Party
Halloween night throbbed with wild energy in the packed frat house on the outskirts of campus, the kind of chaotic bash where inhibitions melted away like candy corn under a hot tongue. Sarah nursed her lukewarm beer, the heavy bass vibrating through her ribs as she scanned the room. Her witch costume clung to her like a second skin—a skimpy black dress that barely skimmed her thighs, the fabric stretching taut over her full breasts and round hips. Fishnet stockings gripped her legs, leading up to shiny heels that clicked against the sticky floor. Her blonde hair cascaded in loose waves under the crooked pointed hat, and smudged eyeliner gave her eyes a sultry, spellbinding edge. The air hung thick with the scent of spiced rum, weed, and the faint rot of jack-o'-lanterns wilting on the porch.
She laughed off a sloppy pass from some jock in a pirate getup, her gaze drifting across the dim, strobe-lit space. That's when she locked eyes—or rather, empty voids—with him. He towered over the crowd, easily six-foot-three, his broad frame draped in a simple black hoodie and jeans that hugged his muscular thighs. But it was the white ghost mask that snagged her attention: smooth, featureless plastic with hollow black sockets and a thin slit for a mouth, evoking old-school horror flicks rather than the cheap sheet variety. It made him anonymous, untouchable, like a specter haunting the party. He lounged against the graffiti-scarred wall, arms folded over his chest, exuding quiet menace amid the drunken revelry. No one approached him; he was a black hole drawing her in.
Sarah's pulse quickened, a familiar heat pooling low in her belly. She set her beer down on a cluttered table and sauntered over, her hips rolling with deliberate sway. The crowd parted slightly, as if sensing the spark igniting between them. Up close, the mask loomed, its blank stare unnerving yet intoxicating. 'That mask,' she purred, tilting her chin up to meet its gaze, 'it's giving major creepy vibes. You planning to scare someone tonight, or just hide that pretty face?'
He didn't flinch, didn't speak. Instead, he unfolded his arms and stepped forward, invading her space. His gloved hand—black leather, adding to the mystery—brushed her hip, fingers splaying possessively over the curve of her ass. Electricity zipped through her veins, her nipples hardening against the thin dress. She held her ground, breath hitching as she inhaled his scent: clean soap mixed with something darker, like aged whiskey. 'Cat got your tongue?' she teased, but her voice came out breathy, laced with invitation.
Without warning, he seized her wrist and tugged her toward the dance floor, his grip ironclad yet careful. The music shifted to a pounding hip-hop beat, bodies slamming together in a sweaty mass. He pulled her flush against him, one arm snaking around her waist to lock her in place. Sarah melted into it, her back arching as she ground her ass against his crotch. She felt him immediately—his cock thickening in his jeans, pressing insistently against her through the layers. The mask hovered near her ear, cool plastic grazing her skin as his free hand trailed up her side, thumb skimming the swell of her breast.
They moved like that for what felt like hours, though it was probably minutes lost in the haze. His hips rolled with hers, guiding her in a rhythm that mimicked fucking—slow grinds building to urgent thrusts. Sarah's hands roamed backward, clutching his thighs, nails digging in as she felt the power coiled in his muscles. Sweat beaded on her cleavage, trickling down as his fingers dipped lower, cupping her mound through the dress. She gasped, parting her legs slightly to let him press harder, the friction teasing her clit until her panties grew soaked.
'You're driving me crazy,' she murmured over the thump of the bass, turning her head to nuzzle the mask. It was bizarre, erotic—the anonymity fueling her fire. He responded by pinching her nipple through the fabric, rolling it until she whimpered. Her pussy throbbed, aching to be filled. No more teasing. 'Upstairs,' she demanded, grabbing his hand and leading the way.
The stairs groaned under their weight as they climbed, her heart hammering. Drunk laughter echoed from open doors—couples tangled in foreplay, moans spilling out—but she didn't care. She shoved into the first unoccupied room: a dimly lit spare with a queen-sized bed rumpled from who-knows-what, faded band posters curling at the edges, and a faint musty smell. The door slammed shut, lock clicking, and he was on her in an instant.
His body pinned her against the wood, the mask's edge bumping her cheek as his mouth claimed hers through a hasty lift of the lower edge. Wait—no, he ripped the mask up just enough for his lips to crush against hers, tongue invading with aggressive hunger. Sarah moaned into the kiss, tasting beer and mint, her hands fisting his hoodie to yank it off. Underneath, a tight black t-shirt stretched over pecs that flexed under her palms. She clawed at the hem, pulling it up and over his head, the mask briefly dislodging before he adjusted it back down, leaving only his mouth exposed.
'Keep it on,' she gasped between kisses, nipping his lower lip. 'Makes it hotter.' He growled in response, a deep rumble that vibrated through her chest, and spun her around, marching her to the bed. Her hands braced on the mattress as he bent her forward, the dress riding up to expose her thighs. Cool air kissed her skin, but his hands were fire—yanking the zipper down her back, the fabric pooling at her waist.
He shoved her forward onto all fours, then knelt behind her, mask brushing her spine as he peeled the dress off completely. Sarah shivered, naked now except for the fishnets and heels, her heavy breasts swaying free. His fingers traced her spine, then gripped the waistband of her thong, snapping it against her skin before tearing it away with a rip that echoed in the room. 'Fuck, look at that ass,' he finally muttered, voice gravelly and low, the first words he'd spoken. His palms kneaded her cheeks, spreading them wide to expose her dripping pussy and tight asshole.
