2. Chapter 2
It actually took weeks of planning to break into Grace's house, around classes and practise, I kept coming up against hurdles.
I thought about just getting in contact with one of her house mates to let me in when she was in her room, but I felt mortified at one of them knowing what we were doing, or seeing me in the mask.
That was another obstacle; buying the mask.
You'd think with it being Halloween the following month, finding a mask would be easy.
That wasn't the case and when I did come across an adult sized mask of any sort, they didn't feel like me.
I question her sanity sometimes that she's chosen me to do this with.
What sane man can't choose a basic mask for kinky sex, because none had a comforting presence about them.
I want her to trust me while we do this, not be looking up into the fabric eyes of Frankenstein or a fucking werewolf.
There were some red melted demon masks and I cut my losses there, instead finding an Etsy seller who sells custom pieces.
It was sleek, black with neon purple lights over the mouth and stitched eyes.
I chose the colour because lilac is soft and soothing, right? Nothing threatening about it.
I stopped at their place on my way home after practice to scope out the back garden.
My next obstacle was making sure no neighbours saw me, because her house mates weren't going to call the police, but little old Iris next door might. Luckily their garden is surrounded by ferns and there’s a tall oak in front of her ground floor room, so once I get over the fence I'll have the privacy to do what I need.
I asked if she'd leave the window open for me but apparently that would be too easy, so I hunted the internet for ways to open a window without breaking it.
I swear if I did get arrested, my search history could condemn me alone.
Ground-work completed, the next time I hung out with Grace I excused myself to the bathroom, taking a detour around the house.
Checking if any of the other windows could be kept open without putting them in danger.
I don’t think I could forgive myself if an actual criminal broke into their home.
One of the kitchen windows was a little old and seemed ideal if I left it unlatched.
She’d been none the wiser, but once we settled back into watching a film, I worried if maybe she thought I’d been a long time because I was taking a shit.
God, kill me now.
I decided that Friday night was perfect.
Grace would be done for the week so she wouldn’t be up late cramming for an essay, and I could take her out for breakfast the next morning to make sure she was happy with what we did.
She’d seemed pretty excited and fully on board with spicing things up, but considering our sex life was actually pretty vanilla in the couple of months we’d been dating, I wanted to make sure it lived up to her fantasy.
The idea of wearing a mask actually excited me too, so if it exceeded her expectations, it could hopefully be a recurrence.
When I agreed to do this, I hadn't actually thought about what we would do once the mask was on. She’d asked me to break into her house, but what then?
I assumed she’d already be in her room, so along with finding a mask, planning my route in, I actually went on Reddit and found spoilers for some of the books on her shelves.
I specifically wanted information on the spicier chapters, regretting it instantly when reading some of the absolute unhinged reviews and posts.
Eventually getting the knowledge I wanted, it was time to do another google search on what the hell was edging—it sounded fucking painful.
Grace was so tiny and delicate, I didn’t feel comfortable doing anything like that.
Settling on some tamer options, I had a plan.
Really, it just involved a lot more foreplay and then we could try some new positions.
We’d had sex a couple of times and it was nice.
Nothing ground breaking, but like my affections towards her in general, I thought it would get better the more we got to know each other.
I wouldn’t speak to give her a little thrill, but at any point she could take the mask off. She’d like that, hopefully sated with a couple of orgasms and then we could sleep. In the morning I’d treat her to breakfast at her favourite cafe.
Fool proof plan, kinky sex here we come.
Pulling at the strings on my hoodie, I keep the September chill off my skin as I make my way down the path behind the back of Grace’s garden.
There’s a long biking lane that leads from this side of the city into the center, safely lit by street lights and the easiest route for me to take so that I’m not seen scaling her fence.
The sun has faded, taking the heat with it, leaving a burnt orange and coral sky, sinking into an inky blue.
I love this time of year, especially when I feel the slight pinch of a chill in the breeze, sweeping leaves across the ground.
It means spiced coffee, Gilmore Girls with the boys and honestly, give me everything pumpkin flavoured my way.
Last October the guys on our rugby team hosted a bake off for charity and I swear I could have bled cinnamon by the end of it.
The guys are far from the sports stereotype, making me proud to be part of our university team.
We hold mental health nights at the club a couple times every month, regularly getting involved with events to raise money in the city and Harris bakes better than my own Nan.
Reaching the point where the path meets the girl's fence, I try my hardest to give it a quiet test wobble, before gripping the top of the wood and hauling myself over in one swift motion. Thankfully there's a gap in the ferns that I slot between on my landing, my converse meeting grass and I’m already bending down to dig through the contents of my bag. I don’t want to be fumbling with the mask when I get in the house in case someone hears, so I pull the weighted plastic out but keep the neons off until I’ve checked all the girls are asleep.
Grace is smart so she’ll no doubt have her curtains drawn, but in the excitement of not knowing when I planned to do this, she’d been leaving them open a sliver so I could check she was in bed.
Creepy in other circumstances, but I was her boyfriend.
I wasn’t going to be standing out there, watching her without her consent.
I’d ask her to keep them closed again once we’d done this.
Making sure the mask is secure to my face, I slip what I need into my pockets so I don’t need to reach for the bag, and make my way up the garden towards the house. The lights are all off, so either all three of them are asleep or out. Fuck. I didn’t know if Grace was even in tonight.
I had planned to go in straight through the kitchen to decrease the risk of being seen, but if she wasn’t even in her bedroom this could all be for nothing.
Changing my footing, I creep round the right side of the house, planning to look through her window first, but I quickly see my entire plan wisp away in a cloud of smoke, because a tall hooded figure is already standing there.
