Date: Fri, 26 Oct 2001 09:37:55 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Halloween Story--Masquerade

				MASQUERADE
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

      "He's turning left!" I nearly yelled at Trisha.
      "I see him." she said as she turned the steering wheel.  "You act
like I've never tailed a guy before."
      "Well, have you?"
      "Mind your own business." she snorted.  "This is your stalking we're
working on, not mine."
      "It was your idea." I argued.
      "Well, Adam, if you don't want to follow him, I can always turn
around and...."
      "Don't you dare!" I said.  "He's stopping, you'd better pull over."
      "I think he's going to the costume store." Trisha said.
      "I'm on him." I said.  "You be here and ready to make a quick getaway
if need be."
      "You got it, Killer." she said to me.
      "Har. Har." I pretend-laughed as I jumped out of the car and sprinted
after Peter Grobeson's pert little buttocks.  I had to see what he was
going to buy.  How else would I be able to pick him out at the masquerade
party tomorrow night?
      There's one problem with being gay that you don't read much about.
All the books are aimed to teach you how to like yourself, how to tell your
family and friends about yourself the first time, that sort of stuff.  Not
a book on the shelves, not a one of them, tells you what the hell you're
supposed to do when you're out of the closet, meeting other guys, you meet
someone you like and want to get close to...and he doesn't even know you
exist.  I guess you're supposed to pull the tricks girls do.
      That was what I'd done, admitted my lust for Peter Grobeson to my
best female friend Trisha, and she'd been happy to tell me just what I had
to do to get my dream stud to notice me, which was to tail him like a
policeman, shadow him like a stalker, learn about him...and look for an
opening.
      So I was doing that as well as I could, trying not to be noticed
(isn't it funny how you do that...you want the guy to notice you, so you
try to blend into the background and hide if he turns around?) when Peter
walked up to the costume pick-up window at the costume store, clutching a
pink reservation slip in his hand.
      I had to know what he was wearing, it would be my big chance.  Peter
would be in costume and so would I, I could make my play for him and maybe
he wouldn't even know who I was when I did it.
      There was a hell of a big party tomorrow night at Professor Sturm's
house (he wasn't gay but he just loved hosting such things...you really
wonder about some people).  A costume ball, my friends called it with a
smirk and a wink as they emphasized the "ball" part of it.  It was going to
be well over 75% gay attendance, and there were lots of rooms for couples
to sneak off for a little bit of the nasty.  Professor Sturm didn't
mind...like I said, it makes you wonder.  I intended to be part of one of
those couples...with Peter Grobeson's gorgeous body as the other part.
      I got up to the counter just in time to hear Peter say, "Yes, the
Frankenstein costume." in confirmation to the clerk's query.  I started to
back away again when Peter turned and saw me and his face, that square,
beautiful face with those eyes that bored their blue daggers right into my
heart, parted those rich lips and he spoke, he actually spoke, right to me!
      "Hey, Adam." he said.  "You here to pick up a costume for the party?"
      "Yeah." I said, then I sort of babbled. "I've been really looking
forward to this.  I'm going to win that costume contest hands-down, my
costume will really kill the judges, just you wait and see."
      "What are you going to come as?" he asked me.
      "Uh...that would ruin the surprise." I said as the clerk brought out
a large black suit on a hanger with a large green Frankenstein mask
attached in a separate small bag outside it.  I memorized it as well as I
could; there could be other versions of Frankie at the party.
      "Will that be cash or charge?" the clerk asked.
      "It was prepaid." Peter pointed out.
      The clerk looked at the receipt and agreed.  "Here you go, sir."
      "Thank you.  So, I'll see you at the party tonight?" Peter said.
      "You bet'cha." I agreed and stood grinning stupidly as he waved and
walked out of the shop.
      "Your reservation slip, sir?" the clerk said to me.
      I turned to the woman and I said, "For God's sake, tell me you have
something I can buy or rent for tomorrow night!  Anything in my size,
anything at all."  God, I just hoped my credit card could stand the strain.
      Trisha came in as I was getting my costume.  "What are you doing in
here?" she asked me incredulously.  "He's getting away."  .
      "Let him run." I said to her.  "He's going to walk right into my trap
tomorrow night.  I getting the bait now."
      "We don't have much left.  How about this one, sir?" the clerk showed
it to me.
