EroticReverie

Angel Avery

After almost falling on my ass from the push of the dark deep voices finger fucking phantom, I shove opent he door, my head darting up and down the hall of flashing lights to look for the tall mother fucker that man handled me and called me filthy degrading things and left me panting like a depserate skank in the closet. 

No sign of the tall motherfucker, searching for that black hoodie, for a skeleton face anywhere. 

I spend the rest of the night, looking aroung for anything resembling the frame of the guy I'd just let touch me and drive me up against a wall and press my cheek to the door and yank my hair. But no such fucking luck. No skeleton mask. No black hoodies. Not even a body that slightly resembles the one I was ready to fucking rip a new asshole for being so...so...jesus...so hot. 

I'd never let a guy talk to me that way. None had ever even tried. Of the guys I'd slept with since losing my virginity at fifteen, none had come close to the power the exuded from the skeleton masked mother fucker. Who the fuck was it? Did they even go to our school? Now I'd just what? Walk around in school, looking at every guy over six foot wondering if his digits had been inside me tonight? 

I could feel the mess in my god damn panties that he'd left me with and was furious that he'd just walked out. I FELT how hard I'd made him by dancing up on him, I'd felt it dig into my fucking stomach, felt it against my ass. How dare he. That fucking voice, god, that voice was nothing like the douche bage voices of the guys I fucked around with that sounded like that had barely two brain cells left to rub together. He sounded like a fucking man. Was it a man? Was someone fucking father crashing the party and finger blasting high school girls in closets? Kinda hot, but doubtful. 

Maybe someone on the basketball team? He was tall, but not built in muscles and beefcaked up like most of the football team players. So I doubted it was one of them. His body was tall and kinda lanky...but he had to have some kind of muscle, because god, that grip he took on my wrist, the power of his hands when he snatched my hair and grabbed my throat and jaw. My pussy was in a manic frenzy. Wanting to find that hand like prince charming wanted to find the owner of that glass slipper. What did I do? Go around asking guys to choke me to find the perfect fit? 

I didnt want to analyze how fucked up it made me, or tell my therapist about the possible deep rooted issues I had regarding the fact I very much enjoyed a voiceless strangers fingering me, then demanding I "move" and walked me like a bitch in heat, his two fingers in my cunt the leash that guided to me a closet where he spoke to me like a cheap slut. I dont want to think about how fucking wet it made me to be treated like that. How I wanted more. I wanted more, very, very, badly. 

After a few more cup of jungle juice, I almost all but forget about skeleton man. I'm pushed against wall, making out with my leg hitched up aroung Greg, my ex is knecking me, kissing and biting at my neck as he grinds into me. My eyes heavy with alcohol and the need to get some god damn dick, when I see the fucking skeleton face. My eyes popping open as they stand in the front door, shaking their head slowly at me. I gasp and push Greg off me and he curses.

"What'reyoudoinbaby?" his words slur together. "Whatsit?" he looks over to where Im looking but he doesnt know what Im looking at, cause the face is only just there over the crowd, and I blink, my eyes opening to the head turning and walking off. I shove Greg away and he curses. 

'The fuck Angel?" he says angrily, left with blue balls as I push the bodies of other drunken teens rudely, earning me some "Watch it!" and "bitch" remarks, and when I make it to the door. My head dipping out as I stumble and look around. People lingering around, looking at me like Im crazy.

"where did he go?!" I yell and a few guys from school laugh. 

"Who?" they ask. 

"The skeleton fucker!" I yell and then just look at me laughing. 

"Who is it?!" I yell at them. 

"Who is who? Are you fucking high Avery?" Collins, a guy from my gym class asks and I shake my head. 

"The guy! With the skeleton mask! Who is it?!" I say frustrated and angry. 

"Dont know who the fuck youre talking about" Collins says and I pinch my brows as GReg comes up behind me. 

"The fuck Angel?" he says and slides his hands onto my waist. I push them off. 

"You girl is high" Collins says. 

"I am not fucking high!" I yell. I was drunk though, that was for sure, and fucking spinny and needed to sit down. 

----------

I wake up the next morning, naked, in bed with Greg......and Collins. Fuck. 

I slip out of the fucking bed , grab my nun costume, and thank the Halloween party gods at the site of used...cum drenched condoms on the floor. I barely remembered  thing after trying to chase down the skeleton guy again. I had a bad habit of blacking out when I drank and needed to fuck take it easy. 

I run to the bathroom down the hall, naked, holding my nun costume to my body, take a piss and put my costume back on and then step over littered passed out bodies in the hall and do my walk of shame from Collin's bedroom, but thankfully none of the drunk passed out people do anything other than snore and drool , and dont witness me running from a night of more drunken mistakes. 

I dont even bother trying to locate my shoes. I dig through the large platic pumpkin bowl at the door for my keys, my head pounding , wincing as I make it out the door and walk barefoot down the street to my car. 

I don't even look up, or even notice till I'm closer to my car, and my jaw drops at the sight of my windshield. 

