My name is Bree. I'm 24 years old and a college student with a mindset for elementary education, math, reading and the daydreams brought on by being a closet-nymphomaniac.
Hardly a second goes by that I'm not wishing my algebraic equations would solve themselves so that I might be able to spend some quality time daydreaming about the student who happens to be teaching my math-workshop class. Yeah, he's that guy...
Being that I did in fact say, "closet-nymphomaniac" I think it's fairly certain that we both know he knows absolutely nothing of my countless attempt to seduce him in my mind. However, it does seem fair that I warn you my daydreams can leap from this particular student to someone I just met only moments ago. It just happens. Hey, I'm no David Duchovney. I keep things well under control, usually...
It just so happens that aside from the 'hot-for-teacher' idea you may have playing in your head, I'm also an avid lover of all things spooky and paranormal. Naturally, Halloween lands right smack in the center of all this love. When September ends and my birthday has passed, I find myself fantasizing of all the different ways sex could instantly be hearted up a notch. What, with all the costumes, the vampires, the unnaturally kinky looking heels (not that I can wear them mind you) and petticoats, alter egos and such, it's not hard to understand why one such as me might be infatuated. This year however, little did I know it was going to be quite unlike any Halloween I had ever experienced?
My apartment is located on the East section of campus and is in one of the much older buildings. Governed by the deep reds, yellows and oranges of the autumn kissed trees, I am secluded from most of the hustle and bustle of campus life. I like it that way. More time to relinquish my thoughts to those of a much kinkier nature.
I was walking along the leaf blown sidewalks ones afternoon, trudging my black boots through the crunchy masses of leaves when the sounds of footsteps behind me caught my attention. Plucking an ear-bud from my ear, I turned to offer a friendly redheaded smile to whoever might be accompanying me along my little trudge home, but on doing so...there was no one. I hadn't been hearing things and I was well aware of my surroundings, just as my mother once suggested I always be. There was absolutely no one. So, before getting too freaked out, I shrugged my shoulders, popped the ear-bud back into my ear and turned around. I was almost home anyways.
I took the steps one at a time, dancing to the music on my iPod as each step was conquered until I reached my apartment door. L-7. (Feel free to start singing.) I was too busy lip-syncing and fumbling in my canvas bag to find my key to immediately notice the invitation stuck beneath the giant black spider hanging on my door. Not until it fell at my feet, that is.
Reaching for the bright orange envelope, I flipped it over to see the addressee and shoved my apartment door open.
There was no address. Just a 'B' in a fancy cursive print along the front of the envelope was all that I found. A tad puzzled, I turned the envelope over and over in my hands before I tore it open.
"A costume party! Awesome!" I squealed into the empty apartment.
Right away, I neglected my reading and began to browse for a suitable costume. It never occurred to me to be concerned about the lack of information on the invitation.
By the night the party rolled around, I had heard about a few of my friends getting orange invitations to a costume party also, but none of them seemed even the least bit put-off by the sudden appearance of the invitation. Granted I knew only a few people so far, I opted into going to the party alone. Maybe I'd run into one of my many daydream lovers. Or maybe not.
Regardless, I had decided to dress like a rag doll. Being a redhead, I could pull it off easily, all Raggedy Ann comments set aside for later. Given that I do love the sex appeal behind the skimpy costumes worn nowadays, I slipped into a blue dress with a white apron puffed out just enough to be sexually frustrating and paired it with red and white striped stockings slipped over my long legs. I found it ironic that I was dressing up this way. I always had to tell guys that I fucked, I wasn't a china doll. I wouldn't break if they got a little rough. Lastly, strapped on some Mary-Jane shoes and took to the night.
I hadn't been walking long when the cold began to wrap its icy fingers through the thin material of my dress. No jacket, hard nipples and about a mile or so left to walk makes for a mean trip. I thought for certain that I'd end up being too cold and too tired to want to stay once I made it, but my thoughts were cut short when the sound of rustling came from behind me again. My mind raced back to the event that took place earlier that morning. I whipped around as fast as I could, curled red hair slapping me in the face, while I explored the night with wide hazels eyes. No one was there, no one that is until I saw a figure step out of the woods off to my right.
I breathed a sigh of relief, closed my eyes and thanked the heavens.
"You scared the shit out of me just know," I said, with a light chuckle.
The figure before me didn't say anything, he just stepped closer. Like me, he was dressed in a costume. He wore a pair of dark sunglasses despite the night, a red plaid shirt that buttoned over what appeared to be a torn beater and a pair of dirty jeans. In his hand was something furry that I couldn't quite make out and from what I could see, his hair was the color of the evening, pitch black.
"Who are you supposed to be?" I asked as he stepped closer. I crossed my arms for warmth, pushing my ample chest towards the air. Bad idea, so I dropped them again.
I was about to ask him again when a voice like velvet drifted across the wind and greeted my ears.
