“Fuck!” I yelled as I felt my balls tighten. My cock was buried deep inside the cunt of another perfectly boring bimbo, who was straddling my hips as she bounced up and down. I looked up at her face as I shot into her, her name already escaping my memory. She had her eyes closed as she rode my cock, her head tossed back, her large tits bouncing in front of me, her long blond hair tumbling down her back. She was just another girl in the long line of ladies who my brother had hooked me up with. This one was a bartender who worked nights at some bar he went to after work sometimes.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t good-looking. She was certainly very attractive, and I had to admit she had given me a good time. I had definitely come harder with her than I had with the last few girls Jake had thrown my way. But still I just felt detached.
The girl was coming now, and I could feel the muscles of her pussy gripping my cock as she writhed about on me. Then she rolled off and lay down beside me, trying to cuddle as close as she could. I dutifully put an arm around her, but I was already planning to leave her with an empty bed before the sun rose. Dealing with the morning after was just never my strong suit.
I had been working for a leading accounting firm for the last five years. It was a big company, with over 1,000 employees, and I was absolutely positive that no one in the firm even knew my first name. Not that I really expected people to notice me; there’s nothing spectacular about my appearance, and I do tend to keep to myself. I’m five feet nine, with dark brown hair that I keep short and neat, a clean-shaven face, and a body that’s okay, though not as muscular as I would like. I’m not ugly, just not exceptional enough to capture people’s attention. At 37 I am pretty much a confirmed bachelor, and my simple but quite comfortable lifestyle suits me just fine. I don’t have a lot of friends, but I am close to my family, especially my brother Jake, who works for the police department and seems to spend most of his time trying to set me up with girls.
The Monday morning after my night with the female bartender, I walked into my cubicle at work just like always, sat down at my desk just like always, and logged into my mailbox just like always. Today there was a companywide memo announcing the annual company Halloween masquerade party. I didn’t remember there having been any company masquerade parties in the past, but maybe in previous years I’d just deleted the e-mail without reading it, as I often do. But for some reason the idea of a masquerade this year excited me. Maybe it was time that I went out and socialized with some of the people I worked with, and what better way to do it than behind the facade of a costume?
As the day of the masquerade approached I began to get second thoughts. Did I really want to go to the bother of finding a costume and making an effort to socialize with a lot of people I didn’t know, at what would undoubtedly be a very dull affair? When I mentioned the party to Jake, he insisted that I should go, and he even came up with an idea for my costume, offering to lend me one of his old uniforms, so that I could go as a police officer.
The party was held on a Friday night at one of the big hotels downtown, only about five blocks from where I lived. At eight o’clock that evening I was standing in front of my mirror, looking at myself in my brother’s uniform. Although Jake was older than me, I had a slightly larger build, and the short-sleeved blue shirt stretched across my chest a little too tightly, making me feel more like a male stripper than a policeman. I had to admit, though, that I got kind of a kick out of having handcuffs and a nightstick in my belt, and a fake gun on my hip. It gave me a feeling of power.
Well, what the hell, I thought. Maybe I would end up taking a girl home for the night. Everyone always got drunk at these parties, and I was sure she wouldn’t remember me any better the next day than I would remember her. In any case, I planned on taking full advantage of the open bar.
When I walked into the hotel ballroom I was surprised to see how many people had really gone all out in putting together their costumes. As I made my way through the crowd I recognized a couple of women from my department, dressed up as French maids, complete with fishnet stockings and black spike heels. One of them was married, which didn’t interest me at all, and the other was known to have slept with a lot of guys in the office, which interested me even less.
Making my way to the bar, I ordered a beer and chugged it down, hoping to get as happily drunk as possible, so this party would be tolerable. The dance floor was already crowded with people, and the noise level in the room was rising. I was taking it all in, trying to pretend that I was having a good time, when my eyes strayed to the door, and my jaw dropped open as a woman dressed in a Catwoman costume walked in.
I had never seen her before, I was sure of that. A blonde with a body like that was not something I was likely to forget. The upper part of her face was covered by a black plastic mask, complete with fake whiskers and cat’s ears. The rest of her costume was also black: smooth black patent leather pants that clung to her so snugly they could’ve been painted on, a tight black leather corset that laced up the back and did amazing things for her tits, and spike-heeled black leather boots. A black leather whip hung from her waist.
My eyes swept her from her thigh-high boots to her stunning blond hair and back again, drinking in every movement she made, watching the way her pants pulled tightly over her body as she walked.
She sauntered over to the bar and ordered a drink, sipping it slowly as she looked around her. As her eyes finally fell on me, I saw her lips curl into a smile. I felt a bit embarrassed; I had been staring at her, and definitely not at her eyes. I was surprised and a little confused when she slid over to the stool next to me and sat down.
