The Costume Party

He had not been to a costume party in years. He looked about the crowded room with mild amusement. At fifty years old, he hesitated at the thought of attending this type of event, but it was promised to be an elaborate affair. The theme required guests to dress as fictional characters, wear masks and try to disguise their voices until midnight, when true identities would be revealed. There was a website set up requesting invitees to enter their name, email address and a comment entry box that began with "I chose this character because for just one night I want to....." . This information was to made available to all attendees after midnight. That was one of the reasons he decided to attend, he admired the cleverness and innovation. Since the guest list would include both friends and business associates, it also doubled the social obligations he felt compelled to fulfill. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that it would be fun to see what everyone chose and learn why.

He debated over his choice of characters, settling finally on one that appealed to his sense of uniqueness and mirrored, in a metaphorical way, his life. When he entered the hotel ballroom that night, he was both disappointed and somewhat pleased with himself in what he saw. There were several groups of Avengers, various crew members of the starship Enterprise, and a few iterations of the Star Wars cast. Even with the addition of several historical figures and generic witches, it was obvious almost everyone's inspiration was derived from popular movies. He knew there were friends and coworkers among the Hollywood icons, but so far had not been able to discern anyone's identity, and he was sure that no one recognized him or his character. He choose a character from a classic literature novel that was so complex it was never turned into a film. He had achieved his goal, he was unique. Until he saw her.

She entered the room wearing a simple black bustier with black feathered wings folded behind her. Her long dark flowing hair framed the black mask that covered the upper part of her face. From the waist down, she was draped in a shimmering green scaly fabric that trailed like a tail as she moved. Her legs were bare except for the leather strapping of her sandals. He was intrigued for the first time in the evening. Impossible, he thought. She couldn't have. He slowly made his way through the crowd, not wanting to appear too eager. She was at the bar, getting a glass of wine, and she turned towards him as he approached. It was then he noticed she was much younger than most of the others in the room. What was visible to his eyes revealed a woman perhaps in her twenties or early thirties. His mind scanned through the possibilities of her identity but he could think of no one he expected to be there. At his age, it was not in his habit to approach younger women in social settings, so he hesitated. She noticed his momentary pause and her full lips broadened into a smile which abated his uneasiness.

He quickly regained his composure. "Do we know each other?" he asked in his best gravely Batman voice.

Her smile turned to a momentary look of surprise at his question. There was a tentative pause, after which her smile returned. She looked at his identical black folded wings, his faux-leather tunic, his long plastic sword strapped to his hip and answered in her best breathy sultry voice. "Yes, it appears we do. "

"I know only two people around your age who are familiar with Paradise Lost" he smiled back.

"You've broken character, that's not the kind of thing Archangel Michael, mighty leader of God's army would say," she with the slightest admonishment.

He was relieved his subtle acknowledgement of their age difference was answered playfully. He knew at his age when talking to a younger woman, there was a fine line between friendly chitchat and creepy flirting. He was fascinated both by her knowing of his favorite novel and who she had chosen to be. Her wanting to remain in character made it, well, fun. "Of course, Sin, fallen angel, daughter of Satan, Princess of Temptation."

She nodded her head, as if to acknowledge his introduction, "you forgot to mention I am not just the Dark Lord's daughter"

He smiled, surprised by the rather audacious reference to her character's incestuous background. "You are so wicked" he quipped.

"I know" she she said proudly.

"So should we be fighting?" He asked, moving his hand to his sword hilt.

She laughed, took a sip of her wine, cocked her head aside and answered "For tonight, let's just put our differences aside, can we?"

They continued their exchange, staying in character, drifting apart at moments throughout the evening, returning occasionally in a flirtatious duel of clever comments in reference to Paradise Lost. He found himself questioning whether she was deliberately being coquettish or just cleverly maintaining her character. No one else he had spoken with had the wit or imagination to be so faithful to their chosen avatar. It was getting close to midnight, he had been drinking quite a bit and his attraction to this woman was overtaking his self-imposed caution.

"It's growing late, have you found this occasion worthy of your presence, Princess?" He asked, finding her momentarily alone.

She glanced around the room, "Why do people think I'm a dragon?" She clucked her tongue and shook her head in mocked disappointment. "Not one of these souls know who I am," she said tapping him lightly on the chest with her fingers, "except you."

The gesture distracted him, stirred him. But I don't know who you are. "The ignorance of men makes it difficult sometimes to do my job. If I didn't love my boss so much, I'd retire."

She hid her mouth and muffled a laugh. "so are you returning to heaven after midnight?"

He glanced up towards the ceiling. "I've had too much to drink to go that far. I have a place to rest on the 7th floor."

For the second time in the evening, he noticed her hesitate, as if trying to decide something. "I'd like to see that if you want me to" she finally said.

His heart made the proverbial leap in his chest. Seriously? This is happening? He heard himself say yes before he realized it. "After the reveal?" he added, wanting her to say no.

