Man with a tash! The Adult Story Hub

Trick or Treat

Single chapter

Written by Kristen 

This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2001. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
By Saucy Wench (wenchsaucy@aol.com)

We knew we had found the right house when we saw all the cars parked along the street. We had to park a few houses away and walk back. There was a line of glowing candles in orange paper bags with jack o' lanterns printed on them leading up the driveway of the very large house.
The yard was full of cardboard tombstones. A scarecrow on the porch was sitting in a chair, stuffed full of leaves, from the look of it. One of those Halloween tapes, with screams and creaks and whatnot, played from an enormous carved pumpkin.
My friend Brandi was dressed as a witch. Long black gown, that came down to her ankles. Black heels, that made her look a lot taller than her 5 foot 5 inch height. A black pointed witch hat, that didn't hide her gorgeous long red hair, which went down to the small of her back. Her face was painted a Wicked Witch of the West green. And still managed to look pretty. Her eyes were a much prettier green. She's got a petite but shapely figure, with fairly large breasts for her size. What wasn't immediately obvious was that she wasn't wearing anything but a black bra and black panties beneath that gown.
I was her witch's Familiar... a black cat. Puss in boots. I wore a tight black leotard... black boots. A long black tail attached to my ass. Little cat ears in my hair. My face was painted blackface (Black cat black, not an Al Jolson impression!). Cat whiskers completed the picture.
I didn't have anything on beneath the leotard except a black pair of hose. I'm about Brandi's height, slim and petite, a pretty good figure, even if my breasts are a tad on the small size. But I more than make up for it with my pretty face and sparkling personality...and most of all, my modesty! I've got brown eyes and brown hair, a few inches down my shoulders.
We stood on the porch. "Remember our dare!" said Brandi. "A contest." I said. "Whoever can be the naughtiest." We rang the doorbell. I expected it might be like something out of THE ADDAMS FAMILY. No, just a doorbell.
"Welcome, ladies." said the scarecrow behind us. I jumped, and Brandi gave a little shriek. "What a hot little witch you are. And you, my dear, are a ravishing little pussy."
We turned. Now I could see the tall drink glass next to the chair. The scarecrow grinned.
The door opened. Strains of THE MONSTER MASH blared within. A couple greeted us. A hockey masked Jason, and a blonde woman dressed as a female pirate.
"Trick or treat!" we chimed. We were whisked inside. I wondered if Scarecrow had overheard us (and understood).
In the kitchen were snacks and a big bowl of Halloween punch, with a skull dipper. We were each quickly given a plastic cup of punch. And it had a little punch to it, too.
In the living room was dancing. In the family room other people in costumes sat on sofas and chairs. A large screen TV was showing AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON.
Out on the deck people were smoking. There was something very funny about these people in costumes and masks, puffing away. We continued our tour of the grounds. Signs pointed to the garage, MAD SCIENTIST'S LAB. Another pointed to the basement,
DUNGEON AND TORTURE CHAMBER.
The lab had a picnic table with a Frankenstein monster under a sheet on a slab.
Christmas lights were cleverly combined with some boxes and dials and things to give the impression of apparatus.
A blow up doll of a woman was tied to a loose door, resting at an angle against the wall.
A metal colander fitted on her head, and battery cables led to a similar cap on Frankenstein. Apparently some sort of brain transfer was in progress here.
As the norm with blow up dolls of women, her face had a surprised look on her face, accented by the perfect round "O" of her open mouth.
There was a bucket on the floor. People were playing bobbing for apples.
The participant had his hands tied behind him with a cloth. Hmmm, that had possibilities.
The stairway down to the basement dungeon was filled with cobwebs.
A Strobe light flashed.
Paper sheets had been made to look like stone walls.
A skeleton was chained to the wall. A female mannequin was tied upside down, hanging by her feet.
An assortment of other mannequins, male and female, were arranged in various predicaments, one in a noose off the ground, one on a table with a blade pendulum above it, which wasn't swinging at the moment. I gave it a shove to start it going again. Nobody else was down here at present. In terms of Halloween atmosphere, this party was dripping with it. I glanced at my watch. 9:30.
We returned upstairs, and hung out on the dance floor for awhile. I got a lot of appreciative looks from guys, and more than a few come-ons, usually with a pun about pussy or my tail. Eventually Brandi and I split up, with a secret grin at each other.

