u/zombies-never-saydie

It started in the parking lot of the old Video Treasure--now as thoroughly defunct as the very idea of renting a physical movie. Knee-high weeds pushed up through the cracked asphalt. Crushed cigarette butts and faded and torn VHS covers spread along the perimeter. And a single car--yours--parked at the far end, right where the parking lot collapsed into the dense Brush Creek Forest.

You stepped out of your Honda, clad purely in black (that goth skirt and fishnets, just like I asked), save for cream scrunchie holding your hair in a high bun.

It began just like we discussed.

I parked around the corner, so you wouldn't know where to expect me from. It was 5 PM. Still plenty of time before sunset. I let you linger in the parking lot for a beat, your eyes likely scanning every direction, looking for any sign of me. Then I stepped out from the indent that housed Video Treasure's emergency exit. Staring at you in my dark navy pants and stark white mask.

The space between us was electric with tension. You drew backwards, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a step forward. Then another. Slow, but consistent. You kept backing up, bumped into your car. Moved around it. Stumbled over the curb.

"Wha-what are you doing? Who are you?"

Of course you knew who I was, but you were good at playing your role. Close enough now that your eyes were looking for mine. I watched your pupils searching my mask, looking for some semblance of humanity. Stark and empty. Just a few feet from you now. Close enough to lunge and grab...

"I think you oughta--"

I lunged. Cut you by the hair, twist my hand, pulling it tightly around my fist, drawing you backwards a half-step. I could smell the slight, floral scent of your perfume. I slid my hand along your upper thigh, pushing my finger under one of the webs of the fishnet, stretching it.

SCRITCH

Ripping it.

"Ah! What are you--?!" You tried to wriggle free but I turned my hand in your hair clockwise again, pulling your body back against mine, my fingers now tangled in your roots. Pulling backwards at your scalp, I forced you to look up at me, to stare into the black eyeholes of my mask. Empty voids. I was much larger than you, which was patently obvious as I pushed my body against yours, my throbbing erection pressing against your ass.

"Tell me," finally, I spoke, my mask pressed right against your ear, "why did you come out here dressed like such a slut?"

"I'm--I'm not dressed like a slut..." your voice weak and bewildered as you twisted helplessly in my grip.

I shoved you forward. You feel on your hands and knees in the dirt patch where the parking lot ended. It was just enough force to make your skirt ride up, revealing a tiny cream thong--matching your scrunchie--beneath your fishnets.

"Is that why you're wearing that tiny thong?" I made a point to noisily began to unbuckle my belt, so that you knew what was coming.

But just as I begin to push my fly open you scrambled to your feet and made off at a run, the dead leaves crunching beneath your flats. I let out a huff of satisfaction as I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. Time for a chase.

I didn't run. I didn't have to. I knew you'd run out of breath soon enough. Get lost. Turned around. Maybe trip over a fallen log or stumble through a low creek bed. Anyway, I knew you weren't really trying to get away, but it must have made your heart pound to look over your shoulder and see me clambering after you, just far enough away to make you think you had a shot.

It was that looking back that did you in. You stumbled down a slight slope, foot searching for even ground but not finding it. You splashed through a creek, water up to your ankles. Then fell forward onto the opposite bank.

I vaulted over a fallen trees, crushed dead leaves, and snapped twigs as I closed the distance. Quickly enough I was straddling you, shadow cast along your small body as you tried to get to your feet. I crouched down, pushing my weight against you, and grabbed you by the nape of your neck.

"Now you're mine."

*SCRITCH*

Hand under your skirt, ripping your fishnets apart. Fingers pressed flat against the underside of your thong. I could feel the wet warmth.

"Soaking fucking wet." I taunted you, dragging my fingers along the smooth fabric, teasing at the sides, barely brushing your lips.

"No you can't--"

I cut you off, "Then why are you so wet, hm?" I curled my finger under the band of your thong and pulled back until it ripped too. You tried to struggle but I held you tight, shoving you against the ground as I pushed my index and middle finger inside your dripping pussy.

"Hear that?" I taunted, "Sounds like a needy fucking slut."

You didn't bother to argue. Your words melted into a moan, whining as I pushed deeper inside of you. I gripped your top knot with my other hand, pulling you backwards as I shoved my fingers inside your pussy. In and out, making sloppy wet noises as you dripped into my palm.

You were on all fours, with me kneeling beside you, fingerfucking you, making your tits bounce so much they popped out of your tube top. I didn't miss the opportunity. My hand from your hair to your nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, making you whine ever more desperately. I drew wetness from your pussy and began to tease your clit in firm, fast circles. I knew you were going to cum soon, could already tell from the way your whines were growing higher in pitch.

"Ah! Ah!" There it was. Your entire body shuddering against my hands, grip tighter, holding you in place as you squeezed your thighs around my fingers.

"Oh fuck, fuck, sensi--" before you could finish your sentence my cock was out and pushing against your slit. I shoved it in, feeling you absolutely coat me in simmering need.

SMACK

One hand grabbing and smacking your ass while the other pulled back on your hair, manhandling you, keeping you in place while I made your tits bounce from how fucking hard I pushed inside of you. I wasn't going to last long, but didn't need to, you were already drawing towards another orgasm.This time you were rubbing your clit. Endless circles as I made your pussy stretch around my thick shaft.

You shivered and clenched against me again and I responded by shooting ropes of thick cum inside your desperate pussy. I kept fucking you, balls slapping against your labia as I pushed my cum deeper and deeper.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it," my voice a jumble of grunts as I filled you up.

Then, it was over.

My cock slipping out of you, followed closely by a sticky glob of cum landing in the brittle leaves. We both stayed there catching our breath. I gripped your ass as I came down, then finally removed my mask. Tossed it aside. Pulled you into my lap.

"Good girl." Soft. Hand scratching the back of your head, bringing you back to me. "Such a good girl."

Sometimes that's all you need: a reminder that you're not a slut, but my slut. And, no matter how hard you like to take it, I'll always make sure you're safe.

You always went to the same place.

The nature preserve off Sandy Lane. It was a single lane gravel road that terminated in a dense, spiraling forest. A dirt parking lot just big enough for a handful of cars--and never full.

You always got here just before sunset. 6:30. Sometimes 7. Early enough for it to still be light out when you started but late enough that the sky was normally a darkened orange hue when you finished.

You would alter your path every time, but you had a system. Left on Mondays. Right on Tuesdays. Center on Wednesdays. Repeat or reverse.

I liked timing you. Sitting in my dusty off-white pickup while you disappeared into the tree cover. Listening to an audiobook while I waited. It was usually 45-ish minutes later that you'd reemerge. Much sweatier. Panting. Red in the face. Hair slick. But looking satisfied.

Every time you came out--I couldn't help but imagine you looking that way after I got my hands on you.

So, today, I didn't wait in the parking lot.

I followed you.

Just like you wanted.

We discussed. Made an arrangement.

Still, an exact appointment didn't quite carry the excitement you were looking for. We found a visual way to communicate without explicitly setting a date. Anytime you wore the bright pink matching set--the skin tight yoga shorts and complementary sports bra barely containing your tits--meant you were ready to be hunted.

Today was one of those days.

Along with the matching set, you had your hair up in a high ponytail. It swayed like a pendulum--as if it was counting down the seconds until I reached you--while you disappeared into the preserve. Your ass bounced with each lilting step. Blood rushed south.

This was going to be fun.

I got out of the truck, my Danners leaving distinct prints in the dusty earth as I followed after you. But I didn't run; I knew I didn't have to. I saw just enough of you to know that you were taking the left-hand path today and I knew exactly where I could cut you off. It meant straying from the path, walking through the brush, and crossing a narrow stream.

While stepping over a dead log, I could see you through the swaying pine trees, rounding a bend, AirPods in. You wouldn't hear my boots crunching over fallen twigs. Probably wouldn't even notice me pulling down the mask--ghostly, black and white, classic. It matched the rest of my outfit: the dark jeans and long-sleeve black and grey flannel. Black gloves too, with rubber on the fingertips--perfect for grabbing you.

I got into position, sidling up to the path--still hidden by the foliage--as you came jogging towards me. It was overcast today. Dark, wavy clouds hung low in the sky. They threatened rain, but, for now, gave me more cover as dusk sank towards night.

You passed. Didn't even notice me despite being a mere arms-length from you. I stepped onto the path, lunged forward, wrapped my arm around your waist, my other hand snapping shut over your mouth. Your brain must have immediately went into fight mode. You struggled against me, but I heaved you up easily, dragging you into the brush. I shoved you against a tree, the branches rattling over our heads.

"Shut up." Muffled but gruff from behind my mask. I was pressed against you, staring into your eyes, your back against the tree while my palm still covered your mouth. "This can be easy. If you keep quiet."

Your eyes wide, but knowing. I wanted this fast and rough. My free hand shot under your sports bra, thumb and forefinger twisting your nipples--hard--as you pleaded against my palm.

"I said 'shut up'," I twisted harder, eliciting a little yelp of pain. Still teasing your nipple, I pushed my index finger into your mouth, making you taste the slick leather and rough rubber. "There it is, gag like a good little slut. This is nothing."

Then I was pulling your top up, grabbing both tits, rolling your nipples before shoving you to your knees. You fell into the crumpled leaves with only a modicum of resistance. I already had my cock out--thick and fucking throbbing--barely giving you the time to register it before I was shoving it into your mouth. I kept one hand pressed firmly onto your crown while the other grasped your neck, holding you tight while I fucked your mouth.

Drool pooled along the underside of my shaft, eventually pouring over your bottom lip, pouring thickly down your chin. You looked up at me, eyes wet, blinking, all you saw was the mask looking back. You tried pushing back against my thighs, but I only held you tighter, made you take it further, my balls starting to slap wetly against your chin.

It was fortunate that no one was walking past. They might have seen us through the brush: you with your tits out, on your knees, swallowing my cock and me above you, holding you, making you fucking take it.

Satisfied with the saliva coating my shaft, I gave you a break, pulled out as you exhaled and gasped. I thumped my cock against your cheeks. Your forehead. Spit and precum smearing across your reddened, pretty face.

"Get up," but I didn't give you the choice. I grasped you under your armpits and hoisted you back to your feet, spun you around, snatched the stretchy hem of your tight yoga shorts and yanked them down. There it was--your perfect fucking ass. Round and peachy. And no thong? How convenient.

SMACK

Gloved hand against your ass. The sound echoed. Loud.

I left the shorts around your knees to constrict your movement.

SMACK

Again. You tried to stifle a whine.

Even in the approaching dark, I could see your pussy glistening between your thighs.

And it was going to be mine.

SMACK

Ass bouncing as I positioned my spit-slick shaft against your dripping slit. Felt you moan and press against me. You weren't even pretending to hide your need now. I leaned forward, grasping one of your nipples with my hand as I plunged inside of you. Deep and fast. All the way. Balls against your labia.

Again.

Again.

Over and over. Plunging inside of you. Pounding your pussy as you grasped onto the bark of the tree. Nails digging in.

Again.

Again.

One hand teasing your nipple, the other grasping your ass like I fucking owned it.

Pounding. That noise. My cock stretching your pussy. Wet slapping. Flesh against flesh. Your legs held tightly together, your pussy clenching me. You were going to cum. I knew it. Going to cum all fucking over my cock.

I kept going. Pushing you there. You let out a small cry as your body flexed against my hands. Shivering. Shaking. I held you up. Kept going. Came as yours slowed down. Pumping it inside of you. Hot, sticky cum. Rope after rope. Filling your pussy. Couldn't stop. Kept fucking it inside of you even when there was nothing left. Kept going as my cock began to soften.

Finally. Flaccid. Falling out. Watched as cum dripped into the leaves. Red hand marks on your ass.

I left you like that--shorts still halfway down, sports bra pulled up--and disappeared back into the brush.

I gave it some time, ditched my costume, and returned to you after you had pulled yourself back together as much as possible. I could still a wet spot on your shorts now--from either my cum or your pussy or both. You looked up at me and smiled dreamily. Hug. Kiss on the forehead.

"You did so good."

I wrapped my arm around your waist and walked you back.

Rubbed your shoulders. Held you tight in the parking lot.

Looking down at you, no more mask. "Is that the way you wanted it?"

"It was perfect."

It was dark now. We would meet back at your apartment. I was still turned on. "Maybe we should do it again at your place?"

You grinned, "Take me like you need me."

Will do.

It started in the parking lot of the old Video Treasure--now as thoroughly defunct as the very idea of renting a physical movie. Knee-high weeds pushed up through the cracked asphalt. Crushed cigarette butts and faded and torn VHS covers spread along the perimeter. And a single car--yours--parked at the far end, right where the parking lot collapsed into the dense Brush Creek Forest.

You stepped out of your Honda, clad purely in black (that goth skirt and fishnets, just like I asked), save for cream scrunchie holding your hair in a high bun.

It began just like we discussed.

I parked around the corner, so you wouldn't know where to expect me from. It was 5 PM. Still plenty of time before sunset. I let you linger in the parking lot for a beat, your eyes likely scanning every direction, looking for any sign of me. Then I stepped out from the indent that housed Video Treasure's emergency exit. Staring at you in my dark navy pants and stark white mask.

The space between us was electric with tension. You drew backwards, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a step forward. Then another. Slow, but consistent. You kept backing up, bumped into your car. Moved around it. Stumbled over the curb.

"Wha-what are you doing? Who are you?"

Of course you knew who I was, but you were good at playing your role. Close enough now that your eyes were looking for mine. I watched your pupils searching my mask, looking for some semblance of humanity. Stark and empty. Just a few feet from you now. Close enough to lunge and grab...

"I think you oughta--"

I lunged. Cut you by the hair, twist my hand, pulling it tightly around my fist, drawing you backwards a half-step. I could smell the slight, floral scent of your perfume. I slid my hand along your upper thigh, pushing my finger under one of the webs of the fishnet, stretching it.

SCRITCH

Ripping it.

"Ah! What are you--?!" You tried to wriggle free but I turned my hand in your hair clockwise again, pulling your body back against mine, my fingers now tangled in your roots. Pulling backwards at your scalp, I forced you to look up at me, to stare into the black eyeholes of my mask. Empty voids. I was much larger than you, which was patently obvious as I pushed my body against yours, my throbbing erection pressing against your ass.

"Tell me," finally, I spoke, my mask pressed right against your ear, "why did you come out here dressed like such a slut?"

"I'm--I'm not dressed like a slut..." your voice weak and bewildered as you twisted helplessly in my grip.

I shoved you forward. You feel on your hands and knees in the dirt patch where the parking lot ended. It was just enough force to make your skirt ride up, revealing a tiny cream thong--matching your scrunchie--beneath your fishnets.

"Is that why you're wearing that tiny thong?" I made a point to noisily began to unbuckle my belt, so that you knew what was coming.

But just as I begin to push my fly open you scrambled to your feet and made off at a run, the dead leaves crunching beneath your flats. I let out a huff of satisfaction as I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. Time for a chase.

I didn't run. I didn't have to. I knew you'd run out of breath soon enough. Get lost. Turned around. Maybe trip over a fallen log or stumble through a low creek bed. Anyway, I knew you weren't really trying to get away, but it must have made your heart pound to look over your shoulder and see me clambering after you, just far enough away to make you think you had a shot.

It was that looking back that did you in. You stumbled down a slight slope, foot searching for even ground but not finding it. You splashed through a creek, water up to your ankles. Then fell forward onto the opposite bank.

I vaulted over a fallen trees, crushed dead leaves, and snapped twigs as I closed the distance. Quickly enough I was straddling you, shadow cast along your small body as you tried to get to your feet. I crouched down, pushing my weight against you, and grabbed you by the nape of your neck.

"Now you're mine."

*SCRITCH*

Hand under your skirt, ripping your fishnets apart. Fingers pressed flat against the underside of your thong. I could feel the wet warmth.

"Soaking fucking wet." I taunted you, dragging my fingers along the smooth fabric, teasing at the sides, barely brushing your lips.

