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Hate Fuck on Halloween

A Halloween college party gone wrong.

“Hey Lindsay, how’s it going?” I asked.

The brunette student sat on the floor outside my office. She was studying a page of class scribblings that had been transcribed into a dog-eared, spiral-ringed notebook. Even in the dim half-light of the hallway I could make out her lush and curvy form. Whoa! This girl knocked the wind out of my lungs. I had spent several sweaty nights recreating her image in myriad naughty ways.

She was wearing velvety, powder-blue sweat pants and a matching zip up hoodie. My bet was that the word “Juicy” was stenciled onto her pert butt (indeed it was juicy). The hoodie zipper was half way down, revealing a plain, white tank top. Two luscious mounds of premium, coed, sweater meat were barely held in check by that thin layer of cotton.

Oh to forget my place and bury my face in that soft, swelling flesh! To nurse, to lick, to nuzzle — the dream could barely be contained. Those tits were bursting with squishy goodness. Would it be so wrong for a professor to have his way with one of his students? Who would really be harmed?

I would rip down the metal tang of the zipper with my teeth, slide the coat off her shoulders, and briskly pull the tank top over her head. And there she would be, free and available, her chest unfettered by clothing. I would hold those tits, those magnificent tits, in my hands. The delicate weight of her breasts would rest in my open palms. Her nipples — those crinkled, pink gumdrops — would stare up at me.

Right there in the hall, I would grope and squeeze her boobs in childlike delight. My hands would gleefully memorize every inch of her creamy skin. And she would moan, ecstasy dripping from her throat. My fingers would send electric ripples coursing through her flesh. A tweak and a pinch: her nipples would crinkle and harden under my touch. The space between us would evaporate; our bodies would press together, grinding and moving to a simultaneous, driving beat.

Humping with lust in the dimly lit corridor, we would be propelled into one another. Our bottoms would grind, pressing into a desperate need. The friction would become too much for us to take. From this moment the end would be inevitable.

Fumbling in my pocket, I would find my keys and unlock my office door. We would stumble into my poorly lit cavern, throwing books and papers callously — wantonly — to the floor. A surface would be what we craved; a place was necessary from which we would consecrate our passion. Her thin fingers would hook into the waistband of the sweats, pulling them downward in a fluid motion. A garden of delights would await me. She would hop up and spread her legs. A more beautiful sight could not be imagined. She would be moist and dripping, spread slightly in preparation for my cock. I would slide into that delicious pink, feeling an incredible rapturous bliss. Everything would be wet. Everything would be warm. Everything would be soft.

And then we would fuck. And fuck! AND FUCK! Rutting against each other, our sweat mixing, we would writhe and pulsate. Flesh would hit flesh in a timeless dance. And we would cum, clutching each other in need and desperation. Satisfaction, that elusive songbird, would find us for that moment. And we would bask in its temporary glow.

“Oh hey, Professor Matthews,” Lindsay said, looking up from her studies. The dream faded from reality. It was only at that moment that I noticed the fake cat ears resting on Lindsay’s head. Her dark, brown hair was pulled back through a scrunchie into an adorable ponytail. Over Lindsay’s face was black make-up that had been drawn into a button nose and whiskers.

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“Halloween costume?” I asked, trying to regain control. I didn’t want to lose it there in the hallway.

“Meow,” she replied, beaming up at me. “Yeah it’s just like a start, though. I’m gonna do a lot more. I have a tail and everything at home. I didn’t want to walk around campus in that get-up, though. It’s too cold. Anyway, but I figured that I get started early. It’s never too early to get into the Halloween spirit, right professor?”

“If you say so,” I said, chuckling to myself lightly. “You never know when you might get visited by the Great Pumpkin.” Lindsay giggled. Her entire body shook deliciously. I wanted to ravish her on the cold linoleum of the hallway.

If I knew the students, tonight — Halloween — would be one of the biggest party nights of the year.

A wave of nostalgia overcame me. I missed my Halloweens past. There was no better time to ogle women. Tonight they would be on the prowl, all competing to out-slut the others. Halloween costumes were a no-hold’s barred opportunity for women to sex it up without losing their dignity. After dressing like a Playboy Bunny, the woman could claim the next day that it was just a costume. Nothing was meant by it. The holiday demanded a little skin. No harm, no foul.

And sometimes, if one played their cards right, that guy could get lucky. I warmly remembered several sluts of Halloweens past: a nurse, a cheerleader, some Disney princess. On Halloween the rules were meant to be bent. Nookie was just the natural conclusion of the costume.

I think Lindsay saw my wistful daydream of escapades past, and mistook the expression for disgust. “Oh come on. Don’t be a spoilsport, Professor Mathews. Halloween is totally fun,” Lindsay said brightly, shaking me out of my reverie.

She batted her eyelashes and I was entranced. “When else can a girl totally dress up however she likes, with no regrets and no worries? Halloween is like a free pass to totally cut loose. The rest of my outfit I probably could never wear on any other night but tonight. I plan to have some fun.”

Lindsay precisely echoed my thoughts. I grinned as I imagined what the rest of the outfit looked like. What kind of cat would she be? A naughty kitty? A bad kitty? Would Lindsay purr if she was stroked the right way? The possibilities were mind melting.

