Halloween Tutor / Elvira's Revenge

Threats and guilt didn't work on Darwin's "Missing Link." I ruled out logic, since my head was still too fuzzy to work on any deductive reasoning. When he shoved me down on the couch, undid his pants, and whipped out a cock that would choke a small elephant, my expression must have betrayed any further excuses.

"C'mon Bitch, wrap those red lips around it," Brad urged, propped his leg up to the couch, and ran a hand behind my wigged head.

Contemplating the probability of a super thick 11-inch impaling my tender pussy, I gave up any further pretense, and lifted the weighty hunk of muscle to my mouth. Taking the doorknob head of it in my mouth, my lips stretched and contorted. Sticking my tongue out full length, I could get more and more of his expanding pipe inside. Sucking more of his soft flexible sheath, I knew there was no way I could blow his fully erect cock. Circling my entire hand around the wide girth of it, he was quite happy having me twist, jack and suck his beast the best I could. "Damn, you're good at sucking cock, Missus B!"

Slobbering and moaning like the whore he never expected, I juggled his hairy balls and freehand-sucked the beast. When his wrist-thick rod grew too huge for my mouth, I slapped the precum dripper against my lips and cheeks. Easing back to lie out on the couch, I hiked my gown up and spread my legs. Pulling both melons from their confines, I licked my lips and waited the ravaging. Needless to mention, I didn't have a long wait.

"Yeah Baby, spread 'em wide. I'm gonna fuck the hell outa ya," commanded the short-haired gorilla. I pulled my hosed legs up and apart to give him perfect access to my wet hole, while he ripped off his shirt and shorts.

"Just shut the hell up, you fucking ape and do me," I said driving my nails into his broad shoulders. He lined up the battering ram.

"Yes MA'AM!" he smarted off, teased my pussy lips apart, and impaled me with his mammoth pole.

Wincing from the initial shock, my vaginal walls adjusted to his extended size. As I pretty much expected, Brad's tender, sensitive side had yet to be tapped or developed. I would equate his mastery of having sex with being fucked by a Mack truck. He was the pure essence of wham bam, with nothing added to spice up his delivery. I was nothing more to him than another cum-catching receptacle.

Two things flashed through my addled brain as he plowed into me: "How the hell did this ape and precious little Denise ever hook up? I mean, what did King Kong ever find appealing about Fay Wray?" The other neon flashing said, "There's no way I would ever make babies with this ape; sooner tear out all my female plumbing and join a convent."

As with so many things I learned today, you gotta take the good with the not-so-good. The latter of my flashing thoughts was remedied, when bashful Brad tired of screwing my love hole. That was good news. The beast was starting to hurt anyway. Locking my legs together at the ankles, he yanked my entire body up like some limp Barbie Doll (pun accepted). This maneuver left me with all my weight on my extended neck, looking up through my fleshy mounds. "W-wait Brad Honey! I don't... I CAN'T..." I yelled, anticipating the impossible.

"Got to fuck your ass," Brad declared, probing the entrance of my rectum with his thick fingers.

It must have been at that particular moment my drugged self shook back into the realm of reality. I was suddenly conscious of where I was and what was happening.

"Oh God NOOO!" I shrieked, feeling the massive head of his super salami start to stretch my asshole. "OH PLEASE DON'T! I can't TAKE it!" I begged, reaching up with both hands to push him away. It was useless.

"GONNA fuck yo ass Bitch!" He repeated, proud of his aptitude to master a second language. "Denise's old lady lets me fuck her ass all the time; you can too," he reasoned, trying to shovel his humongous cock into my asshole.

With my legs hog-tied in his grip, all my straining and twisting was futile. A quick lesson in basic physics was out of the question with this no-mind pervert. "You mother-fucking brute, get the hell off me NOW! I'll have your ass not ONLY kicked out of school, but you'll do TIME for this, you fucking APE!" I promised. He ignored me.

"BRAD! What the HELL are you doing? Stop it! STOP IT!" Denise screamed from overhead. Pounding his chest and yanking his hair, trying to stop him, my little savior had no effect on the single-minded primate. Evidently my screams got the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Pervert as well, as Tony and Sharon appeared to witness my impending sodomy.

"Bradley, Bradley, now is that any way to treat a respected educator?" Tony snidely asked, before snapping off another digital photo. Now I knew the source of all those white flashes.

"Don't fuck with me Tony. This bitch is asking for it," noted the giant ogre.

Shaking my head violently enough to loosen my obnoxious wig, I screamed louder. "You fuckers! All of you assholes are going down! I know you drugged me and you'll pay for this!" I avowed.

