Long Distance Reunion at Costume Party

Roxanne’s heels clicked against the hardwood as she stepped into the thumping heart of the Halloween party, the black cat suit painted onto her body like a second skin. The Lycra clung to every curve of her twenty-eight-year-old frame—full breasts pushed high, nipples already stiff from the chill of the night air and the knowledge of who might be waiting inside. Two years across the country had not dulled the ache. Marketing decks and late-night flights had filled her days, but the flirty texts with Yara had kept something hotter simmering underneath. She scanned the crowded living room, pulse hammering.

And then she saw her.

Yara stood near the makeshift bar, twenty-six and devastating in a deep crimson velvet gown slit to the hip, a black lace corset cinching her waist, fake fangs glinting as she laughed at something someone said. A high collar framed her throat; dark lipstick made her mouth look sinful. The vampire queen costume left almost nothing to the imagination—pale cleavage swelling over the top, long legs ending in stilettos that made her tower. Their eyes locked across the room. The music, the laughter, the press of costumed bodies all faded. Heat licked straight down Roxanne’s spine and settled heavy between her thighs. Yara’s gaze dragged slowly over the cat ears perched in Roxanne’s dark hair, the zipper running from throat to navel, the way the suit disappeared between her legs. A slow, knowing smile curved Yara’s painted lips. She wanted this. Roxanne wanted this. The years of pining cracked open in that single look.

Roxanne cut through the crowd. Yara met her halfway.

“Fuck,” Yara breathed, voice low and rough. “Look at you. That suit should be illegal.”

“Says the woman dressed like every filthy fantasy I’ve ever had.” Roxanne’s fingers brushed the velvet at Yara’s waist, lingering. Electricity jumped between them. “Two years and you still smell like trouble.”

Yara leaned in so her lips almost grazed Roxanne’s ear. “I’ve been counting the days since you said you were flying in. Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

“I almost didn’t. Then I remembered who was going to be here dressed like that.” Roxanne let her hand slide lower, just above the high slit, feeling the heat of bare skin. “Missed you, Yara.”

“Missed your mouth more.” Yara’s fangs scraped lightly against Roxanne’s jaw before she pulled back, eyes dark. “Dance with me before I drag you upstairs in front of everyone.”

They found the packed dance floor. Bodies bumped and swayed around them, but Roxanne only felt Yara. The vampire queen turned, pressing her ass back into Roxanne’s hips, rolling slow and filthy to the bass. Roxanne’s hands settled on those cinched hips, then drifted higher, thumbs stroking the undersides of Yara’s breasts through the corset. Yara reached back, one hand sliding up Roxanne’s thigh, fingers tracing the seam that ran between her legs. The touch was deliberate, proprietary. Roxanne’s breath hitched.

“You’re soaked already,” Yara murmured, pressing harder so the fabric of the cat suit rubbed Roxanne’s clit. “I can feel it. All those late-night texts where you told me what you’d do if you were in my bed… I touched myself every single time. Came so hard thinking about your tongue.”

Roxanne ground forward, letting Yara feel the hard points of her nipples against her back. “I flew three thousand miles for this party. For my best friend’s stupid costumes. But mostly I flew home so I could finally put my hands on you.” She nipped the side of Yara’s neck. “Tell me you want it too.”

“I’ve been aching for you.” Yara spun in her arms, chests pressed together, mouths a breath apart. “Every fucking day. The way you used to walk around our dorm in just a tank top… I wanted to pin you down and eat you until you screamed. Still do.” Her thigh slid between Roxanne’s legs, grinding up. “Feel how wet I am already? That’s all you.”

The friction was delicious and nowhere near enough. Roxanne’s hands cupped Yara’s ass under the slit of the gown, squeezing bare flesh. No panties. The discovery punched a moan out of her. Yara kissed her then—hungry, open-mouthed, fangs carefully angled away as tongues stroked deep. They kissed like they were starving, grinding in the middle of the dance floor while strangers danced around them, oblivious or not caring. Roxanne’s cat-suit crotch was slick and hot; every roll of Yara’s thigh sent sparks shooting up her spine.

Yara broke the kiss, pupils blown. “Upstairs. Now. Or I’m going to finger you right here.”

