Kinktober2023 Day 31: Halloween Party
The Monster Mash
for Kinktober2023 by Annika Sage Ellis
contains: drunk/high sex, semi-public sex, anal sex, fingering, strap-on, cis/trans, angel/demon
Pride staggered through the crowd of the house party, a plastic cup in one hand, a joint in the other, and tried to remember where he was going. Hordes of dressed-up attendees laughed, drank, and whatever else, dissolving into a slurry before his eyes.
Thumping electronic remixes of corny Halloween classics blasted his eardrums, despite the DJ’s table being several rooms away. Abandoned costume props littered the chairs and tables, themselves covered in individually wrapped candy pieces, bottles and cups of alcohol, and weed. Someone must have been handing it out. Pride wasn’t fully sure where he’d gotten the joint in his hand, but it was good shit, so it couldn’t be that sketchy.
Someone bumped into him, and he staggered, halo headband bouncing all around on its spring. Or, rather, they brushed past the costume wings strapped to his back, which was enough to make his world tilt. He was too crossfaded to chew them out, or see where they went, so he ignored it. He took another pull off the joint, and had to stand still for a few seconds. Fuck, his feet hurt.
Pride’s hilarious and incredible idea to dress up as a sexy angel for this party was still hilarious and incredible. But the heels weren’t doing him any favors, his butt was cold, and he’d lost one of his gloves. He needed to find it before the Slutty Costume Contest started, so he and Justice could—oh yeah, he was going to find Justice! Duh.
“If I were a Justice,” he mumbled to himself, “where would I go?”
Trying to think about it was too hard. Pride walked in as straight a line as he could manage. He spied the back door leading out to the pool, flashy lights, and even more people. Maybe some fresh air and less music would help his brain work better.
It turned out to be a lucky assumption. Justice was outside in a plastic chair, face down on an end table, plastic cup knocked onto the cobblestone porch. His ill-fitting devil costume—another of Pride’s impeccable suggestions—was nothing more than a red bodysuit with a floppy tail and a headband with two little plastic horns. Not very creative, but it shone like a beacon to Pride’s woozy vision. He trotted over with enthusiasm.
“Hiii, Justice,” he sang.
Justice shot up, blinking out of a stupor. “Wha—?”
Pride hunched over until they were nose to nose. “I said hiiiii.”
“Oh, Pride!” He stretched his arms out for a hug. “Hello, hi.”
In return, Pride slid into his lap, sloshing his drink and trying not to smash his joint against the chair. Justice giggled and pulled him in closer, jostling his wings all over the place. He didn’t care, happy to be back in his arms. Plus, the too-small costume left so very little to the imagination.
“Whatcha doin’?” Justice mumbled into his shoulder.
“Looking for you,” Pride said, leaning back to look him in the face—sort of. “We gotta be in that contest.”
“When is it?”
“Umm.” He downed the rest of his cup and threw it aside. “Don’t r’member.”
“Oh. So now what?”
Pride bounced his shoulders in a shrug. “Dunno.”
The conversation stalled. Smiling dimly, Justice reached up to flick the halo on his head. It bounced merrily back and forth. Pride wiggled his head to keep it up, and Justice giggled some more. His hands wandered from the headband, through the white fuzz on the heart-shaped bust, down the front of the fake corset laces, and to his hips. Straddled over his lap, Pride’s skirt rode up his thighs even shorter than it already was, his remaining modesty saved only by another layer of fuzz. His head felt fuzzy too, looking down at Justice under him.
Before Pride realized he was getting closer, their lips brushed. A tiny spark raced down his spine, so he leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. Justice returned it, one arm around his waist, and the other cupping the back of his neck. Pride shivered, pressing against his body hard. He used a finger to pry his mouth open, Justice’s breath stuttering at the intrusion, and mashed their faces together.
He couldn’t tell whose breath tasted more like shit, but he didn’t care. These drunken kisses were the best thing he’d ever felt in his life, Justice warm and whining and grabbing him urgently. Pride gave his lip sloppy bites and sucks, played with his tongue, and moaned into his open mouth. He didn’t realize he was this horny—was he horny before? Was he just really high?
