Halloween Pinata Busts A Sweet Load

"Just ask the question," demands Nari, plucking a chocolate truffle disguised as a bloody eyeball from a bowl of Halloween-themed treats. She's wearing a green, skintight jumpsuit with the "WM" waste management logo painted across her ass. The green fabric is smudged with dirt, brown makeup, and coated in long, opaque strings. A grey hood is sloppily tacked across her shoulders. Silky black hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and her flawless brown skin and big, green eyes don't even begin to match her grungy outfit.

Conor sighs, the loose pieces on his pinata costume shuddering with him. Of course Nari would find some way to fuck with him tonight, but did it have to be this? "What the hell are you thinking with this costume, Nari? Is this some kind of cry for help?"

He's genuinely concerned. The two of them had been flirting heavily until about a month ago. She'd unknowingly triggered him, and in response he said some things he didn't mean. By the time they had talked everything through, she was firmly in the friendzone, and he felt like a total dickweed. Since then, every communication between them had been either extremely sterile, or extremely horny. He thought she was playing games with his mind, and she thought the same.

"Nope," she smiles widely. "Billie asked me what I wanted to be for Halloween, and what she made is beyond perfect. I'm disappointed that you don't like it." She sets the truffle on her tongue and swiftly crunches the chocolate shell between her front teeth, letting the dark red cherry center almost drip down her chin before licking it clean.

Conor pulls off his multicolored hood, shaking his wavy brown hair. He consciously refuses the twinge of lust at the sight of her tongue moving around in her mouth. "It says cum dumpster," he groans.

"Did you see all the fake cum dribbles?" she asks him, running her hand over the lettering across her breasts. "I made them with hot glue."

Conor brings a hand up to massage his brow, simultaneously cutting off his view of her chest as he attempts to ward off the growing tension. "Please tell me you used one of those torso things that fashion people use."

"Well Conor, you know me pretty well by now... Do you really think I have burn marks all over my titties?"

"Naaariii..."

"You know the rules about groaning my name like that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go find another load before trash day is over," she smirks, sticking her tongue out - still red from the cherry juice.

His guts flip. What did she mean by another? How could she stand to be so brazen? Nari wasn't considering her own safety at all. He'd promised to respect her choices as a friend, but letting her go off and be used by the first man who could sound out the boner-inducing words on her costume was unthinkable. With as much effort as he's expended to keep her at arms-length, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her smile, or her laugh, or the flirty messages that had never failed to stop his heart.

He tries to ignore the burning feelings of concern, tries to remind himself that it's her life, and she can do whatever the hell she wants. He tires to remind himself that he barely even knows her... He tries his best to focus on the Halloween party, but every slutty bunny and sexy nurse he sees reminds him of Nari, and he finds himself frantically searching the room for a sight of her. Panic rises inside him as each patch of green or grey he locates in the crowd of bodies turns into someone else. She could get hurt. Some other guy could already be using her. He could be too late...

He shuffles along one wall, checking every knob and peering into every open room. After slamming the door on a female cop going down on Frankenstein's monster, and a half-naked group of what looked to be Power Rangers, Conor hears Nari's delicate laughter coming from a long hallway. Fear and jealousy tense his muscles, and he follows the sound past a half-shut patio door and onto a wide balcony.

Nari is being pressed up against the wall by some guy in a Spiderman costume. Her feet shuffle between his, wriggling against his gangly hold. Conor's rage bubbles over. Without a word, he grabs the back of the man's spandex suit, dragging him off Nari. Spiderman splutters against the force, catching himself against the steel railing and immediately diving into a pathetic display of apology. "Hey, bro! She said she was single! Please, dude, I had no idea that was your girl!"

"She's not," Conor snaps, glaring at Nari.

"Oh, uh... well..." Spiderman looks back and forth, in a standoff with himself.

"Bye, Spiderman," Conor thrusts a thumb over his shoulder. The flustered party-goer slips through the patio door, sliding it shut behind him.

Conor is still fuming, and, after being denied her door prize, so is Nari. "Seriously, Conor? I knew I should've gone to Darian's party instead. He'd probably be running a train on me by now," she goads.

Conor closes the distance between them. "Stop this shit, Nari!" the words come out angrier than he meant them, but she was testing is every nerve. She doesn't flinch, straightening her posture and lifting her chin to meet his eyes. "This isn't like you" he continues, "You're going to get hurt." She looks him up and down, cupping a hand over her smile. "What?!" Conor searches her face for an answer, any answer.

"I'm sorry, I just..." she giggles, "I can't take you seriously in that." Nari gestures up down. Conor looks at himself, arms and torso covered in layers of fringed fabric.

"Oh, you're too good to fuck a pinata?" The words were out before he had a chance to think of anything better to say. All he knew was that he didn't want anyone else to touch her.

Nari's giggles cut off, her eyes wide and her lips parted in surprise. "Wait a second, Conor. We had that whole talk. I thought you said..."

"Fuck whatever I said," Conor whispers, half furious, half desperate to end the stalemate, presses Nari up against the wall and locks his lips against hers. Soft whimpers escape her mouth as she rips her arms free from the jumpsuit, one after the other. She rolls it down to her waist before moving to the zipper at the front of Conor's costume. His hands move up her body, taking greedy handfuls of her tits.

He didn't feel that his hands were greedy until she gasps at the contact. The rough inhale breaks their kiss and startles Conor. He pulls back, staring down at the obvious red dots along the tops of her breasts. "You didn't!" he cries, moving his hands to her ribcage, his thumbs nestled under each soft mound of brown flesh.

"It was just from the beading at the top, no big deal," Nari sighs, pulling him back towards her.

