Standing in front of the chaise lounge, Mlle Daae frantically pulled at the buttons on her husband's shirt as his tougue slipped past her lips. She untucked the shirt before running her hands over the firm bulge in his trousers. The Phantom groaned digging his nails into her soft bum. However as she fumbled with the buttons on the trousers' opening; he pulled away.

"Let me," He pushed his suspenders off his shoulders so his pants were no longer so taut. Calmly and collected he undid each of the trousers' buttons. He then pulled his erection through the gussets of his drawers and pants.

Christine put both her hands on the organ, feeling its pulsing heat and the dampness of the tip due to Cowper's fluid. Though she smiled her cheeks burned as red as his member.

"Oh I love how you still play coy, Angel," Erik lifted his hand and ran his finger through her hair.

Raoul de Chagny looked at the floor on his hands and knees. He finally looked back up at the piles of flowers before looking over at the door. Oh Christine! How are you doing this? How are you letting him do that to do? There has to be a reason…he's still controlling you! Softly he crawled back to the door pushing his eye back to the keyhole.

"I am not playing coy. Cannot I still be excited yet anxious about coupling with you?"

"Your Erik does not scare you still, does he?"

Christine smirked as her fingers wrapped around his member and gently rubbed it back and forth, "Why don't you try and find out?"

Raoul could not remove his eye from The Phantom's member. Is it really that large? Or are Christine's hands that small? I've never noticed before. I don't think they are that small… My sweet Little Lotte would never touch that revolting thing of her free will.

Christine's corset fell to the floor with a soft thud as her chemise billowed through the air landing beside it.

The Opera Ghost pushed Christine to her knees, the top half of her body bend forward over the chaise lounge. Kneeling behind her, he shoved her petticoat up over her waist again. Grabbing the base of his cock's shaft, he rubbed the tip against the folds of her womanhood.

"There is no one here to save you, Christine," He leaned over and whispered into her ear.

I am here to save you! Do anything, Lotte, say anything and I will break down this door!

"Why would I need saving from an Angel?"

Erik gently guided his cock into her wet cunt. She gasped as he groaned. He was still behind her for a few seconds as Christine raised her backside higher while spreading her legs a bit wider.

"Oh Erik is not worthy of his Angel," Yet still he started to push.

Please scream stop or help or something, Christine! You cannot find pleasure with this…this thing! The metal of the keyhole carved into the flesh around Raoul's eye as he pressed himself flatter to the door.

He could no longer see The Phantom's hideous face, but he was faced with a new horror. The Opera Ghost's thrusts were slow and methodical and Raoul was able to see manhood glistened with Christine's juices with each withdrawal. She whimpered each time she fully engulfed him again. Long fingers found the sensitive bud at the front of her woman hood.

"Oh Erik…Erik!" She cried as he rubbed that bud as he increased the speed and enthusiasm of his thrusts.

The Vicomte caught himself panting as he rubbed the growing bulge in his slacks. God cursed his face but endowed him in many other ways to compensate…first music and now…The Little Whore!

Hit by a revelation, he frantically crawled away from the keyhole towards the end of the hallway. A fit of sobs convulsed over his body.

"She was enjoying it!" The Vicomte whispered wiping the tears from his cheeks, only for more to come. "She…she was fornicating with that…that…"

Laughter and conversation came down one of the adjacent hallways.

"Hold on, just a minute… Raoul, what the Devil?" Phillipe walked up to his brother La Sorelli now on his arm. "Why are you sitting on the floor?"

The younger man got up and brushed off his tux, looking away from the small group of people.

"Have you been crying, brother?"

Raoul closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain his dignity, "You were right, Phillipe! She's…she's A Little Tart! Leading me on when she's in there with some other man! Not just any man, her teacher!"

"Christine Daae?" La Sorelli raised an eyebrow. "She's in there with her teacher, 'The Angel of Music?'" The dancer laughed.

The rest of the crowd followed in laughing.

"I know what I saw!" Raoul snapped.

The dancer pushed her upper body into Phillipe, "Comte, did you know your little brother is a peeper? Am I going to have to tell Mlle Daae to block her keyhole?"

Comte de Chagny seized the opportunity in front of him. "I need a moment with my brother." He kissed La Sorelli's cheek before letting go of her arm.

He grabbed Raoul's arm and pulled him back down the dimly light hallway, closer to Christine's dressing room. "You are causing a scene and are embarrassing the de Chagny name so stop it right this instance!" Phillipe's tone was a whisper but it sounded more like an angry snap. "I told you she was an opera tart, they are all tarts! They are for enjoyment! I have a gay time with La Sorelli; but she is pleasure only. They are not courting or marriage material. I know you were friends with this Mlle Daae when you children, but that was a different time. I don't condone what you were doing, but maybe whatever you saw broke you of whatever grand delusion you had of her."

He removed his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Raoul, "Wipe your face."

The Vicomte silently nodded and obeyed just as he did all those years living with his aunt. When he went to hand the cloth back to his brother Phillipe waved his hand. Raoul sighed and tucked it into his own pocked.

Comte's round face smiled as he wrapped his arm around his little brother and walked him back to the group, "Come brother, no need to let one woman who doesn't desire you get you down! I am sure this lovely lady here knows a couple who might find you charming."

La Sorelli smiled as she hooked her other arm with Raoul's "Oh yes, Vicomte, come supper is waiting along with some lovely friends."

As they walked away The Vicomte looked over his shoulder at the dressing room door. Oh how he loved that Soprano and would be back demanding answers and believing her lies after the next performance.