I had to get off this subject; it could only get me in trouble. I asked, “You look like you have been waiting for awhile. I’m sorry about that; time got away from me. Are you here about your paper? If so you are beating the rush.” Students had a tendency to procrastinate. They would be beating down my door two days before the due date.

The Enhanced Male

“Naaah, that’s under control. I think I know, like, what I’m doing with that,” Lindsay said, waving her hand. “That stuff you were talking about in class on Weber sounded pretty interesting. I think I’m going to write on that.”

“Cool,” I replied.

Lindsay nodded, packed up her notebook, and then put it into her bag. She shrugged and said, “I’ve actually been waiting to see Professor Halloway.” Lindsay gestured at the office which was directly across the hall from mine. A disgruntled frown spread across her face.

“Did you have an appointment?”

“Yeah, she said she would meet me here and that was supposed to be a half hour ago.” I could clearly see tension, but Lindsay was doing here best to hold it back. She continued, “You haven’t seen her, have you?”

“Sorry,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I wish I could help.”

“Crap,” Lindsay muttered. She looked miffed. “This is the third time she’s ditched me. Unfortunately, I gotta head off to another class. I can’t stick around any longer. Can you let her know that I was here waiting for her?”

“Sure. If I see her, I’ll tell her.”

“Oh thank you,” Lindsay said gushing. She spoke with such enthusiasm I couldn’t help but think naughty thoughts. “I appreciate it Professor. I gotta fly.”

And then Lindsay was gone….


I was not surprised that Lynn Halloway was late.

She and I joined the Communications Department at the same time. Both of us were placed on temporary contracts that were good through the end of the school year. After that, our status was anyone’s guess.

The gossip was that a full time position that was opening up in May. One of the old codgers, a true dinosaur, was going to be retiring. A replacement position would almost certainly be in order. The job would be tenure track, and with all likelihood the recipient would eventually become a full Professor

Unfortunately, it looked like there would only be one job. Lynn and I knew this when we came on board. We understood that we were essentially being given a year-long extended interview by the Department Head. We also were very aware that we were the other person’s biggest rival. They would not go looking elsewhere unless we both screwed up. Only one person would get the job, and we both wanted it — bad!

Before I signed onto the year as a visiting professor, I was aware that the job would be competitive. I didn’t know, however, that I wouldn’t be able to fucking stand Lynn Halloway.

I’m convinced that there are some people out there with whom I am just not meant to get along. Lynn certainly fell into this category. Every time I was near her, I felt the sensation of nails on a chalk board. Her voice crawled under my skin; her presence gave me chills. From our first meeting I found Lynn Halloway to be cold, demeaning, and callous. She spoke only few words, but had an icy, Nurse Ratchet glare that cut to the quick. Voice a contradictory opinion, and with a single look she would make you feel like an idiot to the core. Her game was simple. She was smart; everyone else was stupid. The world was that stark and obvious.

From what I understood Lynn was a brilliant researcher, but that didn’t forgive (in my mind) her total disregard of the student body. Yes, I ogled certain “assets” of some of my students, but I worked hard to keep those thoughts to myself. I didn’t leer or make inappropriate statements. The dirty movies in my mind certainly didn’t affect anything I did in the classroom.

Lynn’s actions (in my opinion) were far less excusable. Her treatment of Lindsay was not unusual; in fact, it was the rule. I often found students waiting out in the hall for meeting Lynn had set up. Usually Lynn never showed. The students grumbled, but they had no real recourse. Lynn held control of their grades. If the students complained there were consequences. Unfortunately, in academe such behavior was forgivable if one managed to publish papers. And Lynn did — a lot. I’ve learned, however, not to feast on sour grapes. After the first week of the school year, I worked hard to ignore Lynn. I felt sorry for her students (one confided that Lynn personally and maliciously berated those who dared question her views in class; supposedly a student was brought to tears), but there wasn’t much I could do. Instead, I listened to the complaints, smiled in sympathy and went about my business.

A few minutes after Lindsay left, I heard some shuffling out in the hallway. I looked up from a stack of papers to see Lynn fumbling with her door. I couldn’t help but stare.

I’m ashamed, though. As much as I disliked Lynn, I couldn’t refrain from staring whenever I saw her. Goddamn, but she was a looker, a smoldering, ice princess with a body as fine as any I have ever seen.

Lynn was wearing a black, pinstripe pantsuit and jacket combo that was all the rage for young, professional attire. Despite not being able to see any skin, I could tell that she had something very interesting hidden under the dark fabric. Tall and slender, at about 5’9″, Lynn had a killer set of legs. They were long, muscular, and firm, the kind of stems that could fit so perfectly around my waist. Underneath her jacket, Lynn wore a grey, high-necked top. I think there was some sweater meat, but the amount was anyone’s guess. Lynn wore her wheat-blonde hair pulled back into a typically severe bun. A pair of rectangular, black glasses rested on her long, thin Roman nose. Not a single touch of make-up graced her face.

With the right flourishes, Lynn might be considered beautiful. Currently, though, she was plain and possibly even harsh. Lynn labored and strained to maintain a deliberately business exterior, but I often wondered if there was more than a driven, academic bitch underneath. Probably not, but one could never know.

Lynn’s lips formed into a snarl as she caught me looking up from my pile of papers. Locking her eyes on mine, she out spat a single word, “What?!”

