Applying black lipstick to my lips, I put the finishing touches on my black cat Halloween costume. Donning lingerie, ears and a tail, I headed out the door, a condom, vibrator and a small bottle of lube fumbling around in my clutch bag, ready for the sexiest night of the year.
I arrived at the party on Halloween night an hour later than most; my make-up alone had taken two hours, my hair again nearly two, and getting dressed at least half an hour, but I looked fierce.
You couldn’t tell who I was unless you knew my eyes really well, because a black mask covered the eye area of my face. My mouth stayed free, ready to use.
At the time, I was in my sexual prime. I wanted it a lot, and I’d go prepared to almost anywhere. The coffee shop, supermarket, you name it, but parties in particular were my go-to.
I couldn’t have been at the party for more than five minutes when a tall, what I thought to be a stranger, approached me.
He was strikingly handsome, even behind his mask. His jawline was sharp, his hair jet black, and his tan looked like it stayed around all year round.
The music was loud, the room dimly lit by a red neon sign, but his almost black eyes stood out behind his Michael Myers mask.
His voice was husky, and part of me felt like I recognised it, but I didn’t put a name to the accent.
One drink, maybe two later, we were making out as we bumped into walls on our way to the bedroom.
We were so eager, neither of us took our masks off, and we fucked a good three times.
The next morning, I awoke facing him, masks off. I realised I knew him; he was one of my first ever neighbours.
Shaking him awake, he too looked shocked.
"Sophie, no way." We couldn't stop laughing, and hooked up for many years after.
Written by VavaViolet Magazine’s Founder and Editor-in-Chief, Sophie Blackman
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