**Chapter 3: Masquerade of Sin**
The school's Halloween party was a chaotic swirl of costumes, pulsing music, and cheap punch spiked with vodka. Mrs. Larson and her husband, Greg, showed up arm-in-arm, playing the perfect couple. She'd gone all out--dressed as Catwoman in a black leather bodysuit that hugged every curve like a wet dream. The suit zipped low, her massive tits spilling out, the shiny fabric so tight you could see her pussy lips outlined when she moved. Thigh-high boots and a whip on her hip screamed *fuck me*, while a mask hid half her face, her red lipstick popping. Greg was Batman--classic black cape, cowl, and a padded suit that made him look bulkier than he was, his dick barely a bulge in the tight pants. They danced close, grinding in the dim gym, her ass rubbing his crotch 'til he growled in her ear.
"Let's find a room, babe. I need that pussy," he said.
They stumbled into an empty classroom upstairs, lips locked, hands groping. She moaned as he shoved her against a desk, his tongue down her throat, her cunt already dripping through the leather.
"Fuck, I gotta pee," she gasped, pulling away, her boots clicking as she darted to the bathroom down the hall.
Greg adjusted his cock, hard and straining, when a knock rattled the door. He opened it, expecting a drunk kid, but it was Ethan--decked out in a spare Batman costume he'd nabbed from a friend, mask up, cape swirling.
"Thought this was Jake's room," Ethan lied, clocking Greg's outfit.
Greg shrugged. "Nah, man, we're busy," he replied.
Ethan smirked under the mask. "Hey, uh, someone's looking for you downstairs--said it's urgent," he said.
Greg cursed. "Fuck, alright, tell her I'm coming," he muttered, and bolted, leaving the door cracked.
Mrs. Larson strutted back, leather creaking, her pussy still tingling from Greg's hands. She saw the Batman figure waiting, cape draped over broad shoulders, and assumed it was her man.
"Miss me, stud?" she purred, pressing her tits against his chest, kissing him hard.
Ethan, masked and silent, groaned into her mouth, his tongue swirling hers, tasting her lipstick and lust. His hands slid to her ass, squeezing, then dipped between her thighs, fingers rubbing her cunt through the suit.
She gasped. "Fuck, Greg, you're wild tonight," she said, not noticing the difference--Ethan's kiss was hungrier, dirtier, his fingers bolder as they unzipped her suit just enough to slip inside, stroking her wet pussy lips.
She moaned, horny as hell, thinking her husband had leveled up. He pushed her against the wall, mask still on, and peeled her suit down slow--leather sliding off her shoulders, tits bouncing free, nipples hard and pink. She yanked at his costume, tugging the cape aside, unzipping his pants to free his cock--thick, veiny, way bigger than Greg's. He left the mask on, Batman's grim jaw hiding his face, and she didn't care, too lost in the heat. He fingered her deeper, two digits pumping her sloppy cunt, her juices dripping down his hand.
"Goddamn, you're soaking, you slut," he growled, voice muffled.
She giggled. "Fuck me, baby," she urged, spreading her legs.
He laid her on the desk, missionary, and shoved his cock in--slow, deep, stretching her married pussy 'til she screamed.
"Oh fuck, yes!" she cried, legs wrapping him, heels digging into his ass.
He fucked her steady, 10 minutes of relentless thrusts, dirty talk spilling out. "This cunt's mine tonight, you horny bitch," he said.
She matched him. "Pound my pussy, you bastard!" she shot back, loving the raw edge, her tits jiggling with every slam.
Then she noticed--his dick felt *huge*, thicker, hitting spots Greg never touched, the rhythm more feral. She slid her hands up, gripping his head, and the mask slipped, tumbling to the floor. Ethan's face stared down, eyes wild, cock buried in her. She froze, horror crashing through her lust--her student, balls-deep in her married cunt.