"No you can't--"

I cut you off, "Then why are you so wet, hm?" I curled my finger under the band of your thong and pulled back until it ripped too. You tried to struggle but I held you tight, shoving you against the ground as I pushed my index and middle finger inside your dripping pussy.

"Hear that?" I taunted, "Sounds like a needy fucking slut."

You didn't bother to argue. Your words melted into a moan, whining as I pushed deeper inside of you. I gripped your top knot with my other hand, pulling you backwards as I shoved my fingers inside your pussy. In and out, making sloppy wet noises as you dripped into my palm.

You were on all fours, with me kneeling beside you, fingerfucking you, making your tits bounce so much they popped out of your tube top. I didn't miss the opportunity. My hand from your hair to your nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, making you whine ever more desperately. I drew wetness from your pussy and began to tease your clit in firm, fast circles. I knew you were going to cum soon, could already tell from the way your whines were growing higher in pitch.

"Ah! Ah!" There it was. Your entire body shuddering against my hands, grip tighter, holding you in place as you squeezed your thighs around my fingers.

"Oh fuck, fuck, sensi--" before you could finish your sentence my cock was out and pushing against your slit. I shoved it in, feeling you absolutely coat me in simmering need.

SMACK

One hand grabbing and smacking your ass while the other pulled back on your hair, manhandling you, keeping you in place while I made your tits bounce from how fucking hard I pushed inside of you. I wasn't going to last long, but didn't need to, you were already drawing towards another orgasm.This time you were rubbing your clit. Endless circles as I made your pussy stretch around my thick shaft.

You shivered and clenched against me again and I responded by shooting ropes of thick cum inside your desperate pussy. I kept fucking you, balls slapping against your labia as I pushed my cum deeper and deeper.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it," my voice a jumble of grunts as I filled you up.

Then, it was over.

My cock slipping out of you, followed closely by a sticky glob of cum landing in the brittle leaves. We both stayed there catching our breath. I gripped your ass as I came down, then finally removed my mask. Tossed it aside. Pulled you into my lap.

"Good girl." Soft. Hand scratching the back of your head, bringing you back to me. "Such a good girl."

Sometimes that's all you need: a reminder that you're not a slut, but my slut. And, no matter how hard you like to take it, I'll always make sure you're safe.

***

This is an invitation to chat. About the above and related fantasies. You in?

It started in the parking lot of the old Video Treasure--now as thoroughly defunct as the very idea of renting a physical movie. Knee-high weeds pushed up through the cracked asphalt. Crushed cigarette butts and faded and torn VHS covers spread along the perimeter. And a single car--yours--parked at the far end, right where the parking lot collapsed into the dense Brush Creek Forest.

You stepped out of your Honda, clad purely in black (that goth skirt and fishnets, just like I asked), save for cream scrunchie holding your hair in a high bun.

It began just like we discussed.

I parked around the corner, so you wouldn't know where to expect me from. It was 5 PM. Still plenty of time before sunset. I let you linger in the parking lot for a beat, your eyes likely scanning every direction, looking for any sign of me. Then I stepped out from the indent that housed Video Treasure's emergency exit. Staring at you in my dark navy pants and stark white mask.

The space between us was electric with tension. You drew backwards, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a step forward. Then another. Slow, but consistent. You kept backing up, bumped into your car. Moved around it. Stumbled over the curb.

"Wha-what are you doing? Who are you?"

Of course you knew who I was, but you were good at playing your role. Close enough now that your eyes were looking for mine. I watched your pupils searching my mask, looking for some semblance of humanity. Stark and empty. Just a few feet from you now. Close enough to lunge and grab...

"I think you oughta--"

I lunged. Cut you by the hair, twist my hand, pulling it tightly around my fist, drawing you backwards a half-step. I could smell the slight, floral scent of your perfume. I slid my hand along your upper thigh, pushing my finger under one of the webs of the fishnet, stretching it.

SCRITCH

Ripping it.

"Ah! What are you--?!" You tried to wriggle free but I turned my hand in your hair clockwise again, pulling your body back against mine, my fingers now tangled in your roots. Pulling backwards at your scalp, I forced you to look up at me, to stare into the black eyeholes of my mask. Empty voids. I was much larger than you, which was patently obvious as I pushed my body against yours, my throbbing erection pressing against your ass.

"Tell me," finally, I spoke, my mask pressed right against your ear, "why did you come out here dressed like such a slut?"

"I'm--I'm not dressed like a slut..." your voice weak and bewildered as you twisted helplessly in my grip.

I shoved you forward. You feel on your hands and knees in the dirt patch where the parking lot ended. It was just enough force to make your skirt ride up, revealing a tiny cream thong--matching your scrunchie--beneath your fishnets.

"Is that why you're wearing that tiny thong?" I made a point to noisily began to unbuckle my belt, so that you knew what was coming.

But just as I begin to push my fly open you scrambled to your feet and made off at a run, the dead leaves crunching beneath your flats. I let out a huff of satisfaction as I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. Time for a chase.

I didn't run. I didn't have to. I knew you'd run out of breath soon enough. Get lost. Turned around. Maybe trip over a fallen log or stumble through a low creek bed. Anyway, I knew you weren't really trying to get away, but it must have made your heart pound to look over your shoulder and see me clambering after you, just far enough away to make you think you had a shot.

It was that looking back that did you in. You stumbled down a slight slope, foot searching for even ground but not finding it. You splashed through a creek, water up to your ankles. Then fell forward onto the opposite bank.

I vaulted over a fallen trees, crushed dead leaves, and snapped twigs as I closed the distance. Quickly enough I was straddling you, shadow cast along your small body as you tried to get to your feet. I crouched down, pushing my weight against you, and grabbed you by the nape of your neck.

"Now you're mine."

*SCRITCH*

Hand under your skirt, ripping your fishnets apart. Fingers pressed flat against the underside of your thong. I could feel the wet warmth.

"Soaking fucking wet." I taunted you, dragging my fingers along the smooth fabric, teasing at the sides, barely brushing your lips.

"No you can't--"

I cut you off, "Then why are you so wet, hm?" I curled my finger under the band of your thong and pulled back until it ripped too. You tried to struggle but I held you tight, shoving you against the ground as I pushed my index and middle finger inside your dripping pussy.

"Hear that?" I taunted, "Sounds like a needy fucking slut."

You didn't bother to argue. Your words melted into a moan, whining as I pushed deeper inside of you. I gripped your top knot with my other hand, pulling you backwards as I shoved my fingers inside your pussy. In and out, making sloppy wet noises as you dripped into my palm.

You were on all fours, with me kneeling beside you, fingerfucking you, making your tits bounce so much they popped out of your tube top. I didn't miss the opportunity. My hand from your hair to your nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, making you whine ever more desperately. I drew wetness from your pussy and began to tease your clit in firm, fast circles. I knew you were going to cum soon, could already tell from the way your whines were growing higher in pitch.

"Ah! Ah!" There it was. Your entire body shuddering against my hands, grip tighter, holding you in place as you squeezed your thighs around my fingers.

"Oh fuck, fuck, sensi--" before you could finish your sentence my cock was out and pushing against your slit. I shoved it in, feeling you absolutely coat me in simmering need.

SMACK

One hand grabbing and smacking your ass while the other pulled back on your hair, manhandling you, keeping you in place while I made your tits bounce from how fucking hard I pushed inside of you. I wasn't going to last long, but didn't need to, you were already drawing towards another orgasm.This time you were rubbing your clit. Endless circles as I made your pussy stretch around my thick shaft.

You shivered and clenched against me again and I responded by shooting ropes of thick cum inside your desperate pussy. I kept fucking you, balls slapping against your labia as I pushed my cum deeper and deeper.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it," my voice a jumble of grunts as I filled you up.

Then, it was over.

My cock slipping out of you, followed closely by a sticky glob of cum landing in the brittle leaves. We both stayed there catching our breath. I gripped your ass as I came down, then finally removed my mask. Tossed it aside. Pulled you into my lap.

"Good girl." Soft. Hand scratching the back of your head, bringing you back to me. "Such a good girl."

Sometimes that's all you need: a reminder that you're not a slut, but my slut. And, no matter how hard you like to take it, I'll always make sure you're safe.

***

This is an invitation to chat. About the above and related fantasies. You in?

You wore pink eyeshadow, as instructed.

You were sitting–legs crossed, revealing just a hint of thigh beneath your short, pleated skirt–at a table alone, stirring your latte? tea? frappe? something. I watched you carefully from across the cafe, flipping absent-mindedly through Underworld. Fitting–in a very literal sense. An underground parking structure–our intended meeting point. Of course I couldn’t focus on Delillo right then.

It was enough. I caught you looking. The flicker of recognition as you saw me pull the novel to my nose.

You got up to leave, sashaying in a flirtatious manner as you set your oversized mug on the counter. Your skirt swayed lightly, yet still managed to grip the noticeable curves of your ass cheeks. I could imagine my hand slipping beneath the hemline and groping you, goosebumps bubbling up as my teeth grazed along your neck…

The sun was sinking below the horizon while I followed you out the cafe and down Thrush Street. It was bustling–a crowded downtown strip on a Thursday night–but it’d be quiet where we were going: that parking garage next to the courthouse. It was tucked far enough away from the bars on West Third that it was essentially deserted after 6 PM. Such a silly place to park if you’re going to Cafe Mocha.

But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? The long walk past the clamor of the pubs and restaurants, away from the smell of smoke and din of televised sports. You walked block after block, glancing over your shoulder occasionally to see if I was still following. But I was taunting you, sometimes crossing the street or dipping into an alleyway only to reappear a few seconds later. I saw you looking around, searching for me within the thinning crowd.

After an almost agonizingly long jaunt, you finally reached the yawning maw of the parking garage. An asphalt descent through the gates. Down, down, down.

I closed the distance quickly. Underground. Four sublevels. You were on the lowest. Naturally. Your heels–pink like your eyeshadow–clicked against the concrete as you entered the stairwell.

Good girl. Why would you take the elevator when you could take those dark, lonely stairs? Savor these moments. This swelling of anticipation.

I waited a few beats, peeking through the stairwell's small, square window until you crossed the first switchback landing. Then I opened the door and deliberately let it slam behind me. It echoed in the narrow concrete chamber. My feet fell heavily as I followed you down.

We hadn’t discussed the specifics of when I’d snatch you, so I was enjoying the pursuit, knowing that your pulse must be quickening, your mind racing, wondering when you were going to feel a hand wrap around your neck or shoulder or waist.

The bottom level was virtually empty except for your car–parked way off in a corner. You had to sense I was behind you now. Still, I waited until you had your keys out and were a few steps from your car–until maybe you were starting to feel disappointed, perhaps thinking I was going to chicken out or couldn’t find a clear opening to engage. But in a flash I had one hand reaching around to grasp your stomach and the other covering your mouth.

“Don’t say a fucking word.” My voice gruff and serious.

I pushed you forward, bending you over the hood of your Camry so that my waist pushed against your ass. Your skirt was so short it was riding up, exposing the pale, U-shaped curves of your upper glutes.

My hand fell from your stomach, two fingers shoved between your thighs. “A thong. Fitting for a slut.”

I pressed my fingers flat against the thin band of fabric separating your pussy from my fingerprints. “What’s that?” I taunted you, pressing my fingers more firmly against you, so that I could feel your labia against the thong. “Feels wet.”

I withdrew my hand, sliding it along the side of your ass and then up to the waistband. I called it back, stretching it, stretching it. More, more, more and then–SNAP. Tattered fabric floating gently to the ground. Soon, my fingers were back, this time flat against your bare slit. I could feel that you were soaked. And your moaning confirmed just how turned on you were. Slowly, I slid my index finger inside you.

“So fucking tight,” I growled. “Can’t wait to stretch you..”

You clenched around me, squeezing my second knuckles as I slid further inside you. I spread my fingers apart, turning their “L” shape into a “V.” While I fingered you I leaned in close, pushing my erection against your ass and biting at your earlobe.

“This is going to be fun.”

I was caught in the thrill of the moment–ready to go fast and rough. No point dragging it out. Keep it concise. Never dull.

The clanking of metal. Belt unclasped. Cock out, precum-wet tip slapping against your ass. A little speck of that sticky stuff breaking off against your smattering of freckles. Thumb across the base of my shaft, pushing it down, dragging the sensitive head until it was propped under the curl of your ass. A shift of my hips. Now it was between your thighs, bouncing up with each pump of blood. My breathing heavy on your neck. Cock up. Push. Push. Push. Spread those tight fucking lips. So fucking wet.

Hand at your neck, your hair wrapped around it. Pressing your face against the cool metal of the hood. Shoving you hard as the rim of my head clears your entrance. Inch after inch. Digging deep.

Deep.

Deeper.

“I hope you don’t mind–I forgot to bring a condom.”

My hand was around your throat bending you back from the hood of the car while my dick plunged towards your cervix. Heavy balls squished against your lips. “Should I fill your pussy with my cum?”

“N-no-! Mm!” Your first words. Everything prior just whines and moans.

I pushed you back down.

“Shut up and take it.”

Heavy breathing. Small whines and moans. Balls slapping against your wet lips. Hand digging bruises into your ass. Car shaking gently beneath you. You gave in. Let me have my way.

“Fine, fine. You wanna play it safe, huh? I can do safe sex.” I pulled you up by the hair, spun you around, pushed you to your knees.

“Open that fucking mouth.”

You did so demurely. Half-heartedly.

A slap across your pretty cheek that echoed in the empty cement garage.

“Don’t be cute,” my voice lowering into a growl, “I know you’ve sucked dick before. Is that how you do it? Looking like you’re half-asleep? Does it look like this will fit in your mouth if you only open that wide?”

My cock swayed back and forth–thick and swollen and wet from your pussy. I dug my thumb and forefinger into your cheeks, forcing your tongue out. Then I firmly pushed my hips forward, dipping my thick-rimmed cockhead between your lips while pushing you back against the wheel well.

“How’s your pussy taste?” I sneered while thrusting my rod past your uvula. “Let me get deep and this’ll be over soon. You think I can cum from something gentle? I need to go fucking hard to finish.” I squeezed your nostrils shut with one hand and cupped your chin with the other, holding you in place while I increased my speed. “So be a good girl and take it.”

Rougher and rougher. One palm spread wide across your scalp. The other pressing on your cheeks, feeling them puff out to make room for my cock. You started to gag, spit bubbling up around my shaft. I was going to cum.

A jerk back, cock breaking free from your throat with a long whip of saliva. An immediate burst of white on your eyebrow. Another on your nose. Then your cheek. Then your forehead. Cock back into your mouth, pumping harder, convulsing, a few more ropes.

Then, “Suck it clean.” My hand still on your head as you lavished my tip with your tongue. Sucked it like your life depended on it. Hand between your thighs. Quivering. “Better this way anyway. Only an unabashed cocksucker would take a load on the face. Just what you deserve.” I pulled myself from your lips, tapped a final bit of semen against your forehead, and zipped my pants.

I leaned forward, grabbed your chin, “Have a good night, slut. I know I did.”

---

I gave it a few minutes. Ducked into the stairwell, caught my breath. My pulse pounding. My cock sore, but satisfied. I looked through the door’s window and saw you leaning on your car, looking light-headed. I returned–this time gently, calmly. I kneeled down and lifted your chin, “You did good. So good. Are you okay?”

A nod. Still dazed.

We took it easy. I sat with you, letting you come down from the rush. After a few moments, your eyes focused on me. You were thinking.

“Ice cream?”

I chuckled, grabbed your hand, helped you up, and kissed your forehead.

“Of course.”

I walked you to the passenger door and helped you inside. My cum was still drying on your face, I could see the slight sparkle beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. I handed you a wet wipe, “You might want to clean that off. Someone might think you’re a slut.”

“I’m having a hard time believing you’re a skeleton with an ass like that.”

Ella was dressed in a black, skin tight bodysuit that featured the outlines of a skeleton on the front and back. I might call it a lazy costume if not for her elaborate face makeup, which–like the rest of her costume–glowed in the dark, giving her the luminescent appearance of the risen dead in a dark room. Her wavy, golden locks were pulled into ponytails, which didn’t quite nail the skeletal theme, but they sure were cute.