Roxanne didn’t hesitate. They pushed through the crowd, up the narrow staircase, Yara’s hand locked tight around hers. The first unlocked door revealed a dimly lit guest bedroom—low lamp, coats piled on a chair, a wide bed with a dark comforter. Yara kicked the door shut and shoved Roxanne against it, mouths crashing together again. The kiss turned feral. Roxanne’s zipper gave under Yara’s impatient fingers, peeling open to bare full breasts, nipples tight and dark. Yara’s mouth latched onto one immediately, sucking hard, tongue flicking while her hand shoved down the front of the cat suit.

“Jesus—yes—” Roxanne arched, fucking herself onto those fingers. Two slid through her soaked folds and sank deep. “I’ve wanted this since the night before I left. You in those little sleep shorts… I almost crawled into your bed.”

Yara pumped her fingers slow and filthy, curling. “You should have. I was lying there touching myself, praying you’d come in. I’ve been so empty without you.” She pulled her hand free, shiny with Roxanne’s arousal, and sucked her fingers clean with a groan. “Taste yourself. You’ve been dripping for me all night.”

Roxanne yanked Yara’s corset down, freeing heavy breasts, and attacked them with lips and teeth. At the same time she shoved the velvet gown higher, cupping Yara’s bare pussy. Slick heat coated her palm. She rubbed tight circles over Yara’s clit while two fingers pushed inside.

“Fuck, Roxanne—harder. Use me.” Yara’s head fell back, hips riding the hand. “I need your mouth on me. I’ve dreamed about sitting on your face in that goddamn cat suit.”

They stumbled toward the bed, shedding what little remained in the way. Roxanne’s suit peeled down to her thighs; Yara’s gown pooled at her waist. They fell onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, kissing like they might never stop—tongues deep, hands everywhere. Roxanne pushed Yara onto her back and settled between spread thighs, but Yara flipped them with a hungry growl, straddling Roxanne’s face and leaning down at the same time so they could sixty-nine. The first long lick through Yara’s cunt made them both moan into each other. Yara was swollen, dripping, clit throbbing against Roxanne’s tongue. Roxanne licked and sucked like she’d been dying of thirst, two fingers thrusting deep while she hummed against that perfect pussy.

Yara returned the favor with equal desperation, spreading Roxanne open and devouring her—long flat strokes, then pointed flicks, then sucking her clit between painted lips while three fingers stretched her open. The wet sounds filled the room. Roxanne’s hips bucked; she fucked Yara’s face shamelessly while her own mouth stayed buried, tongue fucking deep, nose pressed to Yara’s ass.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” Yara gasped between licks, voice muffled and filthy. “So fucking wet for me. I’m going to ruin this tight little cunt. Make you come until you can’t walk. Tell me how bad you need it.”

“I need your fingers, your mouth, everything—don’t stop, Yara, please—” Roxanne’s words broke into a broken moan as Yara scissored two fingers inside her and curled hard against her front wall. “I came home for this. For you. Wanted to feel you come on my tongue again and again.”

Yara ground down harder, riding Roxanne’s mouth, thighs trembling. “Beg for it. Tell me you’ll stay the night so I can keep you full. I want to wake up with your face between my legs.”

“Please—don’t stop fingering me. I’m so close already. Want you to soak my tongue when you come. Want to feel you shake.” Roxanne’s free hand gripped Yara’s ass, spreading her wider, tongue thrusting deep while her thumb rubbed tight circles over Yara’s clit. “Fuck my face. Use me. I’ve been yours since college and you know it.”

They ground against each other’s mouths in a frenzy of wet heat and desperate noises—gasps, curses, the slick slap of fingers and tongues. Yara’s orgasm built fast and hard; her thighs clamped around Roxanne’s head as she came with a shattered cry, pulsing and flooding Roxanne’s tongue. The taste and the feel of it pushed Roxanne over right behind her. She came with a muffled scream into Yara’s cunt, walls clamping down on those clever fingers, hips jerking wildly while pleasure ripped through her in waves.

They didn’t stop. Even as the aftershocks faded they kept licking, slower now but still hungry, bodies tangled and trembling. Yara rolled them so they lay side by side, legs still hooked, mouths shiny and swollen as they kissed the taste of each other back and forth. Hands roamed—cupping breasts, pinching nipples, sliding back between slick thighs to pet and tease without letting the fire die.