A chill descended over me. How did this woman take all the life and energy out of a room? I was shaken, and I suddenly remembered why I couldn’t stand this woman. “One of your students was looking for you,” I said. “She was waiting in the hall when I got here. She said she had an appointment with you.”

Lynn set down her bag and fished out a planner. She opened it up and scanned the pages. “Who?” Lynn asked. Her tone was not any warmer. She looked up. Her eyes formed into steely blue slits, as they became a glare.

“Lindsay Merrit,” I replied, “My guess is that she was here for at least a half an hour.”

A look of recognition crossed Lynn’s face, and then it was gone. Lynn rolled her eyes and looked disgusted. “Yeah, whatever. I’m sure it wasn’t that important.” Lynn then entered her office and closed the door roughly behind. The wood hit the frame with a thud shaking the glass.

One word rang in my mind: Bitch!


When I checked my email around three that afternoon, I was surprised to find an email from Lindsay in my inbox. The email said:

Professor Matthews, My sisters and I are throwing a party at the Alpha Zeta house tonight. We are inviting a couple of cool professors. I was wondering if you were interested. It is a Halloween party so a costume in mandatory. Things will be going by 9:00 p.m. I hope to see you there. I’d like to show you the rest of my costume. – Lindsay

I rocked back in my chair, listening to the wood creak. My eyes fell closed as I felt air fill my lungs. The situation was so tempting. Was this an innocent invitation? Was I truly just a “cool professor?” Or was this something more? Was this the first step in a seduction?

Thought was unnecessary. There was no question; I would be going to the party. I was just a guy hanging out with a bunch of undergraduates. No harm, no foul, right? If some of them were inebriated scantily clad young women looking for a good time, that wasn’t my fault. They invited me. Fuck yeah, I was going!

I finished my work, and then spent the rest of my day preparing and resting up for the party. I resurrected a costume from years gone by, that hopefully would be ok without attracting too much attention. A previous roommate of mine had been a medical intern. A few years back I snagged some scrubs and used them as a costume. Fortunately, I had been enough of a pack rat to hold onto them. The scrubs were comfortable and came complete with a facemask and hair cap. Perfection!

A little after nine-thirty I pulled onto campus. The night was alive. Sounds of carousing and merriment bubbled up from every direction. As I got out of my car, a group of eight giggly, scantily-clad coeds walked by me in the parking lot. They were all done up to the nines and wearing clothes that would be considered indecent at any other time of the year. I leered openly, as I felt my cock expanding in my pants.

One of the women (she looked like a sexy milkmaid) noticed me staring. She cupped her hand and whispered to her friends. They all laughed together as they strolled by. The milkmaid, just as she was crossing out of the lot, bent over at the waist. She hiked up her skirt and gave me a delicious view of her panty-covered ass and crotch. In unison the group yelled, “Trick or Treat!” before they ran off, heels clicking on the pavement.

I grinned. Women all over campus were ripe and ready for a good time. Hopefully Lindsay was one of them. I just needed to locate the Alpha Zeta house to find out.

The sorority was surrounded by walls of thick, black plastic ten feet high. The idea was to keep the police from seeing into the party. The residents would be protected if they were drinking underage or taking part in any other form of impropriety. I chuckled to myself. Everyone knew what was happening behind those walls. Campus security just turned a blind eye, so the debauchery could continue.

I was greeted at the door by a beautiful woman in a suit of red rubber complete with horns and tail. A zipper snaked up her front, but was undone enough to reveal a burgeoning cleavage held in by a lacy red bra. The woman stuck a pitchfork in front of me in a mock threat. She giggled as she asked in a flirty, slightly-sauced voice, “Whoa! Wait up there. Who are you Doctor? Are you on the list?”

“Randall Matthews, M.D.” I answered. I wasn’t keen to be giving out my name, but it was clear I needed to follow protocol if I wanted to get inside.

She looked down at a clipboard and found my name. “Oh, I see you. Lindsay asked you here.” Then the she-devil giggled and moved in close. I could smell the bitter tang of alcohol on her breath. The woman’s voice became a whisper, “You’re a professor, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Naughty boy. I know who you are looking for inside. Go get her.” The she-devil lifted her pitchfork and waved me inside. I shook my head in disbelief. Then I entered the party.

It’d been a while since I had been to an undergraduate party. The place was packed. I wasn’t sure where to look first. In one room a huge throng of people was dancing to a throbbing hip hop beat. In another, an equally impressive mob was standing around chatting and sipping from red plastic cups. All around me were Halloween costumes: wanton witches, action heroes, naughty nurses, fantasy princesses, sassy sailors, and hot-ass hobos. Many of the outfits were unidentifiable. Some of the costumes were intricately planned productions while others were very sketch and obviously last minute. The party favorite seemed to be a guy who attached an honest-to-God toilet around his neck and was holding a sign that said, “Give me your shit!!!”

I prowled around for a few minutes before finding a keg. I filled a cup and took a swig. The cheap swill tasted like foamy ass, but who was I to complain. I had been an undergrad once. For them, quality beer was just an expensive pie-in-the-sky dream.

I took a second swig. Sadly, the beer in my cup was still shit. I tried to blink away the taste — and that’s when I saw her.

Lindsay was a feline vamp decked out in black. The fishnets (with seams up the back) and 5″ stilettos she was wearing, gave her a dark edge. One word could describe the pair of matching skin-tight shorts and halter: skimpy.