*** 10 O'CLOCK, BATHROOM BREAK *** (OR, PUTTING THE LID DOWN FOR LOVE)

I'd been dancing a while, and working up a sweat, before I found what I wanted. A woman in a devil's costume had been dancing alongside. She'd been making eyes at me, and I was pretty sure she wasn't just being friendly. I said "follow me" and went off to the kitchen to get another cup of punch. We chatted a bit, and she started talking about how hot I looked. She wasn't too bad herself, just a tad plump, but with a lovely face. We were in the dark hall now, by ourselves. A stairway led upstairs.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the stairs. "The devil made me do it," I teased. We looked around, found the furthest bedroom from the stairs. Went into the bathroom, and shut the door and locked it. Left the light out, but one of those nightlights that detects when it's dark provided a dim illumination. In fairly short order we were stripping down. She put the lid down on the toilet seat and sat me down on it.
Then kneeling, she pushed my legs wide apart and started licking me down there. I reached down and felt her big breasts, now free of the costume, as I stared down at the top of her head. Her tongue was like velvet, and it didn't take me long to come. I sat up, pushed her down onto the oval rug, and returned the favor.
We lay side by side, in a 69 position, although now I was the only one eating. She played with my pussy with her fingers, then stroked my ass, my back, my breasts, my tummy. After she came, we lay side by side on the rug snuggling close. At one point, the doorknob rattled. We froze, and it was not repeated. We sat up and held each other for a few minutes, taking turns sucking each other's breasts.
Which was nice, but the mood had been broken by that doorknob rattle; we felt exposed and vulnerable to discovery. We dressed and cleaned up. I cautiously opened the door. The room was dark.
I could hear sounds of passion coming from the bed. A couple, male and female, were having sex on the bed!
I motioned for her to be silent and we snuck out. I crawled on all fours as quietly as I could to keep from being discovered.
She followed suit. The girl on the bed was quite a moaner. It didn't sound like Brandi, but I risked a glance to make sure. No, blonde hair, definitely not her. We made the doorway in safety. They had locked it. But I turned the knob and caught the button as it released to avoid the loud click. We slipped out. For a second, I had an evil thought of leaving the door unlocked, so that somebody else might stumble in on them. But in the end I pushed the button and closed the door.
Halfway down the stairs, my new friend realized she'd left her pitchfork in the bathroom. Too late now! I wondered if they'd find it... and I also wondered if they were the ones who'd tried to open the bathroom door earlier. If so, they'd know somebody had snuck out during their lovemaking.
Feeling deliciously naughty, I parted company with Devil Woman, giving her a goodbye kiss on the stairs.

