She stood by the roadside, shivering from the cold and sheer fury. She was on the brink of tears, and to top it all off, her mobile showed absolutely no signal. For a hot second, she even considered trying to change the blasted flat tyre herself, but the sight of her standing there in flimsy, ridiculous green dress, forest-green face, and absurdly expensive green stilettos was a real mood-killer. The only thing that could make this night worse was ruining her shoes and dress.
She leaned against her silver Toyota RAV4, desperately trying to flag down a car. In a whole hour, only two had driven by, and not a single one had even thought about slowing down. They whizzed past with a blare of their horns, nearly sending her scrambling to the ditch.
She couldn’t really blame them, though. A lone woman dressed like a woodland faerie on an empty road was practically screaming “trap.” If only she’d brought a cloak or jacket, she wouldn’t be freezing, but she’d foolishly trusted her car to get her to her sister’s Halloween party with zero backup plan.
In the distance, she finally saw two approaching headlights. Her chances felt slim to none, but she planted herself in the road, tired and defiant, ready to force the driver to stop. She waved both arms about, making herself impossible to miss, and finally saw the car slow. Behind the wheel was a bloke who looked like he might actually know what to do with a flat tyre. She smiled and kept waving.
But he didn’t stop.
He zipped past her, and as she dodged to the side again, she felt her stiletto snap. Fucking brilliant, she thought. There go the five-hundred-dollar heels—straight into the bin.
She leaned against the car, balancing on one foot with the broken heel clutched in her hand, desperately assessing the damage. Maybe they could be fixed, but they’d never be five hundred bucks’ worth again. Tears stung her eyes, and that only pissed her off more. Was she really so pathetic she’d cry over a pair of fucking shoes?
She didn’t even notice another car approaching until it was almost on her. The idiot had his high beams on, blinding her. She raised her hand—the one clutching the shoe with its sad, limp heel that looked like a flaccid dick—to shield her face.
To her surprise, the car actually stopped. It was a dark SUV, bigger than hers, pulling up just ahead of her car. Nothing happened at first—he might’ve been considering driving off, and that wasn’t something she’d allow. She took a step forward, nearly tripped, and ended up ditching her other shoe too, stumbling toward the SUV with a heel in each hand. Before she reached it, the driver switched his high beams to low and flicked on his hazards, finally cracking the door open.
She halted, waiting.
In the glow of her own headlights, she saw a man with an oddly twisted face. She startled, instinctively backing up, half-thinking she should dive back into her car and lock herself in.
But he took a few steps toward her, and she sighed with relief as she realised he was wearing a mask. And then she recognised it, grinning to herself—Venom, one of her favourite films.
“Evening, Beauty,” he said, his voice low and pleasant, with that young, confident tone. He was tall, lean, and carried himself with a swagger. Clearly, “Beauty” was his way of nodding at her forest fairy getup.
“Well, hello, Beast,” she shot back, matching his tone.
He grinned.
“Is there something wrong with your car, or are you just happy to see me?”
His tone was flirtatious but playfully so, stopping a comfortable six feet away to show he meant no harm. That was considerate.
“Can I think it over? Right now, I’d say a bit of both,” Beauty laughed.
“Sounds like a fair deal,” he smiled back. His flashlight clicked on, and he directed it at her car. The beam quickly settled on the flat tyre.
“And here I was hoping it’d be the latter,” he smirked, stepping closer to inspect the tyre. Without looking up, he asked, “Any chance you’ve got a spare in the boot?”
“There’s always a chance, but honestly, your guess is as good as mine. Not exactly a car girl here.”
He chuckled.
“Not necessarily a bad thing. I know a few car girls, and there’s no way I’d want to see them in this adorable green dress.”
She laughed.
“Tell me, are you as handy with cars as you are with flirty lines?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he shot back. “Let’s find out. Mind popping the bonnet?”
As he leaned into her boot, he froze, and she knew exactly why. The tidy illusion of her car’s interior didn’t extend to the disaster zone in the back—half-drunk Coke cups, greasy bags with stray fries, and crumpled wrappers spilling every which way. Mortified, she rushed over, stuffing the rubbish into a grease-streaked paper bag.