She was all delicious curves deserving to be licked from top to bottom. Generous handfuls of feminine flesh pushed up from the stretchy fabric molded to her chest. A fishnet top covered Lindsay’s top half, but did little to mask her assets. Her chestnut locks were pulled back tight into ponytail. Fuck, she still wore the cat ears, nose, and whiskers! Those accessories were so goddamn sexy.

A soft, curly tail had been added to the costume since this afternoon. She looked like such a naughty kitty, a Halloween dream dripping with sex. My mind was running wild. Maybe I could get her to bend over and lick my cream? Would she purr as she nibbled on my cock? Would Lindsay loose a yowling meow as I rammed my dick into her creamy cunt? I had been wishy-washy when I had walked in the door. This afternoon I had been concerned about pushing things beyond obvious lines of propriety. Now there was no debate; I wanted desperately to fuck her. I was going to do everything possible to make that dream happen.

I pulled down my scrub mask and tried to make eye contact. From across the room, Lindsay saw me. Beaming a killer, winner smile, she nodded and gave me a little finger wave. The effect was cute and bewitching.

Silently, I stood against the wall watching her, drinking in her beauty. Lindsay was talking to a tall, thin blonde in sprayed on leather pants and a corset stitched up the back. The woman was a pirate lass, complete with a red bandana and a fake sword strapped low to her waist. Her body was tight and lean, a spring set to constant tension. I chuckled to myself as I contemplated having Lindsay and her friend walk my plank.

Nova2

The conversation broke up and the women hugged. Lindsay then, looking at me, circled the room. She said hi to a couple friends and asked some frat guy dressed as Elvis to tap a keg for her. Then, walking with an exaggerated movement of her hips, Lindsay crossed over to me.

“Meow, Professor Matthews,” Lindsay said giving me a hug and a peck on the cheek. She had never gotten so close before. For the first time, I felt those scrumptious tits boring into my chest. I felt my cock twitch in my loose fitting pants. Lindsay must have felt it too, for she looked up at me surprise clear on her face. And then she smiled.

Of one thing I was sure: I would never have a better moment. I leaned down and touched Lindsay lightly on the back. Pulling her towards me, so she could feel my cock against her, expanding and throbbing through my loose-fitting scrubs, I said, “You can feel that, can’t you?” I felt her nod against my neck. I continued, “It is all yours, Lindsay. I know why you invited me and I want it too. Let’s just cut the bullshit and do what we want.”

Lindsay’s breath came deep and hard. She was trembling, trying to maintain her composure. Her voice became a small, girlish whisper, “My room is upstairs, room 218. Hang out here for now. I’ve got something I have to take care of first. But come up in forty-five minutes. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Lindsay stood on tip toes to lightly nibble on my ear. Then she melted out of my arms.

Seconds were a lifetime; minutes were an eternity. A thousand thoughts ticked by as time did an unnaturally slow minuet. I watched the connections, the relationships at play in the room. Men and women did that dance, that endless mating ritual before disappearing in search of privacy. Some were couples, others were playmates. Strangers and future friends mingled into the mix. Talking, chatting, flirting, seducing as the night passed. And I observed it all, waiting for my moment, the appointed time when I would form my own connection.

Fuck it! I was tired of waiting. With twenty minutes to spare I went looking for Lindsay’s room. At worst, I would just have to stand outside.

A few moments later I was standing in front of her door. The front was a colorful collage of pictures, quotations, and girly construction paper cut-outs. I noticed that it was open just a crack. Thinking that I would check out the situation, I pushed the door open.

Lindsay was lying back on her bed, shorts off, legs spread-eagled. She still had on her top, fishnets, and stilettos. The cat ears rested on a pillow next to her head. Lindsay’s body was taut, locked into a pre-orgasm clench. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyelids were fluttering. She was so beautiful. I couldn’t imagine anything lovelier.

Between Lindsay’s legs was the blonde woman I had seen downstairs. Her leather pants were around her ankles. A tight, toned ass, framed by a leopard print thong, was raised up to my view. A tribal tramp stamp tattoo stretched across her lower back. While I could not clearly see the connection of tongue to pussy, the blonde was bobbing her head up and down with frantic enthusiasm. One of Lindsay’s hands was on the back of the woman’s head, pressing the blonde’s face deep into her dripping honey pot.

The door creaked as it opened. Both women heard me enter the room at the same time. The moment had a slow motion cinematic feel. Lindsay’s eye lids snapped open wide. A look of surprise marked her youthful, lust-laden face. The blonde’s body tensed as she turned to face me. Despite strands of hair obscuring her face and an eye patch added for juicy Halloween flavor, I recognized the pirate’s identity for the first time: Lynn Halloway.

The three of us stared in shock. We were a triangle locked together in that single humiliating moment. Lindsay, hovering close to orgasm, legs spread in desire; Lynn on all fours lapping at her student’s splayed cunt; me gasping and shaking with debilitating surprise.

At this moment, I think I need to make an admission: I am an asshole. I am not proud of what I did next. They were underhanded, despicable, and deplorable. Rage gripped me, but that is not a proper excuse. I take full responsibility for my actions and their consequences.

I pulled out my cell phone, aimed, and took a snap shot. Then, without another word, I left.