“We’re not done,” Yara whispered against Roxanne’s lips, two fingers still gently stroking inside her. “I need you on your knees next. Need to watch you come on my tongue again while I finger that pretty ass. And then I want you to fuck me with that strap I packed just in case you showed up.” Her free hand squeezed Roxanne’s breast hard. “Tell me you’re staying. Tell me this costume comes off for good tonight.”

Roxanne’s laugh was breathless, wrecked. She hooked a leg higher over Yara’s hip and pushed back onto those fingers. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you’ve fucked every last inch of tension out of me. And then I’m going to make you scream loud enough the whole party hears.” She nipped Yara’s lower lip, eyes blazing. “Your move, vampire queen. I’m dripping down my thighs for you. Don’t make me wait.”

Yara’s smile turned wicked as she slowly withdrew her fingers and painted Roxanne’s nipples with her own wetness. The night was young, the door was locked, and neither woman had any intention of coming up for air anytime soon.

Yara’s smile stayed wicked as she rose from the mattress, velvet gown still rucked around her hips, breasts bare and marked from Roxanne’s mouth. She caught Roxanne’s wrist and hauled her up, spinning her in one fluid motion until Roxanne’s back slammed against the bedroom wall. The impact knocked a startled laugh out of her that died instantly when Yara’s body pinned her there—corset half-loose, fangs glinting, eyes black with hunger.

“Stay,” Yara ordered, voice rough. She yanked the cat-suit zipper the rest of the way down in one vicious pull. Lycra peeled open over flushed skin, over the soft curve of Roxanne’s belly, over the dark thatch already glistening. Yara shoved the suit down past Roxanne’s hips until it trapped her thighs, then dropped hard to her knees on the hardwood.

Roxanne’s head thunked back against the wall. Cool air hit her soaked pussy for half a second before Yara’s mouth claimed it. No teasing. Long, aggressive licks dragged from entrance to clit, flat tongue collecting every drop of slick. Yara groaned like she’d been starving, then sealed her painted lips around the swollen bud and sucked hard enough to make Roxanne’s knees buckle.

“Fuck—Yara—” Roxanne’s hands flew to dark hair, gripping, hips already rolling. Two years of texts and lonely nights crashed through her in wet heat. Yara’s tongue speared deep, fucking into her, then dragged up again to lash her clit in relentless strokes. Fingers dug into Roxanne’s ass, holding her open, smearing her open against that greedy mouth. The wet sounds were filthy, loud even over the distant thump of party bass. Yara sucked harder, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks up Roxanne’s spine, then buried her face and ate like she meant to leave bruises.

Roxanne’s thighs shook. Interior thought scattered—home, finally home, Yara’s tongue inside her again after forever. She ground down shamelessly, fucking Yara’s face, the cat ears still perched crooked in her hair. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop—I’m—” The orgasm ripped through her without warning. She came hard against Yara’s mouth, a broken cry tearing free, walls pulsing, slick flooding Yara’s tongue. Yara kept licking through it, swallowing every spasm, until Roxanne was trembling and oversensitive and still pushing closer for more.

Only then did Yara rise, mouth shiny, chin wet. She kissed Roxanne deep so she could taste herself, then steered them both toward the bed. “My bag,” she panted. “Under the coats.”

Roxanne found it—a small black tote half-hidden beneath abandoned jackets. Inside, nestled among lipstick and spare fangs, lay a thick black dildo already harnessed, the leather straps gleaming. Heat punched low in her belly. She stepped out of the ruined cat suit completely while Yara stripped the rest of the velvet gown and corset, leaving only the high collar and stilettos. Roxanne stepped into the harness, buckling it tight around her hips. The heavy cock jutted obscenely; she stroked lube along its length with shaking fingers while Yara watched, licking her lips.

“On the bed. Hands and knees. Now.”

Yara obeyed with a filthy little moan, crawling onto the dark comforter and arching her back, presenting the pale curve of her ass, pussy already dripping down her inner thighs. Roxanne climbed up behind her, one hand smoothing over that perfect ass before she lined the thick head up and pushed in. Slow at first—watching the black shaft disappear into pink—then deeper, until she bottomed out and Yara’s cry cracked through the room.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” Roxanne gripped her hips and started to move. Deep, rough strokes that made the bedframe creak. She pulled almost all the way out and slammed home again, watching Yara’s body take every inch. One hand cracked across a bare cheek—hard enough to bloom red—then again on the other side. Yara shoved back to meet every thrust, greedy, the vampire collar bouncing with the force.

