"You're Invited to Selene, Sara and Jasmines' Halloween Mixer!
2 High St NW
7pm-???
BYOBB (Bring your own booze and bud)
Jell-O shots will be available, as well as a place to crash.
Wear a costume dammit!
See you there!"
Selene had sent out the invitations for her "mixer" two weeks ago, she said she wanted me to feel welcome and make friends. As I stared at myself in the mirror I was feeling anything but ready to mingle.
Selene and I had been doing the whole casually hooking up thing for about a month now. Since we weren't blood relatives, it wasn't as taboo, but we still tried to be discreet about it. That being said, I had learned a lot in the 4 weeks I'd lived there.
I'd changed my look some, now sporting a much edgier, layered hair cut that was styled currently to look perfectly messy. I'm not sure how Selene did what she did with hair and make-up, but she had a skill. My ruby red glittered lips were glinting in the bathroom light; the dramatic eye make-up was also glittering around my eyes. I was dressed as a fairy, a dark blue strapless dress hugged my curves and laid in an uneven cut around my thighs, purple glitzy wings adorned my back and sparkly stilettos decorated my feet strapping around my ankles delicately. I looked nothing like my typical jeans and t-shirt self, and I felt extremely uncomfortable about it.
*knock knock*
"Jazz are you done, I gotta pee!" Sara yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.
I inhaled a deep breath and let it out ruffling my bangs as I blew in an upward stream of air.
I opened the door, revealing Sara in a lime green thong and that's it. This had become fairly common; Sara liked to advertise her assets. She had every reason to. With perfectly shaped breasts and rose bud nipples that were always slightly puckered, down to her always silkily shaved thighs and perfectly sculpted calves, she was a sight to behold. Many nights I had rocked with orgasm imagining her between my thighs, or better yet, me between hers. But Sara was one challenge I didn't think I was ready for.
She slipped past me and unabashedly sat down and began to relieve herself while I walked out quickly as to allow her privacy though she request none.
Around 7:30pm, what some would call fashionably late, the first party goers arrived at the house.
The first 2 hours were a whirlwind of names and pleasantries. Why did I move? Was I gay? How long was I staying? And other such questions that filled space but didn't provide conversation didn't let anyone get to know more than the surface.
As people kept drinking, and music got sultrier, bodies started to grind provocatively in the living room that had been cleared for such usage. I took this as my queue to escape to the kitchen. The windows were open in here so there wasn't a build-up of smoke or lust. I sat at the decorated table. It had a black table cloth over it, not a fancy one, just one of those plastic ones that you throw away when you're done with it. There was a set-up of snack food, pretzels, chips, cheese, fancier hors de vors that I couldn't name. I pulled the orange jack-o-lantern bowl full of pretzel sticks to me and began to boredly munch on them.
I was never good at parties, not in high school, not in college, and apparently not as an adult either. The air in the living room was heavy and it was cloying to my mostly virgin lungs. Not only that but the hotter it got in the room the more clothes were shed and the more alcohol was consumed and I figured it was just a matter of time before someone was fucking on the couch. Voyeurism wasn't really my thing that I knew of.
I began to draw lines on the table cloth with the condensation from the cup holding my mixed drink. I appreciated all the beautiful women in there, but most of them didn't seem to notice me, I figured I'd slip up to bed before too much longer.
"Hey sexy lady!"
It was Sara; she came in to the kitchen with an empty cup and a blunt in her hand. She was dressed as a "cave woman" she had a loin cloth on, one that revealed everything except her ass and vagina, on top she had the equivalent of a handkerchief tied around her back covering her breasts. There was truly very little left to the imagination. And she had applied a light sheen of shimmering powder to her legs, arms and décolletage. It made me want to her touch her even more.
"Hi Sara," I muttered.
"Why are you in here all alone when you look good enough to eat?" She asked standing beside me, a hand on her hip that was cocked to the side. When she moved her hips, her loin cloth slid to the side the slightest bit and I caught a glimpse of her evenly tanned smooth skin that was just barely hidden. My mouth ran dry with lust.
"I'm not good at parties," I replied tearing my gaze away from the secrets hidden just behind the small piece of material.
"Aww baby girl, you just need to loosen up," She said nudging me.
"Yeah, easy for you to say," I replied snapping off the end of another pretzel stick.
She rolled her eyes and knelt down next to me.
"Let me give you a shot gun?" She said taking a drag on the blunt.
I wasn't a fan of shot guns; a shot gun is where one person puts the lit end of the blunt in their mouth and blows smoke through the end of it to the other persons, usually very close, open mouth. It tended to make me cough a lot.
"Fine."
Sara smiled and got in my face before placing the cherry in her mouth. She blew smoke to me, I inhaled filling my lungs. Once I had a lung full I pulled back and exhaled slowly. She removed the cherry and ashed the blunt.
"Thanks," I said feeling the gentle buzz in my head.
"Another?" She asked me.
I nodded.
We leaned in and she repeated the same steps but when she removed the blunt she leaned closer and placed her lips against mine, the smoke each of us exhaled mixed between us as our lips started to move.
Everything about Sara physically just begged you to have sex with her, but the way her lips moved against mine, feather soft but firm, coaxing my mouth open before I could protest. But I don't know that I would have, protested that is. She slid her fingers over my collar bone and reached back into my hair wrapping her fingers in it. My head was swimming. She commanded my lips to obey and she moved me like I was a marionette puppet. Her tongue sliding down my skin, her fingers tightening in my hair, her teeth on my jaw, she had several tricks to get me to bend to her whim.
She pulled away from me long enough to give me a devilish grin, she grabbed an ice cube from my drink and slipped under the table, completely concealed to anyone not on my side of the table by the cheap decorative cloth. My feet were bare, having discarded my heels earlier in the night. My legs were also bare, as I decided last minute to ditch the fish net stockings. Sara took her quickly melting ice cube and ran it from my bare thigh down to my in step and back up my calf.
She did this twice to each leg before holding the ice cube between my thighs and letting the water drip down my skin. I gasped as frigid water crept closer to the heat at the center of my thighs as Sara ran the last of the ice over my panties replacing the warm wet from my body with cold. Droplets of water ran down my legs and thighs, each one causing a trail of goose bumps to form. Then along each trail of cold, a trail of hot began as Sara's tongue caught her drop of water. She started at my calves and worked her way up my knees and over my thighs ending at the puddle soaked into my panties. Her hot tongue slid over the thin material that was pulled tight against my body.