Sarah arched, pushing back. 'Don't just look—do something about it.' He chuckled darkly, then buried his face between her thighs. His tongue lashed out, flat and broad, licking from her clit to her entrance in one long, greedy swipe. She cried out, the sensation overwhelming—wet, hot, insistent. He devoured her like a starving man, sucking her folds into his mouth, teeth grazing her sensitive skin just enough to sting. Two fingers plunged inside her without preamble, thick and rough, scissoring to stretch her walls.
'Oh god, yes—finger-fuck me deeper,' she begged, rocking back onto his hand. He curled them, stroking that spongy spot inside while his tongue circled her clit, flicking relentlessly. Juices coated his chin, dripping down her thighs as she clenched around him. The mask's edge pressed into her ass cheek, a constant reminder of his hidden identity, heightening the thrill. He added a third finger, pumping hard, the squelch of her arousal filling the air. Sarah's thighs quivered, orgasm building like a storm.
He didn't let up, sucking her clit between his lips and humming against it, the vibration shattering her control. She came with a wail, pussy spasming, gushing over his fingers as waves of pleasure ripped through her. He kept thrusting, drawing it out until she collapsed forward, ass still up, panting. But he wasn't satisfied. Pulling his fingers free, he smeared her cream across her asshole, circling the puckered ring teasingly.
'Want this too?' he rasped, pressing a slick digit against it.
Sarah nodded frantically, pushing back. 'Yes—play with my ass while you eat me again.' He obliged, tongue diving back to her pussy as his finger breached her tight hole, inching in slowly. The dual assault—tongue lapping her oversensitive folds, finger fucking her ass—had her moaning incoherently. He worked her open, adding a second finger, the burn blending into ecstasy. She ground against his face, chasing another peak, her body a live wire.
When she shattered the second time, he finally stood, the bed dipping as he shed his jeans. His cock bobbed free—long and girthy, veins pulsing, the fat head purple and slick with pre-cum. Sarah twisted to watch, licking her lips. 'That thing's gonna wreck me. Give it to me—fuck my pussy raw.'
He gripped her hips, mask looming as he rubbed the tip along her slit, coating himself in her wetness. Then, with a grunt, he thrust in balls-deep, stretching her to the limit. Sarah screamed in bliss, walls fluttering around his thickness. He didn't ease in; he pounded immediately, hips snapping forward with brutal force, balls slapping her clit. The bedframe rattled, protesting the assault.
'So fucking wet for me,' he groaned, one hand tangling in her hair to yank her head back, arching her spine. The angle let him hit deeper, grinding against her g-spot with every plunge. Sarah clawed the sheets, tits bouncing wildly. 'Spank me—harder than before,' she demanded, and his free palm cracked against her ass, the sharp pain exploding into heat that made her squeeze him tighter.
He alternated—thrust, spank, thrust—leaving her cheeks glowing red. Sweat poured off them, skin slapping obscenely. He reached around, thumb finding her clit and rubbing furious circles. 'Cum on my cock, slut,' he ordered, voice muffled slightly by the mask's repositioning—he'd pulled it fully back down now, only his mouth free for commands.
The dirty talk pushed her over, orgasm crashing as she milked him, inner muscles rippling. He fucked her through it, relentless, until he pulled out with a wet pop. 'On your back—want to see your face when I fill you.'
Sarah flipped, spreading her legs wide, fishnets torn now from the frenzy. He settled between them, mask's empty eyes staring as he slammed back in. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his ass to urge him deeper. Their rhythm synced—her hips bucking up to meet his downward thrusts, the friction building unbearable tension. His hands pinned her wrists above her head, dominating, as he leaned down to bite her neck, sucking marks into her skin.
'Pinch my nipples—twist them,' she panted, and he released one hand to oblige, rolling the hard peaks between rough fingers. Pain and pleasure blurred, her pussy clenching greedily. He ground his pubic bone against her clit, the pressure coiling her tighter. 'I'm gonna cum—flood this pussy,' he warned, thrusts erratic.
'Do it—breed me,' she urged, nails raking his back. He roared, burying deep and erupting, hot jets of cum painting her walls. The sensation triggered her third climax, body convulsing as she took every drop.
They slumped together, breaths ragged, his weight a comforting press. After a moment, he rolled off, grabbing the discarded mask from the floor—no, he'd kept it on the whole time? Wait, in the heat, it had stayed, a silent witness. He adjusted it playfully, the white plastic gleaming in the low light. 'Think you can handle more? With the mask on properly this time—no peeking.'
Sarah's eyes sparkled, energy surging back. She pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips. His cock, still semi-hard and slick with their mixed fluids, twitched as she ground against it. 'Oh, we're just getting started. Keep that ghost face on—makes me want to ride you until you beg.'
She positioned herself, sinking down slowly, savoring the stretch as he filled her again. Cum from before leaked out around him, easing the way. Bouncing started tentative, then fierce—her ass slapping his thighs, breasts heaving with each drop. He gripped her waist, thumbs digging bruises, thrusting up to meet her. The mask stared up at her, anonymous and thrilling, as she leaned forward, pressing her tits to his chest.
'Touch my ass—finger it while I fuck you,' she commanded. His hand slid back, middle finger probing her cum-slick hole before pushing in. The fullness—cock in pussy, finger in ass—had her keening, pace faltering into desperate grinds. He added a second finger, stretching her, the dual penetration making stars burst behind her eyes.
They built like that, her riding him to oblivion, until another orgasm ripped through her, soaking his balls. He flipped them suddenly, pinning her down with the mask inches from her face. 'My turn to wreck you again.' He hammered into her, the wet mess of cum squelching, until he came once more, spilling deep.
Exhausted, they tangled in the sheets, the party raging on below. Sarah traced the mask's edge, grinning. 'Best Halloween ever. Ghost boy, you're staying all night.'
He pulled her close, silent but for a satisfied hum, the night far from over.