“Oh? I’m so sorry for ruining your sense of immersion on this, the holiest of holidays.” She pursed her lips at me while placing a grape “eyeball” between them. She sucked on it teasingly before popping it inside her cheek, “Are you trying to solve the mystery of the open grave in Hill Hollow Memorial Cemetery, detective? I promise you I’m not the undead woman you’re looking for.”

My costume really was lazy. I was a “70s private investigator.” It was an excuse to put together an outfit culled from a local thrift shop–and to carry handcuffs, of course. Gotta make those citizen’s arrests. Ella rolled her eyes at my open-collared paisley shirt, but her sarcastic remark was cut short when I grabbed her ass and pointed her towards the narrow hall that led to the bathroom. We’d only been at Tim’s Halloween house party for an hour, but I was ready to get my dick wet.

“Where are we going, Sir?” She stuck out her bottom lip, making it quiver with mock apprehension.

“I’m bringing you in for an oral examination. I have the sneaking suspicion you’re not being honest with me.”

---

I wrapped my hand tautly in one pigtail, flexing my forearm as I pulled her to face me. My wide, hungry eyes fixated on hers as I unzipped my fly and thumbed my boxers down. My rock-solid erection fell with a thick thump, bouncing twice against the bridge of Ella’s nose before resting on her lips.I smiled at her glowing face paint, nearly overcome with the pleasure of watching her sit obediently on her knees while my manhood cast a shadow across her face, leaving behind a trail of sticky precum. It was a graveyard smash.

The thumping dubstep remix of “Monster Mash” gently vibrated the door. A gust of cool air blew through the bathroom’s open window, rippling stray hairs across Ella’s face. I drug my cock up to her forehead and then down to her left cheek, over her nose and then tapping her right cheek.

Finally I pushed it back and forth across the warm wetness of her lips, tracing their curves asI taunted her, “You’ve been a very bad skeleton, running off from the graveyard like that. I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson in burial edicate before I take you home. Now, I expect you to swallow every inch. That means I should see a trail of your spit leading right up to my abdomen. Understand?”

I paused just a beat, shifting my hips back as I prepared to push apart her crooked smile. Now both of my hands were in her hair, treating those golden trestles as handlebars. Her eyes–ringed in deep black and white makeup–met mine as I thrust forward, burying my vein-ensconced member as deep as I could manage in her throat. With anyone else, I might have started out slow, but Ella already knew how to take my dick. The first time]she’d needed a light hand. But she was eager for me to push her harder and now she could comfortably swallow nearly my full length on the first push.

So I was liberated from my inhibitions when I thrust broke through her airlock, plunging my throbbing appendage hard against the back of her throat. She gracefully took me in whole, barely even gagging as I pushed past her tonsils. My hands twisted her pigtails, pulling her hair at its roots.

“Good girl, Ella. You can take it, can’t you?”

“Mphm,” she mumbled with her windpipe stuffed. She looked up at me, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling as they searched for affirmation.

I pushed her head down, “Eyes on my stomach. That’s where your nose should be. I’m gonna fuck your makeup right off.”

“Mhpht?!” She sounded mildly alarmed as I shoved her nostrils to my pubic bone. But whatever vague words she could make were soon replaced by GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK as I began rocking her head back and forth like a toy. Her lips formed a perfect circular suction cup around my shaft, leaving smears of her black lipstick as I pumped her to and fro.

“This is for you, Ella. All for you. Every last millimeter. Suck it all down.” my palm spidered like an egg broken across the crown of her head. my other hand pressed against the eggshell white wall above my eager cocksucker, bent at the forearm so that I could lean my head against the makeshift pillow and really badger her throat. I pushed her back too. Now instead of pumping her head on my cock I had her pressed into the wall. While I fucked her throat with little remorse, her hands pressed into my thighs, squeezing harder, harder, harder.

I was grunting like a caveman, lost in the rough pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it. Deeper.”

I felt the vibrations of her vocal cords moaning and squirming and perhaps even talking. Was that a “help me, Sir” that rang like a beautiful melody in my ears? Sure, I can help you, Ella. Let me just shove my balls against your chin.

Eventually, I gave her enough space between thrusts so that she could take one frantic breath. The cramped bathroom became a swirling blur as I thrust my upper thighs against her cheeks. I would draw my entire shaft back, so that only the cleft tip lay against the point of her tongue—let her spit up the saliva and mucus I drew up from my excursion—and then, while she was still half-gagging, I would plunge deep again, shoving my pubic bone against her button nose.

I let out primal exhalations that modulated into every variation of the word “fuck” imaginable. Ella seemed to be cursing herself for wearing a body suit. Her fingers darted between her legs only to find her slit impossible to reach. “Why didn’t I go as an undead schoolgirl?!” She wondered aloud during one brief respite. “I’m dripping through this cheap fucking polyester.”

“No panties?”

She smiled, a thick droplet of spit breaking off her chin, “Of course not.”

I grinned back, “I don’t think skeletons have clits, so keep your hands up.” I snatched her wrists, held them against the wall and buried my dick inside her throat again. I could nearly feel her pussy squeeze when I denied her. She fucking loved it.

My speed picked up, I pushed her head against the cool wall and watched with hedonistic elation as a waterfall of drool poured down her chin and fell in syrupy dollops across the costume’s fake clavicles. As I pushed even deeper into her windpipe, I felt a warmth that reminded me I really needed to sample her cunt at some point. Her esophagus constricted around me, but it wasn’t tight enough. I reached down to grasp her neck and. with a firm squeeze, I could feel her throat distend as my considerable length descended. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, my wavy hair beginning to stick as I put my skeletal slut to work.

I was getting near to orgasm, my cock ready to pour molten sperm down Ella’s throat when we were interrupted.

---

KNOCK KNOCK

A voice from outside, “Hey, can you hurry up?”

Popping my dick free from Ella’s lips, I snapped my fingers and pointed to my sack. She eagerly disappeared beneath my shaft, sucking each of my balls in turn. I pounded back to the rude interloper, “Occupado, friend. I’ve got a runaway skeleton in here. Having a pretty rough interrogation.”

“Dude, what the fuck is that supposed to–”

“Bye now.”

I don’t know if the other guest disappeared or put their ear to the door out of curiosity. But the second possibility renewed my flailing erection. Rock hard once more, I decided to put on an auditory spectacle for the possible pervert.

“Open wide, sweet cheeks.” I made a show of digging my heels into the copper shag bath mat.

Ella dropped her jaw, but also posed a question, “Is my makeup holding up?”

I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck and thrust forward like a jackhammer. “No.”

It was the cheap, dollar store cream-based stuff. The kind that couldn’t even hope to survive the mixture of sweat, tears, precum, and spit I was creating on Ella’s face.

“But, on the brightside,” I slammed my balls against her chin, leaving an imprint in her makeup, “my cock’ll glow in the dark after this.” My pace became more rhythmic, nearly matching the beat of “Thriller.” I drove my entire length down Ella’s throat, pulled out to my spade-shaped tip and plunged back inside. Over and over and over. 'Cause I can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try. SPLISH

UNGH UNGH UNGH

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy–mmph, mmph, mmph”

“The dead can’t talk–shut up and take it.”

“Mm, mm, mm, gluck, gluck, gluck.”

I was hitting that perfect spot at the back of Ella’s throat now. She had her mouth open wide so each time my cock slammed through it made that perfect fucking slapping sound. The telltale indication of an unfolding facefuck for anyone that was paying attention.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s it, just a little deeper,” I pushed down on Ella’s head until I could feel her wet tongue flicking against my balls. Then I was cumming hard, shooting a thick spray of sperm against the back of her throat just as the distinctive yelp of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins came crashing through the door.

...because you’re mine.

---

Ella swallowed frantically, desperately trying to take down the tablespoon of semen I’d just unloaded into her mouth. I felt a small amount ooze out, crossing over her lips and running down my pulsing shaft. I grunted and groaned and looked down at her proudly as my cock began to soften.

“Well, miss, I’ve cracked the case,” her mouth lips were still wrapped around my now incredibly sensitive cockhead, but her eyes met mine. “You’re not really dead. You’re just a slut.”

She giggled so hard she choked while swallowing my cum. She brought her hand to her mouth as she spat against it.

“Back in your mouth.”

Like a good girl, she licked the spaces between her fingers, catching every last droplet of my seed. She swallowed and then stuck out her clean red tongue.

I stuffed my dick back into my bell-bottoms, but noticed that Ella was shyly rubbing her thighs together. “Something wrong?”

“I’m so fucking horny,” she complained. “Can you–?”

Before she could finish the question, I grabbed her by the arm, pulled her up from the floor, spun her away from me, and pushed her against the nearest wall. There was a zipper on her back, which I pulled down to the small of her back.

My hand pushed inside her bodysuit, wrapped around her waist, and dove between her wet thighs. I smiled, “You aren’t kidding. You’re fucking soaked.”

“Mhm,” she pushed her ass against me, arching her waist away from the wall so that I had more room to maneuver. I ran my index and middle finger along her slip, teasing her lightly before easing my way inside.”

“Unf, more,” she begged.

My fingers curled along her ridges, drawing strands of her juices out of her pussy that I used to lubricate her clit.

“Was I a good girl?”

I snatched a pigtail and pulled Ella’s head backwards, positioning her ear next to my mouth. “You’re always a good girl. You can take my dick like a cumguzzling pro now. And I fucking love when you swallow my load.”

“Mmph, yes, yes.” She closed her eyes. Her breathing grew frantic as I alternated between teasing her clit and plunging inside her cunt.

“I’m–unf, fuck, ah–I’m going to cum on your hand. Is that okay?”

“Do it. Now.” I pushed her cheek against the wall. Then I split my index and middle fingers so they were on either side of her mound, squeezing against her clitoral hood so I could jerk her off. She bit her lip, then tried to cover her mouth just as she came.

“Ahmpf! Fu–!” Her body shook against me. I held her tightly, fingers hovering just outside her entrance, until she calmed down.

“Jesus Christ,” she said as I zipped her back up. “It’s running down to my calves…”

“Good,” I grinned. “Now, let’s get back to the party.”

THWACK

I gave her ass one last smack before zipping her up.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

---

“I’m having a hard time believing you’re a skeleton with an ass like that.”

Ella was dressed in a black, skin tight bodysuit that featured the outlines of a skeleton on the front and back. I might call it a lazy costume if not for her elaborate face makeup, which–like the rest of her costume–glowed in the dark, giving her the luminescent appearance of the risen dead in a dark room. Her wavy, golden locks were pulled into ponytails, which didn’t quite nail the skeletal theme, but they sure were cute.

“Oh? I’m so sorry for ruining your sense of immersion on this, the holiest of holidays.” She pursed her lips at me while placing a grape “eyeball” between them. She sucked on it teasingly before popping it inside her cheek, “Are you trying to solve the mystery of the open grave in Hill Hollow Memorial Cemetery, detective? I promise you I’m not the undead woman you’re looking for.”

My costume really was lazy. I was a “70s private investigator.” It was an excuse to put together an outfit culled from a local thrift shop–and to carry handcuffs, of course. Gotta make those citizen’s arrests. Ella rolled her eyes at my open-collared paisley shirt, but her sarcastic remark was cut short when I grabbed her ass and pointed her towards the narrow hall that led to the bathroom. We’d only been at Tim’s Halloween house party for an hour, but I was ready to get my dick wet.

“Where are we going, Sir?” She stuck out her bottom lip, making it quiver with mock apprehension.

“I’m bringing you in for an oral examination. I have the sneaking suspicion you’re not being honest with me.”

---

I wrapped my hand tautly in one pigtail, flexing my forearm as I pulled her to face me. My wide, hungry eyes fixated on hers as I unzipped my fly and thumbed my boxers down. My rock-solid erection fell with a thick thump, bouncing twice against the bridge of Ella’s nose before resting on her lips.I smiled at her glowing face paint, nearly overcome with the pleasure of watching her sit obediently on her knees while my manhood cast a shadow across her face, leaving behind a trail of sticky precum. It was a graveyard smash.

The thumping dubstep remix of “Monster Mash” gently vibrated the door. A gust of cool air blew through the bathroom’s open window, rippling stray hairs across Ella’s face. I drug my cock up to her forehead and then down to her left cheek, over her nose and then tapping her right cheek.

Finally I pushed it back and forth across the warm wetness of her lips, tracing their curves asI taunted her, “You’ve been a very bad skeleton, running off from the graveyard like that. I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson in burial edicate before I take you home. Now, I expect you to swallow every inch. That means I should see a trail of your spit leading right up to my abdomen. Understand?”

I paused just a beat, shifting my hips back as I prepared to push apart her crooked smile. Now both of my hands were in her hair, treating those golden trestles as handlebars. Her eyes–ringed in deep black and white makeup–met mine as I thrust forward, burying my vein-ensconced member as deep as I could manage in her throat. With anyone else, I might have started out slow, but Ella already knew how to take my dick. The first time]she’d needed a light hand. But she was eager for me to push her harder and now she could comfortably swallow nearly my full length on the first push.

So I was liberated from my inhibitions when I thrust broke through her airlock, plunging my throbbing appendage hard against the back of her throat. She gracefully took me in whole, barely even gagging as I pushed past her tonsils. My hands twisted her pigtails, pulling her hair at its roots.

“Good girl, Ella. You can take it, can’t you?”

“Mphm,” she mumbled with her windpipe stuffed. She looked up at me, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling as they searched for affirmation.

I pushed her head down, “Eyes on my stomach. That’s where your nose should be. I’m gonna fuck your makeup right off.”

“Mhpht?!” She sounded mildly alarmed as I shoved her nostrils to my pubic bone. But whatever vague words she could make were soon replaced by GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK as I began rocking her head back and forth like a toy. Her lips formed a perfect circular suction cup around my shaft, leaving smears of her black lipstick as I pumped her to and fro.

“This is for you, Ella. All for you. Every last millimeter. Suck it all down.” my palm spidered like an egg broken across the crown of her head. my other hand pressed against the eggshell white wall above my eager cocksucker, bent at the forearm so that I could lean my head against the makeshift pillow and really badger her throat. I pushed her back too. Now instead of pumping her head on my cock I had her pressed into the wall. While I fucked her throat with little remorse, her hands pressed into my thighs, squeezing harder, harder, harder.

I was grunting like a caveman, lost in the rough pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it. Deeper.”

I felt the vibrations of her vocal cords moaning and squirming and perhaps even talking. Was that a “help me, Sir” that rang like a beautiful melody in my ears? Sure, I can help you, Ella. Let me just shove my balls against your chin.

Eventually, I gave her enough space between thrusts so that she could take one frantic breath. The cramped bathroom became a swirling blur as I thrust my upper thighs against her cheeks. I would draw my entire shaft back, so that only the cleft tip lay against the point of her tongue—let her spit up the saliva and mucus I drew up from my excursion—and then, while she was still half-gagging, I would plunge deep again, shoving my pubic bone against her button nose.

I let out primal exhalations that modulated into every variation of the word “fuck” imaginable. Ella seemed to be cursing herself for wearing a body suit. Her fingers darted between her legs only to find her slit impossible to reach. “Why didn’t I go as an undead schoolgirl?!” She wondered aloud during one brief respite. “I’m dripping through this cheap fucking polyester.”

“No panties?”

She smiled, a thick droplet of spit breaking off her chin, “Of course not.”

I grinned back, “I don’t think skeletons have clits, so keep your hands up.” I snatched her wrists, held them against the wall and buried my dick inside her throat again. I could nearly feel her pussy squeeze when I denied her. She fucking loved it.

My speed picked up, I pushed her head against the cool wall and watched with hedonistic elation as a waterfall of drool poured down her chin and fell in syrupy dollops across the costume’s fake clavicles. As I pushed even deeper into her windpipe, I felt a warmth that reminded me I really needed to sample her cunt at some point. Her esophagus constricted around me, but it wasn’t tight enough. I reached down to grasp her neck and. with a firm squeeze, I could feel her throat distend as my considerable length descended. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, my wavy hair beginning to stick as I put my skeletal slut to work.

