Dropping Her Mask

As always, I appreciate any and all constructive feedback.

Let me know what you liked and what didn't work.
(though I'd also appreciate any votes you want to give as I've entered this in the 2017 Halloween story contest)

****

"Who the hell is Lady Blackhawk?" Amanda asked holding up a black boot.

"She's cute and badass, what else matters?" Claire told her friend, handing her the other boot.

"You said you had a superhero costume I could borrow!" Amanda said, clearly unimpressed.

"She is a superhero!" Claire assured her, handing her friend a dark blue skirt.

"But... she doesn't even wear a mask!" Amanda complained.

"Do you want to come to the Halloween party or not?" Claire asked.

Both women were in their second year of college, though the brunette Amanda had only recently gotten to know Claire and her friends in an "acting for nonmajors" class. She had a lot of fun with them during a masks assignment the week before, and they invited her out for drinks after class. It went well. So well that they asked her to join their ensemble at a Halloween costume party that weekend.

Claire and a couple of the other girls were cosplayers and had coordinated their costumes to be a team of female superheroes. She had offered Amanda the use of one of her older costumes, one she had worn to a comic convention a few years back, a lesser known character that, as luck would have it, was on the team.

"Not all superheroes wear masks, y'know," Claire explained as she handed her friend a tunic with a bird logo on it. Presumably the Blackhawk part of Lady Blackhawk.

"But..." Amanda tried to articulate her objection but couldn't find the words.

Just taking the acting class had been a pretty bold move for the usually timid coed. Her now ex-boyfriend had encouraged her to sign up, to get her out of her shell a bit more. Agreeing to dress up in public had been another big step for Amanda, but Claire didn't know any of this. She assumed Amanda was as extroverted as she was and couldn't understand what the issue was.

Amanda had been planning on wearing a mask. She had been counting on it in fact, as she had discovered how freeing it was to wear one. She had been able to get through an entire monologue in front of 30 people behind the safety of a Greek mask. She had thought a Halloween party would enable her to "get out there" like everyone kept telling her to do, while giving her a sense of security or at least anonymity.

"What powers does she have?" Amanda asked.

"She blonde and hot," Claire said, handing her a blonde wig and a hat. "Beyond that, I really don't know."

"Why don't I just be Catwoman," Amanda suggested quickly. She had cat ears from last Halloween when her ex had dragged her to one of his buddy's parties. If she combined that with a mask and some black clothes it wouldn't be a great costume but it would be passable.

"What? No. Betsy and I worked hard on this outfit for you." Claire said, slightly offended. Amanda was 5 foot ten, much taller than she was so Betsy and Claire had spent the previous evening altering the outfit so it would fit their tall new friend. "Besides, Catwoman wouldn't fit in. We're the Birds of Prey."

"You say that as if I should know what that means." Amanda countered.

"It's a group, a team of kickass women," Claire explained. "It doesn't really matter, you're going to look amazing."

"But who's even heard of Lady Blackhawk? What I'm going to look like, is an idiot." Amanda was genuinely worried her outfit would mean as little to everyone else as it did to her. "Why don't I go as Wonder Woman. I mean, my hair is black anyway."

"Oh no. I'm not gonna go through that again. 6 girls all arguing who gets to be Wonder Woman and who gets to be Supergirl." Claire told her, "Nope. Not going to happen. It's this or nothing. I don't have another costume that will fit you."

"But who will even know who I am?"

"Who knows half the costumes people wear? We'll know, and the guys at the party will just love how hot you look, regardless of which character you are."

Amanda pondered that. It made sense, but she just wasn't totally convinced. "Maybe if I knew more about the character."

"Great idea, take the outfit, Google it, be ready for the weekend. I have to get to class" Claire pushed her friend out of her dorm room and into the hallway of the residence. As Claire headed off to her physics class, Amanda pulled out her phone and still holding the various bits of the costume, awkwardly started looking up "L-A-D-Y B-L-A-C-K..."

A long list of entries came up, the first being Wikipedia. The images she saw confirmed she was reading about the right character, but the text referred to three different ones. One was called Zinda! What kind of a name is that? Amanda thought. This comic book stuff didn't make any sense to her. She put her phone away and tried to think of someone she could just ask. And then It hit her. Mitch! She knew a guy who lived in this residence that read comics. He could probably explain this.

