Stay as Hank

Wendell eyeballed the cum leaking from Stacy's skin.

Ugh.

He dropped her and she fell to the ground with a wet slap. He started pulling up his pants. He zipped up his fly and looked down. The cum congealing on Stacy's dress was gonna be a bit of an issue. He took some nearby orange oak leaves, and wiped it away. There was definitely going to be a stain back there.

Maybe nobody will tell her?

He folded up Stacy, tucked her up under his arm and casually strolled back to his, well Hank's, driver side door.

I FORGOT TO PULL UP HANK'S FACE!

Wendell let Stacy drop to the ground again and in a panic stretched Hank's face back over his own. Nobody was around and it was dark out.

I guess I'm ok.

Wendell picked up Stacy, climbed into the driver's seat and unrolled her into the passenger seat as best he could.

Forgot her headdress...does sex always make you this forgetful? Or panic? Or both?

It was too dark to go back and look, so he said to hell with it. He brushed off some leaves from Stacy and shot her with the raygun. A hiss and some minor pops later and a groggy Stacy was sitting in the passenger seat.

"Ugh, what happened? How did I get back in the truck?"

"I carried you. You fainted. You ok?" Wendell did his best concerned act, but he had serious doubts a jerk like Hank would ever act concerned.

Then again, never thought he'd lick up cum either.

"Yeah, I feel fine. You must've really...rocked my world this time...I guess..." She was now totally lucid and completly as she was before, just missing the last few seconds of memory, or perhaps she remembered it all, and thought she imagined it. Wendell couldn't tell eiher way.

"Uh...yeah..."

"Shit. Did I forget my headdress? Damnit." Stacy seemed no worse for wear. Wendell not knowing what else to say, simply started the truck and pulled off quietly into the night.

The party was packed with people. It was the private home of a student and sat just off campus. By Wendell's low standards a home like this was palatial, but really it was at the low end of upper class homes. People milled about holding cigarettes, solo cups, and beer cans all while a heavy beat played. There was everything from witches to Frankensteins, Draculas to cowboys, and to Wendell's amusement, even a female Abe Lincoln in a shoddy beard.

"Hank The TANK! What's goin' on buddy?" It was Guy Hamm again, yelling over the music. He was wearing sunglasses...indoors...at night.

"Uhh...ju-" Wendell struggled to think like Hank. "Just looking for the...Brewskis...hoss."

"Yeah," Guy said scrutinizing Hank's face. "Keg's back there." He looked to Stacy, "Hey Stacy," he said lightly. "Uh..before you walk off, either of you two seen Wendell?"

Why the hell is asking about me?

"Naw bro," Wendell imitated Hank.

"Who? Oh that little guy? Yeah...no I haven't...or did I...." Stacy trailed off.

"Damn," Guy said yanking off his shades. "He told me he was coming."

"Why do you like that...uhh fag? Anyway Guy?" yet again a poor imitation of Hank.

"You got the the flu or something? Never mind. And, I like everybody and I want everybody to have a good time, ok? Don't pick on people you lug. Wendell's ok, he's just a bit of a dork."

I really want to hate him. God.

"Well, you two have a good time! I gotta arrange a game of twister with two lovely laidies from the beauticians school." With that Guy flick his shades back on and danced away towards the crowd. He did end up throwing an arm around two gorgeous women, that Wendell had never see before.

Well, he probably doesn't want to fuck me. Then again...

"Get your head out of the clouds and get us some drinks you dork!" Stacy cheered out over the music and smiled dancing around Wendell.

"Ok, ok." Wendell pushed his way through a horde of costumed party-goers. Not a difficult task with Hanks, big heavy frame. He grabbed two solo cups and filled them up with beer at the keg, and pushed back to Stacy.

Stacy flowed and twisted with the music right on the beat. He small, but jiggling breasts caught Wendell's eyes. "Good boy," she said mockingly, taking her plastic cup of beer. She took a long big gulp and resumed shaking to the beat, less agressively this time to avoid spilling her beer. Wendell watched her dance, and then something caught Stacy's eye. "Oh shit...don't look. Let's move..."

"What?" Wendell turned to look and saw no one he recognized.

"Francis, you dolt. He's the Dracula, right over there. Let's go before he sees us makes a scene. You know how he is."

A very flat-chested slim, woman whipped her hips back and forth not 20ft away dressed as Dracula with long slicked by hair, heavy mascara and eye shadow, and sporting a tight vest with no undershirt for her costume. She shook to rhythm just as well as Stacy, perhaps better.

She said he though...oh.

It was hands down the most feminine man that Wendell had ever seen. "Why are we worried about Francis? Guy's like 100lbs tops."

"Did you're brain rot while I wasn't looking? Because he's your," Stacy looked around got much, much quieter and much, much closer. "He's your fucking ex and he's loud and possessive..."

God, Stacy swears a lot...OH, Hank is fucking gay!? Wait, but sleeps with Stacy...oh he's one of those. Huh...

"Too late," Stacy groaned turning away. Indeed the Dracula was gliding this way, with a surprising grace. Wendell wasn't sure what to make of him.

"Oh. Wipe that look off your face, I'm not gonna ruin your night or your....reputation....mr. tough guy." Francis glanced between Wendell and Stacy, and an awkward silence pervaded between the three of them, though Stacy wasn't even facing Francis. Stacy took a long, long swig of her beer. "So, you seem to be doing well? Everthing fun in Full Tank Hank land?"

"Uhh...Yeah. It's uh..." The full makeup and slender body in combination with such a masculine voice made it very hard for Wendell to focus. He was too busy trying study

"Well...Bye then." Francis daintily shook hands with Wendell. He glanced once more at Stacy, this time with an obvious hint of anger, and then, with a whip of his cape, the dracula was gone...but he'd left something in Wendell's hand. A note, reading:

Ditch her and meet me upstairs. You know you miss this-

Wendell looked long and hard at the note.

"Thank god he's fucking gone, and he didn't grab you this time. I need another drink...babe?" Stacy turned Wendell around with a hand on the shoulder.

Francis...feminine Francis...sexy Francis?