I was getting near to orgasm, my cock ready to pour molten sperm down Ella’s throat when we were interrupted.

---

KNOCK KNOCK

A voice from outside, “Hey, can you hurry up?”

Popping my dick free from Ella’s lips, I snapped my fingers and pointed to my sack. She eagerly disappeared beneath my shaft, sucking each of my balls in turn. I pounded back to the rude interloper, “Occupado, friend. I’ve got a runaway skeleton in here. Having a pretty rough interrogation.”

“Dude, what the fuck is that supposed to–”

“Bye now.”

I don’t know if the other guest disappeared or put their ear to the door out of curiosity. But the second possibility renewed my flailing erection. Rock hard once more, I decided to put on an auditory spectacle for the possible pervert.

“Open wide, sweet cheeks.” I made a show of digging my heels into the copper shag bath mat.

Ella dropped her jaw, but also posed a question, “Is my makeup holding up?”

I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck and thrust forward like a jackhammer. “No.”

It was the cheap, dollar store cream-based stuff. The kind that couldn’t even hope to survive the mixture of sweat, tears, precum, and spit I was creating on Ella’s face.

“But, on the brightside,” I slammed my balls against her chin, leaving an imprint in her makeup, “my cock’ll glow in the dark after this.” My pace became more rhythmic, nearly matching the beat of “Thriller.” I drove my entire length down Ella’s throat, pulled out to my spade-shaped tip and plunged back inside. Over and over and over. 'Cause I can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try. SPLISH

UNGH UNGH UNGH

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy–mmph, mmph, mmph”

“The dead can’t talk–shut up and take it.”

“Mm, mm, mm, gluck, gluck, gluck.”

I was hitting that perfect spot at the back of Ella’s throat now. She had her mouth open wide so each time my cock slammed through it made that perfect fucking slapping sound. The telltale indication of an unfolding facefuck for anyone that was paying attention.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s it, just a little deeper,” I pushed down on Ella’s head until I could feel her wet tongue flicking against my balls. Then I was cumming hard, shooting a thick spray of sperm against the back of her throat just as the distinctive yelp of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins came crashing through the door.

...because you’re mine.

---

Ella swallowed frantically, desperately trying to take down the tablespoon of semen I’d just unloaded into her mouth. I felt a small amount ooze out, crossing over her lips and running down my pulsing shaft. I grunted and groaned and looked down at her proudly as my cock began to soften.

“Well, miss, I’ve cracked the case,” her mouth lips were still wrapped around my now incredibly sensitive cockhead, but her eyes met mine. “You’re not really dead. You’re just a slut.”

She giggled so hard she choked while swallowing my cum. She brought her hand to her mouth as she spat against it.

“Back in your mouth.”

Like a good girl, she licked the spaces between her fingers, catching every last droplet of my seed. She swallowed and then stuck out her clean red tongue.

I stuffed my dick back into my bell-bottoms, but noticed that Ella was shyly rubbing her thighs together. “Something wrong?”

“I’m so fucking horny,” she complained. “Can you–?”

Before she could finish the question, I grabbed her by the arm, pulled her up from the floor, spun her away from me, and pushed her against the nearest wall. There was a zipper on her back, which I pulled down to the small of her back.

My hand pushed inside her bodysuit, wrapped around her waist, and dove between her wet thighs. I smiled, “You aren’t kidding. You’re fucking soaked.”

“Mhm,” she pushed her ass against me, arching her waist away from the wall so that I had more room to maneuver. I ran my index and middle finger along her slip, teasing her lightly before easing my way inside.”

“Unf, more,” she begged.

My fingers curled along her ridges, drawing strands of her juices out of her pussy that I used to lubricate her clit.

“Was I a good girl?”

I snatched a pigtail and pulled Ella’s head backwards, positioning her ear next to my mouth. “You’re always a good girl. You can take my dick like a cumguzzling pro now. And I fucking love when you swallow my load.”

“Mmph, yes, yes.” She closed her eyes. Her breathing grew frantic as I alternated between teasing her clit and plunging inside her cunt.

“I’m–unf, fuck, ah–I’m going to cum on your hand. Is that okay?”

“Do it. Now.” I pushed her cheek against the wall. Then I split my index and middle fingers so they were on either side of her mound, squeezing against her clitoral hood so I could jerk her off. She bit her lip, then tried to cover her mouth just as she came.

“Ahmpf! Fu–!” Her body shook against me. I held her tightly, fingers hovering just outside her entrance, until she calmed down.

“Jesus Christ,” she said as I zipped her back up. “It’s running down to my calves…”

“Good,” I grinned. “Now, let’s get back to the party.”

THWACK

I gave her ass one last smack before zipping her up.

"Why the do you have so many costumes?"

I wasn't sure if Kylee could hear me. She was fully inside her walk-in closet, the upper part of her torso completely inside a large trunk, so that all I could see were her hips wiggling to and fro as she rummaged around a rather colorful looking collection of fabrics.

"Hm?" She paused for a second, popped her head out, and looked over her shoulder at me. Her thick curls bouncing wildly as she held up various hats, accessories, and what appeared to be crop tops in every possible color.

"I told you, Jay, I'm very serious about Halloween. And, like, dressing up in general. I love costumes."

Of course, it was only August. Mid-August. And yet here we were, in Kylee's expansive bedroom--me sitting on her four-poster bed while she dug around in the closet big enough to be its own bedroom--while she pulled out various potential costumes for this year.

And it wasn't just one costume she was looking for either.

"I need one for Halloween, obviously," she told me, "but also Halloween Eve, plus a few for any parties I go to leading up to Halloween."

"You can't wear the same costume a few times?"

When I asked this rather obvious question, she responded with something like revulsion, as though she was offended the thought had even entered my head.

Apparently, I had forgotten just how into Halloween Kylee was. But I wasn't complaining, it meant getting to watch her try on all manner of costumes, from slutty nurse to slutty devil to slutty bunny to slutty cop to slutty...well, most professions really.

"Do you have any costumes that aren't slutty? Like, can you be just a ninja, rather than a slutty ninja?"

She rolled her eyes at me as she straightened the tight red top she was currently trying on. "First of all, this is for my slutty Red Riding Hood costume, not my slutty ninja costume. Second of all, I can see you getting hard from over here you know."

I was not embarrassed.

"I bet you want to see my tits, don't you?"

"You've literally been teasing me with them for, like, this entire thing."

"Me? Teasing you? I would never do such a thing." But, of course, as she said that she leaned forward and pushed her forearms together underneath her chest.

"Unbelievable," I leaned back, spreading my legs so that Kylee could see the thick tent forming against my dark jeans. I let my hand slide into my lap. "Well, actually, very believable. This is just like you."

She grinned at me, leaning forward further and swaying gently from side to side, so that I could watch her tits shift.

"You know me--I like it when your cock is throbbing hard, when you can barely think about anything other than what you'd like to be doing to me right now." There was an intentional whine in her voice as she spoke. Her eyes flicked from mine to my thick erection.

"Come here." She did. On her hands and knees. Crawling towards me in nothing but that black and white sports bra and a matching black miniskirt. She swayed her hips and kept her elbows inward to emphasize her chest as she approached me, stopping with her lips mere inches from my groin.

"That's what I thought." I pushed my middle finger into her mouth. "And is it throbbing?"

Kylee put her hand against my pants and slowly began to stroke. "Mmmm, I can feel it." Her voice was more half a moan now.
"You can't feel it very well that way, though, can you?"

"No I can't..."

"So you better do something about that, huh?"

Her doe eyes stayed locked on mine as she unzipped my pants. My cock was pounding against my black boxer briefs, pushing upwards as she opened my fly. Eyes still locked on mine, she wrapped both of her hands over my waistband and slowly pulled it down.

My thick cock thumped against Kylee's cheek. "Is this what you wanted, hm? You wanted it fucking hard?"

"Mhm," she opened her mouth, letting me thwack my cock against her outstretched tongue. "I wanted it rock hard."

"Why's that? You wanna taste?"

"I wanna suck it. I wanna taste your precum. Look how much precum you're dripping from being teased." She started licking my bulging cockhead, her long tongue wrapping around the rim, her lips sliding over my tip, sucking me while she stared into my eyes.

I shoved my hand down the tight red top, forcing the top two latches to break open. Kylee's tits pushed upwards as my hand found her right nipple. I rolled it back and forth and it was as though I flipped a switch. She was bobbing on my shaft, sucking it rapidly. I could see a ring of spit midway up it. She pushed it further each time, doing her best to throat me, getting closer and closer to my balls.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

The perfect noises. God, Kylee was so good at it. She knew how hard it made me to hear her gagging around my cock, so she made a point to make those noises more pronounced. I rolled her nipple more firmly--a sign of how much I was enjoying what she was doing. She responded by pushing her top down and rolling the other nipple with her own hand.

I stood up while keeping my hand behind her head, pushed in deeper, felt her hard nipples grazing against my thighs. "Push them together."

"You wanna fuck my tits, sir?" She always used "sir" when she was really trying to rile me up. It worked like a charm. Every time.

"I don't want to, I need to."

She bit her lip as I grabbed my cock at the hilt and directed it downwards, pushing the spit-covered shaft between her tits. Pumping upwards. Slapping against her outstretched tongue. More saliva dripped down. Precum too. A mess of stickiness that I drew back into Kylee's cleavage.

"Fuuuuck," it was almost. too much to see her like this--one her knees, mouth open, tits together. She was bouncing on her heels. I knew she must be soaking. "Wet?"

"Mhm," she answered as my cock slapped against her tongue again.

"Touch yourself. I'll hold your tits."

And she did. Her hand sinking between her thighs, diving inward, running along her pussy, before pulling back towards her clit, using that wetness as lubricant. She rubbed in endless circles as I held her tits tight around my cock, pumping in and out, my swollen, reddened cockhead throbbing against her tongue. I dragged a thick strand of precum from her lips down into her cleavage, then pushed it into her mouth on the next thrust.

"Fuck, I can't last long like this. Are you close?"

"Mhm, mhm. So, so wet. Warm. Ugh."

She leaned forward, squeezing her fingers inside of herself and then drawing up more sticky wetness. I pumped faster and she responded in kind. She was actively drooling down her chest now, her tongue sticking out, tasting my precum at the apex of each thrust. Closer, closer, closer.

"Ugh!"

Timed perfectly.

A sticky rope of cum shooting against her tongue just as her body tensed, a rollicking orgasm playing scampering up her spine as my cock pulsed between her tits. I dragged my cum back into her cleavage, shot another rope, smeared it upwards. By the time we were both finished my cum ran from her chin all the way down to her belly button.

My cock softened and fell away from her chest, hanging limply against my inner thigh.

Kylee looked up at me, cum glistening on her chin. "Mhm, well, ah, yeah, you kind of ruined that costume."

"Guess you won't be going as Red Riding Hood."

"Guess you'll be buying me a new costume."

I chuckled, "I mean, that's fair. Spirit just opened up in that weird, dead strip mall off I-15."

"A field trip then." She sat back on her heels, looking up at me with a sparkling chest and glistening thighs.

"Indeed. A field trip."

"Maybe I'll even let you pick out the new costume. Or, at least, I'll entertain your opinion."

"That's really all I can ask Kylee."

One finger.

Isn’t that how it starts?

I tell you, without a hint of irony, “Just the tip, babe, what’s the problem?”

“But there are people around…” You squirm, whine. Wanting it but putting up a play fight.

“Nobody’ll know. Spread your legs a little, let me see those thighs.”

There’s a reason I like you in skirts. In dresses. In anything that can be hiked up to your waist. That one finger starting at your bare knee. Though, sometimes you wear thigh-highs or tights or fishnets. So I tease you–just like you tease me. Why’d you wear that today, huh? Trying to get me hard? Want me to show you how much I need to fucking tear it off you?

Lemme stretch the fabric. Pretend like I’m going to rip it. Sometimes I do. And then you’ll pout, but only for a minute, your brain a blank slate of need as soon as I drag my digit along your thong. Well, when you wear one, that is. Sometimes you’re bad. Or maybe just over-eager. I push my hand along your thigh to find nothing impeding my progress towards your slit.

“No thong today?”

You bite your lip and try to look innocent. Bat your pretty eyes at me and act like you forgot.

“You didn’t fucking forget. You wanted to feel the fucking ocean breeze against your pussy. You were hoping that I’d find you like this.”

Oh, you’ll protest and act like that couldn’t possibly be true. But you’ll shut up as soon as my index finger is spreading your folds, knocking at your entrance, pushing its way in–isn’t that wetness enough of an invitation?

Look at me while I do it. Keep those big round eyes on mine. I wanna watch them go wide as I push slowly inside you. Watch you close ‘em, squirm, and hold ‘em. Once I’m two knuckles in I’ll double-back, following a similar path to exit with a rude little flick. Back in. A few more times. Until I stop to let you catch your breath–you’re getting so fucking noisy, aren’t you? I’ll pull free of your reflexive grip and slowly raise my hand to your mouth.

“Suck it. Tastes like a bad fucking girl.”

And god do you ever suck it. Like a famished, desperate little thing. Sweet and tangy and salty. When you get into it, I mean, you really get into it. Sucking my finger like it’s my cock. Spit across my cuticle. Drool over my knuckle. The tactile bump of your tastebuds over each distinct line.

Two fingers.

That’s all it takes to make you absolutely simmer with need. Two fingers in your pussy. Index. Middle. Spreading just enough to fill you up. Dragging back and forth intermittently. Slowly. Steadily. Deliberately.

This is when you have to spread your legs wider. Put your feet up on your seat and let me get deeper. Deeper. Deeper still. You know my fingers are long and I like to push ‘em in right up to my palm. And when I get going you start to get so noisy you have to bite on your sweater or I have to squeeze your neck just enough to shut you up. Do you want everyone to hear you sounding so desperately insatiable? Surely not. Actually, let’s be honest, I know that thought turns you on too.

Your thighs glisten. Your moans quicken. My fingers dart in and out, leaving prints all along the walls of your cunt. That’s what makes it mine, right? Let me leave my marks. Let me gesture come hither along the anterior until I hit the spot. Then flick outwards again, making a V as I squeeze on either side of your tumescent clit. Push your folds together around that needy nub, making it jump. Making you fidget.

Three fingers?

Think you can take that?

Sometimes you can. Other times you just beg for me to replace my hand with my dick. It’s hard. Of course it’s hard for you. And if we were somewhere quieter I’d be bending you over, squeezing your ass with these slick hands and fucking you bareback. But we’re not, so quit begging and wait. You’ll cum one way or another, won’t you? I always make sure of that. Whether with my tongue, or a toy, or–quite simply–with a single, solitary finger.

And yeah, maybe I should punish you differently. With a belt or a paddle or some other tool. But, you know me, I really like to work with my hands. I like to be direct. Like to feel you myself. Like to make you learn the location of every little callous. Because, ultimately, what I want is for you to buck and moan and writhe and twist.

So do it for me now. Don’t be shy. You can bite my ear as you cum against my wrist.

---

This is an invitation to chat. You in?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

************************

"Why the do you have so many costumes?"

I wasn't sure if Kylee could hear me. She was fully inside her walk-in closet, the upper part of her torso completely inside a large trunk, so that all I could see were her hips wiggling to and fro as she rummaged around a rather colorful looking collection of fabrics.

"Hm?" She paused for a second, popped her head out, and looked over her shoulder at me. Her thick curls bouncing wildly as she held up various hats, accessories, and what appeared to be crop tops in every possible color.

"I told you, Jay, I'm very serious about Halloween. And, like, dressing up in general. I love costumes."

Of course, it was only August. Mid-August. And yet here we were, in Kylee's expansive bedroom--me sitting on her four-poster bed while she dug around in the closet big enough to be its own bedroom--while she pulled out various potential costumes for this year.

And it wasn't just one costume she was looking for either.

"I need one for Halloween, obviously," she told me, "but also Halloween Eve, plus a few for any parties I go to leading up to Halloween."

"You can't wear the same costume a few times?"