She glanced around the room once more, "I really don't care to know who these people are or why they chose to be Wonder Woman with back cleavage or Thor with a beer belly. I prefer we leave our masks on and stay in character until midnight. This is why I came here tonight. She held out her hand. "To lead an angel into temptation."

He took her hand in his. "Then lead me, Dark Princess."

They rode the elevator and walked to his room in expectant silence. Never in his entire life had he been accompanied to his room by a woman he had just met, let alone one that may be half his age. He was somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed, so he poured two stiff drinks from the minibar and handed her one. He gestured to his sword. "May I?"

She took a sip and laughed softly again, closing the small distance between them to remove his sword from his belt, laying it on the table. She reached down and removed her serpents tail, revealing a bikini bottom made from the same green shimmering material. A single delicate gold chain encompassed her waist below her navel. From it hung several small gold pendants, each bearing the image of a ferocious dog head. Sin. Half angel, half serpent. Surrounded by her hell hounds. Her costume was truly brilliant. She held her hands aside in a gesture that invited him to gaze at her and allow his eyes to linger on her form.

He did so, and after a few moments became self conscious of his wide eyed stare and turned around to ask, "and these too?" She deftly removed his wings.

He gestured for her to turn, but she said, "No, I want to wear them. But I want to you to be as comfortable as you like."

He was thoroughly enjoying this role play. He removed the rest of his costume, leaving on only his boxers, hoping his eagerness wasn't overly obvious just yet. He sensed she was taking her time and he wanted to follow her lead, he sat down on the bed, leaning against the plush headboard. She walked to the beside and dimmed the room lights to a dull glow. She fiddled with her phone for a moment before placing it on the nightstand. Gentle instrumental music he could not recognize drifted from the tiny speakers as she knelt gracefully beside him. The glow of the city lights from the open curtains behind her enveloped her in an ethereal glow. He could see her soft skin, the swell of her firm breasts, the outline of her wings. And she was so close he could now smell her perfume, a scent that seemed new yet somehow familiar to him.

He didn't want to move aggressively and risk spoiling the moment, and it was obvious to him she wanted to be in control. She silently let him simply admire her, and he felt compelled to tell her how beautiful she looked. He struggled to continue staying in character as he took a sip from his drink and asked, "so what temptation would you offer a virtuous warrior of God?"

She smiled demurely, her hand resting gently on his bare thigh. "Without your sword and wings, you are no longer an Archangel. You are a man. And the path to every man's temptation begins in his most secret desires." She rose up on her knees, unzipped her bodice. She posed for a moment to allow him to take it all in. His mind seemed divided into a dreamy state by her voice and image but part of it grasped at the reality of the situation. Her firm smallish breasts and slim figure wearing only the tiny shimmering panties, a chain that seemed to almost sparkle with its own energy, wings which he thought had been attached to her bodice still somehow appeared over her shoulders. He pushed that small incongruity aside in his mind. She aroused him so much, it didn't matter.

He was aware he wanted to repeat "secret desires", and he wasn't sure if he heard himself say it or only heard his own voice in his head. The part of his mind that clung to reality told him he was becoming increasingly lightheaded, slightly disoriented, more than simply drunk. And that mind within a mind wondered for a second if he had fallen into some elaborate scheme to drug and rob him. But as she spoke, her voice became increasingly hypnotic. Her wings framed behind her, her mask revealing only her sultry eyes, her hand gently caressing his legs and chest, made him push aside his concerns and beckoned him go let go, to be drawn deeper and deeper into her role play.

"Tell me your secret desires." he saw her full lips mouth the words but he only heard her voice inside his head now. He tried to say he didn't have any but his speech seemingly failed him. Her caresses inched up his thigh under the hem of his boxers. "Every man does." Her words answering his thoughts. "Something you dare tell no one else, and struggle to not even tell yourself. But it is there. I feel it. And I have come for it." With her free hand she grasped his, placing it gently on her breast. "Who is it you have yearned to touch like this?" It had been decades since he had touched a young woman's body and the feel of her breast and hardened nipple against his palm brought a flush of emotion, he felt his heartbeat make ripples through his liquid interior. Her hand slipped higher under the hem of his boxers, and despite his confused state he realized he was as hard as he had ever been. He felt an exquisite energy when her fingers brushed him beneath the thin cloth. He could only listen to her now, he felt lost in her illusion and sensed something intangible reaching inside of him, pulling on something she had discovered. Her fingers traced lightly along his shaft barely touching it. Waves of pleasure radiated from her touch, rising through his body. "When you are alone and you pleasure yourself, what do you think about?"

"Women" he whispered softly, drowsily. The waves of pleasure deepening, rising towards his head.

"Not just any women though. Someone you know. Someone you can't admit desiring?" She gently released him from his boxers and very slowly began to stroke him.

He was falling, floating downward into a deeper dream. A part of him felt the need to resist. He tried to say "I don't know" but nothing came out.

"Let me be her" he heard her say inside him.

What is happening to me? Is she reading my mind? "No" he barely whispered.

