A Halloween Tail

"Come and meet Dave and Christie!"

I let her drag me along.

~

"Phil, come and meet Abby! She's my very best friend and lives just a short walk from here!"

"Hi," I held out my hand without enthusiasm. I was pretty sure Julia had introduced me to half the guests, and I was damned if I could remember any names. Who did she say this guy was? Phil?

"I'll leave you to get to know each other!" Julia smiled at me with encouragement, taking her exclamation marks with her when she left.

Cute guy in a sexy vampire costume. Save for being cute, or sexy.

I expected him to take my hand, but clearly he had other ideas. He bowed over it and brushed my knuckles with his lips, in a cringe-worthy impression of old-fashioned gallantry.

"I lurve your costume," he said as he straightened, affecting a truly awful Count Dracula accent.

"I'm not wearing one." Obviously.

"You 'av come dressed as ze beautiful woman, no?"

I smiled thinly, saying nothing. Perhaps, if he'd delivered his line with any sincerity, instead of that self-smug grin...

"Ze perfect prey for a vamp-i-rrrre such as myself." The accent was getting worse. He seemed unperturbed by my lack of response and smiled, flashing his ridiculous false teeth. I was certain he was more in love with himself than he could ever be with someone else.

"Your costume is very convincing," I said cooly. "And I love your accent. Is it the teeth giving you that lisp? Difficult to speak, I'm sure. At least you're trying."

"Er... yes." He looked taken aback, but only momentarily. "Perhaps I can get you a drink..." he raised his hand, reaching to cup my cheek. Oh, hell no. "...and afterward take you into a corner and bite your neck?"

The last inch of my white wine splashed across his face, dribbling down into his ridiculously over-sized collar. He stepped back in reflex, "Fuck!" No accent, that time.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Completely my fault! You startled me. I find vampires ever so scary." I blinked at him innocently, and beside us a couple laughed nervously.

I turned and walked away, leaving him dabbing at his costume with a handkerchief. I really hoped Julia hadn't brought me all the way over here just for that.

~

I glanced at the clock again: 11:24. If I made it to midnight then surely I could make my excuses and leave? Julia couldn't object, right?

I was sat on Julia's love seat in the corner of the flat, trying to avoid any further engagement. After the vampire fiasco, Julia had tried to introduce me to a few more people. I'd politely done my best. Small talk was like parties: something other people did.

Sighing, I realised I didn't even have a drink anymore. Fetching one risked losing the seat.

"Good evening. May I sit here?"

I glanced up in surprise, my eyes widening. I hadn't even seen her approach. She was dressed - barely - in the most fantastic of costumes: a black leather corset and thigh-high boots over fishnet stockings, complete with devil horns and... was that a tail? In each hand she held a wine glass, both full.

She was stunningly beautiful, her figure straight out of a Victoria's Secret catalogue, and her face was near-symmetrical perfection. Her raven hair was thick and lustrous as it cascaded far down her back, tied in a French braid so tight it gave me a headache just looking at it.

"Oh, um. Of course you can sit here. I'll... leave you both to it." The seat was supposed to be for two, after all.

I made as if to rise, but rather than step back to allow me space, the girl edged closer. "I brought you a drink," she said, slightly proffering one glass. "Won't you stay and talk to me?"

That wasn't what I'd expected. "Um... okay."

I accepted the glass and sat back in the seat. She had me on edge; coming up to me out of the blue, she was clearly used to playing in a completely different league. Dressed to kill... if Agathe Christie ever wrote 'Murder in the Bordello'. She was intimidatingly gorgeous, and she wanted to sit and talk. With me.

What about? I ran through my available small-talk lines. It didn't take me long.

The girl smiled, but rather than slip into the narrow space beside me, she chose instead to sit at my feet. She lowered gracefully, making the move seem natural and fluid, and I felt her body press in against my legs. It was as if she'd been sitting there all evening and left merely to fetch new drinks.

My breath caught in my throat. The position was surprisingly intimate, yet the girl seemed perfectly relaxed. As though sitting at a stranger's feet wearing a devilish boudoir costume was something she did every day.

"Cheers," she said, holding up her wine glass.

"Cheers," I murmured, chinking my glass delicately in response. She took a sip, and I did the same, using the moment to try and catch up. A lot seemed to have happened very swiftly.