      Trisha looked at the costume, a cheap pirate's outfit made of crepe
paper and a plastic hat, and she showed herself a true friend. "You won't
catch anything but moths with that thing.  But go ahead and buy it, we'll
use it as a model, I'll borrow a sewing machine, and we'll make you a real
costume before tomorrow night."
      "Trish." I said gratefully to her.  "I love you.  Will you marry me?"
      She dimpled.  "Only if you're willing to share Peter with me after
you catch him."
      "You got a deal." I shook hands with her.
      The clerk just sighed and muttered, "Halloween.  They always come out
on Halloween."
      "Hey, it's the most important gay holiday." I said as I handed her my
credit card.
      For only fifteen bucks, it wasn't turned down.
      I maxed on out buying the material, though, but it was worth it.  By
the same time the next day, I was decked out in a black-and-white pirate's
costume.  A pair of my black dress pants and a heavily modified dress
jacket-turned-into-vest (the things we do for love) went over a white shirt
adorned with ruffles courtesy of Trisha, topped with that atrocious plastic
hat now covered in black velvet glued on with a gold trim, a black eye
patch made from a leftover scrap of velvet, a bandanna and some burnt cork
to give me a heavy beard stubble, and I was ready to brave the bounding
main.  Well, at least a bounding mattress courtesy of Peter Grobeson!  Yum!
      I got to the party and managed to have a good time while I waited,
talking to Trisha, flirting with the guys, and drinking...a lot of
drinking.  Peter was late, but eventually that green Frankenstein marched
in the door.
      I turned to Trisha who was wearing a mismatch semi-costume meant to
be a fairy princess (she had stinted her own costume for me, what a
friend!) and said, "Wish me luck.  The booty is in sight."
      "And packaged so well." she sighed looking over, though you couldn't
see Peter's booty from this distance.
      "I'll hack the scoundrel asunder with my trusty blade." I said.
      "Go get him.  I'll expect a full report later tonight."
      I went over.  It was nearly ten o'clock, the party had been going for
over an hour and the crowd was getting pretty raunchy.  Professor Sturm was
dressed up like the Ghost of Christmas Present out of "A Christmas Carol"
and sitting on one side near the fireplace, a benevolent, jolly spirit.  I
passed by him and gave him a big grin and he waved back at me.  Around me
the dances had gotten slower and the bodies were grinding together in a
gathering reminiscent of a pre-orgy.
      It was time, high time, to make my play.  Otherwise, someone would
grab him.
      He was over at the punch bowl and I walked up and said, "Avast there,
matey, how fare the sails tonight?"  Okay, so I'm no pirate, I'd had no
time to practice!
      He turned and looked at me out of that heavy rubber face.
"U-u-u-u-uhh!" he answered.
      "Well, aren't you the smooth talker?" I said as I sidled up next to
him.  "Makes a bucko lower his sails and prepare for boarding."  Yeah, I
know, I'd had a few too many drinks while waiting.  It sounded okay when I
said it that night, and it seemed to work.
      Frankie turned around and caught his mouth of his costume to lever
his drink up and into his real lips.  I caught a glimpse of those lips and
I nearly fainted.
      "The party is winding down already, you came so late." I said.  "But
if you would like to get right to the main action, we can go find a room."
      He looked me up and down, and I wondered if he knew who I was, he
didn't seem to recognize me.  The eye patch and cork stubble can obscure a
face a good deal and Peter hadn't really noticed I existed before, as I'd
said.
      But he reached out and grabbed me and pulled me to him, going,
"U-u-u-uhhh!" and I giggled.  I don't mean I laughed, I mean I giggled like
the biggest fairy queen you can imagine.
      "Ooh, I love the big, strong, silent type!" I said as I felt that
hard-on pressing against my stomach.  He had those platform-type shoes, he
was taller than me by a few inches.
      "If we hurry, we can get back in time for the costume judging at
eleven o'clock." I panted.
      One of his big arms around me, I was nearly dragged off to the back
of Professor Sturm's house.  I turned and caught Trisha's grinning face,
and gave her a "V" victory sign as I left the party main.
      The rule was simple, a closed door meant it was occupied.  We had to
go through several rooms and up the stairs to the second floor at the end,
before we found an unoccupied room, and that one was the Professor's study.
I got us inside and shut the door, found it had a lock and locked it as
well.
      "God, Peter, I've wanted you for so long." I said as I stared at the
huge form in black.  I couldn't see Peter in that get-up at all, but that
could change.  "I followed you to the costume store." I admitted.  "I had
to see what you were wearing, had to.  I hope you don't mind.  I...I want
to see you again later if I can."
