I was invited to an exclusive Halloween bash at the Hilton, only the crème of the crop asked to attend, the glamorous and ritzy people who matter. This was a yearly charity event to help less fortunate children, being held by a group of people I fully supported, and it was five thousand dollars a seat. This was also a mask ball, everyone ordered to wear a mask and the person with the best, unique costume was to add another thousand to the pot sponsored by my company. I was the lucky person who is to give away the check, a huge privilege.
I decided to attend as the goddess of love, Aphrodite, planning to enchant every male to walk through the door, knowing that they will succumb to my spell. I donned on a blonde wig, its tresses flowing down my back, caressing my bottom with love, carefully placing a golden tiara on top. I squeezed my breasts into a satin white bra, accenting my fine curves and golden skin, from the fake tan from the spray bottle, and sexy belly with a ring. Over my legs, I slipped into a white matching thong, lightly running my hands over the smoothness, giggling as I see my eyes begin to dilate with lust. I had admitted I was stunning.
Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was almost time to go. I threw on the final additions, beginning with a satin toga, sheer enough to see my coloring, but not enough to get a clear view of my assets. On my fingers and toes, I decorated myself with gold rings, smiling at the perfect manicure and pedicure I spoiled myself to earlier in the day, and placed gold bands around my biceps and a golden choker making it look as I was the slave, not the men. Last, I slipped into white sandals and with a final twirl as I placed my mask into place, left.
The room was completely full, friends chatting eagerly, couples dancing to the orchestra, and many others laughing and having a good time. The tables surrounded the dance floor, their centerpieces exceptionally rare, constructed for the Halloween season, monster waiters walking around with trays of wine and appetizers. Behind the orchestra, a stage decorated as a graveyard, with two long tables along each side of a tombstone podium, with five names on each table; I was placed on the right.
Before dinner, I danced with many men including Lancelot, two Greek gods, a few vampires, and others all vying for my attention, practically kissing my feet. I loved the looks I was receiving, basking in the warmth of touches, bodies swaying seductively in a lover's game. I drank many glasses of wine between sets, laughing at bawdy jokes and cracks on some of the costumes. The more I drank, I felt hot, the feel of satin caressing my skin, the leering from men gluing to my boobs causing my nipples to peak, inviting a bold male to grab, take what he wants. I was at the point where I did not want to be treated like a female of the eighteen hundreds, but a wanton slut, to take to the closet and fuck me good.
That is when I noticed him, a wolf, werewolf to be exact, yellow eyes glowing, following my every move, face expressionless, a sneer at the touch of men as they tried to impress me. His chest pure male muscle, hair coating his skin like a shield, man nipples hard as nails, peaking for his mate, beckoned to me, calling silently to taste. His long snout appeared real, glistening white teeth bared savagely as he witnessed my current admirer whispering in my ear, my eyes widening as he stalked closer, anger glinting in his eyes.
I trembled as I watch his long legs, loping like a wolf preying, hunting for fresh meat, his muscles flexing with each step, feet as hairy as the rest of him. What caught, and kept, my attention was the large muscle between his thighs, bobbing in a threatening manner, answering my unconscious call to be mated, to him. There was no way that thing was part of the costume, it was too grand, veins throbbing along the shaft, head pulsing with lust, demanding satisfaction from his lover.
I quickly excused myself from my partner, rushing for the garden hoping the scent of flowers would hide my feminine smell from the beast. I ducked and dodged, eyes wildly seeking for a hiding place, finding none as all the paths were taken, lovers trysting, the forbidden garden.
Gasping, I spot a waterfall, an opening barely visible to the naked human eye, I sneak behind, and smiling as it seems to be a hidden chamber. Within held a large king-size bed, covered in burgundy blankets, a canopy surrounding the bed, and candles lighting the room making the chamber to appear more romantic then it was. The rock floors were covered with cream Berber carpet, and Asian rugs, interesting pictures woven as to tell old stories, legends of the past.
The same drawings imprinted on the rugs matched the paintings on the walls, pictures of werewolves turning, some engaged in different stages of copulation, snouts grinding between female hind legs, tongues wagging, and drool dripping. Doglike cocks hanging loosely as the females bucked crazily against their mates, the males howling at the full moon, eyes eerily aglow with desires beyond the anything human. Another picture of ten male werewolf's circled around a lone female, tail between her hind legs trembling as they snapped at her, penis' standing out dry humping the air, wanting to be the first to sample their find, plant his seed within. In addition, the last picture of a male in heat, fucking a human female from behind, doggie style, and her legs spread wide, him bent over her, teeth clamped on her shoulder in full possession, as he claws at her white skin, marks bleeding.