A wet pop signaled the end of the kiss, and Justice’s whine of protest cemented it. Pride shushed him with a hand, and brought the joint back to his lips experimentally. If he got hornier after this pull, that would… prove something, probably.
He coughed, blowing the smoke directly into Justice’s face. He sputtered and swatted the air.
“Sorry, sorry,” Pride rasped, trying to find a place to put it down. There was an ashtray on the end table—maybe? It could have been a regular bowl—and ground it out.
“S’okay,” Justice said, rubbing his eyes.
Pride put his hands on his chest, biting his lip. He really wanted to fuck Justice right now. “D’you still have my bag?” he asked.
Justice leaned to one side and produced a plain black cinch bag from under his chair. He held it up, beaming. Pride took it with a grin of his own, and peeked inside. Everything he brought was inside, just as he’d left it.
“Hey.” Pride pressed their foreheads together. “Wanna do sex?”
His eyes got wide. “Out here?”
There was enough nervous excitement in his voice that Pride considered it, but ultimately shook his head. “No, no, ‘s too loud. Come on.”
He slid off Justice, took his wrist, and dragged him back into the house. Through the sea of people and pounding music, they wound through the maze of rooms until they came upon the holy grail: an empty bathroom. Pride staggered inside and locked the door behind them. A song about dancing skeletons leaked through the walls, but it was good enough for him.
“Cool,” Justice said, staring at one of the paintings.
“I’m cooler,” Pride countered. He dug through his bag until he found his prize, holding it aloft like a trophy. Clutched in his triumphant fist was a sparkly white dildo, one that matched his costume perfectly. “Proof.”
Justice gasped a little, hands fluttering to his mouth. “Oh… It’s pretty…”
“Pretty like meeeee.” Pride lifted his skirt, revealing the harness he wore underneath it, and slipped the dildo into the O-ring at its center. The dildo poked far past the length of the skirt. Justice chewed his thumbnail, looking urgently from the strap-on, to Pride, and back again.
“You’re really pretty,” he breathed. “I want to…”
Pride grabbed the front of his bodysuit and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss. “Get down.”
Immediately, Justice knelt on the floor. Pride swiveled his hips to show off, watching his eyes follow the dildo around. Fuck. He lost patience within seconds.
Pride got behind Justice, fumbling the zipper of the bodysuit down and off. Justice eagerly pulled his arms out of the sleeves and wiggled it down his hips, exposing the wide expanse of his back. Unable to resist, Pride licked his spine, drawing a wet line from tailbone to neck. Justice gasped, leaning forward on his hands. Goosebumps appeared over his freckled shoulders and down his arms. Pride slid his palms up his back.
“You’re so hot,” he said, practically drooling. “I’m gonna be so inside you.”
Justice whined and it was all the encouragement he needed. Fumbling for his bag again, Pride dug out the lube to slather his fingers in. A single brush against his hole made Justice whimper and spread his knees on the tile. Pride shoved two fingers inside him a bit faster than he meant to, but forgot all about it when he moaned.
A cloud of lust joined the haze of drugs and alcohol in his mind, everything going foggy and hot. Pride pumped in and out of Justice, spreading his ass as wide as he could make his fingers go. Justice squirmed and panted for him, rocking back on his hand desperately. It was hypnotizing to watch his own fingers disappear into his ass, come back out, slide back in. The world outside this feeling barely existed to Pride—the hug of warm muscle around his hand was all that mattered. Justice wasn’t the only one desperate for more.
“Ready?” Pride asked. “More?”
“Yes, more,” Justice breathed. He looked over his shoulder, eyes dark and pleading. “Please?”
It was so sexy, Pride almost forgot the lube. He slapped a layer onto his strap-on as fast as he could and yanked Justice’s hips back. In one swift thrust, he buried the dildo to the hilt. Justice cried out, face crumbling in shock and ecstasy. Pride hugged his waist, burying his face between his shoulder blades. Justice leaned heavily on his palms, knees slipping wide into froglike angles.
