ve got panache. You’ve got style. I like that.’
‘I’m flattered,’ he nods, finishing his drink and trying to return to the real world. He realized the predicament he was in with this woman and realized he hadn’t flirted with anyone for years. There was no need, until now. He sighed at himself but put on a smile as he said, ‘I do like your mask, I must say. It fits you. Very subtle and classy.’
‘Thanks,’ she responded. ‘I tried to do a good job at my whole getup. It’s fascinating being someone else, and I wanted to be someone tonight that I will never be again.’
‘You really get into it.’
She leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘It’s a nice escape.’
He nodded, his chin scraping against the side of her head. A pinch of golden glitter got caught into his beard. ‘So who are you tonight?’
‘Luna,’ she responded simply. ‘And you are?’
‘Robin,’ he replied. ‘Hence the feather.’
She laughed quietly. ‘Nice touch, Robin.’
‘As is the stardust in your hair,’ he replied, ‘as well as in my beard.’
She laughed again. ‘I really try and go all-out. At least, in some ways. When I started out I was super garish and over-the-top. I was Liberace plus Mardi Gras times Lisa Frank, you know. Bright wig, rainbow dress, mask reaching higher than my arms could.’
‘Sounds like quite a sight,’ he admitted.
‘It was!’ she confessed. ‘But eventually you learn when to quit. A mask is nice and all, but if you put too much on somehow it turns around and everyone can see through it.’
He nodded thoughtfully, but before he had time to dwell on it, Luna had already begun to pull him onto the dance floor once more. ‘I heard Queen,’ she explained excitedly. ‘Come on, we gotta go.’
Robin’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh man,’ he voiced out loud. ‘Queen. Brings me straight back to high school.’
‘Oh come on,’ she retorted, squeezing his hand. ‘There’s no way you can possibly be anything younger than 30.’
‘I took drama, remember?’ he laughed as she came to a stop suddenly. For a moment, he realized that he never mentioned drama class to her. Had it really been that long since he had met someone new?
The wine kicked in, and it swept all of his troubles away and convinced him to dance. He tripped a bit as he followed her, but she eased him into the dance with a smile. She was a good guide, clearly an experienced dancer, far better than him relying on his moves from his high school days.
She looked back at him and smiled. He smiled
back. He loved the way he was feeling tonight.
————————-
There was something about a masquerade that appealed to him. Perhaps it was the mystery of it all. Perhaps it was the fact that concealing your face meant concealing your identity, your past, your pain, your sins, and anything that could incriminate you. Perhaps it was because it contained the fantastic, romantic aspect that he craved from his life, one that had been gone for so long, one that he’d have sold his soul for the return of, one that he’d be damned if he didn’t get. He was never good at knowing how to love, but he was going to try again.
—————————
‘That song is beautiful,’ he mused.
‘Oh, god. Agreed,’ she responded, deciding to grab a drink after all. ‘Chills, Robin. Every time. From the first time I heard it. It just… rings true. Just the title is enough to get me going.’
‘With or Without You,’ he repeated. ‘No kidding.’
‘I know! The title says more words than I could explain. It’s crazy how romance can really do that to a person, isn’t it? I could just go on and on about it.’
For another flash of a moment, he thought about his wife back home, and he shuddered.
‘Exactly!’ She noticed him shake. ‘What’d I tell you? This song, just… chills. I mean, I about damn near started crying until I realized what that’d do to my makeup,’ she added, ending her sentence with another laugh.
‘It’s a very big song,’ he agreed. ‘It’s one of the songs where I don’t feel wise enough to discuss the meaning. So instead,’ he continued, feeling a certain spirit in his veins, ‘I am going to dance to it with you instead of standing here without you.’
‘Clever,’ she replied, ‘but I’m still drinking.’
‘Down it,’ he insisted. ‘They aren’t even into the first chorus yet. I promise I’ll make it worth it.’
‘We’re both two glasses down,’ she added, letting the glass fall onto the floor before twirling into his arms without missing a step like the perfect dance partner she was. ‘You better make this a fucking night to remember.’
