If Only Jason Got To See The Ending

A/N: After a long hiatus, I am back and in full effect. I hope everyone enjoys reading my works of art just as much as I enjoy writing them. Have a safe and sexy Halloween.

~QueenOfTheNile~

*

I sat and watched Jason decapitate some random Asian woman in an abandoned boat house with one of his mysteriously-appearing-out-of-nowhere machetes; happily munching on a bucket caramel corn, two taffy apples, and a handful of chocolate. I absolutely hated, and I do mean hated Halloween. Children would fuck up my yard with trillions of orphaned multi-colored candy wrappers, teenagers "teepee" my tree with a pack and a half of super-absorbent Charmin, and hoodlums, without fail, always manage to joyride and/or cause extensive damage to my annually upgraded vehicle. This year, I upgraded from a '05 Ford Focus to an Audi A4. Not a bad swap if you ask me-considering how I barely paid a red cent for the Audi given my impeccable credit history- and certainly a very nice upgrade from a, as these young kids call it nowadays, "lame" car. I dreaded to coming but rejoiced the going of Halloween each year. Besides the morbidly obese amounts of candy and sweets I could consume without being looked down upon as some gorging lunatic, there were and still are no upsides to Halloween.

But I was not always this cynical when it came to Halloween. Like any other kid, when I was a young girl I looked forward to Halloween every year starting in August. The first sign of autumn hitting was my indication that Halloween was only around the corner. At first, I was prohibited from celebrating the holiday because of its negative connotations. My mother was, and still is, a religious freak- one that says "Jesus" and "In God's Name" before and after every sentence without fail- and did not believe in celebrating "The Devil's Birthday". I used to feel left out in all the Halloween parties that would occur after school and during the weekend because of my religious reasons. I wasn't even allowed to consume the festive candy; and being a chubby little girl in grade school and being denied candy was downright vicious and evil. I became cynical of the holiday as I grew older. Being "full-figured" on Halloween was and still is not the best thing for Halloween, especially when tight, form-fitting costumes are thrown in the mix. In high-school, I found out that Halloween was not just a day for free candy. Oh, no. It was a day that every girl in America could dress like a complete slut and get away with it without any repercussions. When I tried that, however, it did not go so well and I was not only humiliated and taunted for attempting be a naughty catholic school girl, but grew to detest and resent the once beloved holiday.

"Baby, you watching another Jason flick?"

I nodded in my boyfriend's direction without breaking contact with my Jason. He was now slicing some poor white girl in a shed with his machete to a badly composed musical piece. I was considering watching the Exorcist once the movie was over- the original, not any horribly remade knockoffs- but I was leaning more towards Freddy. He was always a favorite of mine. The concept of killing you while you slept was epic and scared me shitless since I was eleven.

"You sure you don't want to come to this costume party with me? Devon said you were more than welcome to attend."

I nodded again, still not breaking eye-contact with Jason. This time he was in the middle of fighting this random black guy. "I'm ok sitting here and watching a few horror flicks."

He sighed lightly. "Alexia, I really wish you come. I would love for you to be there." I could hear him shuffle from the foyer to the kitchen and back, sipping loudly on what I knew to be the last of his remaining cranberry juice he had in the fridge since yesterday. He really did love cranberry juice; almost as much as I adored chocolate- Reese's peanut butter cups to be precise. "Will you at least look at me?

I paused Jason and turned around to see Marcus scantily clad in nothing but a leopard print loincloth and some leopard print loafers. His deep-brown, chocolate skin was lathered in baby oil to produce a well glistened look that accentuated his rather large chest and arm tattoos. His well-carved torso had me at a loss for words. His protruding six-pack shone ever-so brightly while those hard, lean pectorals quietly beckoned me with loud calls. His arms were chiseled to perfection as his neat and freshly redone dread-locks hung low and rested upon his shoulders freely. That little "cut" right below the torso were where my eyes went to last and had me salivating more than Pavlov's hungry dogs. The ladies know that little V-shaped cut right down there with the small little nest of black curls that lead to the ultimate prize. It drives me insane and gets me aroused to the point where I have to either finger-fuck myself or go mad. I smiled and quietly closed my legs to soothe my aching heat.

Damn he looked good. "Nice outfit, Tarzan."