*** 10:30PM, LOVE IN A DARK CREVICE *** (OR, THAT'S NOT MY BELLY BUTTON...AND DON'T STOP!)

I went down into the basement.
A game was just starting. close to a dozen people were gathered in a circle. I sat down next to a Robin Hood.
I exchanged a glance with him, and gave him my best comehither look.
The lights were turned off. We sat huddled in a circle. The vague shadows of the skeleton and mannequins were eerie. They began playing that child's Halloween game, where they start passing around stuff. "The witch is dead, this is her head." Probably an extra mannequin's head. "The witch came to harm, this is her arm." And so forth, with increasingly goopy items, grapes for eyes, spaghetti for...whatever interior icky thing.
As I passed the item to Robin Hood, I let my fingers linger in his grip. And squeezed.
He soon got the message. I reached down and cupped the tight crotch of his tights. Things were going hard for him. His hand groped me in the dark, cupped my pussy through the leotard, then felt at my breasts (he missed the first time, almost poked me in the eye). I took his hand and pulled him out of the circle. We stood up and walked deeper into the Stygian blackness. Went through a side door deeper into the catacombs. There was a sheet up to block this area, but we ducked behind it.
Now we were in an area filled with boxes. We found a recessed spot and knelt down. Soon his lips were all over my face, nibbling my ears (my REAL ears, not the cat ears!), and my neck.
We groped in the dark, fumbling, knocking heads at one point, and had to stifle giggles, didn't want to disturb those in the next room.
He was reaching down the neckline of my leotard, past my breasts, down my tummy, all the way down to my cunny.
"Wait a second," I said, I didn't want him to stretch out the material. I removed my clothes, and he was doing the same. Soon we were both naked, he sitting Indian style, me sitting in his lap, legs wrapped around him. His cock stood up straight and proud, pinned between our tummies. His hands gripped me firm at my waist and lifted me, and I arched my back and threw back my head as he mouthed my breasts.
After awhile, he had me lay flat on my back pushed his head down between my legs and started to eat. Where the devil woman had so recently dined.
Twice in an hour, wow! After a bit of this, he was ready to go, and so was I. I got a condom from my boot (hey, some desperadoes carry a derringer there, whatever you need to be prepared), and slipped it on him.
I had to use his cigarette lighter for a second to make sure things were on right. I'm sure we made an interesting picture there in the flickering flame light, Robin Hood with his tights down and a hard on, petite little ol' me nude, my nipples hard as pencil erasers, my shaved cunt moist, my face blackened and with whiskers spirit gummed on, my cat ears in disarray. We were far enough back that I don't think anyone could see the lighter.
They were telling ghost stories out in the main room. I leaned back on the cold floor, and found an old blanket. Used that for a pillow and a bit of a ground covering. Wrapped us both up in it. Spread my legs wide, he knelt between them. I was quite damp, and he was soon pumping away in the dark. I clenched my lips to keep from crying out, didn't want to alert the next room. We rode each other in frenzied silence, a few grunts and gasps here and there, and the steady wet friction sound of a cock sawing in and out of a tight sopping pussy. Which sounded very loud in my ears, but I don't think could carry too far.
He tensed, and came, and I slammed my mouth to his to stifle any outburst. I didn't come outright, but from the two oral encounters I'd had, and his enthusiastic screwing, I was in a warm glow. With a few clumsy endearments, he got dressed and stumbled off. The ghost stories were continuing in the dark in the next room.
I lay back on the blanket, nude and feeling lewd and exposed in the cool darkness, playing lazily with my breasts. After a few minutes' rest I had my breath back and my heartbeat had stopped its hummingbird racing.
And, in my content glow there in the darkness, one of those weird, niggling thoughts came in, as they sometimes do. It was probably the spooky atmosphere.
And that Witch's game. I started thinking about a rather horrifying Ray Bradbury story, where that game is being played at a Halloween party, and when they turn on the lights, they find a grisly surprise... it's not a game. Silly, I know, but I started getting a little paranoid, wondering about Brandi. I mean, she *was* The Witch. I mean, I knew those items passed around were just grapes, spaghetti, etc. but I was somehow on edge. Maybe because I got worked up but didn't come during that little encounter.
Anyway, I started having this overpowering urge to check on Brandi, make sure she was OK. Wholly irrational, but, when you're in a dark basement hearing scary stories at a Halloween party, there it is.
As the saying goes, I don't believe in ghosts, but I don't cut through the graveyard alone at 3am. Anyway, soon it was completely ridiculous, I was near panicking. Maybe the audaciousness of what I was doing at this party was catching up with me. Anyway, I quickly dressed. I had to fumble for my cat ears and my boots. My whiskers seemed intact. I wish I had a light to make sure everything was on straight.
Oh well. As I started to roll up the blanket, my hand encountered the sticky used condom. With a mischievous smirk, I put it inside the blanket, wiped my hand dry on the blanket, rolled it up into a ball and threw it back where I found it. I stole out. The current ghost story was THE HOOK. The storyteller had a flashlight on her face, looking eerie.
All eyes were fixed on her. I darted around the sheet, trying not to make it ripple, then made for the stairs, I think unseen.

*** 11:00 O'CLOCK, BRANDI GETS WET *** (OR, BOFFING FOR APPLES IN BONDAGE)
I wandered into the garage/lab. To my relief, there was Brandi. There were maybe a half dozen people in here, about half of them women. They were playing bobbing for apples. Brandi was up, her witch hat over on the floor. A cloth tied her hands together behind her back. She stuck her head in the wide bucket, and came up sputtering and laughing, her green face makeup running a little bit, much to the hilarity of the others there. People were cheering her on.
She looked like she was having fun, and there was a mildly kinky bondage element here, but still, I was a little surprised, pretty tame stuff. I thought Brandi would be a little more adventurous. Maybe she wasn't up to the challenge. I wandered out again.