“Harder,” Yara gasped. “Spank me again—pull my hair—use me like you’ve been dying to—”

Roxanne fisted a handful of dark hair and yanked her head back, changing the angle so the dildo dragged over that sweet spot on every plunge. Wet slaps filled the air. She spanked the same cheek until it glowed, then the other, feeling Yara’s cunt clench tighter around the thick cock with every strike. “Two years I jerked off thinking about this—your tight little pussy stretched open for me, you begging like a slut in a queen’s dress. Feel how deep I am? That’s all for you.”

Yara’s answer was a broken moan, fingers twisting in the sheets. Roxanne fucked her relentlessly, hips snapping, free hand alternating between sharp spanks and reaching under to rub tight circles over Yara’s clit. Sweat slicked their skin. The harness rubbed Roxanne’s own swollen clit with every thrust, building another sharp edge of pleasure. She leaned over Yara’s back, fangs of her own sinking lightly into the vampire’s shoulder, and whispered, “Come on it. Soak this cock so I can feel how much you missed me.”

Yara shattered with a scream, walls fluttering and clamping, body jerking as she came hard around the dildo. Roxanne rode her through it, fucking her deep and slow until the aftershocks eased, then pulled out with a wet sound. She flipped Yara onto her back in one smooth motion, unbuckled the harness with quick fingers, and tossed it aside. The dildo hit the floor forgotten.

Roxanne crawled up between spread thighs, hooked Yara’s legs high around her waist, and dropped her weight so their cunts met—slick, swollen, hot. Clit to clit. She rolled her hips in a filthy grind, rubbing them together in tight, circular pressure. Yara’s hands flew to her ass, pulling her closer, nails digging in.

“Yes—just like that—don’t you fucking stop.” Yara’s head thrashed. Their wetness mixed; every slide sent bright sparks through both of them. Roxanne braced on her forearms and ground harder, faster, their clits kissing and catching with perfect filthy friction. Breasts crushed together. Mouths collided in open, gasping kisses. The bed protested beneath them. Roxanne felt the second orgasm coiling low and vicious, felt Yara’s thighs start to shake in answer.

“I’m close—come with me,” Roxanne panted against her lips. “Want to feel you break while I soak your pussy. Want the whole goddamn party to hear how hard we come for each other.”

Yara’s answer was a desperate roll of hips, meeting every grind. They moved together in a frenzy of wet heat and skin, clit-to-clit pressure building until it snapped. Yara came first with a raw, screaming cry, body bowing off the bed, nails raking Roxanne’s back. The feel of her pulsing, flooding, dragged Roxanne over right behind her. Pleasure ripped through her in blinding waves; she ground down hard through it, both of them shaking and crying out, locked together as mutual orgasm wrecked them.

They collapsed in a sweaty, trembling tangle, still rocking gently against each other, aftershocks flickering. Roxanne’s face buried in Yara’s throat; Yara’s fingers stroked lazily down her spine. Breaths ragged. Hearts hammering. The locked door muffled the party below, but neither woman cared. Yara’s free hand found the discarded harness and dangled it between them with a wicked little smile, eyes already darkening again with fresh hunger.

“We’re just getting started,” she whispered against Roxanne’s mouth. “I packed more than one toy. And I still haven’t fucked that pretty ass like I promised.” Her thigh slid between Roxanne’s again, slow and deliberate. “Tell me you’re ready for round three, cat girl. Because I’m nowhere near done ruining you tonight.”

Yara’s thigh pressed higher, slick and insistent between Roxanne’s legs, and Roxanne answered with a raw, broken laugh that turned into a moan. “Ruin me then. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

Yara rolled them with surprising strength, pinning Roxanne face-down into the dark comforter. The discarded harness hit the floor with a soft thud. From the tote she pulled a slender, curved toy already gleaming with lube and a small bottle that she drizzled cold and thick down the cleft of Roxanne’s ass. Roxanne hissed at the chill, then pushed back instinctively when Yara’s thumb circled the tight ring of muscle, slow and patient.

