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Hot Girls Love Masks
by B. Shytle
I've been watching her for months, and tonight is finally the night. I slip on my red devil mask and step out of the car.
She doesn't know what is coming. She doesn't know exactly what I'm capable of. But it doesn't matter. She's mine. She's been mine since the first day I laid eyes on her.
It’s pitch dark out except for the front porch light illuminating the path to the front door. There's no telling who else is inside with her. But I find myself not caring.
I don't waste my time going for the front door. She locks it up exactly at 10:15 every night. She puts her dog in the kennel at 10:25. She takes her shower at 10:30, washes her face, brushes her teeth, and gets dressed in the pajamas that I love to see her in.
Most nights, I'm watching from the window. She doesn't know I'm there. Although I'm sure she's seen my mask a time or two.
She makes sure to close her blinds and have everything locked up tight.
But it never stops me. As soon as her breathing gets heavy and she rolls onto her stomach, I pick her window’s lock and slip inside. I sit and watch from her corner chair. That's all I do. I don't touch. I don't get closer. I won't do anything until she begs me to. And tonight will be that night.
I watch, as always. Then, when the time is right, I push against the window, and this time it opens willingly.
For a moment, I just stare at it. She left it unlocked tonight.
I push it the rest of the way up, stick one leg inside, and gauge her movement before fully committing.
She always locks the window… it never fails. Why is tonight different?
The hallway light slips under the crack of her door, casting a soft glow into the room. The dog doesn’t make a sound from the living room as I step toward my chair. It became mine months ago. She keeps it cleaned off like she knows I come to sit in it. It’s like my throne.
I sit. The sound of her breathing fills the space until it's the only thing making a noise. Every breath. Every sigh. Every single movement is mine.
“I know you’re there,” she murmurs from the bed, and I startle. I thought she was asleep.
“Can you feel me, Everly?” I shift in my seat, letting my foot fall to the floor.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Surely she does. What woman in their right mind would want me to stay and watch her sleep?
“No,” Her voice is just above a whisper, as if by saying it with her full chest, she might change her mind. She’s full of surprises.
“Tell me what you want.” I need to hear her voice. I need to hear her call to me. To beg me to get closer.
She shifts in the bed to a sitting position and looks at me through the dark. I don’t know if she can fully see me, but I know she knows where I am. But she stays quiet. So I push her again. “Tell me, sweet angel.”
She presses her palm into the sheets next to her and taps it once. “I want you to come closer.” Her words portray exactly what she wants, but there’s still a hesitation in her voice.
I rise, making no sound as I step closer to her bed.
She doesn’t know what she’s truly asking of me.
But she will soon. I slip off my shoes. The bed dips as I press one knee onto the mattress, and when I fully sit next to her, she lets out a sigh of relief.
This does something to me. It’s like she didn’t think I would listen.
Like, I didn’t want to be this close to her.
But all I’ve dreamed about for the past few months is touching her.
Letting my fingers trail along her skin.
Sinking myself so deep in her, I don’t know where I end, and she begins.
Full of surprises, she reaches for me first. Her fingers run along the top of my hand that I’ve placed on the bed next to her thigh. She grips me, testing to see if I’m real. She follows the trail higher up my arm, letting them glide along my sleeve until she reaches my mask.
I inhale sharply, but don’t fight her when she slips them underneath and pushes it up my face. I let her feel my stubble, running her fingers along my jaw to my mouth, then to my neck.
When she leans toward her lamp, I freeze, my heart pounding in my ears.
Will my real face scare her? Will she recoil from me?
I hold my breath as the light comes on, waiting for the fallout, waiting for the subtle shift away from me.
But when her eyes meet mine, she doesn’t move for a moment, just stares.
I watch as she chews on the side of her cheek, a soft smile forming on her lips as her eyes light up.
Then she does something unexpected. She scoots closer to me.
It’s a tiny amount, but I don’t miss the way she leans toward me instead of pulling away.
She reaches for me again, and this time when she touches my face, I close my eyes, holding my breath as I wait for her judgment. She’s touching the real me. She sees the real me and still stays close.
She runs her fingers along the scar that goes from the top of my forehead down to my chin. “What happened?”
I lick my lips as I swallow the lump in my throat. “My father’s knife.”
“Oh.” The gasp falls from her lips as her hand drops to my chest, pushing my back against the headboard.
This is it. This is where she pulls away.
My eyes widen as I watch her swing one leg over mine to straddle me.
Her breasts hang low beneath her pajama top, perfectly plump and mouth-watering.
She runs her fingers through my hair before leaning over me and grabbing my mask, placing it on her face.
Her hips shift along mine, grinding into me so deliciously, and I have to hold back a whimper. But I don’t dare touch her. Not yet. Not until she asks me to.
