The Halloween Party and Mistaken Identity

Oliver isn’t typically late to events, but the Halloween party is already in full swing when he reaches his friend’s house and makes his way up the driveway. Music and lights pour through the windows, giving life to the otherwise subdued neighborhood. Oliver didn’t mean to show up late, but he spent too long putting on his spiderman costume. It took more time than he thought it would slip the tight spandex over his body, but in the end, he finally managed to get the inconvenient fabric on… 

Oliver knocks on the door several times and waits, plucking nervously at the skin-tight fabric over his chest and sides. This is the most revealing thing he’s worn in a long time, and it took a little while for him to get over the self-conscious feeling creeping into the back of his mind. But despite his reservations, Oliver must admit that it’s a good costume that suits him well. He splurged on good-quality spandex, and the mask pulls everything together, even if it makes it difficult to see.

The front door swings open in the middle of Oliver’s internal musings, and a woman dressed as a witch appears with a drink in her hand and a wide grin on her face. “Come in! Come in!” she shouts over the music. Obviously, she’s already drunk, judging by how she’s swaying on her feet. Oliver vaguely recognizes her as a friend of a friend, but he can’t recall her name. It doesn’t matter, though, because the woman is already ushering him inside and turning around.

Oliver slips through the door and looks around, taking in the party and hoping to catch the eye of someone he knows. There are plenty of people wandering around wearing fantastic costumes, but the one that catches Oliver’s eye belongs to a woman who is already staring at him intently.

The spandex-clad man doesn’t recognize the woman wrapped in nothing but black latex and mesh, but she’s looking at him like she already knows him. Oliver is so mesmerized by her gorgeous figure that he’s oblivious to her crossing the room toward him.

Once she’s close enough, the mysterious woman immediately presses herself against the confused man. Her hungry gaze travels across his body, making him feel naked despite the costume covering him from head to toe. Finally, she leans in close to Oliver’s face, lips inches away from his ear, and says, “Good boy for showing up in the costume I asked for.” Her warm breath sends shivers down Oliver’s spine. He almost misses what she said, but after her words register, he pauses in confusion. What does she mean by that?

“W-What?” Oliver sputters, his cheeks already painted a dusty red. She ignores him and places her hands on his waist, making the rest of his words die on her tongue.

“You’re so good and obedient, sweetheart. Doing just what I asked of you. It shows me how eager you are.”

This woman has to have him mistaken for someone else because there’s no way she would come up to a stranger and speak to them like this or touch them so intimately. Her hands wander around his waist, pressing herself even closer. Oliver can feel the soft press of her breasts and the heat radiating from her body through the layers of spandex and latex, and those sensations, paired with the groping, make the man’s mind short-circuit.

The woman – who still hasn’t introduced herself – continues her exploration of Oliver’s quivering body. The hand on his waist trails downwards slowly. “You’re so squirmy, but that’s okay. Once I’m inside you, you won’t be able to do anything but take it. Won’t you, baby?”

Suddenly, her hands are everywhere. She squeezes and gropes Oliver’s chest, waist, and ass, ignoring him as he lets out an embarrassing squeak. To his horror, Oliver can feel his cock hardening in his costume, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Are you getting excited?” she teases, brushing her hand against his cock and smirking when it twitches in response. It isn’t pleasurable – there’s no friction – but Oliver is more excited by the woman being so near, breathing and whispering in his ears and sending violent shivers down his spine. He’s excited by the woman physically overpowering him by doing virtually nothing, just leaning forward and running her hands along his body.

The woman leans closer and drags her lips against Oliver’s ear. “Let’s go,” she whispers. She suddenly grabs his hand and drags him through the crowd of people who don’t pay the pair any mind because it’s not like anyone could catch Oliver’s panicked expression through his mask. The man is led up the stairs and down the hall until they come across an empty bedroom, and then he’s pulled inside

Her sharp, hungry gaze immediately settles on Oliver. He has all of her attention like before, but now that they’re alone, everything feels much more intense.

But this has to be the end of it. She’ll take off his mask and finally figure out that she’s got the wrong guy, and then Oliver can go back to the party. But that doesn’t happen.

Instead, the latex-clad woman roughly shoves Oliver onto the bed. He squirms around, but his limbs get caught around the blankets, turning his escape into helpless and embarrassing flailing.

