Party Punch and Pigtails

The invitation received by my dorm mate to the huge sorority Halloween party didn't exactly come as a surprise. Chris was in the process of adding Greek notches to his bedpost, and if any of the girls' boyfriends found out, he was going to be in traction for a week. But he still got a thrill out of trying to poach them from under the unsuspecting noses of their lovers.

"Come as something you aren't!" The gold calligraphy cajoled from the high quality stock of the card. I wondered if that meant Chris was going to dress up in khakis, a shirt without an air-brushed or painted logo, and a notebook computer for once and attend the party as a college kid who actually studied and finished his assignments.

As for me, the decision wasn't an easy one. I haunted the Halloween costume shops, brooding over elaborate Dracula and Medieval knight costumes, but nothing seemed to suit me. I would make a short and wiry Dracula, and the knight costume, while cool as hell, wouldn't fit me much better. There was a really good reason I wasn't on the football team, and I didn't delude myself from that fact. I was a short, paper thin, studious geek.

Don't misunderstand. I think I'm fairly attractive. But I'm not one who'd stand out from the crowd or be able to make a touchdown without being smeared all over the field by guys with a hundred or more pounds on me in the process.

So, it came as a total surprise when the perfect costume unceremoniously called out to me at the sporting goods shop. I was there to pick up some accessories for my Mongoose (look, it's not sexy but it gets me around campus just fine and doesn't need gas), when my attention settled on the skiing supplies proliferating an entire wall of the shop. An urging imp from my subconscious whispered directions to my brain. My eyes were drawn to the gloves, hats, and ski masks. When I saw the simple black ski mask, it was immediately obvious how I'd dress up for the party.

Autumn sunshine was crisp and bright a week later on the day of the event. Gaggles of children and exhausted parents trooped up and down the streets as I made my way back to the dorms to change and get ready. While walking past Fraternity Row, I could already hear the music and see several dozen people milling up and down the street dressed in all manner of costumes. I paused on my walk home, catching a glimpse of a trio of temptresses who'd surely not spend the night alone.

The sexiest and most wanton witch I'd ever seen stood, pale face gazing toward the setting sun, the sinking star's radiance caressing her flame red hair and bringing out it's molten highlights. She wore a short black dress with a scoop neck; little black boots, a pointed black hat, and carried a stuffed black cat. Beside her, a naughty nurse was adjusting her mocha-colored corkscrew curls beneath her peaked cap, white dress and hat bathed in the same waning warm light as her friend. But the one who stood out, the companion, who stole the show without even trying, had to be the sexy schoolgirl.

If my eyes didn't deceive me, she was Kelly, one of the newer pledges from the freshman class. And oh fuck, was she gorgeous! Her long blonde hair was parted down the middle, and then woven into two adorable braids tied off with red bows. She wore a starched white button up shirt that was buttoned up all the way and trimmed in lace around the collar and cuffs, red and black plaid bowtie at her throat, a black, white, and red plaid pleated skirt that stopped mid thigh, white knee high stockings, and the real kicker of the whole outfit; a pair of gleaming black Mary Jane shoes. She carried a miniature red backpack in one hand, and an opaque plastic cup in her other. I didn't need to be in the psych doctorate program to know it most likely wasn't plain old apple cider.

Damn my statistics and probabilities class running longer than usual. Right then and there, I made up my mind that I would not only attend the party for certain even with my lingering doubts, but that I'd find Kelly, and I would make sure both of us had enough spiked punch to serve as an effective social lubricant. After that, I would get her alone and see if I got the treat I suddenly craved.

Getting back to my dorm had never been so appealing or important as it was now, and I increased the pace of my step, wishing I'd brought my bike instead of walking for the benefit of a little exercise.

The lobby of our dorm was filled with black, orange, and purple crepe paper streamers, and everyone seemed to be in a jovial enough mood. Some of the other students were dressed up and some were not. The smell of microwave popcorn filled the air, and the rowdy chatter only fueled my decision to go to the party despite a moderate case of nerves.

Back in my dorm room, Chris was blasting some generic rock as he stood in front of the mirror in our bathroom; carefully disheveling his hair and tilting his head to admire the stubble he'd meticulously grown over the last couple days. He was shirtless and wearing a banana sling under a loin cloth. He wore a bow across his back in some sort of rawhide contraption. Some discernable pile of faux fur was balled up on the counter next to the sink. When he heard me enter, he grinned.