She grabs both my palms and presses them against her bare hips as she shifts forward, rolling them against me as she presses her breasts toward my face. “Touch me, devil.”
It comes out as a mumble behind my mask, and I can’t help but smirk. She’s the devil tonight. I’m just a man at her mercy. “Where?” I growl, my voice coming out as a raspy mess.
She grinds against me again, this time harder than the last, and a moan escapes her lips. “Everywhere.”
My hands tremble as I trail one up her side toward her neck, brushing past her nipples with my thumb.
Then I grip her neck tightly and pull her toward me.
She gasps as I slip the mask up and pull her lips down to me.
“Mine,” I growl before fully pressing my mouth to hers.
She melts and opens for me, wrapping her hands around my neck and shoving her fingers into my hair.
Her grip tightens as our kiss deepens with every stroke.
I slide my free hand up her thigh to press between her legs. I can feel how wet she is through the thin fabric. “Mmm,” I hum against her lips. She is perfect. So fucking perfect.
I slip beneath the fabric, moving her panties out of the way so I can sink my fingers inside her. Her cum coats my skin as soon as I touch her. She’s soaked. She shudders above me as she tugs my hair.
She breaks away, “More,” she says breathlessly as she grinds down onto my hand.
“I need more.” Any hesitation she felt is gone as she tugs at my shirt, at anything she can grasp onto, attempting to undress me.
I lean forward, letting her pull the shirt over my head.
She tosses it onto the floor in a heap and freezes as she stares down at my bare chest while my fingers are still inside her.
As if she’s suddenly aware of just how fucked up I am.
My skin is marred with deep gashes, deeper than the one on my face, and cigarette burns litter my skin in gross patches, courtesy of my father.
I tighten my grip on her throat and force her attention back to my eyes. “I’m a monster. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Her eyes widen as she moves slightly against my hand.
“You’re. Not. A. Monster.” She pushes out every word separately, moving against me before she leans down and presses her lips to mine, fully grinding onto my fingers.
She reaches between us and unbuttons my jeans, pushing them out of her way to get my cock free.
She doesn’t have to ask for permission to take what she wants from me. I am hers as much as she is mine.
“Fuck,” I groan as she lowers herself; every inch is pure bliss. She’s better than I expected. Her walls suck me in, wanting every single piece of me inside of her. I thrust upward, letting myself seat fully inside of her.
She stills. Relishing in the feel of us together before she begins to move. Slowly, she rises until she reaches the tip, then she slams back down with a moan.
I shudder. Forcing the whimper threatening to come out, back down my throat.
I refuse to be unmanned by this woman. I shift further into the bed to give her more leverage before meeting her thrust for thrust. The only sound in the room is the noise of our flesh meeting one another in a perfect rhythm.
Her movements become staggered as her walls tighten around me, making it hard to move.
When she cries out, her nails dig into my chest as she climaxes.
But I’m not done with her. I flip us, her back bouncing off the bed as I press inside her again.
She wraps her legs around my waist as I thrust hard inside.
The mask falls off her head as I press her into the pillow, forcing my entire weight onto her body to hold her in place.
I look into her eyes as I fuck her. I want to watch the moment she falls apart for me for a second time. She holds my gaze. “You’re perfect.” I grit through my teeth. “Fucking perfect.”
I pick up my pace. The sound of my balls slapping her ass echoes around the room so loudly that her dog in the living room begins to bark. But I don’t let that deter me. I’m close. So fucking close, and I want her to have every piece of me.
Soon, my legs begin to shudder with every thrust as the pleasure rakes down my spine. “Come with me, my sweet angel. I want to feel you.” I moan as my climax nearly takes over.
She locks her legs around me, forcing my thrusts to become shorter and shorter until all I can feel is her tightening. And I fall. Hard. Pleasure blooms as I press all the way inside of her and fill her. “Ah, fuck.” I grip her shoulder tightly.
She cries out, clawing at my skin once more before her body relaxes beneath me.
Once my cock stops twitching, I pull out of her and flop to the side of her, pulling her against me.
She snuggles closer to me, wrapping her leg around mine and draping her arm across my stomach.
We lay there in a comfortable silence. Our breathing matching one another’s until she clears her throat.
“Does this mean you’re done with me now?
” There’s a tremble in her voice that breaks my heart.
I tilt her chin toward me so I can look into her eyes. “What do you mean?”
Her brow furrows. “Isn’t this what you came for? To fuck me and leave?”
I growl, a low hum in my chest, before pressing my lips to her forehead. “I came here to make you mine, and that’s exactly what you are going to be. I won’t ever be done with you.”
She rests her head back on my chest and pulls me tighter against her. “Promise?”
“Do I need to show you again that you’re mine?”
She nods with a wicked grin. “But this time, wear your mask.”