"Hmm, and just WHO would testify for you, with such incriminating evidence to the contrary? These photos actually show you enjoying yourself, Vampira," Tony said, exercising a lawyer's vocabulary.

My teeth clenched, as tears rolled down my cheeks. Trying to envision an imminent pain I could never prepare for, I had little patience for Tony's self-serving interpretation. Denise rolled herself into a passive little ball, which I supposed was her normal posture under such pressure. Switching the focus of my expressions to Sharon, I detected she was not thrilled with events. Whether she actually felt pity on me, or was just plain jealous, she had seen enough. The brawny, half-naked woman stood behind the ape and applied a full choke hold on him. That finally broke his stupor, enough to get his attention.

"Okay Brad, that's quite enough," she said, calmly applying more pressure. "Let go of her now, or else!" She warned, with the patience of a drill instructor.

Slowly the monster jock backed away from me. Letting go of my ankles, my ass plopped down on the couch. Realizing the stupid son-of-a-bitch might still have second thoughts, I decided a quick escape was called for. Unfortunately, my body told me "quick" should not be part of the narrative.

"Shit–damn," I cursed, gathering my purse and clothes for one final sprint to freedom's door. Swinging open the heavy front entry, I turned one last time, "YOU FUCKERS ARE NUTS!" I screamed, pulled the gown up to my knees, and made tracks to the safety of my car. Thankfully, the engine turned over. I burned rubber as I flew from their drive. Deep breathes and a floored accelerator put plenty of distance between us, until I finally glanced at the car's clock.

Now I had more choices: to head on over to the party, call hubby or the cops and rat out my abusers, or somehow forget anything happened. One thing for sure, at least my head was clear enough to consider choices. That was a comfort in itself! Spotting a phone booth, I pulled into a gas station lot. Phoning my husband would be the best option, I determined.

"Hey Honey, where the hell are you? The party's r-rockin', and I told the George I was waiting for special date," my half-lit husband laughed. Rolling my eyes up to tune out everything but the dark night and stars above, I blew out one long sigh. I smiled.

"Well, you best tell 'em to get ready. The Mistress of the Dark is on her way!" I said, with an added growl for effect. Climbing back into the car, I glanced to the rider's side seat at the large hornet's nest that used to be my wig. "Fuck it, THIS Elvira is going to be a blonde! They have more fun anyway," I laughed and geared down into drive.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Baker's Party

My adrenalin surge receded as I drove through the night. Once again in full control of my senses, the more pissed I became at Denise. I'd never been put through such a series of compromising and disgusting situations before. As recollections of the sordid, perverse acts I had participated in flooded my memory, conflicting feelings of delight, desire, distrust and revenge consumed me. The fact that Denise's perverted family had evidence to prove my side of the story was unfounded really irked and frustrated me. I was at a loss to consider any type of retaliation. Fighting through my mixed emotions, I reached my destination, the Baker's house.

The "house" was a quaint way to describe their estate. How Donny and I ever developed relationships with such well-to-dos, I'll never know. There I was parked behind a new Mercedes in my full "Mistress of the Dark" regalia, and soaking in the irony. One undeniable emotion I relished, after my debasement, was the extremely sexy, erotic way I felt in that costume. "Why let those fuckers ruin my entire night," I said, pulling down the visor mirror. "I've got a killer body, in a great costume; I'm gonna have my fun!" I stated, dusting my chest with another coat of pancake, and re-glossing my lips with blood-red lipstick.

"Here, let me do the rouge," said the all-too-familiar female voice at my driver's side window.

"DENISE, you fucking slut! You get the hell out... How'd you ever find me anyway?" I blustered, as little Daisy Duke dashed around to get in the rider's side.

"Barb, please let me explain!" She started, as she hopped in, almost crushing my beehive wig. "Well, I can't really explain, but I AM REALLY SORRY! I mean, after all the help you've given me, to put you through that was simply terrible of me. Can you EVER forgive me?" She batted those long lashes, as she let her index finger trace a line from my neck into my cleavage. God, she was good.

"I don't think I could ever forgive someone for what you did. And, how did you know about this place?" I asked sternly, yanking her hand away from me, and tossing the wig in the backseat.

"I saw the flyer in your costume bag. It kinda fell out when you left. I just HAD to apologize, please?" She begged, and lifted my hand to kiss my fingers. "There must be someway to make it up to you?"

