Halloween Hookup Gone Wrong
An SPH Experience by Adorable-Comb8294.
I dressed to show off. I’m the guy who hits the weights hard—broad shoulders, defined abs, arms that fill out a shirt just right. People always say I’ve got a pretty face too, a sharp jawline, easy smile. So I went with that prisoner costume: tight white tank clinging to my chest, baggy orange pants low on my hips, and fake handcuffs dangling from one wrist. Felt like a fucking stud when I looked in the mirror. Elise showed up in her slutty student getup—plaid skirt barely covering her ass, cropped white blouse tied under her fake tits, knee-high socks, the whole pornstar vibe.
Her friend Katie rolled up as a sexy cop: short blue skirt, badge over her cleavage, those heeled boots that screamed ‘arrest me, daddy.’ Then there was Liam, their gay buddy in a devil costume—red horns, tail, cracking jokes from the jump. We hit the bars, shots flowing, dancing close, the energy buzzing. Elise kept grabbing my arms, whispering how ripped I was, and I was eating it up.
The night peaked around midnight, buzzed and sweaty, when we decided to head back. Someone called a party limo—tiny thing, blacked-out windows, leather seats that forced us all hip-to-hip for the 45-minute ride to the suburbs. We piled in laughing: Elise and I in the back corner, Katie and Liam across from us. But right as the door shut, this lanky dude, Oscar, jumped in at the last second—he’d run into the girls downtown earlier: tall, skinny hipster type, messy hair, ironic tee under a jacket. I didn’t think much of him at first, but the vibe shifted hard. Turns out Elise had hooked up with him once before, some casual thing, and Katie was actually seeing him now. Low-key tension simmered as the limo pulled away.
Katie wasted no time. She twisted around, half-climbing into Oscar’s lap, her hand sliding up his thigh, rubbing him through his jeans right there in front of everyone. “Missed this,” she purred, loud enough for the whole car to hear.
Liam jumped in with his devilish grin: “Damn, Katie, saving the best for the ride home?”
Everyone chuckled, but I caught Elise stiffening next to me. She leaned in aggressively, lips crashing into mine like she was staking a claim. Her tongue pushed deep, hands roaming my chest, squeezing my pecs. I kissed back, pulse racing, but Liam piped up again: “You should’ve brought your boy toy, Elise—give us a real show!”
The car erupted in laughs, and my stomach twisted. I wasn’t down for exhibitionism. This felt like it was veering into group territory, and I played it cool, hoping it’d stay at heavy petting.
Elise amped it up, almost performative, like she was competing. She ground against my leg, whispering hot in my ear, but I could feel the eyes on us. Then Katie dropped low in her boots, knees spreading on the floor, fingers working Oscar’s zipper. “Let’s see what you’ve got for me,” she teased. His pants came down, boxers shoved aside, and fuck—my breath caught in my throat.
This scrawny hipster whipped out a monster cock. Had to be nine inches easy, thick as my wrist, veins bulging, head already leaking pre-cum. Katie’s eyes lit up. She wrapped her lips around the tip, struggling to take more than half before gagging wetly as he grabbed her ponytail and guided her down. Oscar groaned low, hips bucking, that massive dick disappearing inch by inch into her throat while she slurped and moaned around it.
I froze, staring despite myself. Elise noticed, yanking my face back to hers. “Ignore them,” she muttered, but her annoyance was obvious—the sounds of Katie’s blowjob filling the limo, wet pops and chokes echoing off the windows.
We made out harder, her nails digging into my neck, but my body’s betrayal hit quick. I got semi-hard in my orange pants, that whiskey dick kicking in from all the drinks—thick head but not rising full. I wanted to fuck her bad, slide into that tight skirt, and claim the night, but nerves and booze kept me from peaking. Elise pulled back, frustration flashing in her eyes as she glanced at her friend deepthroating Oscar like a pro.
It turned into this weird show-off fest. Elise grabbed my handcuffs, snapping one cuff around my wrist and looping the chain over the passenger handle above the seat, pinning my arm up like I was on display. “Flex those muscles for me, daddy,” she cooed loudly, running her hands over my tank, pinching my nipples through the fabric.
She made a big production of it—’examining’ me like some strip club routine, tracing my abs, squeezing my thighs, even biting my shoulder. It was over-the-top, pulling me out of the mood a bit, but I rolled with it, flexing my biceps, hoping the teasing would build me up slow. Her skirt hiked higher, brushing my crotch, and I felt myself twitch, almost there.
Then she went for it. Hands hooked into my waistband, yanking the orange pants and boxers down in one rough tug, exposing me to the humid limo air. She gasped—sharp, audible, like she’d seen a ghost.
My heart slammed.
That sound?
It either means jackpot or disaster, and mine was the tiny 1.5-inch nub, soft and shriveled from the nerves, barely poking out like a sad worm.
Silence crashed over the car, thicker than the moans had been.
Everyone’s eyes locked on—Katie pausing mid-suck, lips glossy around Oscar’s girth.
Liam smirking.
Oscar just staring with this knowing tilt to his head.
“Given his muscles and that outfit,” Oscar drawled, not missing a beat as Katie resumed bobbing on his huge cock, “I could’ve told you it was gonna be small.”
Laughter bubbled up from Katie and Liam, low and cutting. Heat flooded my face, chest tight with shame.
Elise recovered quick, trying to spin it: “He’s a grower, not a shower—watch this.”
She uncuffed me fast, dropping to her knees between my legs. Her mouth engulfed my little dick whole, no effort, tongue swirling the head as she sucked hard, trying to coax it bigger. When that didn’t work, she peeled off her crop top, those big fake tits spilling out, and pressed my cock between them—tittyfucking me with exaggerated moans, squeezing her cleavage around my pathetic length. It felt good, warm and soft, but I topped out at 3.5 inches, hard, thin, and unremarkable, lost in her valley.
She pulled back, staring at it in shock, mouth open like she couldn’t process—no words—just wide eyes flicking to Oscar’s monster, still getting worshipped across from us. Katie chuckled around a mouthful, and Oscar grinned wide: “Elise, I could make space on my schedule for you, but it’s gonna cost ya.”
Katie snorted a laugh, popping off his dick to wipe her chin. Elise’s face twisted—pissed, humiliated. “Oh, just shut the fuck up,” she snapped, standing abruptly, tits bouncing as she snatched her top and stormed to the other side, plopping next to Liam with her arms crossed, fuming.
I sat there stunned, dick wilting fast in the open air. No one looked at me now. The spotlight swung back to Katie climbing onto Oscar’s lap, guiding that thick nine-incher into her pussy with a gasp, riding him reverse cowgirl so we all saw it stretch her wide. Wet slaps filled the space, her ass cheeks rippling as she bounced, moaning loudly while he gripped her hips. My dick throbbed traitorously in my pants after I yanked them up, humiliation twisting into this sick arousal—watching them fuck while I hid in the corner, invisible and inadequate. Elise wouldn’t meet my eyes, texting furiously on her phone. Liam shot me a sympathetic wink, but it burned.
The limo hit my drop-off first—some bullshit excuse from Elise about traffic.
Door opened, cold night air hit, and I stumbled out alone, costume rumpled, ego shattered.
Never heard from her again.
No text, no call.
Just radio silence that echoed louder than the laughs.
I jerked off to the memory that night, replaying the gasp, the stares, the way my small cdick failed the spotlight.
Still do sometimes.
Fucking humiliating, but it sticks.
The End.
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