He graced a small smile before posing and pretending to beat his chest. I could see his penis poke out slightly as he leaned back to let out a Tarzanian howl, that soft pinkish brown tip peeking out at me, mocking me, if not laughing at me. I crossed my legs even tighter.

"Okay, Tarzan." I breathed, "You don't want to wake the landlord."

"I wouldn't have to if my love would come with me to his costume party." He retorted back sarcastically.

"Yeah, I'm sure baby. Have fun." I let out a small giggle, "But, what's with the loafers?"

Marcus looked down and scoffed. "They were the only thing that really went with the loincloth. I'll be damned if I walk out in some flip-flops in fifty degree weather."

"Well you look good baby, damn good." I emphasized the last words with a small purr before casting a sinful smile. "Have a good time, tell Devon hello, and bring me back some sweets."

I could hear Marcus step away from the door and walk towards the loveseat. He gently set his car keys on the coffee table before wrapping his arms around me from behind, kissing my neck ever-so-sweetly. He knew my neck was my most sensitive spot and could perform dark magic to my needy body. Marcus and I haven't made-love just yet because of my insecurities, but we have engaged in a few intimate acts here and there. I refuse to allow him to see me naked, get undressed, or hold me too close to the point where he can feel too much "softness" contrasted against his hard, sexy body. Dozens of times he has tried to tell me a fabricated lie of how beautiful I am or how I am perfect the way I was, but I was not trying to hear it. I have been fed so many insults about my weight from so many malicious people for so long, that they all became factual in my mind. It remained a security blanket for me, but an obstacle for him. After damn-near four years of dating and the most he has gotten from me was a little penis nibbling, I know he has become frustrated.

"Marcus" I cooed, "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you." He responded softly, reaching a single hand downwards towards my ample breasts. "Do you mind?"

I gently shook my head and coerced his hand into the confinements of my bra. I was wearing nothing but a loose grey V-neck lounge shirt and some panties, so it was quite easy for him to gain access. I quietly moaned as he began to massage my right breast, tweaking my nipple every so often to elicit that euphoric wave of blissful satisfaction. His hands were the epitome of perfection for a man's hands. They were soft and smooth as silk, but strong and hard like a man's should be. Soft enough to resemble a feather's light embrace but hard enough to grip my waist and straddle my delicate body atop of his calloused one-which is exactly what he did. Without his hand leaving the warmth of my 42D's, Marcus climbed over the back of the loveseat and expertly used his free hand to grab my waist and bring me atop of his lap. I only broke our kiss for small gasps of air between finding myself devouring his luscious lips and clawing away at his smooth, oily body. I pressed myself firmly against him, my fully-erect nipples rushing across his chest through the gaunt fabric of my tee. With each brisk movement, he palmed my chest harder and in return, I got wetter.

"What about the party?" I asked in between kisses, "Devon is expecting you."

"I'm going to go, but you are coming with me."

I pulled away completely and gave him a quizzical expression. He bit his bottom lip slightly and began working off my panties, his deep-brown eyes never diverting away from my grey ones. "Marcus, I told you I don't like..."

"Alexia, you are going." He eventually got frustrated with the garment he'd been toying with for the past few moments and ended up ripping the fabric altogether, throwing it somewhere towards Jason. I was a little upset because I had just bought those from Lane Bryant during their semi-annual panty sale but got over it as soon as I felt Marcus' fingers brush against my wet heat. "And you are wearing a costume."

"What!?"

He nodded and inserted two digits, his right hand now leaving my chest and grabbing my full, supple backside. I cried in ecstasy in his ear as his fingers moved in and out of my tight cavern painfully slow. "I bought you a bunny-costume; something simple being your first Halloween in damn-near eight years." He touched my G-spot and I bellowed cries of immense pleasure throughout our one-bedroom apartment. "Baby steps, Alexia."

"I...can't". I said in-between pants, "I...won't."

"Devon will be disappointed if you do not show up."

"He is your co-worker and fraternity brother; I am sure he wants you there more than me."

"Alexia, you know that's not true." He whispered in my ear, those god-sent fingers moving at a much faster pace as I bucked my hips against them. It was the moments like these where I wanted to say to hell with my insecurities and allow Marcus to take my virginity, finally. I was on fire, my body radiating heat from passion, lust, and desire to have his thick dick inside my tight virgin flower, pounding away at it with no mercy as he brought me to a catastrophic orgasm. I could tell he wanted to, badly. His penis was gently poking at my entrance unintentionally. With Marcus being blessed with length and width, he could not help where "he" landed once he was fully erect. God, how I wanted to just put him inside me and ride him like the untamed, black stallion he is; winding my hips like a Moroccan dancer as I whispered dirty wishes into his ear like a ghetto porn star. "Devon would appreciate you there just as much as he would me."