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.
Just then, she noticed him lean in closer, close enough to catch the scent of her hair. Instead of being weird, it was electrifying. A shiver ran through her as she realised she could smell his cologne. She turned, and his face, cloaked in that dark mask with its menacing grin and exaggerated fangs, was only inches away. His black eyes locked onto hers, intense and unblinking.
It was one of those moments—when the air between you practically crackles, thick with anticipation. That feeling where you know, without a doubt, that a kiss is in the cards. The raw, magnetic pull was almost too strong to resist.
He must’ve felt it too. But he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he took a step back, as if to shake off the tension, and reached into her boot, pulling out an old plastic bag from who-knows-where. Silently, he began to help her scoop up the mess, his hands moving quickly, almost too quickly, like he was escaping the charge that had just passed between them. It was a little too smooth, a little too distant.
Maybe he’s married, she thought, feeling a pang of frustration.
What do you even know about him? she reminded herself. He’s just Beast. Just Venom. That’s all he is. If he could fix her car, she’d be on her way. Anything more? She couldn’t afford to wish for it.
When most of the mess was finally stashed away in bags by her feet, Beast lifted the mat, and to her relief, there it was—the spare tyre. But he had no luck hunting down any tools, so without a word, he headed back to his car and fetched his own.
There she stood, barefoot and shivering, watching him change the tyre on her little Toyota. He looked so rugged, all masculine force, as he worked the jack, then rolled the flat tyre off the car and away. The fact that she couldn’t fully see his face only added to his appeal, like some delicious mystery.
What on earth’s gotten into you? she scolded herself. This wasn’t her style, not by a long shot. She wasn’t the type who went for random flings with strangers. She needed to know a man, needed a connection—a spark—before she could even begin to relax. Without that, it was just sweaty, hollow motions with nothing real behind them.
“You’re a real gallant, stopping for me,” Beauty said, trying to nudge her thoughts somewhere more sensible. “All the other cars just kept whizzing by, and if they didn’t honk, I wouldn’t even have known they’d seen me.”
“These days, pulling over to help a girl in trouble on a deserted road is a bit of a risk,” he replied.
“But you don’t seem scared,” she smiled, a playful glint in her eye.
He turned his gaze to her. His dark eyes glowed with something intense, and she half-expected him to say something, but he didn’t. He just looked at her. A shiver rippled down her spine, and this time it wasn’t from the cold. And it certainly wasn’t fear. There was something electric crackling between them; he had to feel it too.
He handed her the flashlight. “Hold it steady, right here.”
She did as he asked, and with the light on him, she took in every detail. His hands were dark, so he was black. She also noted he wasn’t wearing any ring.
It was odd, but despite living in Mississippi—or maybe because of it—she’d never even thought about dating a black man. But was there truth to the rumours about black men and their… endowments? Not that she’d ever bothered to check online—porn wasn’t really her thing.
She tilted the flashlight to see his face more clearly, but his eyes stayed fixed on the tyre, which he was swapping out with effortless skill. Not a hint of emotion.
She realised she was more than a little aroused. And, God help her, it was laughable. She was a walking cliché—a white damsel in distress, and here he was, this strong, silent black man come to her rescue. That neither could fully see the other’s face only amplified the mystery. Double the stranger, double the thrill.
Her favourite sort of forbidden fantasy.
Once the tyre was on, he straightened up and took the flashlight from her. He looked at her again, and she suddenly knew that nothing was going to happen tonight. A wave of relief washed over her, tinged with a little disappointment.
“Thank you,” Beauty said, her voice soft.
“Sorry,” he replied.
That threw her. “What are you apologising for?”
He kept his gaze on her, eyes so dark they nearly disappeared in the night, yet she could feel him watching.
“For this,” he murmured, stepping closer.
He reached out and brushed her cheek gently. She stayed perfectly still. Then he leaned down; he was at least a head taller than her. His lips hovered close, but he didn’t kiss her. He stopped halfway, giving her a chance to pull away, an opening to say no.
But “no” was the last thing on her mind.