Thirty minutes later I was at home sitting on my couch, still wearing the party scrubs. I was numb. Emotions felt bottled up within me, like there was a stopper in the way of a torrent. I wasn’t sure what I was containing within. I felt betrayed, cuckolded, mocked. But did I have any right to these emotions?

What was Lindsay to me anyway? She was a professor’s dream: a beautiful sorority girl that was willing to spread her legs for me. She was a target of my lust, a woman that I wanted to fuck. But she wasn’t mine…. Lynn had gotten there first.

But that revelation made things worse. The surprise and shock was dead. I was no longer a statue. A raging heat, an angry burning, quaked inside of my soul. My blood boiled in my veins.

That bitch! I didn’t like her, heck I couldn’t stand her. Every time I passed her in the hall I could feel her disdain. A scowl, a sneer, a haughty glance — these were the coin of her realm. Sitting in my office across the hall from her, I could feel a chill distaste coming from her direction. The sound of her voice made me shiver. Lynn was beating me in the publication race. She was probably going to steal my job. And now I would have to sit and watch as she stole a fresh coed prize right out from underneath me.

Fuck that! I was tired of this race. I wanted to end it. The bitter bile of disgust rose up within me. I needed to be done with this woman once and for all.

So I was left with the picture. It was fully incriminating; Lynn’s face was perfectly turned to the camera. She looked beautiful caught in her indiscretions, evidence smeared on her face. Lindsay, in her wanton pose, was also clearly identifiable. I had already saved the image on my computer. Now I just needed to email it out to the right people. Soon the department would know that Lynn Halloway had gone down on one of her students. Her impropriety would be the end of her. Lynn would never survive the firestorm. Her only option would be to crawl into a hole and never return again. I was shaken back to reality when I heard three knocks at my front door. Ignoring the visitor was tempting, believe me. If I answered the door, an argument and a scene would be inevitable. I had nothing to gain in this discussion. Something deep inside, though, moved me to answer the door. Maybe it was my arrogance, or perhaps a desire to see Lynn broken. Whatever the case, I got to my feet. If she wanted to bring it, I was willing to serve it back.

Of course, Lynn was on the other side, and she wasn’t looking for candy. Still dressed in her pirate costume, she stood in a classically combative pose.

Lynn was furious. If the sword at her side was real, she would have probably run me through. Instead, her leather clad hips were thrust out and cocked to one side. Lynn’s arms were folded over her chest in a locked and guarded position. She had taken off the eye patch, and those two baby blues were giving me a dark, death glare. Her mouth was a snarl of contempt.

I waited for a long moment, door open, watching Lynn silently fuming. Something was building inside of her. Finally Lynn spat, “What the SHIT?!”

I just blinked blankly. I knew better than to respond. It would be better to let her rage run this course. Besides, I wanted to control the conversation — not her.

She brushed me aside and entered my apartment. “Give it to me. Where’s your cell?”

“Why?” I asked calmly.

“Oh fuck you!” She replied, acidly. Lynn stood facing away from me, scanning my apartment as she kept talking. “Are you so asinine that you would think I would stand by helplessly? Oh please, you sexist, pretentious, megalomaniacal prick! The picture needs to be erased and I intend to delete it from your phone.”

“No,” I said simply.

“What?!” Lynn turned to face me. Her face was a grimace of disbelief and rage. “What did you say?”

“I said no,” I replied. My voice was a relaxed even tone. I couldn’t let her get under my skin.

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I could see the emotions warring inside of Lynn’s head. She wanted to flip out and attack, but she also knew she needed to get the picture. So she gulped, probably tasting bile in her throat, and said, “Matthews, I am asking you a favor. Give me that picture. You know what it would do to me. You know that it will destroy me. Give me that bit of respect.”

I thought for a second, taking in the desperation lingering in her words. Then I said, “You didn’t say please.”

Lynn rolled her eyes, barely reigning in the contempt. “Fine. Please. Give me the picture. I am asking you, Mathews. Please give me the picture.”

I walked over to my bar and poured myself two fingers of fifteen year old Glenlivet scotch (which I saved for special occasions). As I prepared my drink I could feel Lynn’s eyes on me silently watching. Waiting. I held up the tumbler, and contemplated the clear amber liquid that it contained. The liquid would feel like fire going down, but it would finish so smooth.

I raised the glass in a mock toast, and then shot the single malt down my throat. Liquid warmth coursed through my limbs, chasing away fear and cooling the anger. All I felt was cold, distant, and determined.

“No,” I answered.

Lynn’s mouth fell open in shock. She had been certain that I would drop everything and do her bidding. I would be the good boy, the meek and mild kid that would cave and give her what she wanted.

Fuck her. Perhaps, this is what I hated the most about her: that she just assumed that she would win — and that I would give up.

I filled my glass for a second time as I talked, “Lynn, I don’t like you and it’s pretty clear you don’t like me. So let’s cut the bullshit and just realize that. You’ve done me no favors. When I came here I knew that the job was going to be competitive, and I was fine with that. I was prepared to try to make the best of it with my counterpart in the department, whoever they were. I was fine with going about my business and trying to win this thing based on merit. But instead, you were a bitch – a stone, cold bitch.”

Lynn started to retort, “That isn’t fair….”