I looked away, trying to compose myself as I checked to see if anyone was staring at our cozy tableau. All seemed oblivious, engaged instead in their own worlds.

I glanced down as I felt her intertwine her hands across my knee, in time to see her prop her chin on top. She'd put her wine glass somewhere and I hadn't seen.

She let her head fall gracefully ever so slightly to one side and looked up at me, and the effect was touchingly endearing.

Who was this girl? Julia certainly hadn't introduced us.

I could feel her body pressed full-length against my legs, the leather of her corset against the leather of my boots. While she watched me struggle to get a handle on the situation, she amused herself by drawing little circles with one fingertip on the top of my bare knee, the movement so slight she didn't even need to remove her chin.

Silence lingered, and it was as if the girl with the horns seemed content to sit quietly, pressed against me. I, on the other hand, was feeling increasingly awkward. I should say something.

"I love your costume," I blurted, then glanced away as my cheeks heated in embarrassment. Oh, that was real smooth.

The girl smiled slowly, evidently finding something entertaining. Me, probably. "Thank you. Truth be told, I didn't have much choice in what I wore tonight."

Such a graceful answer. And such a stunningly charming smile.

"Oh, me too! I... I don't have a costume." I didn't know why I kept pointing that out.

"I think you look quite lovely as you are," came the girl's reply, and one hand disengaged from under her chin and slipped gently along my leg, her fingers playing lightly with the delicate skin of my inner thigh. My breath caught in my throat. Was this merely her way? Casual intimacy? Did it mean something... or nothing?

"Thank you," I whispered, not sure how else to respond.

So, I wasn't the most worldly in the area of sex. I mean, I wasn't a virgin - there'd been a couple of men during my travels - but when you're socially awkward and your wardrobe contains more hoodies than bikinis, most of your erotic experience came from the reading material you chose.

I hadn't even been with a girl. Kissed one, once. At university. The way everyone does.

And now this gorgeous creature had settled at my feet, making herself quite at home. Her unruffled, gracious composure only served to emphasise my lack of the same. She may have placed herself at my feet in the more submissive position, but she was in total control.

I gripped my wine glass with both hands, trying not to tremble and spill it on her.

All the while I was incredibly conscious of her fingers idly playing with my leg, just beneath the hem of my skirt. It was as if she were challenging me to call her on it... or perhaps to spread my knees and blatantly give her more access.

I felt my stomach squirm, and knew she was turning me on. I didn't even know I was into girls - but, to be fair, anyone with eyes would be into this one. She'd done nothing more than be friendly, and her touches were innocent enough to be explained away as idle play - though the way they burned across my skin felt anything but innocent.

If she hadn't been dressed like a cross between a Boudoir Mistress and a kitten girl, I could perhaps have given her the benefit of the doubt.

But she had horns. No one who chose to wear horns could ever be completely innocent... could they?

She just sat and watched me, a small smile on her lips, as though she were perfectly aware of the confusion she'd garnered and was enjoying her effect. She was walking the line perfectly between plausible deniability and sexual intrigue, and the little minx knew it.

We couldn't just sit here like this all evening. Well, she looked like she could... but I'd be a trembling mess in minutes. She was affecting me deeply.

Desperately, I sought something intelligent to say. "I love your horns. What a nice touch. And your tail. It's so realistic." Okay, so not all that intelligent. The best I could do, given the circumstances.

She seemed to bathe in the praise. "Oh, this old thing?" she asked, her hand leaving my knee to pick up her tail. It seemed to rise to meet her hand, but it could've been a trick of the light. "I've had it for years. But it suits the look, don't you think?"

She raised the hand holding her tail, and I could see it more clearly. It looked almost feline in nature, like a panther's. Soft, and sleek. A dense coating of fine, black hair. But unlike a cat's tail, hers ended in a triangle, and it looked sharp and pointed.

She let it fall to rest across my skirt, and I could feel the weight of it. To my surprise the tip seemed to lash gently back and forth, exactly like the cat's tail it resembled - save for the wicked-looking spear on the end.

How the hell was she making it do that? Some prop.

"It's mesmerising," I said, because it truly was. "So lifelike. Er... how... how do you... er... keep it on?"

Wow, I was all kinds of smooth tonight.