As he took to the motions once more, he realized that he had every intent to make this unforgettable for both him and this perfect woman, this perfect stranger. As he danced through the night, he forgot the person who he was and the skeletons in his closet, and fell into the person he was trying to be.
——————————————-
Turning the GPS on to find the fastest way to 15th Avenue, she began the trip back home, a short trip drawn out by her struggles with guilt.
As she drove home, she contemplated what she would do with her dress. Burn it? Not likely. Throw it out along the road? That’d just worry people. Find a dumpster? No, that’d also worry people. And how would she manage to hide the hundred dollars off her credit card she spent on a new getup, the makeup, the masquerade mask, and her gold-colored scarf (the latter of which she completely planned to keep)? Would she be able to brush out the glitter in the car that she had just brushed out of her hair? It looked like the death of a galaxy in the car.
Halfway through trying to plot an escape route for her incriminating evidence, she let go of the idea and thought back to the night… the dance, the bridge, the stranger, the masks… that thrilling spark in her chest that she hadn’t felt in so long, craved so desperately, never thought she’d find again… damn it, she wanted him. There was no two ways about it.
It was only a kiss, but it was really so much more. It was the pebble that felled a hollowed wall.
‘Jesus Christ,’ she vented, slamming her fist on the rim of her steering wheel. As Lloyd Boulevard shifted into Fifteenth Avenue, she realized she was just over a mile away from home, maybe two miles. She knew what she had promised the man on the bridge, and she knew she’d have to confess. Just get it over with.
She wondered if he noticed her ring yet. She had left it on her nightstand, angry enough to show him what she thought of him. On her way out she hoped it would sting and that he’d finally get the picture, but now the idea left a pit in her stomach. As if she hadn’t taken things far enough already, that was just a spiteful cherry on top of the shit sundae that their marriage had become.
Would he hate her? He had every right to. He had a habit of disguising his true anger, with a cracked smile or tight-lipped look of forced apathy. He held in so much, tried to be so much more than he was, even though the truth was that he was a young man with his head in the clouds who wanted to do everything and took any slight to heart to the point where he never stopped bleeding. He wanted to make his parents proud and last forever. She wanted to act on impulse and get married less than a year into their relationship. Time and reality would blindside both of them, and it stung.
Had you asked Jenna Kirk if she would have even attempted to cheat on her spouse five years ago, she would have rejected the idea and be shocked that it was even brought up. It was scandalous, loveless, selfish, reckless, and exactly what she ended up doing tonight. Before tonight, she felt as though there was no love left in the world, and now there was too much of it for her to handle, yet she still felt that it was only a shallow thrill she didn’t deserve.
How did others do it? Staying impassioned with each other after 40, 50, even 60 years, whereas they had gotten to a state in less than five years where they barely noticed each other. In between passive-aggressive fights and grudges were little more than silence and formalities. Somehow she expected their inevitable split to be accented by little more than knowing nods and signed papers. There wasn’t even enough passion to fight over a divorce.
Goddamn, she hated being the tragic figure of romance. She thought she was going to be the queen who lived happily ever after. How did they skip over that straight to The End?
——————————————-
‘What a buzzkill!’
Luna’s cheerful laughter contrasted her indignant stomp and crossed arms. Her black dress clung to her form as she walked out into the wind, Robin keeping up with her.
‘I can’t believe these numbnuts!’ Her rant was broken up by helpless laughter fueled by alcohol. ‘I mean, the way the mood shifted when they turned on that song. It’s like they never tried to run a masquerade before!’
He grinned as they strode down Water Avenue. ‘Avicii,’ he said. ‘They turned on Avicii.’
‘I know! Pop music is the masquerade’s boner-killer. It sucks you right back into the real world, and the real you, and I totally don’t think that’s what it’s about. You could already see people taking off their masks and checking their cellphones, right? It really just sucks out all the magic.’
‘Amen.’
With that, they decided they were done on the matter. As they walked along Water, he felt the chill that came from both the air of the late evening and the industrial zone the ballroom was in. He covered the distance between them and wrapped his arm around her waist. She hummed, content.
‘The architecture is lovely around here,’ he noted.
‘Seriously? It’s twenty fucking degrees out, we’re both still in complete masquerade garb and the thing that makes you slide right up to me like some smooth criminal is a conversation about the architecture?’