In white paint, the words "can u still feel my fingers?" are paired with a little skeleton head. 

"Mother-" I growl and walk over, rubbing my hand over it, and it smears, and looks like it's actually window paint. 

I open my fucking car door and search for napkins, grabbing my starbucks napkins, walking back to the front of my car and spitting on the windshield. It was scribbled largely, but big enough and I was furious. Mainly because I was hungover, and also because I still had no fucking clue who it was. And also because, yes...I could fucking still feel his fingers...the way they knew just where my fucking g spot was....even though i was sure i'd had both Greg and Collins inside me last night...the only thing that my pussy found worth remembering was that strangers fingers fucking me in the crowded room and then again in the dark closet. 

I shouldve just ripped the fucking mask off. 

I growl as I finish wiping, then get in my car and use the wipers, spraying them and taking my ass home to shower. 

After my shower, I check my phone, which Id left in my car last night, and turn it on. The notifications lighting up. I check my instagram first, ignoring messages from my texts. I check peoples stories, looking for any sign of the skeleton guy in the background. No such luck. After I like a few posts of me and my friends. And I roll my eyes at the one of me and Greg and Collins on his story of us in his bed , me sandwiched between them in my bra, Collins big grin looking at the camera as I have my tongue shoved into Greg's mouth and he snaps the pic of us three in bed together. 

"Manager twa?" the caption says and I roll my eyes. I'd chalk it up to Collins being a drunk and making a typo, but im pretty sure the dumbass thinks thats how you actually spell menage a trois. 

I could care less if people knew I'd fucked them both. I wasn't exactly known to give a shit about modesty or morals. Anyone who gave a shit about what other people did with their bodies, needed a hobby, or were jealous. 

I go to my texts. 

I notice my friends names and then in the middle is a phone number that's not saved into my phone. 

I tap the message and squeeze my eyes, my head still pounding and blink and read the screen. 

Immediately my jaw clenches. 

"You looked like such a fucking slut tonight."

"You always do."

"That's how I knew I could slip my fingers inside you." 

"Hope those two chumps took care of you, tell them you're welcome for the nice wet pussy they fucked , lord knows they struggle to get girls primed for the three minutes of disappointment they offer." 

"Too bad you weren't such a little slut, I'd show you how a cunt that wet is supposed to be fucked." 

I shake my head at my phone and throw my phone on the bed.

"ARGH!" I growl and then pick it back up and throw myself on the bed in my towel and immediately call the number. Theres no voicemail set up. I text.

"Who the fuck is this?" I reply and while waiting try my investigatvie skill at reverse looking up the number. It's not even in our area code. The fuck.  no name or information comes back and I seethe as I read the texts again. My cunt aches as I read the last line again.

"I'd show you how a cunt that wet is supposed to be fucked." 

I read it again and again, and curse as I spread my legs and close my eyes as slip my hand down my towel and between my legs and rub my clit. My ass immediately pushing into the bed as I think about those fucking fingers. Those long fucking fingers. I moan and slide my fingers down and inside me.

"fuck yes" I breathe as I imagine it's him, the no name skeleton. 

In minutes I'm bucking into my own hand, fucking myself hard and fast and trying to get it to feel just like his, how hard he'd shoved them up inside of me, how fast he'd moved them in and out while also rubbing my g spot and I whimper. Sliding my fingers out I go back to my clit until I climax. I jump as my phone dings and I pant, looking over and grabbing it, my wet pussy exposed as I lay there, still feeling the twitch of my orgasm. 

"Guess you'll never know."  it says. I exhale harshly. 

"I'll find out." I say.

"Only when I want you to." he replies. 

"when?" I ask. 

"Maybe never." he answers. 

I lick my lips, wondering if I tell him what I just did, if he'd be tempted to reveal who he is, proud of himself for making me touch myself.

"I just masturbated, wishing it was your fingers inside of me instead of my own." I type. I hit send. 

"My fingers better than the two cocks that filled that pathetic cunt last night?" he asks and I clench my jaw. Because, yes, they fucking were. 

"Yes." I type. 

"Pathetic. Not just you. Them too." he types. 

"Not sure a bitch like you deserves a proper fuck anyways. So you probably got the quality of fuck you deserved." he types.

"You're such a fucking asshole." I type. 

"Yeah. And it probably has your dumb pussy begging for more doesnt it?" he types. 

I swallow. 

"Yes." I type.

"Like I said, I don't fuck whores." 

"Fuck you" I type. 

No response. 

I wait. I wait. 

"So thats it?" 

No response.

"Go fuck yourself." I type. 

"Back at ya Angel. and make sure to think of me again while you do it." 

"Smug fucking prick." I reply. 

"I have every right to be smug, when I've got your pussy drooling over a few fingers. Imagine what I could've done for you with my cock Angel. I know you felt it. How fucking big it was against your body. How deep that cock wouldve fucked your nasty cunt." he types and fuck, my hand goes back between my legs. And I let the mystery man degrade me again, as I rub my cunt to his words.