Still smiling at me, she reached out a hand and ran her long fingernails across my bare arm. I was totally taken aback by her forward behavior. I also couldn’t believe this stroke of good luck. She was beautiful, she was sexy, and all her attention was turned on me. Then, without saying a word, she grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed herself to my body, grinding her hips against mine.
I pressed my hands against the small of her back and tried to settle into the steady rhythm of the music as she moved against me suggestively. She smelled incredible, of leather and shampoo, a hint of perfume, and some lotion. It was driving me crazy, and I was instantly aroused. When she moved in to kiss me I parted my lips and slid my tongue into her mouth, tasting her. I was so turned on I felt dizzy.
“I love policemen,” she whispered as she slid her lips from mine and trailed them down my neck. “They’re always in control. Except sometimes.” She took a step back then and locked eyes with me. Her smile was somewhat challenging now as she moved lithely in front of me, the tight leather hugging her curves as she swayed her hips and ran her hands invitingly over her body.
When I stepped closer to touch her again, she moved farther out of my grasp. She obviously wanted to tease me, and her plan was working. Sweat began to form on my forehead, and I could practically feel my blood boiling for her. She was virtually making me beg for something that she evidently wanted as much as I did. I remembered what she’d said about being in control. Maybe this was about power.
Taking a sudden step toward her, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her tightly against me, grinding my hips against her, showing her just how badly I wanted her. She tried to pull away from me, but not too hard. I leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “This game would be more fun someplace else.”
For a long moment she just continued to look at me, and then she simply nodded. Taking her hand firmly, I led her off the dance floor and out of the ballroom, through the hotel lobby, and out onto the sidewalk.
Once we were away from the hotel, I pinned her against the nearest building, moving in to kiss her neck. Expertly she dodged away from me and continued walking. I caught up with her. “What’s your name anyway?” I asked her.
She grinned at me without breaking stride. “It’s Catwoman,” she murmured. “Don’t you know that?” And then she leaned close to my ear and made a very sexy purring noise. Shivers rocketed down my spine. With a response like that, I didn’t care anymore what her name was.
It seemed to take 10 times longer to traverse the five blocks to my apartment than it had taken me to get from there to the hotel. All I could think about was the beauty beside me. Where had she come from? How could I possibly be this lucky? There were hundreds of questions running through my mind, but I forgot them all when we finally reached my apartment. As soon as I closed the door behind us she grabbed me and pinned me back against the wall in a fierce kiss.
Before I was even fully aware of what was happening, she had pulled open my shirt and had it on the floor. I moved away from her long enough to make it into the bedroom, but she was hot on my heels. Her lips were pressed to the bare skin of my chest as she pulled my belt off, slid my zipper down, and pushed my pants to the floor. I kicked my shoes off and stepped out of the pants just as she pushed my boxers down as well. My cock sprang to life in front of her, and she sank to her knees on the floor, wrapping her lips around it.
I was unprepared for this assault; my legs gave way and I fell onto the bed behind me. Her mouth never seemed to lose its place on my now very hard cock. She took it deep down her throat and sucked hard, bringing me dangerously close to the edge, and then slowing to an even, steady pace that had me bordering on insanity, writhing with pleasure under her knowledgeable mouth and tongue.
But of course she didn’t let me come. Just before the point of no return, she pulled her mouth off me and straightened up, telling me to roll over onto my stomach. I groaned with frustration. I didn’t much relish feeling my hard cock crushed beneath me, especially as it would then be out of reach of her mouth. As I hesitated, she pulled out the little whip that hung at her waist. It didn’t look very menacing; it was more of a toy than anything else, a short plastic handle with a few limp leather strands attached. She couldn’t have done more with it than to sting me a little bit, but she didn’t even do that; she simply held it by the handle and let the strands dangle onto my thigh. And yet there was something thrillingly erotic about it, the way she was standing there, the picture she made holding the whip. She slid the strands lightly over my leg, and when she told me again to roll over, I did so.
With my face pressed against the mattress, I could feel her running the dangling strands of the whip gently along my body. Then, without warning, she gave me a quick smack on the ass with her free hand. My body tensed, but a further wave of excitement rushed through me. Even in the midst of my lust I couldn’t help wondering what had gotten into me. Granted she was hot, but being dominated had never really been my thing. However, she had definitely gotten my attention, which was more than I could say for most of the women I’d fucked.
Then I remembered what she had said back at the hotel about being in control, and how she had seemed to challenge me even then. If this was a struggle for control, for power, how could I allow her to take charge this way? My mind began to race, seeking a way to turn the situation around. Meanwhile she appeared to be enjoying her ascendancy. “Okay,” she said then. “Now that you know who’s in charge here, fuck me.”