She found the stairs and made her way up a flight trying to recall which room was his. She had met him during frosh week the previous year and had hung out with a couple of times in a group on various pub nights. One had begun with "pre-drinks" in his room, so she was relatively confident she could find it.

A few moments later, she knocked on a door she was fairly certain was his. An overweight "not Mitch" answered the door and eyed her up and down. Her legs were covered by her jeans, but he was clearly impressed by the way her t-shirt curved at her chest. "Hell-o." He exclaimed.

"Um, Sorry. I'm looking for Mitch. Do you know him by chance?" She asked.

"Yeah. Hang on." Not Mitch stepped past her and knocked on the next door over.

"What?" Mitch yelled from inside.

"Make yourself pretty, you have a visitor." Not Mitch yelled as he opened the door. Amanda looked in to see Mitch watching TV, using his bed as a couch, table and general hang out spot, as only a college student could.

He looked up and immediately tried to straighten up the messy blankets beneath him before he stood up. "Amanda? What are, How are you?"

"You read comic books, right? Have you got a second to answer a couple of questions.?" She asked.

"Sure, yeah, come on in." he invited her. Amanda stepped inside and turned to Not Mitch, "Thanks."

Not Mitch nodded and began to close the door to give the pair some privacy. Before the door was completely closed and while Amanda's back was to him, he made eye contact with Mitch and mouthed the words, "Oh My God."

Whatever Amanda wanted, Mitch knew his reputation amongst the guys on this floor had just jumped considerably.

"What's, uummm, what's up?" He asked nervously. He looked around the room, it was a mess but not disgustingly so. Some clothes on the floor, his desk covered in notebooks, the chair being used to hold a stack of comic books. He moved the comics to the desk and offered her a seat.

"No thanks, I won't bug you for long. I just...have you ever heard of the character Lady Blackhawk?" she asked.

"Pre-crisis or post-crisis version?" He asked without thinking.

"Um...I don't know what that means." Amanda admitted.

Mitch kicked himself. He'd been reading comics since he was a kid, but even though they were pretty mainstream nowadays, the nerdy comic book guy stereotype always loomed large over him. Mitch was fit, didn't wear glasses and wasn't at all "nerdy", but comic talk and girls rarely went hand in hand, so as a rule, he tried to avoid mixing the two. He was awkward enough around women, insecure mainly due to his height. He was barely 5 foot 5. To have reflexively began getting into the convoluted history of DC comics was not exactly the best way to impress a woman, let alone one as pretty as Amanda.

"Sorry. Yes, I know the character." He answered.

"Thank God." Amanda's relief was obvious. "Is she...cool? I mean, is it a good character to dress up as?" she held up the costume to show him, though folded over her arms as it was he didn't see much of it.

"Yeah, totally. She's was a female fighter pilot back in the 50s, when women weren't really respected for such things." He explained. "Her whole origin is basically proving she's as good, if not better than the men in the Blackhawk squadron."

"That's kinda neat," Amanda said.

"Even if you don't know the character, she's got a great design," he reassured her. "The logo and the hat are a pretty unique look."

"I guess, I haven't really tried it on yet " She admitted.

"You gotta. You can try it on right here if you want" He offered.

She looked around his one-room dorm room. There was no privacy what so ever and she was not going to just change in front of him! Before she said anything, he realized she hadn't fully understood his offer.

"I meant, I'll wait out in the hall while you change," he explained.

She laughed in relief. Even though she would never have done it, the very idea of taking her clothes off in front of him had sent her heartbeat racing.

"You try it on and see how badass the character is. I'll wait outside." He told her as he stepped out of the room.

Amanda looked around the room. It was odd being in someone else's bedroom. Even with their permission, it felt like an invasion of privacy. She saw the posters on his walls. A band she hadn't heard of, a movie she hadn't seen and a drawing of a superhero she didn't recognize.

Her eyes continued to roam the room, as she put the costume down on the desk chair. The cover of the comic at the top of the stack had a woman in a form-fitting body suit, her back to the reader but her body twisted enough to be displaying both her butt and her large breasts. The arch of her back was completely unrealistic, but she could understand the visual appeal. She looked down at her own chest, it wasn't nearly as large, but she quite liked how perky they were.

