This is my first attempt at Kinktober! Day one and the prompt I've chosen is 'Masks'. All characters are aged up from the anime.

"I can't believe she's dragged us to this thing," Ash stirred his drink miserably and looked out over the ballroom. Everyone around them was dressed in lace and frilly shirts and, what was worse, he was pretty sure his shirt was amongst the frilliest.

"It's traditional!" Brock beamed at him, "And it's so romantic, isn't it? A masquerade ball-" he caught Ash's furious gaze, "Okay, but it's hot, right? Don't you love the idea of banging some chick in a mask?"

Ash shook his head and backed away slowly, throwing his friend a disgusted look before Brock turned away, presumably to find his first victim. Ash drained his drink.

"Better slow down, I'm not carrying you home." He swung around at the familiar voice.

"You owe me for- Oh!" He stopped, tongue limp in his mouth at the sight of her. Her costume was less ostentatious than some of the others in the room, less lace and layers than the more traditional dresses. But it dropped low on her breasts, nipped in at the waist, and feathered down around her ankles. Tearing his eyes from her cleavage, Ash did a double take at her feet.

"Mist… where are your shoes?"

"My feet hurt," she said simply, "Then some guy trod on my toes on the dance floor."

It was a miserable sight, her clutching her shoes in one hand and wiping her face with the other. Behind them, one of the local women would point and whisper behind her hands until Ash glared at them. Misty bit her lip and shifted from foot to foot, waiting. He knew his best friend well enough to know that she would never admit she was wrong about anything; if they were escaping any time soon he'd have to rise above the desire to gloat.

Ash cocked his head to one side, "Wanna get out of here?" he held his arm out to her, "If we go down the lawn we can avoid the gravel driveway. So long as you trust me to protect you in the woods after dark."

Misty took his offered elbow gratefully and, to his shock, stretched up to kiss him on the cheek, "My hero," she teased. Ash waved at Brock on the way, who he knew would join them much, much later, and pulled her out on the the veranda and down the steps to the garden. They were staying a short distance away through the woods, further if they went through the town, but he had a belt of Pokeballs and the night was quiet. The woods it would be. They walked in silence for a long while, one of the things he'd come to love about growing up with someone was that every moment didn't need to be pierced with small talk, until they came to a clearing in the woods. The trees were thinner, light shining down from the full moon, and he felt her hang back slightly, a gentle pull on his elbow. Dropping her arm, he turned to face he and tilted his head expectantly.

"It seemed like such a romantic idea," she said eventually, "You know? We never get to see much of the places we see when we travel. I just wanted to try something new. But I guess I felt like even more of an outsider in there. Everyone was so stunning."

There was something in her voice that sounded sadder than her words and he looked down at her. Her mask covered a lot of her face but he thought he could see her forehead pucker as she frowned and her eyes shone in the moonlight. In the silence of the clearing it seemed obscene to raise his voice, so he stepped closer and lowered his lips to her ear.

"You look beautiful tonight, Mist," he murmured.

"You're just saying that because most of my face is covered," she laughed quietly, sadly. Ash frowned at her, reached up to cup her face. Their teen years had been kind to the both of them; he now stood a clear head above her and she… his mother had once referred to her as having 'grown in to her body.' Her lips were full and parted, shining slightly in the moonlight where she had licked them, her skin glowed pale in the darkness. He had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. To run his lips along the exposed skin below her mask and capture her lips with his own. The cut of her dress left her neck uncovered, her collarbones ready to receive soft kisses, her shoulders free for the taking. He'd never considered what he found most attractive in a woman, but right now he would swear it was lips and the silk skin stretched over a bare neck.

"No," he whispered, "I mean it."

He kissed her gently, felt her gasp against his lips then yield to him. With nervous hesitation, he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her tight to him. Their masks bumped as he reached up to cup the back of her head and pull her closer to him. They sank down together, knees hitting the mossy floor, then fell on one another.

On the ground, he climbed on top of her, legs entangled in her skirt. She was pure willingness in his arms and when he reached up to tip her chin back she arched in to him, moaning when he pressed his face in to the soft skin of her neck. He kissed her, nipped her with his teeth and reached up to run his thumb along the rim of her mask.

"Want me to take it off?" she breathed, reaching up to press his hand closer against her cheek. Shaking his head, he kissed her again, parted her lips to plunge his tongue within. With his free hand he tugged at the laces on her bodice and felt her hands join him, making quick work of the ties and pushing the layers of fabric away. He curled his body over her to reach her exposed breasts, took a nipple in his mouth and teased the other with his fingers. Her back arched against him, one leg broke free from the trappings of her skirt to curl around him. Seeking permission in her eyes, he ran his hand down her newly bared legs and toyed with the hem of her underwear and waited, breath held, for her to give him a sign to continue.

"Told you masks were hot!"

Their yelps of horror split the silence. Brock leant against a tree behind them, a half finished drink in his hand and a grin on his face. He held a torch loosely in his hand and to Ash's eternal gratitude he had not shone it on them. Underneath him, Misty scrabbled to cover her bare chest and Ash pulled off his jacket to wrap around her, hoisted them both to their feet. Without meeting his eye she pulled the rough fabric around herself, lip quivering and turned from them both.

"Misty…" he started, reaching out to take her hand. She snatched it away, set her shoulders firmly and tipped her chin to him.

"We should get back. It's cold."