“Breathe for me,” Yara murmured against the small of her back. One finger pressed inside, careful, working her open while the other hand slipped beneath to stroke her still-swollen clit. Roxanne’s breath stuttered. Two years of lonely nights and filthy texts collapsed into this single moment—Yara’s finger sliding deeper, curling, stretching, then a second joining it until the burn melted into thick heat.

“Fuck—yes—more—” Roxanne’s voice was muffled by the sheets. She rocked back, greedy, cat ears long since lost somewhere in the bedding. Yara replaced her fingers with the slender toy, easing it in inch by inch until the flared base sat snug against her. The stretch stole Roxanne’s breath; every nerve lit up when Yara gave it a gentle twist and then reached around to rub tight circles over her clit again.

“Feel that?” Yara’s lips brushed the shell of her ear. “That’s mine tonight. Every inch of you.” She withdrew almost all the way and pushed back in, slow and relentless, while her free hand kept working Roxanne’s clit. The dual sensation built fast—fullness in her ass, bright sparks at her front—until Roxanne was shaking, thighs slick, moaning open-mouthed into the mattress.

Yara flipped her onto her back without removing the toy, spread her wide, and settled between her legs. She licked a long stripe through Roxanne’s cunt, then sealed her mouth over her clit and sucked hard while she fucked the toy in short, precise strokes. Roxanne’s hands fisted in dark hair. The orgasm crashed over her in violent waves, ass clenching around the toy, pussy flooding Yara’s tongue. She came so hard her vision whited out, body bowing, a shattered cry tearing free that the party bass below couldn’t quite swallow.

Yara eased the toy free only when the spasms quieted, then crawled up Roxanne’s body and kissed her deep, sharing the taste. “My turn to watch you fall apart again,” she whispered, voice wrecked. She grabbed the harness from the floor, stepped into it herself this time, and buckled the thick black cock tight. Roxanne’s eyes went dark with fresh hunger.

Yara pushed Roxanne’s knees to her chest and lined up, sinking in with one smooth thrust until she was buried to the hilt. The stretch was perfect—obscene, delicious. She fucked her deep and steady at first, then harder, the harness slapping wetly, breasts bouncing, vampire collar still dark against her throat. Roxanne met every thrust, nails raking down Yara’s back, heels digging into her ass.

“Harder—fuck me like you mean it—”

Yara obliged, pounding into her until the bedframe rattled and Roxanne came again with a raw scream, walls fluttering and milking the cock. Yara followed right after, grinding deep as her own orgasm ripped through her, thighs shaking, a broken moan spilling against Roxanne’s mouth.

They collapsed in a sweaty, trembling heap, still locked together, aftershocks flickering. The toy slipped free; the harness was shoved aside. Bodies slick, hearts hammering, they kissed slow and messy, tasting salt and each other.

Still trembling and slick with sweat, Roxanne sat up on shaky arms. She crawled forward until she straddled Yara’s face, knees bracketing her head, and lowered herself with deliberate, possessive weight. Yara’s hands gripped her hips immediately, pulling her down. The first slow drag of tongue through her oversensitive folds made Roxanne gasp.

She rode her like that—slow, filthy, claiming—rolling her hips in lazy circles so her clit dragged over Yara’s tongue again and again. Yara licked her through every aftershock, humming, devouring, tongue flat and greedy, then pointed and precise, fucking up into her while Roxanne ground down harder. Slick coated Yara’s chin; sweat dripped from Roxanne’s breasts onto her chest. The pace stayed unhurried, almost worshipful, until another smaller, sharper orgasm fluttered through Roxanne and she cried out softly, thighs quaking around Yara’s head.

Only then did she lift off and collapse beside her. They kissed tenderly this time—soft, lingering, mouths swollen and shiny. Knowing smiles curved both their lips.

“Sneak out the back with me,” Roxanne murmured against Yara’s mouth. “Party can keep the costumes. I want you in my bed the rest of the night. And next month… you’re flying out to me. No more three-thousand-mile tease.”

Yara’s smile widened, eyes warm and wicked. “Deal. I’ll pack the good toys.”

They lay there another minute, tangled and sticky, laughing quietly under their breath at the muffled thump of music still vibrating through the floor. Roxanne brushed a strand of hair from Yara’s cheek and deadpanned, “Next time we do this, remind me to pick a costume with easier zippers. I think I just permanently fused Lycra to my soul.”