She pulled off her t-shirt and began to unbutton her jeans. They were tight at her hips, so she had to wiggle a bit to get them to slide down her long legs. She stepped out of her jeans and threw them on top of her t-shirt, which she had placed on his bed, right where it met his desk. She saw a box of tissues in the edge of his desk. She hadn't fully registered it before, but standing in just her bra and panties she made a connection.

It was very likely Mitch had placed the box there because he would be able to reach them from both the computer on his desk and his bed, the two most likely places he would masturbate. She giggled to herself, thinking her deductive reasoning was a lot like Batman. (She had, of course, seen enough Batman films over the years to know he was a detective.)

Amanda's mind began to wander. Wondering what, or more specifically who, Mitch thought about when he touched himself. He was cute, shorter than she was, but good looking enough that she didn't mind the few inches she had on him. Had he ever thought about her? She wondered. She hadn't been single when they had met, but that wouldn't have stopped a guy from thinking about it. She began to wonder what Mitch would think if she lay on his bed and touched herself while he waited in the hall.

Amanda dismissed the very thought as soon as it entered her mind. Even if the door was locked, which it wasn't, and even if Mitch would never find out, she wasn't the sort of girl who did such things. It was exciting to think about from time to time, but this was not an appropriate time.

She picked up the costume and wrapped the skirt around her waist. It came to her mid-thigh, a lot shorter than the much more conservative style she would normally wear. The top was a military tunic, kinda like a leather jacket, but a large flap up the center and buttons on both sides of the flap. It was very distinct and had sort of a 1940s look and feel to it, though the large bird logo on her chest was very modern. She did up the buttons, the jacket a bit tight at her bust but not uncomfortably so.

She sat on the bed and pulled on the black boots. The two-inch heels would make her stand nearly 6 feet tall, and they felt very sexy as she zipped them up.

The thought of masturbating on his bed dashed across her mind once more, but rather than entertain it she stood up and grabbed the blonde wig. She put it on her head and began tucking her black hair under it so only the blonde, shoulder length hair could be seen. She peeked into Mitch's mirror to ensure her actual hair was completely hidden and made a double take when she realized what she looked like. She snatched the military cap to complete her ensemble, and resumed staring at her own reflection.

She didn't see Amanda at all, she saw a completely different woman. This one was very different. Not only was she taller and blonde, but she was tough. And sexy. This woman, whoever she was, not only knew she was sexy, she knew how to take care of herself and wouldn't take shit from anyone. Amanda liked how it felt.

Maybe it was the military look of the uniform, maybe it was the different color hair, or maybe it was the combination of everything but she felt like a new woman. It was exactly like wearing the Greek mask in her acting class, it was freeing and empowering. She felt so much better than Amanda ever did.

She walked over to the door and opened it. "What do you think?"

She stood in the doorway, her arms open, her legs crossed at the ankles giving him a clear view of her entire body.

Mitch looked up from the game on his phone and nearly dropped it. Amanda was a very attractive woman, but right now she was something out of a wet dream. She was dressed sexily, talking to him and in his bedroom.

"I..." He stammered. "Wow. You look, wow!"

She backed up to let him back into his room and in a daze, he followed her in.

"Am I Lady Blackhawk?" She asked, giving him a quick spin.

"Yeah, you nailed it." He told her.

"And you don't think the skirt is too short?" She asked.

"No, if anything... yeah it's good." He told her.

"If anything?" She asked.

"No, nothing you look amazing." He assured her.

"Mitch." She said unwilling to let it go. She put her hands on her hips and firmly asked, "What were you going to say?"

"Just that, a lot of artists draw her with an even shorter skirt than that, is all." He admitted. "But that's, y'know, just how comics are drawn."

She nodded slightly pondering what he had said.

"Step outside again." She told him, gently pushing him towards the door. Without thinking he complied. As she shut the door, he began to worry that he had offended her. He was trying to think of how best to apologize when he heard her call out. "Mitch, come back in."

He was confused. There was no way she could have changed back into her jeans and t-shirt that quickly. He reached for the doorknob and before he could open it, he heard her call out again. This time a bit playfully, "Oh Mi-itch."