He laughed, loosening his hold on her. Immediately, she responded with an agitated ‘hey, get back here!’ before launching herself back into his arms with a crooked grin. He raised his eyebrow, short on a response.
‘Architecture. You were saying?’
He was more than happy to oblige. ‘These buildings. I’ve worked on a few of them.’ He hadn’t, but he’d like to imagine Robin would. He relied on a dropped college course in architecture as he continued. ‘Portland has a thing where they’ll add new streetcars and whatnot in t
he city where they really don’t belong, and when that happens they need to make these old warehouses no socialite cares about into something worth caring about.’
She took a sweeping glance around the avenue and said ‘so they look the same on the outside but they have all new things inside of them, right? You know what they need more of?’ Before he could respond, she continued. ‘Buildings that look nice on the outside, ones that would get pictures taken of them and put on calendars, one that would raise real estate prices, but you look inside and it’s just the same old empty warehouse.’
Robin shook his head. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s been tried before, but, honestly, the world has enough of that already.’
She shuddered briefly, the same way Robin did when he thought about his wife. ‘No joke,’ she agreed before letting him go and taking some distance. He watched with concern as she walked across from him, but thought it best not to press the issue. It would take away from the wonder that Luna held.
He observed her as she walked. The wind blew her ponytail in the breeze, glitter flying off the back and behind the both of them, leaving a thin gold-and-red smoke trail. Also flowing in the wind was a lovely gold scarf, tied around her neck and flapping behind her like a flag. Her steps were nearly stomps, but she was able to balance in her heels. In sharp contrast to her earlier snarky cheer, the Luna that didn’t notice others looking was one who fidgeted a lot, ran her hands through her hair, looked around her a lot at nothing in particular, and occasionally would let out a heavy sigh.
He walked towards her, concerned. When she noticed him, she smiled again and grabbed his hand, guiding him towards the stairs that led to the Hawthorne Bridge.
Before long, they were on the bridge deck, cars passing by them and rocking the deck. Robin was always unsettled by how much the bridge shook underfoot every time he crossed it. He squeezed her hand as she led him directly into the center, where they could gaze at the Willamette River illuminated by the city lights.
‘Beautiful,’ she mused. He nodded in agreement.
She let go of his hand and ran hers through her ponytail, a few specks of glitter flowing lazily through the air. Robin took a sideways look at her, fascinated simply by the way she moved. There was something about her that needed no words to establish her radiance, but her words elevated her into being unforgettable.
Almost out of need, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her as close as he could manage. She gave him a knowing smile and reciprocated, standing against the railing of the bridge in front of him. The lights reflected off of the river and back onto her, tracing her smile like the golden lines of her mask.
‘How much do you trust me, Robin?’ she asked.
He didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to. He barely knew how much he could trust himself.
‘I want to close our eyes,’ she explained, suddenly breathless, ‘and take off our masks. I promise I won’t look, I wouldn’t do that to you, because I don’t want you to do that to me. Just trust me, hon. I promise you won’t regret it.’
He nodded slowly, barely thinking through the consequences.
‘Close your eyes,’ she instructed him, and he obeyed. After a few seconds, she said, ‘go ahead.’ Slowly, hesitantly, he removed his mask, and put it in his hands. After a few moments, she simply said, ‘done.’
‘Now what?’ he asked.
Her response was to kiss him.
Once again caught off guard, it took him a moment to reciprocate, but when he had gotten into the swing of it, he was more than ready. Desire took over, and his shy cooperation gave way to hunger. The soft beginnings became stronger, more strident, more passionate. They pressed against the railing, arms gripped around each other as they took more from each other in exchange for more from themselves. He could feel the shape of her mask press against his back, and he barely felt himself grip onto his. This feeling was fresh, it was renewed, it was beautiful, it was what he had been desperately craving for so long. Their faces pressed against each other like two young lovers who had just discovered the power of affection and desire. He felt like a new person. He felt a need to never let go, even if it cost him his final breath. All of the passionate romantic feelings that he never thought he would ever be privy to again returned and he couldn’t get enough of it.
Grace
- 19.07.2020
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