      "U-u-u-uhh!" was his only response, that and when I got closer, which
was to grab me and press those rubber lips up against mine, hard!  It
tasted nasty.
      Then that tongue snaked out and into my mouth and I was tasting
nectar, the sweet ambrosia of Peter Grobeson's mouth!  "Oh, God!" I groaned
and I gripped that broad body, stirring up a dust of talcum powder used to
simulate the dust of the grave.
      Those hands, those big, green-rubber-covered hands, were clutching me
to him, and I perched on the desk and I kissed him back, raised up my
hip-boot-covered legs (courtesy of Trisha's tailoring) and I snaked them
around Peter's hips and I locked them together and I pulled him hard
against me.
      He pressed down on me, pushing me back to lie on the desk, and papers
and pencils went rolling and sliding, with a wooden clatter like bones in a
bonepile, and a rustle like batwings.
      "Oh, God, Peter, take off the mask, please, let me kiss that face of
yours." I panted.
      "N-u-u-uh!" came the grunted reply.  Those green gloves-for-hands
were slipped off, however, and I grabbed one when they came up to feel my
chest and I slipped a finger into my mouth and I sucked on it blissfully.
      The free hand found my crotch and began to knead and twist at my
ballsac, and I grunted my pleasure around those fingers like sweet pink
worms that writhed in my mouth.  I wanted to taste him nonstop, make it
last, make it forever, for this was my first real case of puppy love, sheer
unadulterated and unadorned lust for a man, and this time I didn't have to
pretend I wasn't crazy about him, didn't have to act like I didn't want his
cock inside of me.  I was out, I was proud, and I had Peter Grobeson in my
arms.
      Inside that dumb costume which was pelting me with a cloud of talcum
powder, but you can't have everything at once, can you?  I didn't care, for
Peter now began to unfasten my pants and work them down my hips.
      "Oh, God, oh, God, Peter." I groaned.  "Please, fuck me, Peter, fuck
me!" I groaned as my midsection was bared to the cooling night air.  I
don't think the upper floor had the heat turned on, yet.  But I was making
enough heat to fend it off, just as long as Peter would ram that dong of
his into me!
      He knelt and took my cock in his hand and I groaned heartily when
those rubber lips were pushed against my cockhead and that mouth, those
lips, the ones I'd dreamed of, finally latched onto my prong and I felt the
warm moisture swarm around me, bubbling like soda-pop but warm, warm!
      My cock jerked a line of passion right to my brain when his lips
reached their nadir, then clutched tight and skinned my foreskin up with a
firm grip.  "Guh!  Gah!" I yelped as his mouth worked magical pleasures
over my prick, I was in an ecstasy borne from more than the sheer pleasure
of being sucked, I was being sucked all right, but I was being sucked by
the wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous, marvelous Peter Grobeson!
     .
 I don't know how long he sucked me, I was lost to time and space alike,
but when he tired of it, I realized and rose up, gripped that rubber head
and pulled the face up to look into mine.
      "Hey, come on, time for you to fuck me." I told those eyes deep
within the cavern of that mask.  It gave his face a disconnected look, like
the eyes were part of the mask but had worked loose and fallen back
inwards.  But they danced with mischievous glee, and I was surprised to see
that the eyes I had always thought were blue were in fact a light gray
color.  I didn't care, I loved their metallic glory just as much as I had
loved their azure splendor before.  Dazzled by love, that was what I had
been.
      "Come on, Peter, take off the mask and fuck me." I begged him.
"Please?  I want to see your face when you stick it into me."
      "N-n-u-u-u-hh!" came the rather predictable response.
      "All right." I sighed.  "But next time, for sure, you're going to
look right into my eyes when you shove it in me, you got it?"
      "U-u-u-uhhh!"
      "Then let's get this fuck on the road." I said.  "How do you want
me?"
      He was unfastening his pants, which were done up kind of funny, a
long piece of cloth functioned as a belt that went all the way around.
Done up, it made the pants look like they were fastened naturally rather
than being cinched up, which I guess was why they did it that way.  But it
took Peter some time, and I was groping at him, on my knees, long before he
got those pants undone and that prong of his freed.
      God, he was big!  I'd noticed Peter had a nice basket on him, but a
shriveled up dong just doesn't do justice in any form to the
blood-engorged, rock-hard, towering pillar of manhood that stood before me
in all its unwrapped glory.