My initial fuming soon dissolved into smoke, as her kisses and sweet smiles tempted me again. "Well, you could destroy Dear Ole Daddy's digital photos. That might help!" I suggested.

"Can't do that," she paused, mid-kiss. "But, maybe we could balance things out," she sparkled, like she'd discovered the cure for the common cold.

"And, just HOW would WE accomplish that?" I asked, as she topped off my makeup with some dark rouge.

"If WE had photos of, say, his loving little daughter doing such naughty things, he'd go ballistic! He would have to trade for them, at least," she figured.

"Denise, I appreciate the offer, but there's no way you could knowingly do such things, especially in front of a camera," I stated, as she turned to open her purse.

"You're probably right, but if his daughter was doped up, who knows WHAT she would do!" The petite blonde laughed, tearing a hole in the edge of a small envelope and draining some sort of white powdery substance into her mouth.

"NO! That's not what I think it is?" I yelled. She grinned, blinked once and swallowed.

"Yep, Daddy's magic dust; a double dose, I'm afraid," she giggled, as I ripped the envelope from her grip.

"Holy Socks! I can't even believe you did that!"

"HAH! Me n-neither!" She only half-laughed, before her torso melted into the bucket seat. "Holy socks... that's funny," Denise cackled, and turned around to retrieve my mullet beehive wig. "You've simply GOT to wear the wig, Barb," she insisted, before plunging out of the car.

My mind raced, with what to do with little Miss Daisy. Tucking the half-empty envelope behind my fake dagger, I reattached the wig, locked up and trotted up the long tree-lined path to the house. Finally catching up to the drugged trollop, I confronted her with a rough outline of a plan, still hatching in my head.

Approaching the mansion, it suddenly occurred to me that my husband had yet to see me in my costume. Daisy Duke had my rear, as we made a grand entry into the main ballroom. Glancing up at the 40-and-older crowd of costumed monsters and assorted witches staring at me, I searched for a familiar set of eyes. Making our way to a communal punch bowl, Gomez Addams (George Baker) closed in on me.

"Wow Barb, you look delicious!" The wide pin-striped suited, heavy mustached banker declared, wrapping his arm around my waist for a quick hug.

"Thanks, that seems to be the general consensus," I said.

"Most definitely worth the wait, to see you," he hummed, trying to figure the logistics of my bra. "And who's the lovely young Daisy Dukes?" He motioned to the punch bowl, where my little lovely accomplice was instantly surrounded by male droolers.

"She's my stu-, my stupid girlfriend, ya know. She asked to tag along, if that's alright, George?" I asked, letting his hand roam the covered side of my hooters.

"Ah hell yes, as long as she's of age?"

I smiled and nodded. "So where's your little Morticia Addams (Betsy)?"

"I believe I saw her headed toward the aviary with Dracula (my hubby). Might I have the pleasure of accompanying you there, Miss Elvira?" Letting his wandering hand down my torso to grope my ass.

"Perhaps later; and it's MisTRESS Elvira. I'd better keep tabs on Daisy there, for the time being," I said and broke away from his pretentious fondling to join Denise.

"HI BARB!" She squealed from the hub of the testosterone wheel surrounding her.

"Break it up. Spread out you bums!" I directed in character, before taking hold of her arm to pull her away.

"What's wrong Barb? These old guys are VERY cute. One of them wants to ride a baloney pony. I said sure. Barb, what's a baloney pony?"

"Never mind them Sweetie. They're just monsters. We have bigger fish to fry," I noted, shifting my eyes to catch sight of the photographer our host hires every year.

"Baloney-ponies, and fish to fry, oh my. Hey, that rhymes, don't it?"

"Jesus, are you forever wasted!" I mumbled, and then spotted a young dude snapping shots of several couples on the dance floor.

Stopping a waiter bearing long stem glasses of champagne, I picked out a pair. After making a quick dodge to the Ladies room, we corralled the photographer on the dance floor.

"Yes, it IS kind of bitter. I'll have to speak to the wine steward," I grinned, as the 25-year-old stud downed his glass. The poor kid couldn't decide who (or what) to focus on, Daisy's Dukes or Elvira's Haunted Hills. Either way, "photo-boy" was "committed" to us for the evening.

Making our way through the touchy-feely crowd, and "driving" Miss Daisy, was a task in itself. When we finally did locate the aviary, it didn't surprise me in the least to find Morticia Addams already showing her legs to my Dracula.

"Hi Honey, glad you finally made it!" Exclaimed Donny, giving my costume the twice-over.

"Hi ya Barbie," Morticia (thin, sleek Becky) added, no longer feeling the need to advertise her long legs.