"Keep it on?" She grinned impishly. The emphasis on the preposition hung in the air, the implication clear that it wasn't quite correct. I swallowed nervously.

"Wow, that's... kinda hot." I couldn't imagine walking around with something like that inside my ass all evening. Let alone sitting. At someone's feet, no less.

So definitely not innocent, then.

I momentarily looked away, resisting the urge to fan my face. The party seemed to be in full swing, but strangely we were being ignored. I wasn't going to argue with that, but I was surprised she wasn't fetching more glances. She was easily the sexiest creature in the room, even without knowing how the tail stayed... in.

Something brushed against my knee, high enough to be beneath the hem of my skirt, and I jumped, almost spilling my wine. I glanced down. She was caressing me with the point of her tail, her hand lightly holding it some few inches back from the tip.

Her gaze met mine, her expression playful. "Do you like that?"

It was far softer than I'd anticipated. She stroked my inner thigh, and a shiver ran through me.

"Yes," I whispered.

She smiled, then leant forward and placed her lips on my knee, kissing. Her tongue flicked out as she did so, and I felt it wet and warm against my skin.

Fuck. My arousal skipped several steps as it spiked violently upwards.

She inched her tail up along my thigh and I twitched, pressing my legs together, trapping it. "People will see," I objected. Why had I said that? What I'd meant to say was... stop. Wasn't it?

"No they won't," she smiled as if amused, and her other hand squeezed my calf over the supple leather of my boot.

There were so many people in here, how could our little display not be observed? I looked up, but wherever I peeked, people were focused on each other, not even glancing our way.

Between my thighs her tail wriggled. I had no idea how she'd even done that. It wasn't just the tip that felt soft; the whole length of it was so silky. And warm, like... skin. Like it was real. One seriously impressive costume.

It was a costume, right?

She wore a dark lipstick, almost black, with matching eyeliner and a vivid purple eyeshadow, all lightly and artistically applied. But it was her features that were striking. I looked at her again, closely, drinking in the high cheekbones, the delicate lips, her almond eyes. Such intelligent eyes. Her irises were dark, as dark as I could remember seeing. Contacts? It matched the costume, I supposed.

She'd really gone to some lengths.

Why the hell was she interested in me?

My eyes lifted to the horns on her head: two little pointed nubs, no larger than my thumb. They nestled in her hair, toward the front of her head. Slightly wider-spaced than her eyes. They looked hard, shiny, like obsidian reflecting the light.

I couldn't see how she held them on. There was no obvious headgear, no ties.

Between my legs her tail lightly caressed my skin. She was very, very good with it, hardly moving her hand at all as she controlled it. It was a sensuous, pleasant, sensation. It reminded me of a massage I'd once had with a mink glove.

My arousal was increasing. It seemed natural to part my thighs, to give her more access. It wasn't even a subconscious decision. She slid the tail gently forward. I gasped softly; one more inch and it would be brushing up against my underwear.

Reflexively, I grasped her hand, pinning it, then looked up to see her watching me, her eyes dancing with amusement and a playful smile on her lips.

"Having fun?" I asked, dryly. She was toying with me, and she knew it. She was arousing me, and she knew that too.

"Just beginning to."

The tip of her tail edged forward again, and now I couldn't help but squirm. I gripped her hand in mine, pulling it off her tail. "People will see!" I whispered. One glance our way and it would be obvious what we were doing.

What were we doing?

It was ironic that it would be obvious to the casual onlooker, but I didn't have a clue. Story of my life.

She pouted but allowed me to take her hand, releasing her tail. Without her hand guiding it, I'd expected it to slip from between my legs. It didn't.

"Why did you stop me?"

I glanced up, guilty, expecting to see people staring at us. No one appeared to have noticed. It didn't make me feel much better.

"People will see," I said again. Did she not understand?

"Oh. Why don't you want anyone to see?"

"Because... because it's embarrassing!" I was an introvert. Attention of any kind made me quail inside, and if anyone saw what she was doing between my legs... I'd just die.

I squirmed again, but this time with mortification, glancing about me. This girl - whose name I didn't even know - was beguiling me, confusing me. It had all happened so quickly - in mere moments since she had come up to me, she'd sat herself at my feet and worked her tail between my legs as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Someone was bound to notice. And Julia was around here, somewhere. What would she think of this?