      Worshipping at this idol of mine, I licked up the shaft with my
tongue without taking the shaft into my mouth.  I caught the wobbling dong
with my hand and I continued to lick at it.  It was salty, and it was
musky, and it was rich from its long damp nest inside that heavy costume,
and I drank deeply of the heady oily coating it bore, cleansing it and
loving it and making it a part of me from then on.
      Peter loved my lips when I finally gripped them around his pud, his
knees buckled from the pleasure and the first sound other than a grunt slid
from his lips.  "Mmmmhh!" was all it was, but it was unaffected, it was
heartfelt, it was intense and it was genuine!
      I moved slowly, loving the long dong as I pushed it inside my mouth,
then pulled it back out slowly, wringing every iota of pleasure from it
with the languid motions of my mouth, and Peter again groaned his pleasure
at my gentle urgings of his body.
      Soon his prod was a slippery shaft of male lust inside my mouth and I
released it to hang greasy and enraged and I said, "Time for you to pop my
cherry."  I didn't have a cherry any longer, but he got the idea.
      He kicked off the pants, and the shirt, too, to sit in only a gray
t-shirt and that green mask still covering his body.  His muscles were as
large and well-formed as I had already dreamed they'd be, in fact, a little
larger than I'd thought.  Maybe he'd worked out the afternoon before coming
over, to make his muscles larger for the party, some guys do that.  He
looked good.
      "You look good." I assured him.  "Now, that prod of yours is going to
take some doing, why don't you sit down and let me take it at my own
speed."
      He sat in the Professor's chair, a wooden swivel type, and it let me
back into him while I rested my elbows on the desk.  Peter only had to
guide me in a little and then I had a firm grip on it.  My ass opened up
like it was an old friend, but I'd expected that, it's always easier to get
fucked when you want it, and I wanted this a hell of a lot.
      When I got it firmly inside me, Peter stood back up and I was thrust
against and onto the desk, and he began to fuck my ass hard like a, well,
like a monster possessed and controlled by his desires.  Right in character
for Frankenstein's monster!
      God, he was big!  God, it was hard!  God, it was hot!  God...God, it
felt good!  "Oh, yeah, fuck me, Peter, fuck me!" I begged him.  "Come on,
man, harder, fuck me harder!  I don't want to be able to sit down for days.
Make me remember this, Peter, I want to remember this, the first time you
fucked me!"
      That earned me an eager "U-u-u-uhh!" and he did his best, I was
rammed and crammed like...well, like never before in my life or since.
That hard rod was slamming in and out of me and making a loud slurping
sound as it moved, and it was hot, hotter than ever!
      I felt my face flush, my body trill and quiver, and I realized I was
about to come.  And I wasn't even jerking my cock.  "I'm going to come,
Peter, I'm going to come!" I groaned.  "Come with me, please, Peter, shoot
your wad while I spurt mine all over Professor Sturm's freshman papers.
God, oh, God, oh, oh, OOOHHH!"
      "Uh, uh, u-u-u-u-uhhh!" Peter obligingly chimed in.
      "Oh, God, yes, yes, yes, uh-uh, God, ga-ah-AHHH!!!  SHI-I-I-I-TTT!!!"
I creamed like I'd said, I squirted my jizz right on some papers on
Professor's Sturm's desk.  I didn't know whose papers they were, but I
stained them but good.  I wondered if the one on top, the one that got
almost obliterated, would know about the party and understand that their
paper was covered in dried jism?
      "UH-UH-UUUUHHHH!" Peter said as I finished my climax, a bit late but
still very welcome, my body was still dancing in the afterglow of the
climax and hadn't subsided into tenderness like it often did, he lurched
and rammed his prick into me and I felt the hot, salty, steaming jizz, felt
it flowing into me and I felt damned good about that.  The man I'd always
wanted had done it to me, he'd fucked me and now my ass was being filled
with his come, and I felt my ass clench tight on it, not wanting it to
leave me, wanting to hold it within me for the rest of my life.
      Done, Peter wiped at his face, ineffectually, as I turned to look at
him.
      "God, Peter, that was as good as I'd always thought it would be.
Just like I'd imagined.  No...no, it was better." I said to him.
      "U-u-u-uuhhh!" he said.
      "God, Peter, that joke's getting old." I complained a little
pettishly.  "I'm pouring out my heart to you, and you can only say
'U-u-u-uhh?'"
      "U-u-u-uhhh!" he confirmed.
