“Elvira, OOPS!”


Hi, everyone! Sorry I missed Halloween with this story but...Enjoy!


“Elvira, OOPS!”
By tina

My name is Rachel Owens. I am average height at about 5'5"and a little plump. But I have great legs and a nice voluptuous figure. I decided on a dramatic costume for Halloween. My outfit begins with sheer to the waist jet black pantyhose. I am not wearing panties because I plan to get lucky at the party. I don a waist cincher which I tie as snugly as possible. If I pass out with no one around that would be a big "OOPS!'. The long black form fitting dress is a size too small so it really hugs and accentuates my curves. The slit up the side and down the front reveals lots of leg and beautiful cleavage. I apply campy, vampy makeup and when I don the bouffant black wig I am transformed.
I look in the full length mirror and there is no mistake. Elvira, Mistress of the Night stares back at me. I am ready for THE Halloween party.
Halloween is such a kid party that adults can’t help but crash. I expect to be dazzled by pirates, scared by skeletons, swept away by sheiks and ensnared by spider men. But I’m really looking for superman.
“Hi, I’m Albert.”
What I get is a sailor. He is a dark good looking Italian with a pompadour almost as big as my bouffant. At least he appears to be a sailor in a “P” coat and bell bottoms. There is a white sailor’s cap tucked into his belt. The nylon stockings hanging that also hang from his navy blue web belt are a puzzle.
“You’re a sailor,” I state confidently.
“I am a sailor and you of course are Elvira.”
I am immediately pleased that he recognizes me. I am Elvira, Mistress of the Night. He takes my hand in his. He is strong. His hand is rough and tough and calloused. I feel myself flush as I feel his hot interest.
“But, ah, I mean, um, what’s with the nylons?”
He laughs and it is a wonderful laugh. His eyes fix on mine and he smiles. His rough, tough hand holds my delicate hand a little firmer. “I’m Albert… Albert De Salvo, the Boston Strangler.”
“Oh, my,” I say with a mischievous smile on my whore red lips, “Am I in danger, Mr. Strangler?”
He simply returns my smile as he leads me to the dance floor.
We dance the evening away and the next thing I know I am in his car. He is driving us to his apartment and I am giving him a blow job. I’m not sure where we are exactly when he ejaculates and I swallow. “You’re a salty sailor, Mr. Strangler,” I tell him as I wipe semen from the corner of my mouth. He is a man of few words. We drive in silence the rest of the way to his apartment as I continue to stroke his lovely cock. “My pussy is going to suck you dry, too, Mr. Strangler,” I whisper in his ear. I see the corner of his mouth turn up in the slight hint of a smile. Soon enough we are naked in his bed. My pussy is sucking his wonderful cock as I marvel at his stamina. This is not love making. It is what I had hoped for this Halloween night. He fucks me with hard thrusts and my nails rake his back and we burn up in hot passion as I cum and so does he. He is apparently finally satiated as I feel his penis begin to shrivel. I can feel his cum leak from my cunt as he pulls free.
“Thank you, Mr. Strangler,” I say as I sit up on the edge of the bed and grab my sheer hose from the floor. As I had done earlier I begin to transform my legs with the gossamer nylons. I stand as I begin to smooth the sheer black stockings up my thighs. The waist band is half way home when he wraps a pair of his sheer full fashion nylons around my slender throat.
My scream is short lived but contains certain gusto. I realize immediately that he was plucking his stockings from his belt as I plucked mine from the dingy carpet of his walk up apartment.
I dig furiously at the nylon band. I hear the odd gasps and gurgles as I try desperately to inhale. I realize it won’t be an easy business as we stagger around his bedroom. It is only now I remember. “Am I in danger, Mr. Strangler?” He no longer needs to answer. He draws the stockings tighter as we do our final dance. At one point I catch a glimpse in the mirror. I am no longer Elvira but that is not Rachel’s face in the mirror either. A contorted gargoyle face stares at me as he continues to strangle me. “My, what a big tongue you have,” I say to the grotesque lady in the mirror.
I am falling and I only stop as I land with a thud on the bedroom floor. He continues to choke with the sheer nylon stockings as my legs twitch and my arms fall away from my damaged throat. The only pain I feel is from those lovely nylons crushing my throat and the bond fire burning my lungs.
Albert dumps my body in an alley not far from the hall where we danced. He has redressed me. I am Elvira, Mistress of the Night, “OOPS!”