I kissed him softly as he moved me from being atop of his lap to being strewn out across our leather loveseat. We never once broke our lover's embrace and I could feel Marcus' hands softly glide over my thighs, prying them open as he leaned downward and placed them upon his shoulders. His hands immediately went to work again, two of his fingers skillfully playing with my clit as one fingered my dripping pussy. I bucked my hips against Marcus' hand as I freed my breasts from their lace domicile through the deep plunge of my shirt.

"I want to see you naked." He whispered in my ear, almost inaudibly. "You are so beautiful, Alexia."

I ignored him, hoping he would get off that subject and just fuck me. I wanted him right, there, on the loveseat, in the dimly lit living room, with Jason and some dead chick as my audience. "Marcus, I want you to finally make love to me. No, that's too slow. Fuck me, please."

I could hear him chuckle a bit as he fingered deeper, rubbing faster against my inflamed clit. My toes curled and the heavenly painful pleasure engulfed my being. I arched my back and grabbed one of the armrests. I felt Marcus' tongue slowly circle around one of my nipples, tauntingly flicking at the nub with the tip. "Marcus" I moaned, "Please get inside of me please."

"Not until I see you naked and you go to this Halloween party."

All pleasure stopped and I stared at him intently, his body growing silent as he tactfully removed his fingers from my heat and hovered over me; tasting the glistening nectar of my virgin flower that remained coated on his fingers. He grinned. "Well?"

"That's not fair." I panted, angrily. I removed my legs from his shoulders and gently sat upright, fixing my weave and putting my breasts back in my shirt. "You...you....ugh!"

I stood to leave but Marcus pulled me back down to the sofa and kissed me. I wanted to say his aggressive behavior turned me on, but I didn't want him to know that. "Alexia..."

"You know I hate Halloween."

"It's just one party and we will only stay an hour if you want to."

"I'm not going!" I yelled, getting frustrated with the conversation. Any other time he was fine going to his Sigma brother's Halloween bash alone. There was no reason why this year had to be different. "I don't want to go."

Marcus, still firmly grabbing my wrist, reached under the loveseat and pulled out a plastic Wal-Mart bag. Inside was a costume set that included a bunny-eared headband, a bow-tie collar, and a large ball of fluff that was supposed to resemble a cotton-tail. He smirked as he placed the headband on my head. "You are going, my love."

"Marcus!"

I tried to remove the ridiculous head band but Marcus pinned me against the cool skin of our loveseat once more. "I think you look adorable, Thumper."

Thumper!? "Oh, no mister. You are not having me sashay around some Sigma party dressed like a deer's best friend."

Marcus laughed and kissed my cheek. "I think you look cute."

"I don't want to be a bunny." I began to whine like a four year-old having tantrum because she couldn't get her way. "I don't like Halloween. YOU know this."

"Things are going to have to change."

I began to carefully watch him remove that piece of fabric he called a costume to expose a throbbing erection. I have no idea where it went off too, but the only person that was truly paying attention was Jason. I slowly licked my lips and grasped his manhood in my hands, smoothing the small droplets of white pre-cum across his full tip to create an even gleam. I wanted to suck it off so badly that is made my mouth water like a ravaging hungry hound. I loved the way Marcus tasted. I would be lying if I said he was sweet as sugar and gumdrops, but given his healthy diet and his occupation as a professional fitness trainer his taste was much more satisfying than some of the men I gave head to years prior.

I went to lick the head but he stopped me by placing a single finger under my chin, meeting his serious gaze with my confused one. "Alexia."

"Marcus."

"I want to see you naked. I feel I have waited long-enough and been more than patient. You are simply immaculate and truly divine. I wish you could see what I see."

I grew quiet for a moment before turning away to meet the cold, tyrannical stare of Jason. He hovered over the dead white woman as the black man swung with a bat in mid-air with such valor and pride as he gazed into my eyes. Even an un-dead serial killer was questioning me.

"Um, I-I-I-I-..."