"Listen. If you go out tonight, do the 'just checking' knock before you come barging in later. I am hoping to drag Janella back to our room by the hair. If you just show up, that will definitely fuck up the mood." I rolled my eyes, trying not to grimace from the over-application of body spray Chris had used.

"Right. Whatever." I made like I was heading for my computer.

"Dude, you should come. I mean there's going to be a hella lot of girls there. I'm sure you could find someone." Ah. Chris's candor strikes again. "Come on."

Truth was that I didn't want Chris to know if I was going or not. If he knew I was going, he'd try to talk girls into dancing with me out of pity. If he knew I wasn't going to go, he'd start another campaign to cajole me into coming just so he could have one more person over whom he could feel superior With his endless rutting and bevy of horny hotties.

"I've got a lot of reading to do."

"Fuck that. It's Halloween! Girls, sluttish costumes, and booze equals epic win! Come on. I know someone who'd love to meet you." Suspicions confirmed, I sighed, leaning back to prop my feet on the desk.

"I need to get this done, man. Otherwise I would. Look... Just take a lot of pics for me. Those freshman girls... They're great for drunken nip slips and stuff."

"Well if you're sure." Chris already had his boots on. He picked up his keys and moved toward the door. "You know girls aren't all that bad, man. You just need to build up the confidence."

"I know. See ya later, Chris." He shrugged, and then left in an air of overly masculine swagger and cheap cologne.

"Later." I replied to the closed door.

Once I knew he was gone for certain, I got to my feet, turning off the music and starting toward our shower.

As hot water began to cascade down my body, I luxuriated in the feeling. I thought of my idea again and again. Was it wrong? Maybe. But tonight was the night for costumes. The invitation urged you to dress as something you're not, but there wasn't going to be anyone at the door to verify that fact. I was just taking my incognito status to an entirely new level.

Out of the shower, I brushed my hair, toweled off, and then slipped on a pair of black boxers. Over these, I drew a pair of tight black jeans and a long sleeved black shirt. The ski mask, boots, and gloves came last, and when I was through, I appraised my reflection in wonder.

The only thing that indicated who I really was was my eyes. But then again, half a million men in this city might have hazel eyes. I was an enigma and this was more than just my costume. It was my disguise. A disguise that hid the sort of awkward and introverted person I was, and exuded power, anonymity, and a little fear. I was the stuff of anxious housewives fantasies and bank owner's dread. But I wasn't out to take anything that wouldn't be offered freely. And with that thought, I grabbed a spare pillow case from a set of clean linen for my bed, my cell phone, and my keys, then headed out of my room and out into the violet hue of falling night.

The side streets that housed a great deal of college kids were already dotted with gathering crowds of revelers. Fraternity Row was positively clogged. Had I decided to hitch a ride, I doubt there would have been room to park. As it was, I couldn't walk more than a few feet in any direction without running into sexy genies, gory monstrosities replete with dripping blood and all, and a few Emo kids who merely wandered hither and yon with a cup of God only knew what clutched in their hand.

I recognized Caveman Chris (the costume wasn't too far off, actually) and knew he would be out to nail as many sorority pledges and sisters as he could. Deciding he knew where all the action would be, I followed him. Leaves crunched under my feet and grated against the pavement as he boldly shoved his way through a group of frat boys, followed by a chorus of "Hey, Bro! What's your problem?" and "What the fuck, man?" I followed right behind, slipping inside one of the huge houses amid a group of giggling freshmen like a shadow.

My first stop was the drink table. Empty apple cider containers and rum bottles were tossed haphazardly on the floor under the table, and three huge punch bowls of the autumn concoction stood front and center. A man dressed like the antagonist from the 'Saw' movie franchise was manning the cups, his muscle and build silently reinforcing the "Two bucks a cup." Sign on the wall above his left shoulder.

"Nice outfit. Don't steal any of our shit or I'll kick your ass," he warned in a humorless tone muffled by his mask. Normally, I would have offered a reassuring and complacent reply. But the inscrutability of my "nice outfit" was somehow emboldening. I could do whatever I wanted under cover of ski mask and baggy clothes, and no one would be the wiser. So in response, I merely offered a shrug, tucked my pillowcase beneath an elbow, tossed a couple bucks on the table, and filled a cup.