“Who the hell are you?” I spit, unamused and quickly accessing the situation for danger, because like myself, the guy is wearing a fucking mask. A ghostface mask.
Jesus, why didn’t I think of that?
My brain tells my body to act first and ask questions later.
Crossing the distance, I barrelled into him.
Hands grasping his thighs, I bend low and spring up, pulling his feet from underneath him and surprisingly he’s incredibly light for his height.
He has a good couple of inches on me and I’m over six feet tall.
I wasn't the biggest or stockiest of the guys on the team, but I worked out every day and also ran a couple of times a week.
I had muscle and obvious thighs of steel, but this guy felt lean, strong but light as a feather.
He lets out a gasp behind the mask as I take him off the ground, slamming my weight into him as we both land down hard and I scramble on top.
Wedging my knee onto his chest, I raise my fist ready to lash out if he tries anything first. I'd never been in a fight, but scrapping during rugby happened my entire life growing up, so I could hold my own.
“What are you doing outside my girl's window?” I ask, not wanting to give him her name in case he was some weird stalker. Oh fuck, what if he planned to hurt her? What if I wasn't the only guy she asked to wear a mask and surprise her? We were definitely exclusive, I think…
Whoever is behind the ghostface mask just remains silent under me, arms flat against the ground and I lift my knee feeling bad about the pressure.
The black material from the mask hides his hair and I can’t tell anything from what he is wearing.
I’m pretty sure it is a guy though, only because of his lean frame and how I can feel his toned chest. Like me, he’s wearing a black hoodie, black jeans, but boots.
I don’t see any tattoos and his hands look soft; a weird thing for me to notice, but his fingers are long too.
He has pale skin. I have dark tattoos covering most of my body, but the sliver of stomach that's showing is empty.
His silence is starting to piss me off. I only worry he could have a weapon a little too late when I grab the front of his hoodie, kneeling back as I lift him from the ground and pull him up to face me.
“Fucking answer me,” I grit. “Who the hell are you? I swear to god if you were even thinking of hurting her–” I’m cut off as ghostface pushes me back, my words seeming to cause some reaction because he finally starts to fight back.
It's my turn to be stunned, because despite the muscle advantage I clearly have over this guy, he grabs me this time by the collar and hauls me up against the tree.
Swearing, I try to thrash out of his grip but he presses his full body into me, meaning the more I move, the more I end up thrusting against him.
Our pelvic bones press into each other and dear god, please tell me he has something in his pocket because I feel it firmly against my lower stomach.
“Stop that.” His voice is low and rumbly behind the mask.
My entire body freezes as his words coat my skin and make me shiver.
He presses himself against me again but this time I move with him, leaning back into the tree and essentially letting him pin me to it.
I'm literally wedged between a tree and a hard place–the hard place being his dick, that I can feel through his jeans, pressing into my own. Fucking baby Jesus.
What the hell am I doing? I should push him off, kick out and hope I can overpower him again, but the feeling of his heavy body paralyses me. My brain normally combusts when I grapple with not being a total loser in front of Grace, this is the opposite.
I feel so alive.
I feel everything.
What is happening?
My skin prickles against my own clothes and I feel hyper sensitive.
The pollen from the garden clouds my senses with the night air, but also the stranger wears a spiced cologne.
If we didn’t have the masks on, our noses would be touching.
His chest rags in deep breaths and I watch it rise and fall, realising whilst one of his hands presses against my chest where he grips at my hoodie, my own arms are rod straight by my side.
For fuck sake, I'm not even fighting to get away.
My pulse throbs in my neck and I swear I can hear it.
Slowly raising both hands, the ghostface shakes me, and the bark digs into my shoulder blades.
Almost to tell me to stop moving, he pulls me forward and slams me back in a quick burst movement.
I brace for the back of my head to hurt, but no pain follows, making me realise the fucker has his other hand positioned behind my head.
Did he put it there so I wouldn't hurt myself?
He rocks into me again and I swear my brain goes static, heat creeping up my neck and there's a ringing in my ears.
His breathing is still choppy but mine is too.
I grind my lower half into him not feeling fully in control of my own body and I hear a little gasp escape behind his mask.
Oh fuck. My dick must really like that noise because quicker than I've ever experienced, I'm painfully hard and so incredibly sensitive.
It feels like he's all over me. My penis has clearly forgotten that we're straight, because I already start to feel tingles dangerously low in my spine.
This masked stranger is everywhere, and that suddenly annoys me because he was watching Grace.
Coming to my senses, I finally use my hands and push at his chest, getting him to take a step away from me. The air between us is cold, causing more shivers with this feeling of loss, but it’s enough for me to shake myself fucking awake. I’m pissed off and colder than before.
“Who the hell are you? I swear if you ever come to this house again, even the police won't be able to save you from what I'll do to you.” I think of my girlfriend excitedly waiting for me to slip into her room, believing ghostface to be me, until it's far too late.
I can't think of the rest, it makes me feel sick.
Pushing the guy again, I step away from the tree, but suddenly her bedroom lamp flicks on, flooding us both and the side of the house with orange light. The white of his mask gleams, which is the last thing I see because he wastes no time breaking away, running through the open garden gate.
I'd fucking climbed the fence and he'd just come through the gate? Unbelievable.
The curtain flutters before being ripped open, revealing a sleepy eyed Grace in her bunny print pajamas and creamy curls falling over her shoulders.
She grins at me, but then pouts. “Damn it, I ruined the surprise! You'll have to try another night.”