Halloween Party - Part 3

The door clicked shut behind us, the noise of the party muffled into a low thump through the walls. The only light came from the thin gap under the door, just enough to outline the stranger’s frame in the dark.

Before I could think, before I could ask again who the fuck he was, he pushed me back against the wall. My head thudded softly, my breath catching. The silver mask gleamed faintly in the dark, hollow eyes fixed on me.

His hands slid down my chest, impatient, fumbling with my belt. My chest rose and fell too fast.
“Wait—” My hand caught his wrist. “This is—fuck—this is crazy.”

He didn’t answer. Just tugged harder until my belt came loose, my pants shoved low enough that my cock sprang free, thick and already dripping pre-cum.

Then he dropped to his knees.

“Oh, fuck—” The words tore out of me when his mouth wrapped around me.

Hot. Wet. The suction immediate, perfect. His tongue licked the underside of my cock as he bobbed his head, sloppy and loud, the sound of spit filling the dark room. My knees almost buckled.

“Jesus—fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hissed, one hand slamming against the wall for balance. My other hand tangled in his hair — no, not hair, the edge of the mask. Cold metal pressed against my thigh as his head moved up and down, swallowing me deeper every time.

I moaned too loud. The sound ripped out of me before I could bite it back.

Footsteps passed in the hallway and I froze, heart in my throat. His mouth didn’t stop. If anything, he sucked harder, like he wanted me to get caught, like he wanted me to scream. I clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling the sound as my cock twitched dangerously.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m close,” I panted into my palm.

He pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit clinging between his lips and my cock. My chest heaved. My dick glistened in the dark, aching, begging.

“Please,” I groaned before I could stop myself.

He rose back up, pressed me harder into the wall. The mask bumped against my cheek, cold, impersonal, until his hand gripped the strap and yanked it halfway up.

And then he kissed me.

Hard. Wet. Tongue shoving into my mouth, teeth clashing. I gasped into it, tasting myself on his lips, the mix of spit and pre-cum dizzying. His hands pinned my wrists above my head, his hips grinding into mine.

I groaned into his mouth, desperate, feverish, until he pulled back, sliding the mask down again to cover himself completely.

“Your turn,” he whispered, voice muffled.

I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. I dropped to my knees, fumbling with his pants until I freed his cock. Thick. Heavy. My hand barely fit around it. I licked the tip first, salty and slick, then shoved him down my throat as far as I could take him.

He groaned — the first sound I’d heard him make that wasn’t controlled — muffled through the mask. His hips bucked, hitting the back of my throat, making my eyes water. I gripped his thighs, bobbing my head, spit dripping down my chin, choking and moaning against him.

I reached for the light switch, wanting to see him, needing to know. My hand brushed the wall—

“No.” His hand caught my wrist, firm.

He shoved my head back down his cock, forcing me to take him deeper. I gagged, saliva spilling onto my chest, but I obeyed.

I wanted to see his face. Needed it.

When he finally pulled out, slick and throbbing, he tugged me back up into another kiss, mask tilted just enough to let me taste him but never enough to reveal who he was. My cock rubbed against his, both of us leaking, smearing precum between our stomachs.

I fumbled again for the switch. My fingers brushed it. Click.

The light flared.

And he was gone.

The room was empty, the door cracked open just enough to swing in the draft.

My pants were still around my thighs, my cock wet and throbbing, spit cooling on my chin. My chest heaved, my body trembling.

And the mask — the mask was nowhere to be seen.