"Well, black definitely seems to be in vogue this year!" I laughed, handling a glass of champagne to our less than gracious hostess. "Here Becky; George said you might need one of these by now."

"Ahh thanks, I appreciate that," the little, aging, inebriated, pseudo-slut said, taking the glass. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh that's Daisy Duke! Daisy, Mr. Dracula here is Donny, my husband, and Morticia is Becky, our hostess–the lady I was telling you about." I introduced everyone, as Becky took a few healthy belts of her bubbly.

"Hi everybody and this is photo-boy! He likes riding ponies too," Denise laughed and edged close to our tipsy hostess.

"My, this is k-kinda bitter," Becky said, puckering her Botox-treated lips.

"Is it really? That's funny. Try some more Beck, I'll bet you'll like it just the same, right?" I suggested.

"Hmmm, yeah...YEAH, I DO like it!" She decided after all, and finished it off.

"Daisy here is a very talented cosmetologist. You should let her do your face," I offered.

Denise was so hot to trot by that point; she took Becky's willing hand and led her to a secluded area of the large aviary. I motioned Photo-boy to join them, as I went to work on Dracula.

"Having a good time are you, you blood-sucking boob-lover you?" I winked at Donny, running my hand inside the front of his black satin cape.

"Yeah, I am now. You look..." he searched for the correct adjective.

"Delicious?" I recommended, grating my extra long, dark nails across his obvious erection.

"Yes, delicious."

"I get told that a lot," I mentioned, unzipping his fly.

In the darkness beyond us, camera flashes caught his attention. "What do you suppose is going on over there?" Donny asked, while I pulled out his full 8-inch hardon.

"If you're REALLY interested, I guess you'll have to check it out. Or, maybe you'd rather have a world-class blowjob from Elvira right here in the bushes?" I simmered and lowered myself to squat on my high heels.

Brushing back long black tresses from my face and chest, I didn't wait for a response. Taking his stiff cock past my ruby-red lips, I impatiently deep-throated him. The camera flashes increased, along with a chorus of muffled moans, but hubby was sufficiently distracted. Whipping his saliva-soaked meat out to insert it in my tight cleavage, I was more eager than ever to have him come on me or in me.

"GOD, you're SO fucking hot!" He said, not at all particular whether he fucked my tits or my mouth. "You know, this was every guy's late-night fantasy, growing up in the 80's," Donny noted.

"What's that?"

"Are you kidding? Having a chance to fuck Elvira's big tits, of course. Except, yours are even bigger!"

Twisting and yanking his familiar tool, I looked up to stare him down. "Fuck me Baby. Fill me up! C'mon Baby, and cum in my mouth!" I demanded, before shaking my head to take his thick, ready meat down my throat. Feeling it pulsating at the back of my throat, I grabbed his ass, as his lovely cock blasted a full load of hot cum. Burying my nose in his pubic hair, my sucking lips clamped around his shooter, until his involuntary shivers and spasms subsided. Withdrawing his spent rod from my mouth, I painted my exposed cleavage with the sweet remnants of his explosion and my saliva. "Mmm, now THAT was delicious," I whispered, returning to give him a sexy cum-laden after-kiss.

"So, you still up for a little exploring?" I asked, lacing my red lips with my tongue.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Zipping himself up, he winked, and nodded. Dimly lit at night, the aviary took on the aura of a haunted forest–how apropos. This forest's inhabitants were a particularly vocal species. Although the flashes had stopped, it wasn't hard to track them. As hubby and I rounded a path, we caught up with our prey. Visible in the moonlight, the naked (and equally drugged) trio was totally "engaged" in each other.

Forty-some year old, dish-water-blonde, Becky (sans her ass-length black wig) was seated spread-legged, while our golden girl, Denise, eagerly made a meal of her pussy. Photo-boy, not to be ignored, kneeling behind Daisy, doggy-fucked her. Hubby and I relished the scene for some time, without any kind of acknowledgement from them. "Watch this," I told Donny, as I grabbed up Photo-boy's camera.

"Daisy, why don't you let Becky fuck that boy for a while?" I suggested.

Like I had just uttered "open sesame," Denise disengaged from the boy, leaned back, pulled Becky forward by her legs, and stood to straddle our hostess's face. Photo-boy hardly missed a stroke, as he took hold of Becky's skinny ankles and inserted his stiffy in her twat.

Snapping a few shots of the unholy bunch, I glanced at Donny's awed expression. "WOW, how'd you DO that?"

"Hey, if you like that, watch this,"