When I asked this rather obvious question, she responded with something like revulsion, as though she was offended the thought had even entered my head.

Apparently, I had forgotten just how into Halloween Kylee was. But I wasn't complaining, it meant getting to watch her try on all manner of costumes, from slutty nurse to slutty devil to slutty bunny to slutty cop to slutty...well, most professions really.

"Do you have any costumes that aren't slutty? Like, can you be just a ninja, rather than a slutty ninja?"

She rolled her eyes at me as she straightened the tight red top she was currently trying on. "First of all, this is for my slutty Red Riding Hood costume, not my slutty ninja costume. Second of all, I can see you getting hard from over here you know."

I was not embarrassed.

"I bet you want to see my tits, don't you?"

"You've literally been teasing me with them for, like, this entire thing."

"Me? Teasing you? I would never do such a thing." But, of course, as she said that she leaned forward and pushed her forearms together underneath her chest.

"Unbelievable," I leaned back, spreading my legs so that Kylee could see the thick tent forming against my dark jeans. I let my hand slide into my lap. "Well, actually, very believable. This is just like you."

She grinned at me, leaning forward further and swaying gently from side to side, so that I could watch her tits shift.

"You know me--I like it when your cock is throbbing hard, when you can barely think about anything other than what you'd like to be doing to me right now." There was an intentional whine in her voice as she spoke. Her eyes flicked from mine to my thick erection.

"Come here." She did. On her hands and knees. Crawling towards me in nothing but that black and white sports bra and a matching black miniskirt. She swayed her hips and kept her elbows inward to emphasize her chest as she approached me, stopping with her lips mere inches from my groin.

"That's what I thought." I pushed my middle finger into her mouth. "And is it throbbing?"

Kylee put her hand against my pants and slowly began to stroke. "Mmmm, I can feel it." Her voice was more half a moan now.
"You can't feel it very well that way, though, can you?"

"No I can't..."

"So you better do something about that, huh?"

Her doe eyes stayed locked on mine as she unzipped my pants. My cock was pounding against my black boxer briefs, pushing upwards as she opened my fly. Eyes still locked on mine, she wrapped both of her hands over my waistband and slowly pulled it down.

My thick cock thumped against Kylee's cheek. "Is this what you wanted, hm? You wanted it fucking hard?"

"Mhm," she opened her mouth, letting me thwack my cock against her outstretched tongue. "I wanted it rock hard."

"Why's that? You wanna taste?"

"I wanna suck it. I wanna taste your precum. Look how much precum you're dripping from being teased." She started licking my bulging cockhead, her long tongue wrapping around the rim, her lips sliding over my tip, sucking me while she stared into my eyes.

I shoved my hand down the tight red top, forcing the top two latches to break open. Kylee's tits pushed upwards as my hand found her right nipple. I rolled it back and forth and it was as though I flipped a switch. She was bobbing on my shaft, sucking it rapidly. I could see a ring of spit midway up it. She pushed it further each time, doing her best to throat me, getting closer and closer to my balls.

Gluck, gluck, gluck.

The perfect noises. God, Kylee was so good at it. She knew how hard it made me to hear her gagging around my cock, so she made a point to make those noises more pronounced. I rolled her nipple more firmly--a sign of how much I was enjoying what she was doing. She responded by pushing her top down and rolling the other nipple with her own hand.

I stood up while keeping my hand behind her head, pushed in deeper, felt her hard nipples grazing against my thighs. "Push them together."

"You wanna fuck my tits, sir?" She always used "sir" when she was really trying to rile me up. It worked like a charm. Every time.

"I don't want to, I need to."

She bit her lip as I grabbed my cock at the hilt and directed it downwards, pushing the spit-covered shaft between her tits. Pumping upwards. Slapping against her outstretched tongue. More saliva dripped down. Precum too. A mess of stickiness that I drew back into Kylee's cleavage.

"Fuuuuck," it was almost. too much to see her like this--one her knees, mouth open, tits together. She was bouncing on her heels. I knew she must be soaking. "Wet?"

"Mhm," she answered as my cock slapped against her tongue again.

"Touch yourself. I'll hold your tits."

And she did. Her hand sinking between her thighs, diving inward, running along her pussy, before pulling back towards her clit, using that wetness as lubricant. She rubbed in endless circles as I held her tits tight around my cock, pumping in and out, my swollen, reddened cockhead throbbing against her tongue. I dragged a thick strand of precum from her lips down into her cleavage, then pushed it into her mouth on the next thrust.

"Fuck, I can't last long like this. Are you close?"

"Mhm, mhm. So, so wet. Warm. Ugh."

She leaned forward, squeezing her fingers inside of herself and then drawing up more sticky wetness. I pumped faster and she responded in kind. She was actively drooling down her chest now, her tongue sticking out, tasting my precum at the apex of each thrust. Closer, closer, closer.

"Ugh!"

Timed perfectly.

A sticky rope of cum shooting against her tongue just as her body tensed, a rollicking orgasm playing scampering up her spine as my cock pulsed between her tits. I dragged my cum back into her cleavage, shot another rope, smeared it upwards. By the time we were both finished my cum ran from her chin all the way down to her belly button.

My cock softened and fell away from her chest, hanging limply against my inner thigh.

Kylee looked up at me, cum glistening on her chin. "Mhm, well, ah, yeah, you kind of ruined that costume."

"Guess you won't be going as Red Riding Hood."

"Guess you'll be buying me a new costume."

I chuckled, "I mean, that's fair. Spirit just opened up in that weird, dead strip mall off I-15."

"A field trip then." She sat back on her heels, looking up at me with a sparkling chest and glistening thighs.

"Indeed. A field trip."

"Maybe I'll even let you pick out the new costume. Or, at least, I'll entertain your opinion."

"That's really all I can ask Kylee."

It started in the parking lot of the old Video Treasure--now as thoroughly defunct as the very idea of renting a physical movie. Knee-high weeds pushed up through the cracked asphalt. Crushed cigarette butts and faded and torn VHS covers spread along the perimeter. And a single car--yours--parked at the far end, right where the parking lot collapsed into the dense Brush Creek Forest.

You stepped out of your Honda, clad purely in black (that goth skirt and fishnets, just like I asked), save for cream scrunchie holding your hair in a high bun.

It began just like we discussed.

I parked around the corner, so you wouldn't know where to expect me from. It was 5 PM. Still plenty of time before sunset. I let you linger in the parking lot for a beat, your eyes likely scanning every direction, looking for any sign of me. Then I stepped out from the indent that housed Video Treasure's emergency exit. Staring at you in my dark navy pants and stark white mask.

The space between us was electric with tension. You drew backwards, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a step forward. Then another. Slow, but consistent. You kept backing up, bumped into your car. Moved around it. Stumbled over the curb.

"Wha-what are you doing? Who are you?"

Of course you knew who I was, but you were good at playing your role. Close enough now that your eyes were looking for mine. I watched your pupils searching my mask, looking for some semblance of humanity. Stark and empty. Just a few feet from you now. Close enough to lunge and grab...

"I think you oughta--"

I lunged. Cut you by the hair, twist my hand, pulling it tightly around my fist, drawing you backwards a half-step. I could smell the slight, floral scent of your perfume. I slid my hand along your upper thigh, pushing my finger under one of the webs of the fishnet, stretching it.

SCRITCH

Ripping it.

"Ah! What are you--?!" You tried to wriggle free but I turned my hand in your hair clockwise again, pulling your body back against mine, my fingers now tangled in your roots. Pulling backwards at your scalp, I forced you to look up at me, to stare into the black eyeholes of my mask. Empty voids. I was much larger than you, which was patently obvious as I pushed my body against yours, my throbbing erection pressing against your ass.

"Tell me," finally, I spoke, my mask pressed right against your ear, "why did you come out here dressed like such a slut?"

"I'm--I'm not dressed like a slut..." your voice weak and bewildered as you twisted helplessly in my grip.

I shoved you forward. You feel on your hands and knees in the dirt patch where the parking lot ended. It was just enough force to make your skirt ride up, revealing a tiny cream thong--matching your scrunchie--beneath your fishnets.

"Is that why you're wearing that tiny thong?" I made a point to noisily began to unbuckle my belt, so that you knew what was coming.

But just as I begin to push my fly open you scrambled to your feet and made off at a run, the dead leaves crunching beneath your flats. I let out a huff of satisfaction as I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. Time for a chase.

I didn't run. I didn't have to. I knew you'd run out of breath soon enough. Get lost. Turned around. Maybe trip over a fallen log or stumble through a low creek bed. Anyway, I knew you weren't really trying to get away, but it must have made your heart pound to look over your shoulder and see me clambering after you, just far enough away to make you think you had a shot.

It was that looking back that did you in. You stumbled down a slight slope, foot searching for even ground but not finding it. You splashed through a creek, water up to your ankles. Then fell forward onto the opposite bank.

I vaulted over a fallen trees, crushed dead leaves, and snapped twigs as I closed the distance. Quickly enough I was straddling you, shadow cast along your small body as you tried to get to your feet. I crouched down, pushing my weight against you, and grabbed you by the nape of your neck.

"Now you're mine."

*SCRITCH*

Hand under your skirt, ripping your fishnets apart. Fingers pressed flat against the underside of your thong. I could feel the wet warmth.

"Soaking fucking wet." I taunted you, dragging my fingers along the smooth fabric, teasing at the sides, barely brushing your lips.

"No you can't--"

I cut you off, "Then why are you so wet, hm?" I curled my finger under the band of your thong and pulled back until it ripped too. You tried to struggle but I held you tight, shoving you against the ground as I pushed my index and middle finger inside your dripping pussy.

"Hear that?" I taunted, "Sounds like a needy fucking slut."

You didn't bother to argue. Your words melted into a moan, whining as I pushed deeper inside of you. I gripped your top knot with my other hand, pulling you backwards as I shoved my fingers inside your pussy. In and out, making sloppy wet noises as you dripped into my palm.

You were on all fours, with me kneeling beside you, fingerfucking you, making your tits bounce so much they popped out of your tube top. I didn't miss the opportunity. My hand from your hair to your nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, making you whine ever more desperately. I drew wetness from your pussy and began to tease your clit in firm, fast circles. I knew you were going to cum soon, could already tell from the way your whines were growing higher in pitch.

"Ah! Ah!" There it was. Your entire body shuddering against my hands, grip tighter, holding you in place as you squeezed your thighs around my fingers.

"Oh fuck, fuck, sensi--" before you could finish your sentence my cock was out and pushing against your slit. I shoved it in, feeling you absolutely coat me in simmering need.

SMACK

One hand grabbing and smacking your ass while the other pulled back on your hair, manhandling you, keeping you in place while I made your tits bounce from how fucking hard I pushed inside of you. I wasn't going to last long, but didn't need to, you were already drawing towards another orgasm.This time you were rubbing your clit. Endless circles as I made your pussy stretch around my thick shaft.

You shivered and clenched against me again and I responded by shooting ropes of thick cum inside your desperate pussy. I kept fucking you, balls slapping against your labia as I pushed my cum deeper and deeper.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it," my voice a jumble of grunts as I filled you up.

Then, it was over.

My cock slipping out of you, followed closely by a sticky glob of cum landing in the brittle leaves. We both stayed there catching our breath. I gripped your ass as I came down, then finally removed my mask. Tossed it aside. Pulled you into my lap.

"Good girl." Soft. Hand scratching the back of your head, bringing you back to me. "Such a good girl."

Sometimes that's all you need: a reminder that you're not a slut, but my slut. And, no matter how hard you like to take it, I'll always make sure you're safe.

It would appear that I've made the small but potentially serious mistake of getting wrapped up with a coven of witches that worships big dicks.

I met Rae at Grimm's Fables, my favorite of the local bookstores. It was situated in an old, slightly dilapidated brownstone on the Upper West Side. Its two floors were a sprawling madness of dusty books and vintage oddities. I had never seen a single "New York Times Bestseller" or any book that looked remotely like it was published after 1975. I stopped by regularly on my walk back from the train after work, usually ending up with a first (and probably only) edition of a book I'd never heard of and that certainly wasn't documented on Goodreads.

Rae and I crossed paths a few times and had a few friendly chats. She was relatively tall, thin, and had long black hair. Frankly, she looked like a goth. The type of person you'd expect to be in a bookshop that was run by a self-identifying wizard. Despite our friendly conversation--she was often paging through the herbalism books--I was still surprised when she accosted me one Friday to invite me to a party.

"Well, it's not exactly a party. Kind of. My friends and I are celebrating the Autumn Equinox. It's harvest season. A very important time. Would you like to come?"

It was the sort of bizarre offer that couldn't have happened anywhere else. And how could I refuse? I'd never been to a celebration of the Autumn Equinox.

***

This was apparently a poor decision. Or a good one. I'm not sure yet.

***

I arrived at the address, which was an innocuous looking apartment located just above a bodega. The strangeness happened when I knocked on the door. A short, redhead--dressed all in black--answered, "Hi, I'm Luna, you must be Quinn. Rae told us all about you."

"Oh, yeah? Cool, okay. I'm just--"

"Here, have this," another girl appeared. She had frizzy blonde hair, was quite short, and looked rather shy. She was stuffing a shot glass into my hand. It popped. Fizzed. Smoked.

"This is Jules, don't mind her, she's shy."

"And this is?" I said, holding up the shot, which was a rather concerning, dark black color.

"Witch's Brew! It's a fun shot. Fitting for the season."

And so, while Luna, Jules, and Rae (who had just appeared from another room) watched me, I downed the shot.

***

“Holy fuck, you were right about him, Rae. Look at that cock."

I was feeling warm and fuzzy, zoning out to the rather interesting, if esoteric, music--Leah called it "neo-folk pagan revivalism"--when that particular sentence piqued my interest.

I looked at Luna–whose soft green eyes were wide–and then at my pant leg, which was bulging as though I had developed a new appendage.

"It's like halfway down your thigh. Jules, c’mere and look at Quinn’s hard on."

Jules popped her head into the living room where Luna, Rae, and I were drinking and listening to the scratchy vinyl. She covered her mouth in mock shock, shaking her head back and forth and smiling. "It's just like you said, Rae." Her voice was small, soft, but also oddly serious.

"Um, I'm not sure what to say about this." I did not, in fact, know how to talk myself out of what felt like a rapidly escalating situation.

***

ZIP

Somehow, Jules, the shy one, ended up kneeling on the plush carpet between my legs, lips grazing along my pants.

"Is this real?" I wondered aloud, though no one bothered to answer me.

After undoing my belt, she pulled my zipper down, and helped me pull my jeans to my knees. She wrapped her hands around the hem of my boxer briefs and pulled slowly, looking me in the eyes while she did so.

My cock sprung upwards and then fell to the side. Rae and Luna both gasped with delight. 

“Huge!” Rae exclaimed.

“Okay, okay. Make sure it’s hard and then lick it. From balls to tip,” Luna instructed.

“Mhm.” Jules wrapped her hand around the base of my shaft and held me up straight. “Hold on, this’ll help.” She spit into her palm and started rubbing me. I flexed my thighs, trying to avoid making an expression that would betray the pleasure I was feeling.

“Oh, there it goes,” she said in awe.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking hard now.”

“Lick it!” Luna demanded.

I didn't quite understand the dynamic unfolding around me, but Jules did exactly as Leah said. She leaned forward, sticking out her soft, wet tongue and slowly drawing it along my absolutely pounding erection. She was slow. Deliberate. Apparently determined to memorize every vein as she slowly came to my tip and then--

"Suck it." It was Rae's mellow but stern voice. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching intently.

Luna was on the couch opposite me, her legs spread, her finger lazily hanging between her thighs, teasing the crotch of her denim shorts. "That it, Jules. Suck him. I wanna watch you suck his big dick." Leah's voice wavered slightly. She unbuttoned the shorts. Slid her hand inside the open fly.

My eyes darted from Luna to Jules, who was busy fitting her mouth around my thick-rimmed tip.

Jules' eyes--which were a tremendously icy blue--met mine for a second, but quickly flitted away. She closed them tight while she worked her way past my tip, her tongue running along the underside of my shaft.