*** 11:30PM, HOW ABOUT A LITTLE FIRE, SCARECROW? *** (OR, SUCKING THE STRAW)

I pushed my way through the crowd, got another cup of punch. Someone pressed up behind me. I turned. It was the scarecrow, the one who had surprised us on the porch. "Hi there." he said. "How about a little fire, scarecrow?" I quipped.
He grinned back. "Isn't your friend supposed to say that? I was just about to leave the party. I thought you might want to walk me to my car." He looked me in the eye. Almost a challenge, or a dare. "OK." I said. He turned to go...I sauntered after him, strutting my stuff. My little cat tail swished after the movements of my ass. There was a whistle from someone in the kitchen (or was it a cat call?).
Outside in the cool air, we walked down the driveway, to the street. His car was about a half dozen cars away. The road dipped down to a ravine, and there were dark trees all around. No house immediately nearby. "You lied to me." I said. "That's not a car, it's a pickup truck." "Climb in" he said, "I want to talk with you." He seemed very sure of himself. I climbed in to the driver's side and slid across.
He followed and shut the door. The interior lights went out. He put his key in the ignition, and turned it enough so that he could turn on the radio.
"How about a goodnight kiss?" he said.
I slid across the seat and wrapped myself around him.
"Is that all you want?" I breathed into a French kiss. His tongue darted back at mine for a minute. He looked straight at me. "No, I'd like you to suck my cock good." he said. I was a little taken aback. Usually guys aren't quite so...well, cocksure.
They test the waters first. But, I decided to surprise him.
"Lean back," I said, as I slid down onto the seat. I unbuttoned his pants (button fly). His cock was already rock hard. I drew it out and started licking it. Fairly long and thick. Musky smell, but not unbearably so. As I moved up and down, I noticed a dark patch on his balls. It was discolored from his skin, and oddly, almost seemed to glow in the dim light from the dashboard lights.
"Wait a minute," I said, withdrawing my mouth. I reached beside the steering wheel and snapped on the overhead light. I wanted a closer look at this dick; he had something strange here, and I wasn't putting that in my mouth until I saw what it was.
It was a smear of green phosphorescent makeup! Looked like Brandi had been having a more interesting evening than I'd given her credit for!
"I have the oddest feeling you're seeing another girl" I said, "That little witch!"
He grinned. "She certainly gives great head." He cocked his head at me. "I asked her about you. She said you were ALMOST as good."
A challenge.
I knew he was playing around, but he grinned like he was in the catbird seat.
I dived back down to my meal, with renewed enthusiasm. Gripped the shaft with fingertips of both hands, playing him like a flute, put his bulb in my mouth and sucked and tongued greedily. Of course, what I hadn't taken into account was that Brandi had worked him not more than an hour ago. He was stone hard for a second go, but he could also keep from coming for a lot longer this time around.
I must have spent close to 25 minutes giving my full effort. My mouth was getting tired, and he had a smirk that was both in ecstasy and a bit knowing. He had me right where he wanted me, and he knew he could go for a duration. So he just sat back and enjoyed it.
At last, I felt him tensing, and knew he was about to shoot his load. He didn't give any verbal warning though. He must have figured, any friend of Brandi's....he pulsed, and I felt a hot jet spurt into my mouth.
Thick and salty.
His cock spasmed a half dozen more times, slower and less surge each time. He made little inarticulate groans like he was in pain. His hands clenched on my back, but he was gentleman enough not to grip my hair or hold my head down.
I dutifully gulped it all down. I continued holding him in my mouth as he softened.
I pressed my forehead against his genitals. Maybe I'd leave some black makeup to go with the green.
I withdrew and got my punch cup from the floor, downed it to get the taste out of my mouth. He leaned up against me for awhile, fondling me through my leotard, hands between my legs, then reaching down my neckline to play with my tits... he gently squeezed breast and nipple...
"You and your friend made this a better party then I ever thought possible." he said. "Damn! You two are GORGEOUS!" I grinned slyly and did my best Dorothy impression. "I think I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow! Come along, Toto!" I climbed over him and out of the truck. He waved goodbye, and watched my black silhouette head back to the house. I was almost back to the house before he turned on the ignition and headlights.
Two blowjobs in one evening may have left him in a daze. I hoped he drove safely...and wondered how long it would be before he remembered his pants weren't fastened up.
Hopefully before that stop at the convenience store... Then I told myself that was a silly thought, a guy dressed as a scarecrow was probably going straight home...
I got back in just as the grandfather clock was striking midnight. The dance floor was in a frenzy. "Unmask, unmask!" someone cried, grabbing me and drawing me close to him. I kissed him on the cheek (and wouldn't he be surprised if he knew where my lips had just been) and writhed away, towards the kitchen to get a refill. Of Punch, I mean.
I stopped in the bathroom to check my black cat makeup, and make sure my ears were on straight.