It was not a request; it was an order. And happy as I was to carry it out, I suddenly wanted it to be on my terms. As she turned away to unlace her corset and remove her leather pants, I reached to the floor for the belt of my costume and detached the handcuffs that hung from it, picking them up and concealing them in the bedclothes.
When she turned back around she had taken off every stitch she’d been wearing, except for the black plastic mask across her upper face. She looked as sexy as I had imagined, and for a brief moment I forgot about everything else. But then, as she moved to the bed, I caught her right wrist in my hand and snapped one of the cuffs on it before she could move away. Pulling her down on the bed, I pinned her hands above her head, lacing the handcuffs through the rungs of the wrought-iron headboard before snapping the other cuff around her left wrist. Then I stepped back to admire my handiwork. She wasn’t smiling now, but she didn’t look angry either. It was as if she had been expecting something like that, and maybe she had.
“Now who’s in control?” I said mockingly. “Don’t worry, baby, I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Although you have been a very naughty pussy this evening.” I lowered myself to the bed and bent down to press my mouth to her full stiff-nippled breast. Then I moved down on the bed and spread her legs. “That pussy needs a licking,” I said, and moved in, sliding my tongue between her wet, swollen cunt lips.
Still, she didn’t say a word, but I heard her draw in her breath sharply. I kept my tongue working, and suddenly her hips bucked, pressing her crotch harder against my face. I moved to her clit, sucking it into my mouth as I ran my tongue across it. She tasted so good, and I almost forgot about my throbbing cock as I became consumed with the effort of making her come. I wanted to see what that body would look like sprawled across my bed, shaking and writhing beneath my expert touch.
Sliding my fingers inside her, I began working her G-spot, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke. I felt a surge of triumph as she began to moan, softly at first, then more loudly. The moans turned to cries, and then she was begging. “Oh, please, oh, God, oh, fuck, please let me come. Let me come for you. I’m your naughty pussy and I want to come for you!”
Her words sounded muffled in my ears, as my head was sandwiched between her clenched thighs, but I knew what she was saying, and I gloried in the fact that I had turned the tables on her, that I had taken control and given her everything she could handle.
Finally I sent her over the edge, spiraling into an explosive orgasm that left her body twitching and writhing, just as I had fantasized. When her climax ebbed, that body collapsed limply against the cool sheets.
Kneeling between her thighs, I lowered my mouth to her hard nipples, and she whimpered. I looked up into her eyes, which seemed to plead with me, though whether to let her rest or to go on with what I had been doing, I was not quite sure. I moved to kiss her on the mouth, and immediately her lips opened under mine and her tongue probed hotly for my throat. “Don’t stop…” she breathed into my mouth.
With our lips still locked together I positioned myself between her thighs and slid my rigid cock into her dripping wet pussy, sliding every last inch of myself inside her. Her hips lifted off the bed, her body straining to accommodate me. Moving in and out of that clutching pussy, I slid my mouth downward, flicking my tongue across the hollow of her neck, then moving down to her hard nipples, never stopping the even rhythm of my cock as it pounded into her.
When I looked up at one point to meet her eyes, I felt a sudden flash of recognition, but it was too vague and fleeting for me to identify, and it passed as quickly as it had come. She was bucking her hips up to meet mine now with every stroke, and I concentrated on possessing her with renewed energy and vigor. My balls slapped against her ass, and I reached down to rub her clit as I felt my own climax building in my gut.
Soon she was straining against the handcuffs, lifting her head off the pillow and covering my lips with hers, locking our tongues together as she came around my cock. The spasmodic clutching of her cunt sent me spiraling. My balls tightened as I came, and I cried out as I shot everything I had into the fabulous body of the writhing minx beneath me.
As soon as I came to my senses I leaned down to kiss her, then reached to pull off her mask. But she turned her head away. “Please,” she panted, “undo my handcuffs first.” Obligingly I retrieved the keys from my pants and released her from her constraints. Immediately she sprang off the bed and made a dash for her clothing, heaped on the floor. I moved to stop her, but she heaved one of her boots at me, and I fell back on the bed,
“What is your problem?” I yelled, but she didn’t say a word as she pulled on her partially laced corset, then scurried to slip into her pants. I moved to her again, and this time managed to pin her to the wall. Bringing my mouth to hers, I kissed her, reaching up to undo her mask as I did so.
“Christ, it’s you!” I gasped as I pulled the mask off to reveal the face of the female bartender I had fucked only a few nights before. I was too surprised to stop her again as she slipped away and made a dash for the door. I tried to follow her, but she was in the elevator before I had time to put on something decent.
“Fuck!” I yelled again as I sank down on the bed. She had been the best fuck of my life, and I still didn’t remember her name.
—N.L., Buffalo, New York