"What a good girl, there you go, Jen. Take it deeper. Come on. You can do more. I can see it in your eyes. You're not choking nearly hard enough yet." Luna stood up, pushed her shorts down, and stepped out of them. She was in a simple, black lace thong. She walked towards us slowly, her fingertip teasing the hem of her panties as she approached. She stopped so that she was standing above Jules and looked from her to me. Without saying a word, she grabbed the back of Jules' head and applied a gentle pressure. I felt her throat loosen slightly as she swallowed more of me.

Rae's hands were running along my shoulder blades. Oh, she's behind me now. When did that happen? And wait--she's naked? She walked around me, running her index finger down my collar bone, then climbed onto my lap, sitting her ass against the topside of my cock, so that it was directly between her cheeks. Jules didn't stop sucking, only modifying her movement so that she could keep working my cock while Rae's ass pressed against her nose.

After a few seconds, Rae reached behind her back, grabbed Jule's hair and held her down, "That's it. Be a good girl and gag on that big dick. Just the way you'll gag on our Master's. Swallow it, honey." Jules started sputtering against me. "There you go. Quinn--" she shot me a stern look, "tell Jen what a good fucking girl she is."

"Fuck," I groaned, leaning back, spreading my legs wider.

Luna was sitting down behind Jules now and had her hands under her shirt. I could feel the vibrations of Jules' moans as Luna teased her nipples.

"Good girl," I managed, though I was barely coherent at this point.

"She is such a good girl," Luna agreed. She was rolling Jules' nipples back and forth while Rae kept her head pressed into my lap.

"I think she's going to be great," Rae said, apparently speaking to Luna.

"I know she will be. Just a little more practice--here."

Luna's hands joined Rae's on Jules' head. They were both pressing down now. Holding her there. She started to sputter against me, a web of saliva erupting from her lips.

Rae climbed off my lap and knelt next to Luna. They both looked up at me--eyes rather black now--while holding Jules down. "Fuck her face, Quinn," they said in unison, "and cum in her mouth."

"You know you've been thinking about it," Luna continued. "I saw the way you looked at Jules when she introduced herself. You wanted to grab her by the hair and fuck her right there, didn't you?"

I nodded, grunting, "Fuck, yes, I did."

GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK

They were working Jules like a fleshlight on my cock. Rae's dark eyes locked on mine, "And I know you've been dreaming of fucking me too. You rubbed your cock last night while thinking about bending me over in the bookstore. You want to spank my ass with a Lovecraft paperback."

"Fuck! Yes, I do!" My cock was throbbing. So close. I pushed their hands away and grabbed Jules for myself, fingers threading through her light, frizzy hair.

"Yes, yes, that's it." They both slid closer, kissing and licking my thighs, taking turns sucking at my balls.

"Mmph, mmph, gluck, mmph," Jules made filthy noises as I bounced her on my cock. She seemed to be begging for my cum. Her eyes demanding it. Wet. Needy. Fuck. I had to give it to her--

UNGHHHHHH

So fucking much. It spilled out of her mouth. Cum running down her chin even as I tried to hold her down.

"That's it! Fuck. Fill her mouth, Quinn, she needs your cum. We all need your cum." Luna was bouncing up and down, her tits pressed against Jules. I wanted to grab her next. Wanted to shut her up. Wanted to push my cock down her throat too. But I those thoughts evaporated as I throbbed, shooting rope after rope of hot, sticky semen into Jules' waiting mouth. But she didn't swallow.

Once I was done, she slowly pulled off my cock and opened her mouth wide, showing me the puddle of cum on her tongue. Then, proudly, she swallowed it all, bowed, and said, "Thank you, Sir."

I had no idea what was going on. It felt ominous. But...I also wasn't finished.

Rae had her hand on her clit. She was rubbing it while watching my cock slowly soften. "He wants to fuck you, Luna. You know that?"

"Of course he does." She turned around, sitting on all fours, pushing her ass proudly in the air as if to tease me. "He wants all of my holes."

Rae leaned back, her voice wavering as she neared orgasm.

Jules finally spoke, sounding much more steady than before, "Flip the record, Luna. It's time for the Black Mass."

It started in the parking lot of the old Video Treasure--now as thoroughly defunct as the very idea of renting a physical movie. Knee-high weeds pushed up through the cracked asphalt. Crushed cigarette butts and faded and torn VHS covers spread along the perimeter. And a single car--yours--parked at the far end, right where the parking lot collapsed into the dense Brush Creek Forest.

You stepped out of your Honda, clad purely in black (that goth skirt and fishnets, just like I asked), save for cream scrunchie holding your hair in a high bun.

It began just like we discussed.

I parked around the corner, so you wouldn't know where to expect me from. It was 5 PM. Still plenty of time before sunset. I let you linger in the parking lot for a beat, your eyes likely scanning every direction, looking for any sign of me. Then I stepped out from the indent that housed Video Treasure's emergency exit. Staring at you in my dark navy pants and stark white mask.

The space between us was electric with tension. You drew backwards, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a step forward. Then another. Slow, but consistent. You kept backing up, bumped into your car. Moved around it. Stumbled over the curb.

"Wha-what are you doing? Who are you?"

Of course you knew who I was, but you were good at playing your role. Close enough now that your eyes were looking for mine. I watched your pupils searching my mask, looking for some semblance of humanity. Stark and empty. Just a few feet from you now. Close enough to lunge and grab...

"I think you oughta--"

I lunged. Cut you by the hair, twist my hand, pulling it tightly around my fist, drawing you backwards a half-step. I could smell the slight, floral scent of your perfume. I slid my hand along your upper thigh, pushing my finger under one of the webs of the fishnet, stretching it.

SCRITCH

Ripping it.

"Ah! What are you--?!" You tried to wriggle free but I turned my hand in your hair clockwise again, pulling your body back against mine, my fingers now tangled in your roots. Pulling backwards at your scalp, I forced you to look up at me, to stare into the black eyeholes of my mask. Empty voids. I was much larger than you, which was patently obvious as I pushed my body against yours, my throbbing erection pressing against your ass.

"Tell me," finally, I spoke, my mask pressed right against your ear, "why did you come out here dressed like such a slut?"

"I'm--I'm not dressed like a slut..." your voice weak and bewildered as you twisted helplessly in my grip.

I shoved you forward. You feel on your hands and knees in the dirt patch where the parking lot ended. It was just enough force to make your skirt ride up, revealing a tiny cream thong--matching your scrunchie--beneath your fishnets.

"Is that why you're wearing that tiny thong?" I made a point to noisily began to unbuckle my belt, so that you knew what was coming.

But just as I begin to push my fly open you scrambled to your feet and made off at a run, the dead leaves crunching beneath your flats. I let out a huff of satisfaction as I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. Time for a chase.

I didn't run. I didn't have to. I knew you'd run out of breath soon enough. Get lost. Turned around. Maybe trip over a fallen log or stumble through a low creek bed. Anyway, I knew you weren't really trying to get away, but it must have made your heart pound to look over your shoulder and see me clambering after you, just far enough away to make you think you had a shot.

It was that looking back that did you in. You stumbled down a slight slope, foot searching for even ground but not finding it. You splashed through a creek, water up to your ankles. Then fell forward onto the opposite bank.

I vaulted over a fallen trees, crushed dead leaves, and snapped twigs as I closed the distance. Quickly enough I was straddling you, shadow cast along your small body as you tried to get to your feet. I crouched down, pushing my weight against you, and grabbed you by the nape of your neck.

"Now you're mine."

*SCRITCH*

Hand under your skirt, ripping your fishnets apart. Fingers pressed flat against the underside of your thong. I could feel the wet warmth.

"Soaking fucking wet." I taunted you, dragging my fingers along the smooth fabric, teasing at the sides, barely brushing your lips.

"No you can't--"

I cut you off, "Then why are you so wet, hm?" I curled my finger under the band of your thong and pulled back until it ripped too. You tried to struggle but I held you tight, shoving you against the ground as I pushed my index and middle finger inside your dripping pussy.

"Hear that?" I taunted, "Sounds like a needy fucking slut."

You didn't bother to argue. Your words melted into a moan, whining as I pushed deeper inside of you. I gripped your top knot with my other hand, pulling you backwards as I shoved my fingers inside your pussy. In and out, making sloppy wet noises as you dripped into my palm.

You were on all fours, with me kneeling beside you, fingerfucking you, making your tits bounce so much they popped out of your tube top. I didn't miss the opportunity. My hand from your hair to your nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, making you whine ever more desperately. I drew wetness from your pussy and began to tease your clit in firm, fast circles. I knew you were going to cum soon, could already tell from the way your whines were growing higher in pitch.

"Ah! Ah!" There it was. Your entire body shuddering against my hands, grip tighter, holding you in place as you squeezed your thighs around my fingers.

"Oh fuck, fuck, sensi--" before you could finish your sentence my cock was out and pushing against your slit. I shoved it in, feeling you absolutely coat me in simmering need.

SMACK

One hand grabbing and smacking your ass while the other pulled back on your hair, manhandling you, keeping you in place while I made your tits bounce from how fucking hard I pushed inside of you. I wasn't going to last long, but didn't need to, you were already drawing towards another orgasm.This time you were rubbing your clit. Endless circles as I made your pussy stretch around my thick shaft.

You shivered and clenched against me again and I responded by shooting ropes of thick cum inside your desperate pussy. I kept fucking you, balls slapping against your labia as I pushed my cum deeper and deeper.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it," my voice a jumble of grunts as I filled you up.

Then, it was over.

My cock slipping out of you, followed closely by a sticky glob of cum landing in the brittle leaves. We both stayed there catching our breath. I gripped your ass as I came down, then finally removed my mask. Tossed it aside. Pulled you into my lap.

"Good girl." Soft. Hand scratching the back of your head, bringing you back to me. "Such a good girl."

Sometimes that's all you need: a reminder that you're not a slut, but my slut. And, no matter how hard you like to take it, I'll always make sure you're safe.

It started in the parking lot of the old Video Treasure--now as thoroughly defunct as the very idea of renting a physical movie. Knee-high weeds pushed up through the cracked asphalt. Crushed cigarette butts and faded and torn VHS covers spread along the perimeter. And a single car--yours--parked at the far end, right where the parking lot collapsed into the dense Brush Creek Forest.

You stepped out of your Honda, clad purely in black (that goth skirt and fishnets, just like I asked), save for cream scrunchie holding your hair in a high bun.

It began just like we discussed.

I parked around the corner, so you wouldn't know where to expect me from. It was 5 PM. Still plenty of time before sunset. I let you linger in the parking lot for a beat, your eyes likely scanning every direction, looking for any sign of me. Then I stepped out from the indent that housed Video Treasure's emergency exit. Staring at you in my dark navy pants and stark white mask.

The space between us was electric with tension. You drew backwards, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a step forward. Then another. Slow, but consistent. You kept backing up, bumped into your car. Moved around it. Stumbled over the curb.

"Wha-what are you doing? Who are you?"

Of course you knew who I was, but you were good at playing your role. Close enough now that your eyes were looking for mine. I watched your pupils searching my mask, looking for some semblance of humanity. Stark and empty. Just a few feet from you now. Close enough to lunge and grab...

"I think you oughta--"

I lunged. Cut you by the hair, twist my hand, pulling it tightly around my fist, drawing you backwards a half-step. I could smell the slight, floral scent of your perfume. I slid my hand along your upper thigh, pushing my finger under one of the webs of the fishnet, stretching it.

SCRITCH

Ripping it.

"Ah! What are you--?!" You tried to wriggle free but I turned my hand in your hair clockwise again, pulling your body back against mine, my fingers now tangled in your roots. Pulling backwards at your scalp, I forced you to look up at me, to stare into the black eyeholes of my mask. Empty voids. I was much larger than you, which was patently obvious as I pushed my body against yours, my throbbing erection pressing against your ass.

"Tell me," finally, I spoke, my mask pressed right against your ear, "why did you come out here dressed like such a slut?"

"I'm--I'm not dressed like a slut..." your voice weak and bewildered as you twisted helplessly in my grip.

I shoved you forward. You feel on your hands and knees in the dirt patch where the parking lot ended. It was just enough force to make your skirt ride up, revealing a tiny cream thong--matching your scrunchie--beneath your fishnets.

"Is that why you're wearing that tiny thong?" I made a point to noisily began to unbuckle my belt, so that you knew what was coming.

But just as I begin to push my fly open you scrambled to your feet and made off at a run, the dead leaves crunching beneath your flats. I let out a huff of satisfaction as I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. Time for a chase.

I didn't run. I didn't have to. I knew you'd run out of breath soon enough. Get lost. Turned around. Maybe trip over a fallen log or stumble through a low creek bed. Anyway, I knew you weren't really trying to get away, but it must have made your heart pound to look over your shoulder and see me clambering after you, just far enough away to make you think you had a shot.

It was that looking back that did you in. You stumbled down a slight slope, foot searching for even ground but not finding it. You splashed through a creek, water up to your ankles. Then fell forward onto the opposite bank.

I vaulted over a fallen trees, crushed dead leaves, and snapped twigs as I closed the distance. Quickly enough I was straddling you, shadow cast along your small body as you tried to get to your feet. I crouched down, pushing my weight against you, and grabbed you by the nape of your neck.

"Now you're mine."

*SCRITCH*

Hand under your skirt, ripping your fishnets apart. Fingers pressed flat against the underside of your thong. I could feel the wet warmth.

"Soaking fucking wet." I taunted you, dragging my fingers along the smooth fabric, teasing at the sides, barely brushing your lips.

"No you can't--"

I cut you off, "Then why are you so wet, hm?" I curled my finger under the band of your thong and pulled back until it ripped too. You tried to struggle but I held you tight, shoving you against the ground as I pushed my index and middle finger inside your dripping pussy.

"Hear that?" I taunted, "Sounds like a needy fucking slut."

You didn't bother to argue. Your words melted into a moan, whining as I pushed deeper inside of you. I gripped your top knot with my other hand, pulling you backwards as I shoved my fingers inside your pussy. In and out, making sloppy wet noises as you dripped into my palm.

You were on all fours, with me kneeling beside you, fingerfucking you, making your tits bounce so much they popped out of your tube top. I didn't miss the opportunity. My hand from your hair to your nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, making you whine ever more desperately. I drew wetness from your pussy and began to tease your clit in firm, fast circles. I knew you were going to cum soon, could already tell from the way your whines were growing higher in pitch.

"Ah! Ah!" There it was. Your entire body shuddering against my hands, grip tighter, holding you in place as you squeezed your thighs around my fingers.

"Oh fuck, fuck, sensi--" before you could finish your sentence my cock was out and pushing against your slit. I shoved it in, feeling you absolutely coat me in simmering need.

SMACK

One hand grabbing and smacking your ass while the other pulled back on your hair, manhandling you, keeping you in place while I made your tits bounce from how fucking hard I pushed inside of you. I wasn't going to last long, but didn't need to, you were already drawing towards another orgasm.This time you were rubbing your clit. Endless circles as I made your pussy stretch around my thick shaft.

You shivered and clenched against me again and I responded by shooting ropes of thick cum inside your desperate pussy. I kept fucking you, balls slapping against your labia as I pushed my cum deeper and deeper.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it," my voice a jumble of grunts as I filled you up.

Then, it was over.

My cock slipping out of you, followed closely by a sticky glob of cum landing in the brittle leaves. We both stayed there catching our breath. I gripped your ass as I came down, then finally removed my mask. Tossed it aside. Pulled you into my lap.

"Good girl." Soft. Hand scratching the back of your head, bringing you back to me. "Such a good girl."

Sometimes that's all you need: a reminder that you're not a slut, but my slut. And, no matter how hard you like to take it, I'll always make sure you're safe.

It started in the parking lot of the old Video Treasure--now as thoroughly defunct as the very idea of renting a physical movie. Knee-high weeds pushed up through the cracked asphalt. Crushed cigarette butts and faded and torn VHS covers spread along the perimeter. And a single car--yours--parked at the far end, right where the parking lot collapsed into the dense Brush Creek Forest.