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Before I cut her off, “Shut up. It is my turn, Lynn. I tried to be nice. And all I got was a cold shoulder and a holier-than-thou stare. I tried… Lynn….” The words stopped there. I was seeing red, barely able to control myself. I needed her to leave; I wanted her to get the fuck away from me.

We stared at each other, our eyes locked. Neither of us did more than blink.

“What do you want?” Lynn said quietly. Her face was devoid of expression.

“Nothing,” I answered. “I want you to leave.”

“C’mon, there has to be more?” she asked.

“No there doesn’t.”

“Mathews, I am prepared to pay the pound of flesh,” said Lynn said haughtily, hands on her hips.

“What do you mean?”

“Obviously you want something from me. This picture is a bargaining chip. I want the picture; there must be something you want. So let’s bargain.”

I replied, “I didn’t ask you here. You came by your own choice. You seem to be the one with the motive.

“I see you looking at me….” Lynn’s voice was quiet, soft.

“What?!”

“In the hall, when I go into my office, I see you staring. What are you thinking about?”

The ground beneath me began to shift. Lynn gently traced the nape of her neck with a finger; her nails drew a tantalizing shape. She continued, “I know you are undressing me with your eyes. You want to see what is underneath my clothes.”

Another gulp of Glenlivet helped settle me. I was staring blankly, unable to process the words that were coming at me. I couldn’t react. Lynn’s presence repulsed me, but then there was this need….

Lynn stood looking at me for a long moment. She bit her lip in thought. “How about this?” she asked in a more brazen voice than I could have ever imagined. “How about I give you my ass?”

“What?”

A cold, thin-lipped smile crossed Lynn’s face. She raised a hand up behind her. Then she swiftly brought her open palm down across her leather-clad butt. A deafening crack reverberated off my apartment walls. Her smile got bigger.

“You’re joking?” I had never considered such a bargain. Faust would have been jumped at the opportunities.

Lynn walked over to the couch and bent over the back. She was facing away from me, her perfect, round posterior up in the air. The leather stretched tight over her luscious curves. Lynn wiggled her rear and repeated, “I don’t jest. I was asking — straight up – if you wanted to fuck my ass.”

“In exchange for the picture?” I inquired.

“Obviously,” she said.

“And why your ass?”

“Why the fuck not? Why do you care? Maybe after you fuck me I will get pleasure shitting you out tomorrow morning.” Lynn craned her head to face me while she was still bent over the couch. Stray strands of blonde hair fell over her face. Her voice had instantly transformed from seductive to harsh and impatient.

Lynn continued, “Matthews, I am giving you this one opportunity. You can whip out whatever is in your pants, stuff it into my ass, and then bang the shit out of me, or I can leave. Make a decision. Indecisiveness doesn’t become you.”

“Lynn….” My voice trailed off. She had one-upped me again. I had never expected the fight to go there.

And what was worse was that I couldn’t find the strength to tell her no.

“Fuck!” Lynn exclaimed in apparent frustration. “Don’t pussy out. The choice is pretty easy. One way you get to bust a nut in my ass (I know you have you’ve been staring at it all year); the other way you are going to be in for the biggest fight of your life. My back is against a fucking wall. You are forcing me into a cataclysmic altercation. Matthews, you will be taken down with me. Remember you were also at that party with all those undergraduate tricks and treats. That picture came from somewhere and I am sure it can be traced back to you.”

As more and more venom dripped from Lynn’s mouth, I couldn’t help but stare at her impressive ass. I marveled at the way it slowly, liquidly undulated against the back of my couch. With a twitch and a shake I could feel it calling to my cock. It would feel so good to take her, to slide down the pirate costume and ram my dick inside of her bowels.

“I have been fucking her for the past month, you know,” Lynn said with a twisted, curling smile. “That little twat was a tasty fuck, but you will never know. She hates you now. You took her picture too. You soiled her. You will never get a taste. So salvage your evening and take me. Cut you losses, Mathews.”

How dare she! Lynn, that sanctimonious bitch! Something dark unfurled inside of me. A desire flared red-hot. But it was like nothing I ever felt before. This was lust, pure and true, but it co-mingled with another unseen quantity. Rage? Anger? Hate? Self-loathing? I didn’t know. But I had to do this. I had no choice. My body was in slow motion, crossing the room. She was my pit, the cause of my ills and frustration. By fucking her, maybe it would all go away. Maybe I could take control of myself, by using her in this, the most impersonal of personal acts.

Placing my hands on the firm cheeks of her butt, I stood behind Lynn. “Do we have a deal?” she asked. “My ass for the picture?”

I growled as I nodded.

That wasn’t enough, though. “Say it,” Lynn demanded, pushing her butt against my crotch. My cock grew as she increased the friction. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Then yes,” I snarled. “Fucking yes!”

“Ok. Fuck me, then. Shove your cock inside of my fucking ass!” Lynn implored me.

Hesitation gone, I tugged at the waist of Lynn’s leather pants. At first they didn’t want to come down. With incremental yanks, however, the cheeks of Lynn’s magnificent ass came into view.

I stood and admired her curves for a moment. The tribal tattoo, gave me a deeper hint into Lynn’s darker side. A leopard print, t-backed thong did little to cover Lynn’s butt from my probing eyes. Still, the sheer fabric was in the way. I wanted nothing to stand between my cock and Lynn’s winking brown eye. I pushed the thong and pants down until they were bunched around her ankles. Now I was able to do as I pleased.