He swung the door open and saw she had adjusted the frilled skirt. It was shorter. Much shorter. She was exposing a lot more leg, to the point that the skirt was just barely covering her panties.

"Better?" She asked, her hands on her hips, and her weight on one foot so her stance empathized her hips.

He nodded, unable to speak.

"It's not too short now, is it?" She asked, teasing him. He tried to form words but was having issues. He wasn't the kind of guy that this sort of thing happened to, not that he knew what was happening.

"Too short?" He repeated the question back to her.

"Yeah, I mean, would you ever see something like this in a comic?" She turned her back to him, bent over slightly and twisted her head to look at him as she arched her back. It was as close to the pose she had seen on his comic as she could manage. She smiled, knowing it had to be giving him a glimpse of her panties.

"Um, yeah. Totally." He managed.

"What about this." She bent a bit more at the waist so her skirt rose even higher, giving him a much better look at her panty covered bottom. Amanda didn't ever act like this, but she wasn't exactly feeling like herself at the moment.

"Nuh, not really." He forced himself to say. "They wouldn't let an artist draw that much of her, um, panties, exposed."

"No?" She pretended to be disappointed. "Well, then I imagine they wouldn't allow this sort of thing either then..."

She turned back around so she was facing him and reached down, dropping her head as she took hold of the front of her skirt at the hem. She looked back up, her eyes wide and innocent as she lifted it, exposing the front of her panties to him completely.

Mitch shook his head slightly, wanting to answer her but not wanting to break the moment.

"No, I can't imagine a superheroine would ever have a camel toe like this." She told him, as she held up her skirt with one hand and used a finger on the other hand to trace the outline of her feminine lips. "I suppose they if they wouldn't show strong, independent woman's panties... then they wouldn't even hint at her pussy."

"No, I...I guess not." Mitch agreed, his eyes focused on her finger as it lazily drew up and down her lips, through her panties.

"Well, if I'm Lady Blackhawk, then I'd better not be showing anything inappropriate then," she told him. Mitch watched as she reached under her skirt with both hands and removed her panties altogether. Her skirt fell as she pulled them down, so he wasn't able to get a peek at her cunnie, but not for lack of trying!

She stepped out of her panties, leaving them on his floor and turned her back to him once more. Mitch's eyes widened as she bent over, her skirt rising up and exposing the lower half of her ass.

"That's better right? No inappropriate panties now." She teased. He nodded, enjoying the view. Her tall black boots, her long legs, her well-toned ass. His cock throbbed in his jeans, hard as a rock.

"Oops!" Amanda said as her hat fell off her head and tumbled to the ground. She leaned over at the waist to pick it up, giving him a flash of her full ass and just a peek of her bare pussy before she stood back up. She put a hand to her mouth as if she had just realized what she had done. "Oh, my." She said, "You weren't supposed to see that!"

She turned to face him. "I'd apologize, but I think you liked it." She raised an eyebrow as she eyed the bulge in his pants. She liked seeing how much of an effect she had on him.

He watched as she approached him. His heart racing as she put a hand on his chest, delicately tracing the logo on his shirt with the same finger that she had been touching herself with just moments before. "I think you liked looking under my skirt. Seeing my bottom. My pussy."

He nodded silently.

"Mitch. Can I ask you a question?" She asked, her finger starting to work its way down his chest.

"Sh, sure." He said. The pair's eyes locked. Her natural height plus the heels put her several inches higher than him.

"Why do they say guys get an erection? I mean, I know you've got an erection right now..." her fingers found the top of his jeans, and she slid her fingertips under the waistband of his boxers. "But it's for me, right?"

Mitch gasped as her fingers brushed his pubic hair, his eyes still staring at her. "So shouldn't we say I get your erection?"

He nodded silently. Her fingers just barely brushing his shaft as she removed her hand from his pants. She whispered "Can I have it? Can I have the erection that's for me?"

She stepped back, just out of arm's reach and broke eye contact, her gaze dropping to his crotch. "Let me see it."

Mitch nervously began to unzip his jeans. He looked down at his hands, too scared to look at her as he pushed his jeans down and to the floor. His hard cock pressed against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He looked up, and with that lovely finger of hers, she signaled him to drop his underwear. Mitch complied, making and then immediately breaking eye contact with her as he exposed his dick to her.