I took a swig and fire roared down my throat like a runaway freight car loaded with plastic explosives. My eyes teared up. Good thing I was unrecognizable, or else the brawny grunt by the table may have spread the word about how the skinny geek roommate of that Chris kid couldn't handle his liquor. It wasn't that I couldn't handle it. I just wasn't used to drinking cider mixed with alcohol strong enough to be used as rocket fuel.

Just as I turned around, Schoolgirl Kelly, Nurse Naughty and Wanton Witch strutted past in a haze of perfume, feminine laughter, and brightly lit smiles. Each carried their own cup, but somehow I doubted they'd had to pay for theirs. One of them saw me first. I think it was the witch. She paused, black skirt swirling around her hips, as she looked me up and down. I waved and she actually waved back, black lacquered nails gleaming in the dim overhead light. Nurse actually blushed, squeezing Witch's stuffed cat to her well-endowed bosom. But most fortuitously, Kelly actually took one step toward me, pale blue eyes searching me from top to bottom, and then focusing on my gaze. She smiled; a subtle quirking of baby pink lips that grabbed a hold of my junk and squeezed. Suddenly my jeans, baggy as they were, felt a bit too tight for comfort in specific areas. Nurse leaned over to whisper something in Kelly's ear, and the trio nodded, disappearing back into the crowd. Where were they going? I longed to follow them, but didn't want to look more like a stalker than I already did. So, I decided to see how the more popular half lived and just troll the crowd.

Soon enough, I was regretting the punch with a punch on an empty stomach. This particular boozy blend was hitting me harder than usual and mad ideas began to surface in my mind. The music was a rich tapestry of noise that only encouraged me, and all the flesh on display only fueled the fire. I didn't want to dance. I didn't want to talk with the philosophy majors who'd crashed the party. I wanted to get close to Kelly. Closer than I'd ever managed before. I wanted to feel how the softness of her uniform hugged her skin. I wanted to get lost in the dark, and lose myself inside her.

The transformation was amazing. Though I'd never do anything nearly as gutsy in a normal and proper frame of mind, I was propelled by the fleeting opportunity of tonight. One night a year when we could be anything we wanted to be. Anything we weren't, and I was not a forward, womanizing sort. But I knew there was no future beyond tonight with my pretty prey, and that knowledge was enough. I started to move carefully through the crowd. A cat burglar out to bag the ultimate treasure. Something hotter than stolen jewelry and more irresistible than an easy score.

Kelly was dancing to something that sounded suspiciously like Britney Spears, but considering that 90% of my music collection was indi rock and the remaining 10% classical, I couldn't be too sure. All the pop tarts these days seemed to sound the same, and truth be told, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that she was dancing, eyes closed and hips swaying, and she was dancing alone. Better than that, her constant companions seemed to have found other entertainments to occupy their time. Now was my chance, and though my hands wanted to shake and my throat tried to dry up, I glided toward her as if I'd been approaching beautiful girls since I was barely out of grammar school.

"You look great, schoolgirl. Come dance with me." I extended a gloved hand. Kelly's golden brows lifted, then knit in a brief frown of concentration. "No one so gorgeous should be dancing alone."

"Okay," she laughed nervously, peering up into my eyes. I was short, but she was shorter, which only helped inflate my swollen sense of macho (or was it liquid) courage. "Who are you under there?" One pearly pink nail gently tapped my chin and I smiled in spite of myself.

"Why, just your average run of the mill shifty sort and burglar, my dear. Don't worry. I won't invite you into my van. You'll have to ask to come in." Kelly grinned. Her face positively radiated unbridled coquetry. It must have been equally freeing for her to get lost in the crowd without hanging off the arm of that great heap of muscles and steroids she called a boyfriend.

We put our drinks together on an end table, took each other's hands, and started dancing. I hoped my pillowcase wouldn't tumble out of my pocket since it contained my phone. But my cock had shown no signs of flagging, so the pricey contents likely would remain there until I moved them myself.