He resists, "You need to be more careful." He slowly lowers down onto his knees, hands falling down her body and pulling her jumpsuit down to her hips. Nari sighs, popping out of her sneakers and allowing Conor to pull the rest of her costume off. He releases her ankles, taking in the sight of her full nudity before his lips are on her skin again.

"Fuck yes, pinata," she giggles as Conor kisses his way down her torso. He surrounds her hips with his arms, popping her thighs open as his tongue lays across her dark pussy lips. Nari softens at the contact, her hands tangling in his locks. The tip of his tongue splits her open, making her moan. He flicks it along her folds, dipping as deep inside her as he can manage. Her body begins to move with her desires, pressing against the most welcome sensations.

Conor moves one of his hands down her thigh, snaking it around the back of her knee. He pulls at it softly, and waits until Nari shifts her weight onto the opposite leg. When she complies, he slides his hand down to her ankle, snaring it in his palm and lifting her foot onto his shoulder. The action pops her pussy wide open, and Conor lays into her. He eats her out with vigor. With one hand on her ass, and the other securing her foot to his shoulder, he rolls his tongue up and down, side to side, slurping and kissing at her center. Nari's moans and pleads are indiscernible. She claws at the vinyl siding, her hips grinding against Conor's mouth. The sounds of her moaning is more than he can take.

His cock is pressing painfully against the inside of his briefs, every small movement becoming unbearable. He pulls back, face wet with the evidence of her pleasure. "Nari, baby, please, I need to fuck you," he says, teeth clenching again with the last word. She bites her lip and nods, but he feels her legs shaking. "I don't have a condom," he pulls her foot off his shoulder, holding her steady while easing it to the ground.

"Then don't cum inside me," groans Nari, untangling her fingers from his hair. He stands and unzips his costume. The top half falls around his waist, revealing the elastic band of his briefs. She tries to drop to her knees to return his recent favor, but he still has one hand on her ass, and he stops her, forcing her to turn around instead. He can't spend one more second not buried as deep inside her body as she'll allow him.

His fingers slide past his waistband, and he pulls his throbbing cock out, squeezing himself at the base. He makes a mental promise to pull out and not get this beautiful girl pregnant, but it takes up the last fragment of his willpower.

His next move is to slowly and ceaselessly guide his tip into her wet pussy. She gasps and moans as he pushes inside her, begging for every inch of him. He gives it all to Nari, and she sighs over and over in squealing appreciations. Conor stares down at his pink dick disappearing inside her, marveling at the way her round ass cheeks flatten against his hips.

"Holy fuck, Nari... your pussy is unbelievable," groans Conor.

"Uh! I've wanted your dick for so long!" she squeezes him with her insides, making herself gush around his shaft.

He begins to move slowly into her at first, but her center pulls at him, and within seconds he's already bucking hard. Their soft moans of pleasure heighten into groans and gasps as Conor's furious fucking forces her up onto her toes. She bounces against him perfectly, their bodies moving in tandem. Nari feels the steady twinge of her climax hiding deep in the back of her mind. She focuses on her breathing, the long gasps for air coming as pleasured sighs. Conor works into her with the perfect rhythm, the perfect angle, and the perfect stretch. His cock makes her gush over and over, but she needs more. She brings her fingertip down against her clit.

"Yeah, girl. Oh shit..." groans Conor, feeling her pussy tighten more as she increases her own enjoyment. His balls tighten, sending a familiar warning into his belly. He groans, and slows his motions, trying to break his mind from every feral instinct he has to fill her with his seed.

"Don't stop, baby, I'm so close!" Nari starts fucking herself on his cock, refusing his change in pace. Conor holds his breath, the sweat of his efforts beginning to cool on the back of his neck. The sensation is icy and unpleasant. He leans into the feeling, focusing on the droplets that slide down his back. A surge of pressure traps his cock, and the resounding groan from the back of Nari's throat tells him that she's cumming. He has to pull out, but she's holding him inside her.

"Nari, please, I can't..."

Conor freezes solid, afraid that a single movement will send him over the edge. She grinds into him, impossibly tight and impossibly wet. She feels the ecstasy take over, and her back arches, pulling at his last shred of sanity. "Oh, I'm gonna cum! Nari I can't hold it back... please-"

Her climax ebbs just in time. She drops to her knees and turns to face Conor, closing her eyes, and opening her mouth wide. Her tongue sticks out as far as she can stretch it, the redness of the cherry juice faded to a bright pink.

His cock bounces in the air, and he grabs it, squeezing his wet shaft tightly at the base, affording himself a few extra seconds to stare at Nari naked on her knees before his release takes over. The orgasm flows from deep inside him, and the first thick stream of cum covers her entire face. The sticky strand coats one eyebrow, moving diagonally to her chin. Her tongue twitches as it's coated in his cum, but she holds her mouth open. The sight of his load dripping from her face makes Conor's balls contract just as hard the second time. His palm holds his cock down against the pulsing, sending the next two jets of cum straight down her throat. She swallows on instinct, smiling after the gulp.

Conor's dick pulses repeatedly, but he's empty. The evidence of that fact glistens all over her face. He taps the tip of his waning boner against her lips and she licks circles around it playfully. With a deep breath in, he slips his spent cock back into his briefs and pulls up one of the arms of his costume that dangle around his waist. With a delicate touch under her chin, he uses the colorful garment to clean his semen from her cheeks and eyelashes while her tongue cleans off whatever it can reach.

"Do you still think my costume is a cry for help?" Nari asks, one eye still closed. She always intended to make Conor jealous tonight, but her plan had worked so much better than she expected.

"If it is," he answers, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "I have what you need."