“Baby, I know you’re excited, but you need to stay still. Being eager is no excuse for disobeying me. Can you show me what a good boy I know you can be?”

Instead of waiting for an answer, the dominant woman pushes his face into the mattress roughly, and all Oliver can do is whine loudly as he’s pinned immobile. Now that she has him where she wants him, she yanks his spidey pants and underwear down in one go. The tight fabric gets caught around the man’s thighs, making his skin bulge lewdly. Oliver freezes. There’s nothing between his naked ass and the dominatrix’s lustful eyes.

“MMm!” Oliver whines into the mattress as warm hands explore his backside. He has to admit the stimulation feels nice when deft fingers trail over his hardening cock, hanging uselessly between his legs.

“There you go,” the woman says, commending Oliver for his forced corporation. He wants to protest, but he can’t find his voice.

The man lets out a surprised squeak as something cold and wet drips down between his ass cheeks. Lube? Why is this woman pouring lube on him? The snap of the bottle closing echoes throughout the room, and then one of the woman’s hands push down on Oliver’s back, pinning his chest to the mattress. Something thick and long slaps between his thighs, and Oliver’s breath hitches.

He’s tense as he feels the dominatrix line the tip of the strap-on with his tight hole. This is where he begins to panic. He’s never taken anything up his ass before, and he wasn’t expecting for his first time to happen tonight of all nights. He just wanted to have fun at his friend’s Halloween party, but fate obviously had other plans.

“Wait–” he tries to say, but the woman pulls back, tip sliding heavily across Oliver’s perineum until it catches on his rim. There’s barely time for the man to suck in a breath before the dominatrix thrusts, and Oliver howls. Pain laces from his asshole and deep inside as the strap-on forces him open; it forces him to accommodate the entire girth and length in one hard thrust. There’s no pleasure in this. The woman fucks him like an animal – fast, short thrusts with no pause for him to adjust.

Oliver claws at the blankets, looking for something to dig into. He lets out cry after cry as his insides are pounded into. It feels like he’s taking a battering ram up his ass, large and uncompromising. But then the woman changes her angle, and Oliver screams a different tune.

“Is that it? Did I hit your sweet spot, baby?” Oliver can’t answer, too overwhelmed by the intensity. She hones in on the man’s prostate and angles all of her thrusts to hit it harder, knocking all the breath out of Oliver so he can’t even think about replying. All he manages to let out is a gurgling sound, his head spinning too fast to make sense of how good it feels. Holy shit.

The dominatrix has one hand on Oliver’s back and the other grabbing a fistful of his thigh. She hitches his hips higher to fuck into him faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Oliver chants. A guttural moan emphasizes each thrust. She slides out entirely before she bottoms out again. She’s so deep, so far inside of him, and Oliver’s never felt so good before in his life.

The man’s orgasm takes him completely by surprise. His cock, which had been almost wholly neglected this entire night, pulses erratically between his legs, useless and needy. A few more straight-on thrusts to his prostate milk his orgasm from his overwhelmed body. Oliver would have tumbled over onto the floor if it wasn’t for the tight grip on his hip.

“Good job, baby. You took that so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Oliver mewls pathetically as the woman pulls out, leaving his asshole gaping for her amusement. She sinks two fingers inside for fun, and Oliver whines pitifully. He’s already overstimulated, but he still arches his back, attempting to take the fingers further. Finally, the woman huffs a laugh and pulls away from him entirely after delivering a sharp slap to his ass.

Oliver sits up, disoriented and shaky, but he manages to stand on his own and pull his costume back up. The woman is putting away the sex toy and cleaning up around the room, so Oliver decides to just leave.

The party is still going strong when the aching man steps out of the bedroom, which shouldn’t be surprising to him, but considering that Oliver just had his world rocked, he isn’t thinking straight.

Suddenly, Oliver isn’t in the mood to party anymore. He would much rather go home and rest, so he makes a beeline to the door. On his way out, he notices a man in the living room dressed up in a spiderman costume. It’s like looking in a mirror. The other spiderman, who Oliver can’t see the face of, is wandering around, seemingly on the lookout for someone he knows. This is almost enough to make Oliver pause, but the ache in his backside is persistent, so the man ends up ignoring the peculiar sight and slips out the door.