She pulled him to her, grabbing the back of his neck, feeling how muscular he was and how his muscles tensed under her touch. His lips pressed against hers, just slightly open, pleasantly soft and incredibly desirable. She returned his kiss, but her mouth was hungry, she pushed her tongue conqueringly into his mouth and he acceded to her play. The initially cautious, gentle kiss graduated to a passionate one, she lost her balance and almost fell over, but he caught her.
He gently placed her on the front hood of her car. His big black hands were electric as he ran them over her forearms. She moaned softly. This obviously had an effect on him because he pressed himself against her and she felt his erection against her stomach.
She wanted to take him in her hand and caress him, wanted to feel how hard he was, but she would have to push him away from her and she wasn’t going to do that. Her hands went to his cheeks and squeezed, his arse was firm, he was obviously working out regularly.
She had never wanted it so badly in her life. She had never wanted sex so badly. As she held his bum, she pulled him close and he pressed against her body.
His tenderness was gone. He stopped stroking her hand and his big hands went between her thighs. She tilted her head, enjoying the rush of pleasure.
She realized again how light her dress was. But this time not because of the pervasive chill of the autumn evening, but because her hard nipples basically poked through the light fabric, it felt like she was naked with only a few glitters on her body.
The hard nipples drew his attention.
Finally.
With a gentle motion, he removed the fabric that was in his way and took her nipple into his mouth. And she pushed him away from her. But just a little, he kept playing with her nipple, but she finally reached his pants zipper, unzipped it with one hand, and pulled it out. He shivered under the touch of her cold hands, but didn’t flinch.
She tried to take him in her mouth, but he beat her to it. He put her on the hood, lifted her legs and pulled down her panties. Then he bent her legs and pulled her knees far apart and buried his face in her lap. His nose played with her clit while his tongue plunged deep into her open, wet pussy.
Lust took complete control of her.
“Fuck me, Beast,” she muttered.
“Not yet, Beauty,” came a husky voice, his lips never ceasing to tease her wet pussy as he did so.
With her hips, she came to meet him, while he caressed her with his lips and teased her with his tongue, going deeper or just teasing her on the surface again for a while, she came, all the while holding his head with the black mask, which was now pulled back a little so he could reach her with his mouth.
Her legs were shaking, but her arousal was not diminishing. On the contrary. He leaned over her, his black eyes boring into hers again. And then she finally felt his hard, big cock penetrating inside her vagina. As he took her, as he fucked her, she moaned and let go.
He fucked her hard. In the silence of the night there was a slapping sound as their two naked, sweaty, horny bodies bumped against each other.
She, an aroused Beauty, her moans permeated the night. He, Beast, black mask on black face, conquering the body of the damsel in distress. In the stories, though, the knight in shining armour didn’t usually wet himself, their pity, she thought with a smirk.
She felt herself nearing climax. Again.
And she could feel his gasps turning into grunts. Their copulatory movements, fully synchronized, sped up. He looked into her eyes as he did so, and she felt him smile. Then he came and held her, pinning her to the hood, crushing her with his balls, and she longed for him to crush her completely, for the moment not to end, for this to be the last.
Her cries of pleasure were long and full of moans, and he joined her, coughing and grunting, their shared climax topping off their desire.
They lay there tangled together for a while, both silent, both catching their breath. Then they met each other’s gaze—eyes wide open, maybe a little dazed, not quite sure how they’d ended up in such a delicious mess. Now here they were, standing face-to-face, neither of them wanting it to end, yet both knowing full well it would.
Before he could even ask for her number, she flashed him a sly smile. Leaning in, she planted a kiss on his lips, then gently pushed him back, slipping into the driver’s seat. He stood there watching as she swung the car around, foot heavy on the pedal as she sped off, hoping the urge to turn back and fall right back into his arms wouldn’t catch up with her too soon.
She realised she’d left more than a flat tyre and the scattered mess of her boot on that dark road. Her prized heels—expensive and wrecked—lay somewhere back there too. But despite it all, her lips, smeared with green lipstick, curled into a smile.
Don’t Ghost Me Now—Help Keep the Spooky Stories Alive with a Little Financial Boo-st!” 🎃👻
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