I spread the cheeks of her ass. The taut, wrinkled hole of her butt came into view. It looked delicious. Perhaps I should lick it? Maybe later.

For now, my cock would feel so good inside of her. Fucking this ass would be perfection.

But I couldn’t resist. The treat directly below her ass looked too scrumptious. The soft folds were moist and inviting. They were immaculately trimmed to a blonde, downy dew. I leaned down and gave Lynn’s cunt a long lick from behind. Already juicy, her twat was a sweet, sweet dream. I slashed my tongue from bottom, aiming for the tender nubbin of Lynn’s clit.

The heady, tangy flavor of heaven exploded onto my tongue. Lynn jumped. She whipped her head around, her face a discombobulated mixture of lust and fury. “Fucker,” Lynn screamed, as she jerked away. “Did I say that you could lick my cunt? Fuck you! That wasn’t part of the deal! You get one thing and that is my ass. That’s all!”

I pulled the cheeks of her ass apart and spit on her brown-eye. Next I hocked a load of spit onto my palm. I couldn’t believe this moment. I was about to take my biggest rival, my most hated enemy, up the ass. I felt nothing for her but disgust and loathing. Lynn had humiliated me beyond the breaking point. Now it was the time for her to feel that same humiliation as I speared her from the rear.

I stared at the loogie before wrapping my fingers around my shaft. Rubbing my wet hand up and down my cock I lubricated the rock-hard flesh. While I wasn’t terribly concerned about Lynn’s comfort, I did want the fuck to be a smooth slide.

I placed the tip of my cock outside Lynn’s sphincter. She drew a breath as she waited in nervous anticipation. I growled softly, “Do you want my cock? Do you want my cock in your tender ass?”

Lynn gave me a response I wasn’t expecting, “No, not really. You disgust me. But if you are going to do it, bitch, fucking do it already. Stick your fucking sanctimonious cock in my ass! I bet you can’t even fuck, you prick.”

Lynn’s eyes twinkled devilishly. She knew that she was stepping over the line. She knew that she was daring me on and that there could only be one reaction. I smiled. She had just communicated everything. Lynn wanted this. She wanted to be fucked, but the hate was too tantalizing. A grudge fuck was what she desired. A grudge fuck was what she was going to get.

I held Lynn tight around her slender waist. The balls of my fingers dug into her supple skin. I closed my eyes and took a breath. Feeling centered, I thrust my hips forward. Slowly but forcefully, I pushed my cock into Lynn’s ass. Resistance met my forward momentum.

“Fuck! That shit is tight,” I exclaimed, trying to push in deeper.

Through a grimace, Lynn breathed, “I know it is, you perv.”

The tunnel of Lynn’s ass was gripping me so fucking close. A wave of sensation fell over me. My body shuddered uncontrollably as I wallowed in the constricting pleasure of Lynn’s ass. I pushed again, this time driving deeper. Lynn and I both groaned as the bulbous head of my cock popped past the ring of her sphincter.

Lynn’s body tightened as I drove into her for the third time. I was beginning to develop a rhythm. The warm sheath of her ass felt so snug around the throbbing shaft of my cock.

Each thrust took me deeper inside of Lynn; each movement brought us closer to being joined. We were rocking back and forth, grunting and groaning in a guttural passion.

Lynn craned her neck to face me. She brushed away the blonde hair that had fallen over her eyes and said, “You fucking pussy!” Her words passed through her gnashed teeth, giving her voice a raw, feral tone. “Throw your back into it. Can’t you come up with more than that? You’ve been waiting for this since August. Is that all the photograph is to you?”

Until that moment, I had been playing nice. I hadn’t wanted to push too deep or too hard. But that changed. This bitch had the nerve to complain about how I was fucking her? Screw her! No more pity! She would be a limp subservient rag when I was done assaulting her ass. I flexed my arms and pulled Lynn back on my waiting dick. My pole slid further into her butt. I was now most of the way in – time to pick up some speed.

The next thrust was fast and deep. “Is that how you like it? You might like pussy but you also need the cock too, don’t you?” I yelled as I smacked Lynn’s sweaty ass. The sharp, wet, thwacking sound was followed by another. I looked down and saw a red mark where my hand impacted with her flesh. “You crave it, don’t you? You slut? You whore? You fucking whore!”

“Oh fuck…” was Lynn’s reply. My new pace had thrown her off-guard. Her mouth moved several times, as if she was about to speak. Each time her lips parted, however, the sound fell into a wail. Tears ringed around her eyes. A shiny sheen of sweat pooled at the small of her back. As my cock continued to tear into her, Lynn somehow managed to locate the words, “Good boy…. Yes, give that fucking cock. C’mon, don’t be a pussy. Give it to me… ohhhhh, fuck my ass.”

My throbbing cock was now pummeling Lynn’s bunghole. The heat was intoxicating. Clearly, the friction in her butt was getting the best of her. She moaned with every thrust, whipping her hair from side to side. One of Lynn’s hands had now moved underneath her body. From the jerking motions, I could tell that Lynn was feverishly strumming her pussy.

Moving quickly, I grabbed Lynn by the forearm. With sudden and deliberate force, I yanked her hand away from her aching pussy.

