The night was unseasonably warm for October, the kind of evening that made you question whether you really needed that extra layer. The moon was a waxing crescent, a sly smile in the inky sky, as the first stars began to pop like distant fireworks. It was the kind of night that whispered promises of fun and mischief to any child with the energy to stay up late.
"Mom, can we have a little Halloween party?" her son, Timmy, had asked earlier that day, his blue eyes hopeful. His blonde hair had been sticking up in the back, a result of his latest wrestling match with the bedcovers. She had looked at him, her heart melting at his excitement. "Just three or four friends," he'd added quickly, as if the small number would make all the difference in the world.
"Sure, sweetheart," she'd said, ruffling his hair. "But only if you promise to keep it small."
Timmy had beamed, and she knew she'd made the right decision. She had to work late tonight, anyway. It'd be good for him to have some fun with his friends.
Now, she was at her own party, feeling a little out of place amidst the laughter and chatter of the other parents. They were all dressed in their Halloween finest, while she'd thrown on a Wonder Woman costume she'd found at the last minute. It was a bit snug, the top a little too small and the miniskirt a little too short, but she'd figured it was all in good fun. Plus, it made her feel a bit more youthful, a bit more... invincible, even though the only battle she was fighting these days was the one against her ever-expanding to-do list.
As the party droned on, the same stories being told and the same drinks being refilled, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy for the life her son had ahead of him. No responsibilities, no deadlines, just the excitement of the spookiest night of the year. She took a sip of her wine and decided that maybe, just for a little while, she could indulge in a bit of that excitement too. After all, she was still young, wasn't she? She checked her phone, noted the time, and realized she could swing by home, check on the kids, and still make it back before anyone noticed she'd left.
The house was eerily quiet when she returned. The lights were off in the living room and the TV was muted. The only sound was the faint thump of bass coming from Timmy's room. She chuckled to herself, imagining the little monsters having a dance party. She kicked off her heels and tiptoed upstairs, the cool floor sending shivers up her legs.
But when she opened the door to his room, she didn't find the party she'd expected. Instead, she was met with the shocked faces of four teenage boys, all staring at her in her costume. There was a moment of awkward silence, and then one of them spoke up.
"Oh, wow," he said, his eyes wide. "You must be the... entertainment?"
Her heart skipped a beat. The room swam in front of her. Had they...? No, they couldn't have. But the way they were looking at her, the way they were smiling, it was clear they had. They had mistaken her for a stripper.
And she, feeling a bit tipsy from the party, and maybe just a bit adventurous, decided to play along.
"Well, I'm here to save the party, aren't I?" she said, her voice a little shaky. The boys, noticing her unsteady stance, took it as part of the act. They whooped and hollered, their eyes gleaming in the dim light.
One of them, the tallest, with a lopsided grin, handed her a bottle of water. "Here, you must be thirsty after your... uh, performance," he said, his voice thick with innuendo.
She took a deep breath, the cool liquid sliding down her throat, and set the bottle on the dresser. "Alright, boys," she began, her voice stronger now, "let's get this show on the road."
The music grew louder as she began to move. The bass thumped in her chest, a pulse that seemed to echo the racing of her heart. The costume felt even more revealing now, but she ignored it, letting the rhythm guide her movements. She'd always been a good dancer, and the wine had loosened her inhibitions just enough to make her feel like she could pull this off.
The boys cheered her on, tossing candy and fake bills into the air, which she deftly caught in her hands. She twirled and spun, letting her hair fall over her face as she pretended to remove her costume piece by piece. The room was hot, the air thick with the smell of teenage hormones and the faint scent of burnt popcorn. She danced until the music stopped, until the applause grew deafening.
And then, just as she was about to leave, the music started up again, a slow, sultry beat that made her pause. The boys were begging for an encore, their faces flushed with excitement. She looked at them, her own son's friends, and felt a strange thrill. Was this what it felt like to be desired again? To be the center of attention?
Her movements grew bolder, her hips swaying to the rhythm as she stepped closer to the makeshift stage Timmy had set up for the party. She could feel their eyes on her, drinking her in, and she reveled in it. The room spun a little, the edges going soft as the alcohol hit her harder. Her costume felt less like a disguise and more like a second skin, one that made her feel powerful and seductive..
The music built up to a crescendo, and she allowed the invisible strings of the beat to pull her into a dramatic finale. She twirled one last time, her cape flying out around her, and then with a flourish, she dropped to the floor, her legs spread in a pose that was more gymnast than superhero. The room erupted in cheers, and for a moment, she felt like she could do anything.
Her eyes fell on the glinting object on the table beside her - a string of anal beads, obviously part of some forgotten prank. She smirked to herself. Why not? She thought, picking them up with a flourish. She began to undo the clasp of her costume, the boys' eyes widening as they realized she was going further than they'd ever dared hope.
The costume fell away, piece by piece, until she was standing before them in nothing but her lingerie. The beads were cold in her hand, a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. With a wink, she bent over, giving them a show as she slid them into her ass one by one. The cheers grew louder, the excitement in the room palpable. She knew she was pushing boundaries, but she was too caught up in the moment to care.
As she stood, she spotted a volunteer, a boy with shaggy hair and a look of pure lust on his face. He looked like he could use a little extra thrill for the night. "You," she said, pointing at him. He stumbled over, his friends slapping him on the back in congratulations.
With a knowing smile, she turned around and straddled his legs, grinding her ass against his crotch. He was already hard, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. She leaned back, her breasts pressing into his chest as she began to move her body to the music. His hands found her hips, holding her in place as he started to mimic the motions of sex, fucking her through her clothes.
The pressure of his cock against her ass was intense, sending waves of pleasure through her. She moaned, the sound lost in the cacophony of the party. The beads inside her shifted with every movement, the sensation bordering on overwhelming. The room was spinning now, the lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color. She didn't know where this was going, but she knew she didn't want it to stop.