She leaned towards him to whisper in his ear. He could feel her warm sweet breath vibrate against the side of his head, and the difference between her external and internal sounds disappeared. "There is something about my story that fascinates you, isn't there. Perhaps, it is the ultimate temptation that I represent? The forbidden fruit of your passionate desire, locked away inside you. Is that what I feel here?" She stop stroking momentary to squeeze him, and he felt an almost orgasmic pulse. Yet he sensed this was only the onset and he desired more. He needed more.

He thought he had missed it somehow, the moment when he entered this deep dream state. As her gentle touch filled him with pleasure,, something else was reaching deep into him to find what she was looking for. She leaned towards his face, the lips below her mask asking, "Is that who it pains you to desire?"

"Yes" he whispered.

And then in his head, her voice echoed, "I can take away that pain. Let me be her"

He heard the sound of a harp. Beautiful harmonic chords resonated softly and he could feel it against his skin. Angels' music? Somewhere in his addled mind he was cognizant that was the alarm clock tone of her iPhone. "It's midnight " she said, gingerly lifting away his mask. She smiled at him, and he could only stare back as she lifted her mask and revealed her face, he completely lost sense of what was real and and what was illusion.

"Amanda" felt himself crying, not in pain, but in relief of a heavy burden.

"Daddy" she answered softly, and he could only watch as she locked her eyes on his, and slowly engulf his throbbing member in her soft warm mouth. And that became his entire focus. Her eyes on his, her hands stroking and caressing him, her lips, tongue and mouth sending waves of pleasure through him that he never felt before. He had no basis of comparison in his life experience. This eclipsed every sexual pleasure he had ever received. This was something else more akin to a sacred ritual of devotion. She was slow and deliberate, sometimes deep with spikes of intensity, always with a grace that he could only conceptualize as reverent adoration. He caressed her hair with the purest affection, as his secret dream played out before him.

"Amanda" he moaned.

She stopped sucking for a moment, but continued to stroke him slowly. "Yes daddy?"

He tried to express his urge in a emotionally significant way but all he could manage was a primal conditioned response, a whispered warning of consideration, "I'm going to come".

Her response was both an impassioned plea and a tender request. "Come in my mouth daddy. Please. We both want this."

Those words echoed from the depths of a hundred repressed fantasies and opened the gates, part of his soul broke off like a flare from the surface of the Sun, flowing through his body into the channel she created with her mouth. He exploded furiously in her beckoning mouth, and she was waiting for his release with fervent anticipation, his climax intense and seeming to last almost too long for his heart to bear. Tears ran down his cheeks and he sank into the bed, exhausted, spent. She lovingly swallowed every drop except for a few that ran down her chin, still sucking gently. The last thing he saw before he drifted out of consciousness was her looking at him lovingly, just a trace of his his milky fluid dripping for her lips and she had never looked as beautiful to him as she did at that moment, infinite love and unbridled satisfaction glowing in her face.

He awoke in the morning slightly groggier than usual. He sat up in the bed and tried to clear his head. Something seemed off. He was alone in the room, hIs costume lay scattered on the floor. There was no sign anyone else had been there. Was I that drunk? But he remembered everything. Drugged? Somehow hypnotized. No, none of that happened, i just imagined it. He tried shaking the thought from his mind. It wasn't Amanda. Could not be. He wasn't even sure if there had been a masked girl dressed as Sin from Paradise Lost who came with him to his room last night. Mask! He noticed it was on the table next to his sword and wings, and there was another next to him in bed. He picked up, looked at it for a clue. Nothing. He jumped out of bed, his head aching slightly, tripping on the sheets, recovering his balance and crossed the room to clutch the other mask off the table. He turned it over and over again. Still nothing. But now he knew she was real, a mysterious costumed woman. Did she drug me? Hypnotize me? Trick me somehow with the illusion of Amanda? He glanced at his expensive watch, wallet and phone on the nightstand, untouched. His eyes lingered on his phone, and it became harder to once more suppress any thought that it somehow had been her. How would she know? Did I mention the party to her? She knows some of my friends. Facebook? He had to know, he grasped his phone in his sweaty hand and the screen came alive. Her face smiled at him for his locked screen wallpaper. He shuddered slightly. His contact list, the first "A" in the series at the very top. She lived hours away. Should I call her? What do I say? The conflict of both wanting to know and not raged in his heart. I can't call her.

He remembered the website for the party and quickly sat down with his laptop and opened the page. He tapped the table top impatiently as he waited for the page to load. There was a spreadsheet as promised with all the attendees. He scrolled alphabetically through the character names, and there between Scarlet O'Hara and Superman one through five, he saw it. Sin. No name, no email address. He heart beat faster as he clicked on the comment box. He felt himself shivering as if cold, but it was an uncontrollable nervousness manifesting as he braced himself to read the text. Typed in a font that appeared to be familiar handwriting he read, "I chose this character because for just one night, I want to ......be a secret desire".