Lynn whined the word, “Nooooooo…” as she tried to pull her hand free of my grasp.

Banging my cock into her ass, I demanded, “No way. Not until you tell me what you are.”

Between gasps, Lynn asked, “What I am?” She sounded genuinely confused, as she feebly tried to pull her arm free.

I paused and then said, “You are a whore.” I punctuated each word with a thrust of my hips. “Say it.”

Lynn looked at me. She was biting her lips, trying to stand strong. But then I slammed into her again three times in staccato succession. Lynn’s body writhed, as raw sensation ripped through her helpless flesh. Her mouth went wide in a high, keening wail, “I AM A FUCKING WHORE!!!!”

I released her arm. In a devastating blur, Lynn went to work on her pussy. Within seconds, she was wailing again, “Ohhhhhhh yesssss… you bastard…. God, yeah…. FUCK YOU!!!!” A warm spray of pussy juice shot from her cunt. Lynn’s liquid arousal bathed my balls. Her ass contracted wickedly, squeezing my cock with a vice grip.

I withdrew my cock from Lynn’s ass as she settled down from her orgasm. She stared at me, trying in vain to find words. The sensation of the cum wiped her mind clean — back to a blank slate.

I grabbed Lynn around the waist and flipped her over. She tumbled over the couch and landed flat on her back. I walked around to the other side and yanked her pants and thong completely off. I knelt on the floor and lined my cock up once again with her ass. The “O” ring of her butt was wide and loose. This time I would slide in easily.

Again, I spit on my cock lubricating my skin. Then I rammed myself home. This time I buried my dick balls deep with a single thrust. Skin slapped on skin with a sharp, wet thwack. Lynn squealed in shock as I slammed her with my meat. I pulled her legs up over my shoulders. I wanted to do this deep and hard. I had to use every bit of force that I could muster.

Lynn’s eyes flashed with an electric excitement. I leaned down, bending her legs further backward. My chest touched against the leather of her corset. Our faces were inches apart. Her breath felt warm on my face. The faint scent of alcohol mixed with the aroma of her arousal. A raw intensity crackled between us as we bucked and thrust against each other.

Lynn’s mouth broke into a massive grin. I squinted quizzically. Then she spit at me, before grinning again. \ That bitch! I roared and switched into overdrive. I pushed my hips as hard I could. Saliva dribbled down my face as I jack-hammered into Lynn’s lean body. Oh fuck, this was too good! We were animals dripping in sweat, spit, and cum. The feral beast was in control of our movements. Fuck, slam, fuck!

The pace was too much; the friction was too hot. My breath was ragged, as I pounded Lynn’s ass. I was close. “I’m gonna cum,” I moaned.

“You bastard! Noooooo,” Lynn groaned.

“What?” I replied, the hazy cloud of lust almost fully descended.

“In my mouth.” Lynn demanded. Her eyes were alive with need. “Pull your cock out of my ass and put it in my mouth. I want to taste my ass. I need to drink your cum.”

There was no time to argue. Every second was precious. I immediately withdrew my cock from Lynn’s ass. It slid free with an obscene “sploop” sound. Like a mad woman, Lynn whirled around and dropped to her knees. Gripping my shaft firmly in her left hand she rubbed it all over her face. Sweat and make-up smeared, making Lynn appear like a lewd raccoon. She picked my scrub pants off the floor and wiped down my cock. Then, with a wicked grin, she popped my cock into her mouth.

I put both of my hands on either side of Lynn’s head and started fucking her face. Wet gurgling sounds rose up from her throat. I could see tears forming at her eyes, but I didn’t care. Instead, I just buried her hands in her hair and drove her back and forth mercilessly. This was a BJ — a pure skull fuck – without subtlety or art. All that existed was rhythm and desire. To ease my passage, she reached up and pulled her cheeks wide with her fingers. She was a hole, a fucking hole for my cock.

I couldn’t take any more. Seeing Lynn kneeling, taking my dick deep made me lose my nut. A rope of cum, followed by a second and third, shot from my dick. My knees buckled as I trembled in orgasm.

For a long moment I stood there, my cock between Lynn’s lips. Her tongue swirled softly caressing the head and glands. Panting and gasping, the two of us came down in silence. Eventually, Lynn released my dick and stood back up. She pulled up her thong and leather pants. Shaking her head in semi-disbelief, Lynn looked at me. A slight smile crept onto her face.

“We still have our agreement?” she asked, as she wiped her hand across her mouth.

I just nodded.

“Good,” she replied. She stood in front of the hallway mirror and straightened her clothes. Lynn smiled at herself in the mirror. Her expression was odd and crooked, a tightrope walk between self-satisfaction and disgust. Tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind her right ear, Lynn said, “You know I can’t fucking stand you, right?”

I smiled and fell back naked on to the couch. The fabric was wet with our juices. Lynn’s saliva still dribbled from my cock and balls. For a moment I weighed my words. Then I responded, “Absolutely, Lynn. The feeling is mutual.”

Lynn turned to face me. I might not like her, but she was still one sexy bitch. Lynn nodded and said, “I know.” Lynn opened my door and then stepped outside. She briskly turned around again, her face breaking into a full-on grin. “That makes the fuck so much better. I can’t wait until next time.”

And then she closed the door.

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Hate Fuck on Halloween

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