It was her first Halloween since turning 18, and Elizabeth had been excited for months. Every detail of her costume had been planned out for just as long.
A growth spurt paired with hitting the gym had sculpted the perfect features into her petite and innocent frame.
Sensually tight-knit fishnets hugged her defined, slim legs perfectly, trailing up to the small of her waist, drawing attention just below her cute belly-button.
Chunky heels defined her legs even further, drawing the eye down to her ankles and emphasizing the slimness of them. Plus, they provided several extra inches, which, at her frame of 5'0 was much appreciated, even with the difficulty dancing it might cause while partying.
A tight leather push-up bra defined her chest beautifully, her boobs pressed together, forming a crack so deep she could be fucked there, and she grinned at the thought.
A simple black choker drew naughty attention to her neck, her long blonde hair thick and voluminous around it, adorned with a simple headband of fluffy kitten ears.
Her body on display like this was new, even since she'd been legal. She typically preferred the way men went wild when she left a lot to the imagination: a big t-shirt exposing a singular tasteful collarbone hiding small shorts, which overall gave the illusion of walking around in nothing but panties.
But this, this was incredible. She admired herself in the mirror, turning and bending and angling herself in all sorts of ways, greedily drinking in each view and angle of her thick ass and plump tits. She would definitely fuck her clone.
The crown jewel of her outfit was the thin white panties the fishnets barely covered. The thong was pure lace and only marginally thicker in front of her vagina, and she would bet anything there would be several slips throughout the night, and no idea seemed more exciting and delicious.
Her body was wonderfully matured, and she was beautiful, with big brown eyes that drew in first an urge to protect and soon, when she lowered her lids the right way and smirked those inviting lips, to fuck.
Being invited to parties predominated by older friends was no new deal, but tonight was especially exciting: the largest fraternity in the local college area. The frat house was massive due to incredible funding, practically a small mansion. The parties were mythical: filled with hot boys and hot women and incredible drugs and alcohol, often provided by the frat's favorite alumni.
They were invited back, and were special additions since they had gone out into the world, gotten older and hotter, and made enough money to help fund the substances into the frat. Rumor had it there would be plenty of those tonight.
The boys there would be a bit older already, but she might even meet an older man.
She was so sexy she scarcely looked like herself, and, vain as it was, was it weird she was kind of turned on?
Her dark lipstick brought out a seductive, mature element to her face, one she usually softened with light blush and lip-gloss and an innocent, dumb look, but tonight, she had calculations in store.
She could only imagined the excited squealing of her friends as she walked up and they realized up close that the hottie from afar was her. She was already tingling in excitement for tonight, barely able to keep from sticking a hand down her pants, but she waved to wait and save this energy for the lucky fellows tonight. She wanted action.
She grabbed her spiderweb tote bag, packed for the party, then turned to her closet, slipping out her secondary, and her secondary, most important costume.
Her heels were loud going down the wooden stairs, and she almost regretted not packing some slippers to wear out the house, but it would be too much of a pain to shove her big platform heels into her tote and hide them.
"Hey, Lizzie," her stepfather but dad in all ways but blood, called when she was in sight, looking up from his seat at the table, where he was untying a tennis shoe. He must have just come home from somewhere.
Her ride would be here soon, and she was in a rush to get past him, so she would ask about the Halloween Spirit bag beside him later. Maybe some last-minute candy or decor.
"Hi, Dad." He was freshly shaved, his salt-and-pepper hair neat and trimmed, his defined jawline emphasized. The neat stubble looked very nice on him.
"'Bout ready to leave?"
"Yep."
"Have fun tonight, but not too much fun. I'm gonna go hit the pub with my old college buddies. If you need a ride, Uber's your man, not me. Be fun, be safe, use a con..." He sat up and trailed off when she neared the table, scanning her simple, soft set of long-sleeved full-length Jack Skellington pajamas, and she stopped under his gaze.
His eyes flickered to her chest, and despite the comfortable, over-sized pajamas, she worried he would suspect something more was up underneath, because her boobs had to be a bit more defined than usual. But he shook his head a little, as if erasing it from his brain.
"Oh. Comfortable this year." A hint of disappointment was evident, and his eyebrows furrowed, like even he was surprised to hear it from himself.
Surprise ran through her at the possible implication, especially paired with the glance at her boobs.
She slowed in her path, pretending there wasn't an instinct in the back of her head to draw out the attention of this handsome silver fox.
"It's cute, of course, but you spent so much time shopping. I--kind of expected you to go all out." And he forced a good-meaning laugh.
If only he knew how she was really dressed! She'd even messed up her hair a little (she had a brush in her bag) and removed the headband.
She covered up to avoid any anger, though she was a legal adult, but--would he look even longer than he looked before? Had he daydreamed what her final outfit would be, and would he be impressed at how she knocked expectations out of the park?
Or maybe he had his imagination conjuring something even more minuscule.
He could give her feedback from his gaze as a man, not as a dad. Give her advice on what to drop... maybe those panties so she was just in fishnets. Or maybe he would want just the bra and the panties, and rectify the problem, slowly pry off those bothersome fishnets covering so much sensitive skin on her legs and thighs...
The daydream ended with a jolt. This was her father.
What was she thinking? What would people say?
"Yeah, the party's really chill this year," Elizabeth lied, slipping behind him to chug some water from the sink with a hand and to grab the keys from the counter, part of her slyly aware his gaze followed her. "The vibe is more close friend group and scary movies and popcorn. So we're just coming in pajamas."
"Fun. God knows I never just watched movies with friends this time of year at your age. What's with the mask?" A disposable black one laid on the bottom half of her face.
"Angeline's grandma is visiting, so it's a formality when we're not eating. Just so she feels a little safer 'cause she's old and stuff."
"Gotcha. Well, have fun, kid." He hugged her close, his chest warm and large and comforting, and she buried her face in it, noticing the largeness of his hands on her back for reasons she couldn't explain.
The feeling of protection and love was so encompassing and alluring. The usual comforting type grip that glued them together now smashed her erect breasts again his lower chest, and he let go quickly, clearing his throat as he stepped away.
She found her gaze lingering on him curiously before she left the porch, noticing how he hadn't looked her in the eyes, face averted towards the floor. And instead of waving her off, he was busying himself digging through the Halloween bag, like he was desperate to look busy and avoid her.