"We can do this the easy way" he paused momentarily to grab the bow-tie collar and the cotton-tail, "Or the hard way."

I did not know how to respond to that so I gently began to remove the headband. Marcus', however, stopped me in mid-stride. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Taking this ridiculous costume off."

Marcus fixed my eared headband and undid my messy pony-tail, allowing my brown faux curls to cascade down my back. I opened my mouth to object but with a single digit being placed upon my pouted lips, he hushed me. I don't know how or when this happened- I think one of us sat on the remote and changed the channel- but my television screen switched from HBO to one of paid Pop and R&B music channels. Rhianna's "Disturbia" began to play and before I knew it, the lights had gone out. I screeched out softly at the newfound darkness that encased the room but I felt Marcus begin to hold me, bringing me into his lap, allowing my legs to sway on either side of him. Damn those teenagers that played with the electrical box every year. The power had not gone out because the music was still playing and the digital clock I had mounted on my coffee table still shone red death. I looked at Marcus and he looked at me. Neither one of us said anything.

I finally spoke. "Marcus..."

"Alexia, please don't speak."

"But..."

"Don't. Speak."

His soft lips pressed against mines as his strong hands began to run along the curve of my back. I felt him begin to unhook my bra and tried my best to resist. His connoisseur-like hands, of course, unclasped my bra and allowed my breasts to fall freely from the depths of my tee. Rhianna was still singing and was more toward her end chorus when Marcus began to hike up my lounge shirt. I squirmed and fought as hard as I could muster but his masculine strength and determination prevailed ultimately. I was now nude and my safety net was now somewhere next to a bookcase. I covered myself with my arms and tried to use my hair to blanket my nudity as well. Marcus, on the latter, grabbed my arms softly and pulled them away from me. Now the song was Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and I found it to be quite appropriate.

I began to speak but Marcus shushed me with another heated, passionate kiss. I could feel his hands release my arms as something fuzzy became wrapped around my waist, landing atop of my ass. I looked behind me and could see the faint illumination of a white ball. That damn cotton-tail. While I wasn't looking, Marcus had placed the bow-tie collar around my neck and fastened it into place. It was pink and white with a black patent leather strap. I was dumbfounded as to how he managed to get the collar and the tail around me in such a short length of time without me noticing it at all. Part of me wanted to be upset but the other side of me found it to be quite cute- though he's never to know that.

"Marcus!"

He didn't grace me with a reply, but with a swift motion; his strong arms lifting me up about an inch and a half off his lap and setting me down, gently, atop of the head of his penis. I cried out to any religious deity in complete ecstasy, not caring who or what heard me. Slowly, carefully he glided my moist pussy onto his hard length and filled me completely. I did not feel the pain until I sat motionless atop of his lap with his dick inside of me and could feel myself stretching to accommodate his incredible size and width. I nuzzled his neck as I felt myself have a mini-orgasm just from him being inside of me. I heard him bellow an animalistic groan of pleasure as he began to move me up and down his shaft. I placed my hands upon his shoulders as I began to slowly "bounce up on it." Pain subsided and turned into pleasure as pleasure catalyzed euphoric sensations I never felt before. Even my vibrator had not felt this damn good.

"Marcus!" I screamed out as he picked up speed. He could feel me becoming more adjusted to his length and began to grow more aggressive. My breasts began to bounce up and down erratically as we both began to pick up speed- him gripping my thick waist and guiding me up and down his dick as I began to feel more comfortable and at ease with grinding and twirling my hips. He was not the only one that had a few tricks. Michael was now towards the end where all the zombies magically learned to expertly dance a choreographed number in complete unison and began to shout "Thriller" into our home as our speeds began to match each others tempo. I could feel myself begin to come.

"Marcus" I leaned my head back and placed the palms of my hands upon his knees, curling myself towards my beloved. He began to go faster, pounding my sweet pussy with his hard dick and allowing its supple nectar to fall down the length of his shaft and onto our conjoined bodies. I screamed, moaned, shouted, and hollered profanities in my native tongue of French as I began to climax. I grabbed hold of a few of Marcus' dreads and wrapped them around my hand a single time as I came hard on his dick; the pulsations coursing through my veins and throughout my body as warmth engulfed me. Marcus came moments later with a loud roar and released himself into me. It felt warm, wet, and a little sticky but I did not complain.