I Got Trapped in a Haunted House with a Stranger and Things Got Wild [FM]

Okay, so last Halloween, I'm 19, working part-time at this sketchy pop-up haunted house in a creepy old warehouse. You know, the kind with fake blood and jump scares for drunk college kids. My job's to dress as a "ghost girl" in a ripped dress, scare people in the maze, and not laugh when they scream. It's fun, pays cash, and I'm kinda into spooky shit, so win-win.

One night, it's super busy, and I'm in my corner of the maze, doing my creepy whispers. This guy, maybe 22, comes through alone, no friends, which is weird. He's cute—tall, messy hair, nervous vibes. I jump out, he yelps, but then he laughs and says, "Damn, you're too hot to be a ghost." I'm blushing under my white face paint, but I stay in character and hiss at him. He winks and moves on.

Fast forward, it's closing time, like 2 a.m. I'm heading out, but I hear this weird banging from the maze. I figure someone left a prop loose, so I go check. Turns out, it's that cute guy, stuck in this secret trapdoor room we use for VIP scare experiences. He's freaking out, says he got lost after his group ditched him, and the door locked behind him. The warehouse is huge, my coworkers are gone, and my phone's dead. His too. We're legit trapped.

We're yelling for help, but nobody hears. It's freezing, so we huddle in this creepy room with fake cobwebs and a flickering lantern prop. He's like, "This is some horror movie shit," and I'm laughing but lowkey scared. To calm down, we start talking—turns out he's a music major, plays guitar, super sweet. The vibe shifts, and I notice he's staring at my lips, paint smudged from sweating all night.

Idk what possesed me, but I lean in and kiss him. He kisses back, hard, and suddenly we're making out like crazy, hands everywhere. My dress is half-off, and he's groping my tits, sucking my nipples through the fabric. I'm so wet it's embarassing, my pussy throbbing as he slides his hand down my tights. He fingers me, slow at first, then faster, curling just right till I'm moaning into his mouth, cumming so hard I see stars.

I'm like, "your turn," and yank his jeans down. His dick's rock hard, thick, veins and all. I suck him off, sloppy, spit dripping, taking him deep till he's groaning, "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum." But he pulls me up, flips me onto this dusty prop table, and shoves his cock in my pussy. It's raw, intense—he's pounding my ass against the table, my legs wrapped around him. The lantern's shaking, casting weird shadows, and I'm screaming, "Harder!" I cum again, clenching around his dick, and he busts a tsunami wave off hot and warm cumm in my pussy.

We're catching our breath, laughing at how insane this is, when we hear the haunted house worker's voice. He's back to lock up, finds us, and we make up some bullshit about getting lost. He doesn't buy it, smirks at my messed-up dress, but lets us go. Me and that guy swapped numbers, hooked up a few more times, but nothing beat that night. Was it the adrenaline, the creepiness, or just us being horny idiots? Idk, but I'll never look at haunted houses the same.