You stepped out of your Honda, clad purely in black (that goth skirt and fishnets, just like I asked), save for cream scrunchie holding your hair in a high bun.

It began just like we discussed.

I parked around the corner, so you wouldn't know where to expect me from. It was 5 PM. Still plenty of time before sunset. I let you linger in the parking lot for a beat, your eyes likely scanning every direction, looking for any sign of me. Then I stepped out from the indent that housed Video Treasure's emergency exit. Staring at you in my dark navy pants and stark white mask.

The space between us was electric with tension. You drew backwards, looking at me with wide eyes. I took a step forward. Then another. Slow, but consistent. You kept backing up, bumped into your car. Moved around it. Stumbled over the curb.

"Wha-what are you doing? Who are you?"

Of course you knew who I was, but you were good at playing your role. Close enough now that your eyes were looking for mine. I watched your pupils searching my mask, looking for some semblance of humanity. Stark and empty. Just a few feet from you now. Close enough to lunge and grab...

"I think you oughta--"

I lunged. Cut you by the hair, twist my hand, pulling it tightly around my fist, drawing you backwards a half-step. I could smell the slight, floral scent of your perfume. I slid my hand along your upper thigh, pushing my finger under one of the webs of the fishnet, stretching it.

SCRITCH

Ripping it.

"Ah! What are you--?!" You tried to wriggle free but I turned my hand in your hair clockwise again, pulling your body back against mine, my fingers now tangled in your roots. Pulling backwards at your scalp, I forced you to look up at me, to stare into the black eyeholes of my mask. Empty voids. I was much larger than you, which was patently obvious as I pushed my body against yours, my throbbing erection pressing against your ass.

"Tell me," finally, I spoke, my mask pressed right against your ear, "why did you come out here dressed like such a slut?"

"I'm--I'm not dressed like a slut..." your voice weak and bewildered as you twisted helplessly in my grip.

I shoved you forward. You feel on your hands and knees in the dirt patch where the parking lot ended. It was just enough force to make your skirt ride up, revealing a tiny cream thong--matching your scrunchie--beneath your fishnets.

"Is that why you're wearing that tiny thong?" I made a point to noisily began to unbuckle my belt, so that you knew what was coming.

But just as I begin to push my fly open you scrambled to your feet and made off at a run, the dead leaves crunching beneath your flats. I let out a huff of satisfaction as I pulled up my pants and buttoned them. Time for a chase.

I didn't run. I didn't have to. I knew you'd run out of breath soon enough. Get lost. Turned around. Maybe trip over a fallen log or stumble through a low creek bed. Anyway, I knew you weren't really trying to get away, but it must have made your heart pound to look over your shoulder and see me clambering after you, just far enough away to make you think you had a shot.

It was that looking back that did you in. You stumbled down a slight slope, foot searching for even ground but not finding it. You splashed through a creek, water up to your ankles. Then fell forward onto the opposite bank.

I vaulted over a fallen trees, crushed dead leaves, and snapped twigs as I closed the distance. Quickly enough I was straddling you, shadow cast along your small body as you tried to get to your feet. I crouched down, pushing my weight against you, and grabbed you by the nape of your neck.

"Now you're mine."

*SCRITCH*

Hand under your skirt, ripping your fishnets apart. Fingers pressed flat against the underside of your thong. I could feel the wet warmth.

"Soaking fucking wet." I taunted you, dragging my fingers along the smooth fabric, teasing at the sides, barely brushing your lips.

"No you can't--"

I cut you off, "Then why are you so wet, hm?" I curled my finger under the band of your thong and pulled back until it ripped too. You tried to struggle but I held you tight, shoving you against the ground as I pushed my index and middle finger inside your dripping pussy.

"Hear that?" I taunted, "Sounds like a needy fucking slut."

You didn't bother to argue. Your words melted into a moan, whining as I pushed deeper inside of you. I gripped your top knot with my other hand, pulling you backwards as I shoved my fingers inside your pussy. In and out, making sloppy wet noises as you dripped into my palm.

You were on all fours, with me kneeling beside you, fingerfucking you, making your tits bounce so much they popped out of your tube top. I didn't miss the opportunity. My hand from your hair to your nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, making you whine ever more desperately. I drew wetness from your pussy and began to tease your clit in firm, fast circles. I knew you were going to cum soon, could already tell from the way your whines were growing higher in pitch.

"Ah! Ah!" There it was. Your entire body shuddering against my hands, grip tighter, holding you in place as you squeezed your thighs around my fingers.

"Oh fuck, fuck, sensi--" before you could finish your sentence my cock was out and pushing against your slit. I shoved it in, feeling you absolutely coat me in simmering need.

SMACK

One hand grabbing and smacking your ass while the other pulled back on your hair, manhandling you, keeping you in place while I made your tits bounce from how fucking hard I pushed inside of you. I wasn't going to last long, but didn't need to, you were already drawing towards another orgasm.This time you were rubbing your clit. Endless circles as I made your pussy stretch around my thick shaft.

You shivered and clenched against me again and I responded by shooting ropes of thick cum inside your desperate pussy. I kept fucking you, balls slapping against your labia as I pushed my cum deeper and deeper.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it," my voice a jumble of grunts as I filled you up.

Then, it was over.

My cock slipping out of you, followed closely by a sticky glob of cum landing in the brittle leaves. We both stayed there catching our breath. I gripped your ass as I came down, then finally removed my mask. Tossed it aside. Pulled you into my lap.

"Good girl." Soft. Hand scratching the back of your head, bringing you back to me. "Such a good girl."

Sometimes that's all you need: a reminder that you're not a slut, but my slut. And, no matter how hard you like to take it, I'll always make sure you're safe.

You always went to the same place.

The nature preserve off Sandy Lane. It was a single lane gravel road that terminated in a dense, spiraling forest. A dirt parking lot just big enough for a handful of cars--and never full.

You always got here just before sunset. 6:30. Sometimes 7. Early enough for it to still be light out when you started but late enough that the sky was normally a darkened orange hue when you finished.

You would alter your path every time, but you had a system. Left on Mondays. Right on Tuesdays. Center on Wednesdays. Repeat or reverse.

I liked timing you. Sitting in my dusty off-white pickup while you disappeared into the tree cover. Listening to an audiobook while I waited. It was usually 45-ish minutes later that you'd reemerge. Much sweatier. Panting. Red in the face. Hair slick. But looking satisfied.

Every time you came out--I couldn't help but imagine you looking that way after I got my hands on you.

So, today, I didn't wait in the parking lot.

I followed you.

Just like you wanted.

We discussed. Made an arrangement.

Still, an exact appointment didn't quite carry the excitement you were looking for. We found a visual way to communicate without explicitly setting a date. Anytime you wore the bright pink matching set--the skin tight yoga shorts and complementary sports bra barely containing your tits--meant you were ready to be hunted.

Today was one of those days.

Along with the matching set, you had your hair up in a high ponytail. It swayed like a pendulum--as if it was counting down the seconds until I reached you--while you disappeared into the preserve. Your ass bounced with each lilting step. Blood rushed south.

This was going to be fun.

I got out of the truck, my Danners leaving distinct prints in the dusty earth as I followed after you. But I didn't run; I knew I didn't have to. I saw just enough of you to know that you were taking the left-hand path today and I knew exactly where I could cut you off. It meant straying from the path, walking through the brush, and crossing a narrow stream.

While stepping over a dead log, I could see you through the swaying pine trees, rounding a bend, AirPods in. You wouldn't hear my boots crunching over fallen twigs. Probably wouldn't even notice me pulling down the mask--ghostly, black and white, classic. It matched the rest of my outfit: the dark jeans and long-sleeve black and grey flannel. Black gloves too, with rubber on the fingertips--perfect for grabbing you.

I got into position, sidling up to the path--still hidden by the foliage--as you came jogging towards me. It was overcast today. Dark, wavy clouds hung low in the sky. They threatened rain, but, for now, gave me more cover as dusk sank towards night.

You passed. Didn't even notice me despite being a mere arms-length from you. I stepped onto the path, lunged forward, wrapped my arm around your waist, my other hand snapping shut over your mouth. Your brain must have immediately went into fight mode. You struggled against me, but I heaved you up easily, dragging you into the brush. I shoved you against a tree, the branches rattling over our heads.

"Shut up." Muffled but gruff from behind my mask. I was pressed against you, staring into your eyes, your back against the tree while my palm still covered your mouth. "This can be easy. If you keep quiet."

Your eyes wide, but knowing. I wanted this fast and rough. My free hand shot under your sports bra, thumb and forefinger twisting your nipples--hard--as you pleaded against my palm.

"I said 'shut up'," I twisted harder, eliciting a little yelp of pain. Still teasing your nipple, I pushed my index finger into your mouth, making you taste the slick leather and rough rubber. "There it is, gag like a good little slut. This is nothing."

Then I was pulling your top up, grabbing both tits, rolling your nipples before shoving you to your knees. You fell into the crumpled leaves with only a modicum of resistance. I already had my cock out--thick and fucking throbbing--barely giving you the time to register it before I was shoving it into your mouth. I kept one hand pressed firmly onto your crown while the other grasped your neck, holding you tight while I fucked your mouth.

Drool pooled along the underside of my shaft, eventually pouring over your bottom lip, pouring thickly down your chin. You looked up at me, eyes wet, blinking, all you saw was the mask looking back. You tried pushing back against my thighs, but I only held you tighter, made you take it further, my balls starting to slap wetly against your chin.

It was fortunate that no one was walking past. They might have seen us through the brush: you with your tits out, on your knees, swallowing my cock and me above you, holding you, making you fucking take it.

Satisfied with the saliva coating my shaft, I gave you a break, pulled out as you exhaled and gasped. I thumped my cock against your cheeks. Your forehead. Spit and precum smearing across your reddened, pretty face.

"Get up," but I didn't give you the choice. I grasped you under your armpits and hoisted you back to your feet, spun you around, snatched the stretchy hem of your tight yoga shorts and yanked them down. There it was--your perfect fucking ass. Round and peachy. And no thong? How convenient.

SMACK

Gloved hand against your ass. The sound echoed. Loud.

I left the shorts around your knees to constrict your movement.

SMACK

Again. You tried to stifle a whine.

Even in the approaching dark, I could see your pussy glistening between your thighs.

And it was going to be mine.

SMACK

Ass bouncing as I positioned my spit-slick shaft against your dripping slit. Felt you moan and press against me. You weren't even pretending to hide your need now. I leaned forward, grasping one of your nipples with my hand as I plunged inside of you. Deep and fast. All the way. Balls against your labia.

Again.

Again.

Over and over. Plunging inside of you. Pounding your pussy as you grasped onto the bark of the tree. Nails digging in.

Again.

Again.

One hand teasing your nipple, the other grasping your ass like I fucking owned it.

Pounding. That noise. My cock stretching your pussy. Wet slapping. Flesh against flesh. Your legs held tightly together, your pussy clenching me. You were going to cum. I knew it. Going to cum all fucking over my cock.

I kept going. Pushing you there. You let out a small cry as your body flexed against my hands. Shivering. Shaking. I held you up. Kept going. Came as yours slowed down. Pumping it inside of you. Hot, sticky cum. Rope after rope. Filling your pussy. Couldn't stop. Kept fucking it inside of you even when there was nothing left. Kept going as my cock began to soften.

Finally. Flaccid. Falling out. Watched as cum dripped into the leaves. Red hand marks on your ass.

I left you like that--shorts still halfway down, sports bra pulled up--and disappeared back into the brush.

I gave it some time, ditched my costume, and returned to you after you had pulled yourself back together as much as possible. I could still a wet spot on your shorts now--from either my cum or your pussy or both. You looked up at me and smiled dreamily. Hug. Kiss on the forehead.

"You did so good."

I wrapped my arm around your waist and walked you back.

Rubbed your shoulders. Held you tight in the parking lot.

Looking down at you, no more mask. "Is that the way you wanted it?"

"It was perfect."

It was dark now. We would meet back at your apartment. I was still turned on. "Maybe we should do it again at your place?"

You grinned, "Take me like you need me."

Will do.

I forgot all about the dildo.

After the whole shebang in Latter Day Restraints--talk about a core memory--I didn't see Kylee for a few weeks. Her parents whisked her off on some tropical, end-of-summer vacation. She sent me some pictures. The sun was good to her. More swimsuits. How many did this girl own?

But I wasn't complaining. Not about the sparkly blue one or the navy and white stripe high cut number. Definitely not about the black and white racerback or the hot shorts. I guess if I was going to spend two weeks cruising around Aruba or Galapagos or whatever, I'd want a expansive collection of nylon too.

It was a bit odd being apart for that long. It's not like we were seeing each other every day during the summer, but it had become an extremely regular thing. So, Kylee's luxurious vacation gave me the opportunity to reflect upon on much I enjoyed her company. Not just when I had my fingers inside of her, but when we were just shooting the shit, staring at the ceiling and arguing about whether Hawk or Major Garland was the best Twin Peaks side character.

Fortunately, Kylee returned a few days before the Fall semester began with a vengeance. We were back in a whirlwind of rolling around, getting undressed, groping each other, and watching Twin Peaks or grabbing ice cream afterwards. In a word: exquisite. It wasn't until the third day of our glorious reunion that Kylee remembered the pink dildo.

She was in my lap, grinding her clit against my pounding erection, her lips on mine, when she spoke against me, "Wait--the dildo!" She practically leapt out of my lap and bounded--completely nude--to her closet. She dug inside for what felt like a solid minute while I watched, cock in hand, slowly stroking it. It wasn't a bad view: Kylee was on all fours while she dug around in her closet, giving me an unobstructed view of her ass as she bobbed around.

"Ah!" With a yelp of victory, she lifted the pink dildo over her head and came bounding back to me.

"So we're really doing this, huh?" I grabbed the base of the toy, feeling its heft in my hand.

"I didn't buy it for nothing. I want to feel it inside of me."

This was not the kind of request I was going to question. Kylee laid beside me on the bed and spread her legs apart while I snatched the lube from the nightstand. We worked as a team: I pumped some of the lube into my palm and began rubbing it along Kylee's pussy--which was already quite wet--and Kylee did the same to the dildo.

"Mhm, ah, that looks pretty good, right?" She asked between moans, my hand alternating between cupping her pussy and running circles around her clit.

"Definitely," I nodded as Kylee slid the toy between her thighs, pausing as she pressed the thick tip against her lips.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

"Absolutely." I moved my hand from her pussy to the toy, grasping it midway up the shaft and ever so gently pushing it forward.

"Ah," she let out a satisfied moan as her lips spread, making way for the dildo. I took it slow. The tip disappeared inside her, then an inch or so of the shaft. I pulled it out slightly and could see that it was already sticky with Kylee's wetness. Then, back in, a little deeper this time. I continued doing this for a little while, leaning in and kissing Kylee at the same time. Deep and long. Tongue over tongue. She reached blindly for my cock, started pumping it, the lube allowing her to glide over me.

Eventually, she broke from the kiss and looked down, perhaps comparing my cock to the dildo. I was pumping it inside her at a slow but steady pace.

"Your clit," I advised, using my free hand to tease her raised nipple while she sank her hand between her thighs. "There it is," I nodded.

She moaned lightly as I picked up speed. The dildo was around eight inches and I had half of it inside of her. "You chose a big one for your first time," I chuckled.

"Well, it's similar to your size, isn't it?"

I think I actually blushed. And so turned on that I increased the speed, the depth. Kylee's pussy was making wet noises now--the kind that I could never quite make with just my fingers. She looked up at me, biting her lips while circling her clit. I teased and tweaked her nipple, rubbed it with my thumb. I knew she was going to cum soon.

She was gushing. Panting. Whining. Flexing against me.

I pushed in deeper, felt her wet lips against my hand, and then--

"Ah! Ah!" She shivered, shook. I kept pumping as she came, her body writing and grinding against the toy. It was a long one, rumbling shock waves from her core to her fingertips and toes. Finally, it slowed and I gently withdrew the dildo.

"Whew," she sighed, "that was a good one."

