Halloween CD Slut

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Halloween CD Slut
Halloween. It’s just an excuse to go out drinking with friends like any
other night, only this time in a ridiculous costume. And since my friends
and I definitely like to party, it makes sense that I dress up for the
occasion.

This year, I decided to surprise the guys by dressing up as a girl. At
costume shops they have a thousand different “sexy” costumes. Sexy cat,
sexy cop, sexy pirate…I always loved it when I saw girls wearing these
costumes, so I thought it would be fun to put one on myself. I grabbed one
off the rack at a pop-up Halloween store near my house. Luckily, I’m small
enough to fit into the one-size-fits-everyone-but-the-fat-girl costumeÑat
5’7″, 135, I’ve never been accused of having a buff physique.

My name is Jeremy, by the way, and I’m 25. I work in a law firm as a
paralegal, but I don’t really love it. The money I make pays for my real
life outside of work. My friends and I go to concerts, take vacations
together, and party. I’m at that stage of life where I feel invincible and
just want to have a good time. Which might explain why I left the house
looking like a total slut that night.

The costume came with patent leather Mary Janes with a little bit of a
heel, knee-highs, a short (OK, a VERY short) plaid skirt, and a white
oxford crop top shirt with a sexy little necktie. I really wanted to sell
this look, so I bought a pair of very girlie pantiesÑthin cotton with
little red heartsÑand a blond wig. I did a little makeup on my face thanks
to some how-to videos on YouTube. I shaved my legs above the knee-highs. I
don’t have a ton of body hair, but if I’m going out as a sexy girl, I want
to look like a sexy girl, not a militant feminist.

When I put the whole look together, I was surprised by how good I
looked. At first glance, I looked like a girl dressed up as a schoolgirl
rather than a guy having a laugh.

A word here: up until tonight, I would have told you I was a completely
straight guy. Now, I don’t have a girlfriend and spend all of my time with
my guy friends, but in my mind, I was just a regular guy. That night, my
perception would change abruptly.

I got to the bar where a few of my friends had already gathered. Pete,
dressed as Obi Wan Kenobi, gave me a full-on sexy smile before he realized
that it was me. “Oh shit!” he blurted, “I thought you were a beautiful girl
coming to hit on me!”

“Has that EVER happened to you before?” quipped Joe, dressed as a sailor.

“There’s a first for everything, even Pete getting laid,” responded
Bryan. Bryan claimed he was dressed as Mitt Romney, though he had pretty
much half-assed it with a blue suit and an overly styled hairdo.

The evening continued like this, my core friends and a few other people
having drinks and making fun of each other. It was a fun, unspectacular
night. Like I said, the usual weekend night, plus costumes.

Well into the night, I leaned back into the bar to get another drink. To my
surprise, the bartender already had set one in front of me, a shot of good
tequila. “From the gentleman,” the bartender explained, nodding at a guy at
the other end of the bar. He was a bigger guy, maybe 6’1″, kinda buff, a
little tougher looking than the crowd I was with. He was dressed as a
pilot, and looked the part with a short haircut. I smiled at him, gave him
a playful wink, and downed the tequila shot. Then I ordered another
drink. What can I say? I was 25, and my liver was in fighting shape.

I didn’t think anything of this guy…if you looked at me for more than 30
seconds, you could figure out that I was just a guy dressed for
Halloween. He must have been having a laugh with me, right? But as the
night went on, and we all got drunker, I found out that he was not just
having fun.

The bartender tapped me on the shoulder. “Another one from your admirer.” A
shot of Patron Silver sat there on the bar. I looked down the bar to see
this guy’s eyes fixed on me. I swear, no man has ever looked at me that way
before. It was like something out of a nature movie. This guy looked like
he wanted to own me. For the first time, I felt a little uneasy.

I picked up the shot, and looked down the bar. I guess that was this guy’s
cue, because he began walking through the crowd towards me. I slammed the
shot to steel my nerves as this guy approached. He stood right in front of
me, closer than you would in a normal social situation, close enough that I
could feel the warmth of his breath on my face.

“You wanna dance?” he asked, somewhat expectingly.

“Oh…no man…thanks for the drinks, but…I’m really a guy,” I stammered.

“Well you look like a bitch to me,” he said. Somehow it didn’t sound like
an insult, more like a statement of fact. And really, he was right. Here I
am, dressed like a slut and taking free drinks from this guy. I didn’t know
what to say, so I smiled and looked into his eyes nervously.

He spoke again: “Why don’t you come back to my place? I’ve got a thick
problem that I think you can help me with.”