“Pride please,” he begged, “please, please move.”
“’M going, ‘m going,” Pride mumbled.
He pushed on Justice to pull out, folding him over his knees, and threw his whole body forward to thrust back in. A shocked moan met his ears as he squished his face against Justice’s back again, but he didn’t stop to admire it this time. Gripping his hips, Pride shoved out and thrusted in until he found a sloppy rhythm.
The music outside was deafened in the face of it. Every moan that fell out of Justice’s mouth warbled, rocked by Pride’s relentless pace. Pride himself smeared wet kisses onto his back, groping up and down his body. The halo headband bounced in every direction while he fucked, jumping in and out of his peripheral vision. It was annoying. Pride threw it to the floor with a growl, scraping his nails up Justice’s thighs. He whined, fists curling on the tile.
“F-feels so good,” he panted.
Pride snapped his hips, drawing out a soft cry. “Is it the best?”
Justice nodded quickly. It was good enough for his impatience. Pride shoved his hands down, pulled his cock out, and gave it long stroke after long stroke. Justice choked, arching his back and leaning farther over his hands. He built back up to whimpering and moaning, Pride’s name half-pronounced falling from his lips.
There was a loud knock at the door. “Is someone in there?”
Pride rolled his eyes. “Not now! We’re having sex!”
“Uhhh—?”
“Pride!” Justice squeaked.
“Leave!” Pride demanded, and slammed his hips forward.
Justice couldn’t hold back his moan, and the person at the door quickly left.
The interruption was forgotten in seconds, as Pride drove the strap-on into his ass as hard as he could. The wings on his back jostled fast enough to take flight, if only they weren’t made of stiff wire and plastic. The idea made him groan, of taking Justice high into the sky to fuck him in the clouds. Dressed as parodies of each other, Pride wanted to spread his ass for all of Heaven to see.
“It would be so hot,” he slurred, “if the Big G was watchin’ right now.”
“H-huh?”
“The biiiiig G.” Pride punctuated his next thrust with a hard stroke. “He’s prob’ly watchin’ us.” Justice whined behind his teeth, confusion laced in the sound. Pride tried again. “You know, seein’ us be all sexy. Together. Bet He knew it was gonna happen, too.”
It seemed to click, then. Justice shuddered a hot gasp, a moan creeping into his voice. Pride went faster, losing all pace for the sake of speed.
“Wonder if He knew we’d be in costumes, makin’ fun of His stuff. Angel-demon, demon-angel, fuckin’ and hoping He’s watchin’ it.”
Justice squirmed, whines shooting up an octave. Pride kept it up, kept thrusting into him, watching the sparkly dildo disappear over and over and over and—
On his next stroke, Justice came over his hand. He moaned and threw his head back so hard his horns got dislodged, headband falling across his face. Pride couldn’t help but laugh, stroking him through his orgasm and letting the hot cum spill over his fingers. He hoped God was watching even more—watching him take one of His precious angels to pieces.
When he was done, Pride pulled out. Justice scooted across the floor and flopped onto his side. The arms of the bodysuit draped over his sides and across the floor. There was a little cum on the front, where Pride’s fingers had dripped. Ignoring the mess, he crawled over to kiss Justice’s slaw-jawed mouth.
“Did you like it?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” Justice mumbled.
“Want me to get a drink?”
He nodded against the tile. Pride kissed him again and stood up, wandering back out into the party with his strap-on still hanging heavy over his hips and hand still slick. Weirdly, no one was around to be scandalized by it. He frowned as he turned endless corners to get back to the kitchen—or anywhere with an abandoned up lying around. And then he heard it.
“The winner of the Slutty Costume Contest goes to…”
Pride felt his stomach drop like a stone. He ran towards the DJ’s voice, reaching the contest just in time to see someone else be crowned the winner.
“Aw, shit!”