"Is that your only objection?" she asked, her hand turning in mine, her fingertips laying against the pulse on my wrist. It was distracting.

"What?" I felt I was missing something.

"Is your only objection that you don't want people to see?"

I frowned, confused. "Yes," I said.

"Then they won't," she said, as if the matter was settled.

Her tail squirmed forward again, pushing between my thighs. I felt the pointed tip of it slip beneath my underwear, tucking itself around one edge of the thin, lacy material. The warm, silky-soft touch of it brushed against my vulva.

I jumped at the touch, staring at her. Her tail had far too much dexterity, and her hand was in mine. Her other was still squeezing my lower leg. How the hell...?

Oh fuck. O-kay then.

"What are you?" I'd finally worked it out.

She smiled at me. "You already know."

Her tail pulled the material of my panties away, then lightly brushed down across my labia. I shivered.

"Please don't!" I begged, "I don't want people to see!"

"They won't. Can you see anyone looking?"

I glanced up again. No one was even aware we were here. Here was a beautiful girl, half naked in a leather corset, sitting at my feet while she played with me. Half the room should've been watching her, and yet I hadn't seen a single peek come our way.

She lowered her lips to my knee and kissed me again. It was a strangely gentle thing; the sensation of her soft lips pressing to my kneecap. She must've known it wasn't an erogenous zone, and yet she did it almost lovingly.

From a Lust Demon I'd expected pure carnality, not this sophisticated seduction.

I was suddenly curious. "Can you... can you feel anything with your tail?"

Somehow she turned the end of her tail, running the tip of the point along the cleft of my lips. If she hadn't demonstrated such perfect control I'd have been worried to have something so... sharp... in such an intimate place. But though it had looked sharp it had never felt sharp.

She looked up at me, smiling against my knee, not lifting her face. It was cute. "I feel everything."

Uh huh. Did she know how wet I was?

"Everything?" my voice sounded high.

She licked my skin again, even as she teased me with her tail. "Everything." There was no room for doubt in her tone.

I shivered.

She tugged at my panties as though they were in the way. I supposed they were. I felt her pull the material away from my pussy; it pulled across my hips and wedged between my bottom cheeks. It wasn't particularly comfortable, yet it was another reminder of the intimacy of what she was doing.

"This clothing you wear... is it of any importance?"

"Huh?" She had me so distracted, and I hadn't really followed the question.

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

There was a faint snip sound and abruptly the pull on my hips relaxed. The gusset came loose, as though it had been... cut.

I stared down at her, my eyes wide. "How did you do that?"

"How do you think?"

So much for not being sharp.

Her tail flicked across my labia again, but the trust had gone.

"Stop," I said, reaching between my knees and grasping her tail there. I pulled firmly, but she didn't fight me. It was easy to move it, and then she curled it back on itself and rubbed it gently against my knee.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and there was confusion in her eyes. It was the first expression I'd seen from her that showed any doubt. Until that moment, she'd exuded confidence and control.

"I... I'm sorry. I'm just not comfortable with having something so... sharp... near my..." I trailed off, blushing. Why did I have to explain myself? It was like she had a blade on the end of her tail, and who would be happy with... such a thing... in such an intimate place?

I was still trying to get my head around the fact that it was her tail.

She pouted. It was the only word for it. Her bottom lip came out in a very definite sulk, her eyebrows knitted together, and her eyes were downcast. It would've been comical if it hadn't been so pathetic.

I hadn't meant to upset her. I'd responded instinctively.

"You... you don't like my tail?" There was a quiver in her voice. A noticeable tremor.

Ah crap. I'd upset the Lust Demon. Could this evening get any weirder?

For the moment, I only had to deal with puppy-dog eyes. But now that I'd upset her, how quickly would that change? 'Emotionally stable' wasn't a notion one commonly associated with a demon.

I felt a thrill of fear run through me. Was she... safe? Could I risk pissing her off?

"No... no, not at all! Your tail is amazing!" and it was easy to inject enthusiasm into my voice. She really did have the most incredible appendage. The feel of it, the dexterity of it, the fact that one moment it could tease so gently, and the next cut through material like a... well, like a very, very sharp knife. A very, very sharp knife that had been in extremely close proximity to things I didn't want anywhere near a very, very sharp knife.