He took my hand and put it on his inner thigh, where I felt the outline of
a big, throbbing dick. I felt so vulnerable that I let him hold my hand
there, and for a second I was enthralled with his massive member, as well
as the fact that he appeared to be aroused by me.

Then I came to my senses. My friends were at the bar, I had probably had
too much to drink (about two tequila shots’ worth), and…I was straight! I
pulled my hand away and slurred, “I’m sorry, I gotta get home.” I made a
hasty retreat towards the door. My friends made some jokes about me being a
lightweight, and I stumbled into the cool night air.

I lived close enough to the bar that I could walk, maybe 6-7 blocks. The
air was cool and moist, and gave me goosebumps on my shaven and exposed
legs. It was late by now, maybe 3am, and most of the Halloween revelers
were passed out or in bed by now. My heels clicked on the pavement as I
walked the deserted blocks back to my place.

As I made my way, dressed way too scantily for this weather, I began to
sense someone was following me. I tried to quicken my pace but I heard
footsteps getting closer. I looked back to see the guy from the bar. He
grabbed my arm, spun me around, and pinned me up against a brick wall.

“You can’t take drinks all night from a guy and not expect to put out,” he
said as he pressed his body closer in to mine.

“You don’t understand,” I whimpered.

“I understand perfectly. You’re a cocktease, and you’re going to get what
you deserve.”

Jesus. This was no longer funny. I had to get away from this guy. I ducked
from between his two arms and took off running. He followed me, but I’m
pretty quick. If I could get to a main street I would be safe. I was
gaining ground on him. I looked back, and just as I did, I twisted my ankle
from these stupid heels. I wound up on my hands and knees, my shaven knee
sc****d on the pavement.

He was on me in a second. “OK, bitch, time for you to get it.” I could hear
him roughly unzipping his pants as he held me down against the
sidewalk. With his left hand, he reached under my skirt and pulled my
panties down just enough to expose my asshole, and with his right hand he
put his huge, hard cock in place. With no preamble, he shoved his thick
dick two inches inside me.

Was this really happening? Was I really dressed as a slut, on my hands and
knees, getting ****d? His dick was impossibly thick; it felt like he was
driving a baseball bat up my ass. The pain was such that I couldn’t
breathe. I laid there, the wind knocked out of me.

“Fuck, that’s tight.” He insistently pushed more of himself inside me. To
minimize the pain I had to adjust my back, sticking my ass up in the
air. “Yeah, bitch, take it.” After some consistent pressure, I could feel
his pelvis meet my soft ass. His big balls rested against my shaven thighs.

“Please…” I whimpered quietly. I couldn’t cry out. Maybe I didn’t want
to. This guy was filling me completely with his dick, and all I could say
was “please.”

He took to fucking me. He dicked me aggressively, like you do when you are
deep into a passionate fuck. He pistoned in and out of me. I began to arch
my back to meet his thrusts. I could feel my ass opening up, and my
prostrate squeezing off the head of his dick. I thought to myself that this
was a hot fuck…it’s just that I was the one who was taking it.

As he got into his rhythm, my pain and embarrassment was replaced by a new
feeling: an extreme need and pleasure. I found myself involuntarily
grunting like a bitch with each thrust deep into my pussy. Worse still, I
was getting aroused myself. My dick was hard in my thin cotton
panties. Jesus, he had me so worked up.

My grunts and moans built, and his pace and pressure picked up. My ass was
gripping his fat dick like a glove. I felt a surprising but familiar
feeling…I was about to blow my load. Against just the friction of my
panties, my little hard dick was about to blow. I was so embarrassed but I
couldn’t control myself. I tried to hold back, but exploded into the most
powerful orgasm of my life. I must have woken up the neighbors with my
shrieking. I’m sure they just thought it was some drunk slut behaving badly
on Halloween. And come to think of it, they were right.

As my orgasm subsided, this fucker was still thrusting hard into me. I came
back to my senses. I took stock of where I was: on my hands and knees,
dressed as a slut, with a thick dick buried in my tight, formerly straight
ass. And worse still, I had gotten off by getting this guy off. I came from
getting assfucked.

These thoughts were replaced by having to brace myself as this guy reached
his peak and exploded his load inside me. He must have cum for 20 seconds,
each time injecting his dick deeper inside of me. I had a load of cum in my
panties and one deep inside my ass. I felt somewhat humiliated but
strangely satisfied. As this guy pulled out of me, I felt naked, empty. I
reached behind and pulled up my panties and scrambled to my feet.

As he stood up, breathless and with a look of utter satisfaction on his
face, he said, “meet me at the same place next week.”

And the crazy thing was, I thought to myself that I probably would.

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