over in bed and find more than just an empty pillow and a vibrator; to ride the thick cock of a strong man who knew how to please a woman. Her pussy tightened at the train of delicious thoughts.
God, she needed to get laid.
They drove to the ritzy part of town and pulled in front of Le Maison des Loups, The House of Wolves. Perched on a rolling hilltop, the house was a huge mass of engraved stone and Greek architecture. Gargoyle-like wolf heads were carved into each column and around every window and door. There were even twin wolf images staring sightlessly from the front gate.
The owner, Devlin Wolfe, had quite a reputation for being a philanthropist, but no one really knew him or what he looked like. And folks like him had enough money that society actually bent to their whims instead of the other way around. When he asked to be left alone, they honestly left him alone, and he repaid the favor by donating generously to various charities and efforts. This year he was hosting the Halloween Ball to benefit local shelters. The bank where Marilyn worked bought tickets in bulk since the Wolfes were longtime patrons, which is how the three of them landed at this fancy shindig in the first place.
"Damn, do you think this is real marble?" Winston whispered as they entered the foyer.
"No. I think it’s actually vinyl." Marilyn nodded and lowered her voice. "Probably to match the vinyl siding they have outside."
Winston’s fuzzy white eyebrows lifted. "That was siding?"
Winding her arm around his back, Marilyn patted him softly on his fluffy butt. "You’re lucky you’re so cute, baby."
Celia smothered a laugh as they wound their way through the crowd toward the voluptuous vampire leaning against an elegant desk in the center of the oval entry hall. She was giving out numbers and pointing toward different rooms adjacent to this one. As they approached, she handed Celia a number.
Seven. A flutter skittered through her as she looked at the piece of paper in her hand. Lucky number seven. Though she had no clue what the number signified, Celia teetered on giddy that she’d been given her favorite number. Silly as it was to even have a lucky number. Clearing her head of such nonsense, she asked, "What do we do with this?"
The vampire grinned, baring perfectly white fangs against her blood-red lipstick. "That’s who you’ll be partnered with. It’s a charity ball, after all. All the women get a number."
"What if we’re otherwise...committed?" Marilyn asked, nodding toward Winston.
Elvira shrugged and pointed toward the fishbowl on the desk beside her. "You can put the number back and stay with Harvey there, or you can see what’s behind door number two. It’s up to you, sweetie."
"I better not." With a sigh, Marilyn dropped the number back into the bowl and grabbed the elbow of her six-foot tall rabbit. "We’re off to explore. Have fun with your charity case, Celia," she said, blowing a cloud of kisses as they glided into the first room on the right.
All the rooms branched off the center hall. Where should she go? Which room? Above each of the double doors were signs. The room Marilyn and Winston had entered was marked Anything Goes. Another room bore the title Renaissance Festival, and yet another said Space Opera.
She tapped the number against her chin. It was a themed masquerade party. Interesting. She’d never admit to any of her adult friends nowadays, but as a kid she loved role-playing games. She hated when her friends outgrew the fun and she had to leave it behind. But now, tonight, she’d be able to relive it—if only for a few hours.
The leather whip slapped softly against her thigh as she headed toward the room called The Jolly Roger. Anyone who knew her knew she was a sucker for adventure on the high seas.
Entering the room was like boarding a ship. A long wooden plank led up to the second floor, which held a small crowd of yarrr-ing buccaneers. There was a crow’s nest in the center with a wide
God, she needed to get laid.
They drove to the ritzy part of town and pulled in front of Le Maison des Loups, The House of Wolves. Perched on a rolling hilltop, the house was a huge mass of engraved stone and Greek architecture. Gargoyle-like wolf heads were carved into each column and around every window and door. There were even twin wolf images staring sightlessly from the front gate.
The owner, Devlin Wolfe, had quite a reputation for being a philanthropist, but no one really knew him or what he looked like. And folks like him had enough money that society actually bent to their whims instead of the other way around. When he asked to be left alone, they honestly left him alone, and he repaid the favor by donating generously to various charities and efforts. This year he was hosting the Halloween Ball to benefit local shelters. The bank where Marilyn worked bought tickets in bulk since the Wolfes were longtime patrons, which is how the three of them landed at this fancy shindig in the first place.
"Damn, do you think this is real marble?" Winston whispered as they entered the foyer.
"No. I think it’s actually vinyl." Marilyn nodded and lowered her voice. "Probably to match the vinyl siding they have outside."
Winston’s fuzzy white eyebrows lifted. "That was siding?"
Winding her arm around his back, Marilyn patted him softly on his fluffy butt. "You’re lucky you’re so cute, baby."
Celia smothered a laugh as they wound their way through the crowd toward the voluptuous vampire leaning against an elegant desk in the center of the oval entry hall. She was giving out numbers and pointing toward different rooms adjacent to this one. As they approached, she handed Celia a number.
Seven. A flutter skittered through her as she looked at the piece of paper in her hand. Lucky number seven. Though she had no clue what the number signified, Celia teetered on giddy that she’d been given her favorite number. Silly as it was to even have a lucky number. Clearing her head of such nonsense, she asked, "What do we do with this?"
The vampire grinned, baring perfectly white fangs against her blood-red lipstick. "That’s who you’ll be partnered with. It’s a charity ball, after all. All the women get a number."
"What if we’re otherwise...committed?" Marilyn asked, nodding toward Winston.
Elvira shrugged and pointed toward the fishbowl on the desk beside her. "You can put the number back and stay with Harvey there, or you can see what’s behind door number two. It’s up to you, sweetie."
"I better not." With a sigh, Marilyn dropped the number back into the bowl and grabbed the elbow of her six-foot tall rabbit. "We’re off to explore. Have fun with your charity case, Celia," she said, blowing a cloud of kisses as they glided into the first room on the right.
All the rooms branched off the center hall. Where should she go? Which room? Above each of the double doors were signs. The room Marilyn and Winston had entered was marked Anything Goes. Another room bore the title Renaissance Festival, and yet another said Space Opera.
She tapped the number against her chin. It was a themed masquerade party. Interesting. She’d never admit to any of her adult friends nowadays, but as a kid she loved role-playing games. She hated when her friends outgrew the fun and she had to leave it behind. But now, tonight, she’d be able to relive it—if only for a few hours.
The leather whip slapped softly against her thigh as she headed toward the room called The Jolly Roger. Anyone who knew her knew she was a sucker for adventure on the high seas.
Entering the room was like boarding a ship. A long wooden plank led up to the second floor, which held a small crowd of yarrr-ing buccaneers. There was a crow’s nest in the center with a wide
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