We danced. We bounced through up-tempo songs and took a couple tenuous steps closer to one another for the slower ones. She talked about her friends, her classes, and her sorority sisters. I didn't say much, but nodded or offered a soft laugh where appropriate. At some point, she retrieved her cup and, winding one arm around my shoulder, she sipped her drink as we moved. Her hair smelled so nice. Like fruit and flowers, the scent hovering just a couple inches from my nose as I stared into her part. Her breasts, though small, pressed against my chest and distracted me from what she was saying. And the feel of her shoulder beneath the stiff white blouse was electrifying. Cool fabric over hot skin. Blood steadily pulsed into my cock until I thought I'd get dizzy. And as the songs went on and on, I feared I had an appointment with a cold splash of water and then an even colder walk home until Kelly looked up into my eyes. Her eyes were a little distant from drink, but not too much to negate the words she spoke.

"So tell me about this van." Warm, apple-scented breath puffed against my neck. I suppressed a shiver.

"Well you know, to be honest, I don't have a van. We'd have to make do with an empty bedroom. But I assure you, my darling student, that I would take great liberties with you under cover of darkness."

"Well I hope so." Kelly pressed tighter against me, blonde lashes fluttering. Holy shit! She must be a natural blonde! Damn I hoped to find out. "Because I don't have a yard stick in this bag, but think I've been a naughty enough school girl for at least a little open-palm spanking." Steady... This might just be a test to verify her feminine wiles were just as effective on complete strangers as they always were on boys in the frats. I was just the unfortunate target.

"Really," I mused, brows quirking beneath my mask. "You've earned a spanking? For what?" Kelly laughed, swilling some of her drink, briefly studying the remainder in her cup, and then downing the last bit with a shrug.

"It's a secret."

"I love secrets. You can tell me and I give you my word that your secret will be safe with me."

Kelly's fingertips cradled my chin, drawing my ear toward her glistening parted lips.

"Okay. Here it is. I love being a tease. Especially when I've had a few to drink. But tonight, I'm well..." she rubbed her tits against my chest, gently moving them back and forth a few times, the hard points of her nipples very obvious. "I'm really in the mood for a quick fuck. No strings. None of that shit. Just a fuck and that's it. My boyfriend won't ever know, and your girlfriend, if you have one, won't have to find out, either. Come on. I know the perfect place."

My feet wouldn't move. Even after she backed up a couple steps and beer-scented air rushed up my nose. This was too good to be true. She had to be joking. But she only paused once, looking back over her shoulder with a flirty wink, then rounded a corner and hurried up the stairs.

Did I want to know how she knew the best place to fuck here? Did I even believe she'd put out and not just lead me upstairs to maximize the humiliation of her teasing? I had no idea, but I did know that standing down here wasn't going to get me laid. At least not by one particularly luscious schoolgirl.

A rowdy cheer of men's voices erupted from across the capacious room, and all heads turned in that direction to see what had caused all the commotion. I took that opportunity to slink through the crowd, turning toward the dark staircase. From halfway up, Kelly met my eyes in the waning light, smiled, then gestured for me to follow. I hesitated only for a second, then my right foot ascended the first step, then the next, and then the next...

A faint luminescence emanated from a door left ajar down the pitch-dark hall by the time I reached the top. With one last exhalation to steady myself, I proceeded toward that light. As I passed a closed bedroom door, the shrill cries of another party guest and her lover penetrated the thick wood. My cock twitched and I walked a little faster.

Lust wasn't an unfamiliar animal. It prowled my dreams and sleepless hours in varying degrees. But now, it was behind the wheel, driving me forward into a room where people threw their hats and coats. Driving me to close the door behind us and then turn, beholding Kelly in the low glow of a street light right near the window. The curtains were open, and the room was bathed in ghostly silver light, and so was Kelly.

Her gilded pigtails now appeared to be brushed with platinum, and the porcelain beauty of her skin was radiant in the diffused light. My hands began to sweat inside my gloves. Hurriedly, I stripped them off and stuffed them into my back pockets.

She came to me silently, still wearing that impertinent little smile. Her hands slid up to my shoulders as we stared one another down.

"What do you want, little miss?" My lips grazed her brow and she shivered. "What's something you want from me that neither of us will ever have again?, little cocktease." I stepped away from her for but a brief moment, putting my pillow slip and it's contents down on the nightstand while I tried to take it all in. I was alone with a freshman sorority girl and she wanted to fuck me. Praise that athletics supply store for so generously granting me costume inspiration.