"Yeah it was." We both looked down at the dildo--slick and sticky from Kylee's pussy--and then to my cock. Without missing a beat, Kylee leaned into my lap, taking my thick tip between her lips, flicking and licking a long strand of precum that was dripping down my shaft.

It didn't take long for her to take me deep. She pushed her head into my lap, trying to swallow as much of my thick cock as she could. Stuck her tongue out and nearly reached my balls. It was like that--deep and slow. She left rings of spit around my shaft. I ran my hands through her hair, then let it sit there, my grip slowly growing more firm as she pushed me towards orgasm.

"Agh!" There it was. My cock convulsing in her mouth, shooting hot ropes of cum over her tongue. I fucking loved it when she tasted me. She she swallowed my load. And she always did so eagerly, sucking me harder as I pumped her mouth full.

When it was done--when my cock finally stopped throbbing in her wet mouth--she looked up at me, opened wide, and smiled, "All gone."

"Like such a good girl."

She rolled over beside me. I watched my flaccid cock sitting against my inner thigh, "So, how did it feel?"

"Mm, good. I felt so full. And it was hitting places that I suppose you can't reach with your fingers."

I nodded, "They're only so long and nimble, Kylee."

She giggled, "That thing definitely isn't nimble. But it felt great. I think we'll have to do that again soon."

"You'll full of great ideas, you know that?"

She wiggled her hips happily and smiled, "Duh. I'm basically brilliant."

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

************

I forgot all about the dildo.

After the whole shebang in Latter Day Restraints--talk about a core memory--I didn't see Kylee for a few weeks. Her parents whisked her off on some tropical, end-of-summer vacation. She sent me some pictures. The sun was good to her. More swimsuits. How many did this girl own?

But I wasn't complaining. Not about the sparkly blue one or the navy and white stripe high cut number. Definitely not about the black and white racerback or the hot shorts. I guess if I was going to spend two weeks cruising around Aruba or Galapagos or whatever, I'd want a expansive collection of nylon too.

It was a bit odd being apart for that long. It's not like we were seeing each other every day during the summer, but it had become an extremely regular thing. So, Kylee's luxurious vacation gave me the opportunity to reflect upon on much I enjoyed her company. Not just when I had my fingers inside of her, but when we were just shooting the shit, staring at the ceiling and arguing about whether Hawk or Major Garland was the best Twin Peaks side character.

Fortunately, Kylee returned a few days before the Fall semester began with a vengeance. We were back in a whirlwind of rolling around, getting undressed, groping each other, and watching Twin Peaks or grabbing ice cream afterwards. In a word: exquisite. It wasn't until the third day of our glorious reunion that Kylee remembered the pink dildo.

She was in my lap, grinding her clit against my pounding erection, her lips on mine, when she spoke against me, "Wait--the dildo!" She practically leapt out of my lap and bounded--completely nude--to her closet. She dug inside for what felt like a solid minute while I watched, cock in hand, slowly stroking it. It wasn't a bad view: Kylee was on all fours while she dug around in her closet, giving me an unobstructed view of her ass as she bobbed around.

"Ah!" With a yelp of victory, she lifted the pink dildo over her head and came bounding back to me.

"So we're really doing this, huh?" I grabbed the base of the toy, feeling its heft in my hand.

"I didn't buy it for nothing. I want to feel it inside of me."

This was not the kind of request I was going to question. Kylee laid beside me on the bed and spread her legs apart while I snatched the lube from the nightstand. We worked as a team: I pumped some of the lube into my palm and began rubbing it along Kylee's pussy--which was already quite wet--and Kylee did the same to the dildo.

"Mhm, ah, that looks pretty good, right?" She asked between moans, my hand alternating between cupping her pussy and running circles around her clit.

"Definitely," I nodded as Kylee slid the toy between her thighs, pausing as she pressed the thick tip against her lips.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

"Absolutely." I moved my hand from her pussy to the toy, grasping it midway up the shaft and ever so gently pushing it forward.

"Ah," she let out a satisfied moan as her lips spread, making way for the dildo. I took it slow. The tip disappeared inside her, then an inch or so of the shaft. I pulled it out slightly and could see that it was already sticky with Kylee's wetness. Then, back in, a little deeper this time. I continued doing this for a little while, leaning in and kissing Kylee at the same time. Deep and long. Tongue over tongue. She reached blindly for my cock, started pumping it, the lube allowing her to glide over me.

Eventually, she broke from the kiss and looked down, perhaps comparing my cock to the dildo. I was pumping it inside her at a slow but steady pace.

"Your clit," I advised, using my free hand to tease her raised nipple while she sank her hand between her thighs. "There it is," I nodded.

She moaned lightly as I picked up speed. The dildo was around eight inches and I had half of it inside of her. "You chose a big one for your first time," I chuckled.

"Well, it's similar to your size, isn't it?"

I think I actually blushed. And so turned on that I increased the speed, the depth. Kylee's pussy was making wet noises now--the kind that I could never quite make with just my fingers. She looked up at me, biting her lips while circling her clit. I teased and tweaked her nipple, rubbed it with my thumb. I knew she was going to cum soon.

She was gushing. Panting. Whining. Flexing against me.

I pushed in deeper, felt her wet lips against my hand, and then--

"Ah! Ah!" She shivered, shook. I kept pumping as she came, her body writing and grinding against the toy. It was a long one, rumbling shock waves from her core to her fingertips and toes. Finally, it slowed and I gently withdrew the dildo.

"Whew," she sighed, "that was a good one."

"Yeah it was." We both looked down at the dildo--slick and sticky from Kylee's pussy--and then to my cock. Without missing a beat, Kylee leaned into my lap, taking my thick tip between her lips, flicking and licking a long strand of precum that was dripping down my shaft.

It didn't take long for her to take me deep. She pushed her head into my lap, trying to swallow as much of my thick cock as she could. Stuck her tongue out and nearly reached my balls. It was like that--deep and slow. She left rings of spit around my shaft. I ran my hands through her hair, then let it sit there, my grip slowly growing more firm as she pushed me towards orgasm.

"Agh!" There it was. My cock convulsing in her mouth, shooting hot ropes of cum over her tongue. I fucking loved it when she tasted me. She she swallowed my load. And she always did so eagerly, sucking me harder as I pumped her mouth full.

When it was done--when my cock finally stopped throbbing in her wet mouth--she looked up at me, opened wide, and smiled, "All gone."

"Like such a good girl."

She rolled over beside me. I watched my flaccid cock sitting against my inner thigh, "So, how did it feel?"

"Mm, good. I felt so full. And it was hitting places that I suppose you can't reach with your fingers."

I nodded, "They're only so long and nimble, Kylee."

She giggled, "That thing definitely isn't nimble. But it felt great. I think we'll have to do that again soon."

"You'll full of great ideas, you know that?"

She wiggled her hips happily and smiled, "Duh. I'm basically brilliant."

Waverly Pines would be the perfect spot to finally do it.

It was out in the sticks—way down County Road 73. Formerly a farm of some sort, it now served as the seasonal home of the titular haunt. Every mid-September through October 31 it opened with a sizzling air of anticipation. It was the only haunt within 50 or so miles of Monroeville, so, naturally, all the thrill-seekers were drawn to it.

The orange string lights lined the private drive that splintered off 73 and wound through the trees to the shadowy field that served as a parking lot. From there, attendees were ushered on a hayride to haunt itself, which was set even further back from the main road, buried beyond the tightly-packed dirt path in a little enclave among the pines.

There was the central square that served as a hub prior to the haunt proper. There was a bar serving White Claws and “spooky” cocktails, an escape room, various small games like hatchet throwing and a dunk tank, and a motley crew of costumed actors wandering around for “Insta-worthy” photo ops.

The haunt itself was long and labyrinthine. It was unique because it offered various split paths, which encouraged going through more than once. There was the blood-drenched farmhouse, the big red barn housing all manner of torture devices as well as a massive, two-story slide, a spiraling corn maze with enough dead ends to trap any drunken goth girl, and a back woods area complete with hanging corpses and Blair Witch-esque trappings.

While you would have the benefit of being able to take the normal route to the haunt—I’d have to be more creative. Sneaking in meant parking in a dirt patch off the main road and traipsing through dead, crunchy soybean fields. I’d slip in, dressed appropriately as a psychopathic killer, and blend with the rest of the costumed crew. There, I’d find you, make sure I got you some place suitably private and finally do every fucking thing I’ve been fantasizing about doing to you.

---

It may be July, but it's always Halloween in my heart.

I like to chat with my partners. If that isn’t your vibe, then we probably won’t get along.

Yes, please: haunted houses and their attendant dollar-store decorations, sexual tension, imaginative domination/submission, impact play (spanking, slapping, etc.), fingering, degradation/humiliation, name-calling, very sloppy facefucking, dubcon/blackmail/noncon, cunnilingus, intense/rough sex, gagging/choking, manipulation/corruption, outercourse, overwhelming urges, cumplay, facials, sexy outfits/partially-clothed sex/torn clothing/costumes and a sense of humor.

No: underage characters, incest, animals, scat/watersports, snuff, people with no chill.

---

If you’re reading this sentence it must mean that this prompt is still very much open.

"What's your favorite scary movie, Eve?"

"....."

I could hear her breathing heavily as I crouched in the bushes outside her dining room window. I peeked through it, observing a curiously well-lit, but empty house. The mask seriously constrained my peripheral vision, so I had to turn my head slowly from side to side in order to scan scene.

There she is.

She walked across the doorway that led from the dining room to the kitchen. Stopping in front of my field of view, she leaned over the kitchen island. She was short, with dyed purple hair and a series of tattoos running up her legs, which I could see because she was wearing only an oversized button-up oxford and (presumably) a pair of panties.

The way it worked was simple. The clients scheduled an appointment during certain blocks of time where they'd be home alone (or at another mutually agreed upon location). To maintain the element of surprise, I chose when to arrive during those blocks of time. There was always a pre-scene discussion--handled by our perky secretary, Amy--about what acts were on the table, what the safe word would be, and how rough or not, the client wanted it. Given the way Eve was dressed, I could see that she was hoping I'd swing by on this cool, Thursday evening. And here I was, calling her from right outside her window, my free hand already running lazily along my burgeoning erection.

The excitement was always there for me. Every scene was different. Every "victim" unique. Sure, I had repeats, but they were always looking for a new thrill. And Eve was a new one: a "virgin" to this rather underground--but, hey, totally safe, if not exactly OSHA-compliant--business.

I watched as she twirled a lock of copper hair around her finger. She glanced around nervously, but didn't catch me watching her hips sway back and forth.

"Um, I really like In the Mouth of Madness."

"Color me surprised. A Carpenter film that isn't Halloween? I think I have a verifiable horror fan on my hands." I slowly moved away from the window and slipped around to the rear of the house. Eve's place was situated in a rather spacious suburb, with a privacy-fenced yard and ample space that made what was about to unfold rather easy.

"Not everyone is so basic."

"So, were you watching a scary movie tonight?"

She hesitated, "Not exactly..."

"What does that mean?"

I could tell she was biting her lip, "Well, it was horror-adjacent..."

"Ah, one of those PG-13 thrillers?"

"It was certainly thrilling."

"Would it hurt you to be explicit?"

"Ah, you could say it was explicit too." There was a slight whine to her voice now.

I smirked, "Hm, it sounds like you've been watching porn."

"Mmph, maybe a little bit."

I peeked in through the patio door and saw her still bent over the countertop.

"Enough to get your pussy wet?"

She squeezed her thighs together. "Uh-huh. A little bit."

"What happened in the last video you watched?"

The hand that was previously coiled in her hair disappeared beneath her shirt. "It was this Halloween-themed one. This girl was home alone after a costume party. She was getting ready for a shower when this guy broke in--"

"Oh no, anything but that," my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You're funny. He grabbed her from behind when she was halfway out of her witch costume and started fucking her right there in the bathroom while the water was running."

"A nice mix of Scream and Psycho."

"Exactly."

"But how did he fuck her? Describe it for me."

"Like, more details...?"

"Yes, Eve, say more."

"...How do you know my name?"

I was standing right outside her patio door now. My voice dropped a semi-tone, "I'm the one asking the questions, Eve. And I asked you to tell me exactly how this little slut was getting fucked. You can do that, can't you?"

I watched as Even wrapped one foot behind the other, her toes pressing against the back of her heel as she gripped the side of the island. It seemed like she was almost deliberately choosing not to look over her shoulder. If she did, she would see me, standing at her door, watching her hips sway slowly from side to side.

"Um, I, well, he--"

"You were a lot more articulate a few seconds ago. Did you forget how to talk?"

"No, I just--"

"You know, I'm really starting to lose patience. If you're not going to tell me what happened in this video, I might have to find other ways to...enjoy myself."

"Wh-what does that mean?"

"The problem, Eve, is that you've got me all excited about this porn video you were watching but you refuse to tell me about it."

"So...what? You want me to help you get you off or something?" There was a slight break at the end of the sentence, as if she was holding back a moan.

"That's one way to put it."

There was a long pause, "...what's another way to put it?"

I smirked, "Well, the way I see it, Eve, is that--since you're not going to tell me about this video--I could just reenact the fantasy you've given me instead."

"What's that supposed to--"

I opened the door, bolted through the living room--leaping over the coffee table and nearly tripping over an end table in the process--

Eve let out a scream, scrambled towards the other entrance to the kitchen and, well, didn't make it very far.

I wrapped a gloved hand around her neck and pushed another one in her hair. I pulled her back, spinning her around and bending her over the kitchen island she just fled from.

"What are you doing?! Stop! I'm--"

She shut up when I bent her over the island, pressing her cheek to the cold granite while one hand slid beneath her oversized button-up. Suddenly, I had a handful of a perfectly round ass. I grabbed it. Dug my gloved fingertips into it. Pulled back. Smacked it.

"Smack my ass!" Eve was huffing, panting, "I mean--do-don't smack my ass, please!"

"Shut up, slut," I pushed her a little harder against the countertop, my hand sliding along her thong, feeling the hem that barely contained her labia. I hooked my finger over the thin fabric and could feel how fucking warm she was.

"Someone's fucking wet."

"No-not me."

"Then who, huh?"

SMACK

"Ah! Please!"

SMACK

I pulled at the thong, stretching it, moving it over her hip.

"What are you going to--AH!"

Two fingers in her pussy. She was soaking wet. Absolutely drenched. The noises were slick and obscene as I pushed in and out of her slit, fingerfucking her while she clutched the edges of the island. This was going to be hard, fast, sudden--just the way she asked for it.

I pulled my fingers out, reached forward, shoved the between her pink lips. At the same time, I shoved my pants down, then my boxers, cock falling hard against her plump ass.

"Wait, whwchwat awre woo--" She could barely speak with my fingers in her mouth. I pushed them further, felt her gag, and then shoved my cock inside.

"Take it," I grunted, the sound of my balls slapping against her pussy echoing against the tiles.

In and out.

"Fucking take it."

In and out.

"Deeper."

"Mmph, mmph," she was drooling down my knuckles.

In and out.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh," she was moaning around my fingers now. My other hand squeezed that plush part of her ass right below her hip.

I pulled my fingers from her mouth and wrapped my hand in her hair, pulling back as I sped up.

"Wa-wait, are you gonna--?"

"Shut up."

In and out.

"Please--"

In and out.

"Please what?"

Please...cum."

SMACK

Ass jiggling while my balls pressed against her slit, cum filling her pussy, thick rope upon thick rope. Grunting. Groaning. "There it fucking is."

Eve panting hard.

Me sweating in my costume, "Take. It. All."

***

"That was really fucking great." Eve was sitting on the couch, Night of the Living Dead humming quietly in the background as she sipped hot cider. "Whew."

I sat in the armchair across from her, still in my mask. "Tell all your friends."

She giggled.

"You're great on the phone, though. The porn video was an inspired choice."

"Ha, well, it was also true."

I smiled behind my mask, "I figured."

A few minutes later, I was slipping out the same backdoor I'd come through.

I'm not sure if I'll see Eve again, but she gave me five stars. And, hopefully, my next "victim" will be just as fun.