      "All right." I said.  "Let's get back to the party, if you're going
to stay in character so much you won't even say thank you for the great
fuck, Adam." I said.  I was, to my surprise, a little angry at Peter now.
God, you give a guy your ass and he can at least say thank you, can't he?"
      I left him to pull back on his costume and went back downstairs, and
maybe a little of my blind puppy-love for him had died.  But only a little,
I saw Trisha and she mouthed at me, "Well?"
      I made an "OK" circle with my finger and thumb and she nodded.  I was
going to go over to her, but then Professor Sturm stood up and called,
"It's eleven o'clock, time for the costume contest!"  And everyone gathered
around and I couldn't think of getting over to her just then, until it was
over.
      "The judges have been moving among you and made their five choices,
and each of them have ranked their choices in order of preference, with
their first choice getting five points and the second getting four and so
on.  The five costumes with the highest cumulative points will be called up
here and you can vote for the winner with your applause.  As Dorothy in the
Wizard of Oz...Clement Barlow."
      That old queen.  Of course he'd come as Dorothy!  Black wig with
ponytails and a blue gingham dress...and his eyebrows plucked so he'd look
more like a young Judy Garland.
      "Next, we have the Human Garbage Can...Jeffrey Pelsner."
      Jeffrey had done a lot of work on that costume, all right.  He
deserved to be up there and....
      "And as Prince Charming...Peter Grobeson!"
      What???  It couldn't be!  It...yes, there was Peter Grobeson dressed
in a neat little purple tunic and tights with a small crown on his head,
stepping up to join the others by the Professor.
      "Peter came as Prince Charming?"  Trisha had gotten over to me.
      "He wasn't Frankenstein?" I said.
      "But Adam, that means...."
      "Yeah, I know what that means." I said.  "Let's get the fuck out of
here.  Now!"
      I stumbled out to Trisha's car and sat dazed as the sounds of fun and
frolic diminished to the common roar of a car's engine.
      "I wonder who the guy really was?" Trisha said.  "Adam, you couldn't
tell it was someone else in that costume?"
      "He wouldn't take the costume off." I said.  "Not at first.  And
then, well, I wasn't noticing too closely.  It's not like I've ever seen
Peter without his clothes on; how was I to know it wasn't Peter's dick I
was sucking on?"
      "Boy!" Trisha shook her head.  "Fucked by the wrong guy.  How you
going to explain this to your grandchildren?"
      I managed to chuckle.  "Simple, really.  I'll just tell them that
grandpa acted like a slut one night, and paid the price for it."
      "Well, at least you got laid." Trisha said.  "I don't know why I go
to those parties.  It's not like any of the men are going to be interested
in me."
      "When we're both old and wrinkled." I patted her hand.  "We'll get
married.  I promise."
      "Thanks." She said.  "At the rate I'm going, I'm going to have to
hold you to that."
      By the next day, I was pretty much over my shock and disappointment.
Even when Peter came through the cafeteria, I was able to look at him with
my usual look of unrequited longing.  Okay, so I'd missed him last night,
just wait until next time...."
      "Hey, Adam." a voice said to me.
      It was Flash Gerard, a large, blond, blow-hard of a football
defensive lineman.
      "What do you want, Flash?" I said.
      "Buzz off, creep." Trisha said loyally.
      "I just want to say one thing to you." Flash insisted.
      "What is it?" I asked him.
      His big square face looked at me and he said, "U-u-u-uhhh!!!"
      "Oh, God!" I nearly screamed.  "Oh, God!  That was you!"
      He grinned.  "The frat house is having a party tonight.  You can wear
your pirate's costume again if you want to come."
      "Get out of here, you big jerk." Trisha said.
      Flash shrugged and walked off.  He seemed...disappointed.
      "The nerve of that guy." Trisha said to me.  "He and Peter must have
set the whole thing up, just to make fun of you.  What are you going to
do?"
      "Well...." I said.
      "Adam, you wouldn't!" Trisha said, horrified.
      "He couldn't have set it up.  And well, it wasn't like I didn't come
on to him." I said.  "He was just standing there and I came up and...."
      "Adam, you couldn't!" Trisha said.
      "And besides." I said.
      "Adam, no!"
      "He was a hell of a good fuck." I concluded.
      She just shook her head.  "God, Adam, you're such a tramp!"
      "Maybe." I said as I got up to go talk to Flash.  "But at least I'm
getting some tonight."
      This was turning into a Halloween I'd never forget!

				  THE END
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