*** 12:00 O'CLOCK, ONE HOT LITTLE WITCH *** (OR, IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR, SHE CRIED MORE, MORE, MORE)

I wandered around looking for Brandi. The last place I'd seen her was in the garage. Naturally, that was the last place I looked. A Bobba Fett grabbed my arm, stopped me at the door.
"Private party, ma'am." I sidled up to him and put my mouth near his ear. "I'll make it worth your while, Bounty Hunter." I pressed up against him, then pushed past. Into an interesting little tableaux there in the Mad Scientist's lab.
Brandi was no longer bobbing for apples, but she was still on her knees, bobbing. She was facing away from me, down on all fours, still with heels on. Her pointed hat was still on the floor. Her black gown was now bunched up around her shoulders, exposing a lot of pale flesh there in the dimly, weirdly lit garage. She still had on her black bra and panties, but not, I suspected, for long.
A Klingon knelt beside her, and one hand was buried in her panties. His other hand was beneath her, seemingly working on a breast. She was facing a cowboy, who was sitting in a lawn chair, and from his positioning, she must have been admiring his belt buckle. Her head was in his lap, and his hands were playing in her red hair.
A man in a three piece suit stood a few feet away, arms folded, watching. Not sure what he was supposed to be. Maybe a lawyer for Halloween. He turned to look at me. I put my finger to my lips and grinned. Then faded back silently. Brandi appeared to be in good hands.
As I turned, I noticed the Klingon peeling off her panties. Her shapely exposed ass pointed towards the house. Her face being otherwise occupied, she didn't turn to look back at what was going on behind her.

*** 12:30am, I SHED MY CLOTHING IN THE SHED *** (OR, SOME SORT OF TIM ALLEN FANTASY)

Leaving the garage, I asked Bobba Fett if he wanted to come outside with me and watch me smoke.
His impassive mask considered me a minute, then he said, "Wait here." and darted into the garage. The changing of the guard, I suspect. A minute later, he was back, and propelled me through the kitchen out onto the deck. The smokers had all gone in. I wandered deeper into the yard, flung my head back, admiring the stars, and finally found a garden shed. We slipped in.
Inside, it was like an aisle of Home Depot. A weed whacker hung from the wall. A big riding mower was parked there. All sorts of other tools were about the place.
He started to remove his helmet. "No, Bobba. Leave your mask on." He paused a minute, obviously stymied, since what he had in mind probably involved his mouth running over me. Instead, he started groping me hard. I ran my hands over his outfit. After a few minutes of this, I slipped out of my boots and leotard. Bare naked in my black hose, it was a little chilly out here.
I got my last condom out. Then climbed up onto the mower and bent over the seat. He climbed onto the blade shield and in short order had his pants down and the condom on, and was doing me doggy style. Both hands reached around and each mauled a small breast. He squeezed my nipples hard, in time with his thrusts.
He rode me hard. The helmet bumped my head a few times. I pushed back, but my little ass was pinned to the seat with each thrust. I came shortly. He followed almost immediately.
He started to take off his helmet. I stopped him. "What's your name?" I asked. "John." he replied. "Thanks, John, dear." I said, as I climbed off the tractor.

*** 1:00 O'CLOCK, MOUTH TO MOUTH *** (OR, DOLL GETS A TASTE)

I came back inside. I was a little sore, both between my legs and my breasts... they felt tender, bruised. He'd been a little rough, squeezing my breasts hard, tweaking and twisting my nipples, as he jack hammered me with his dick. Still, it had been good. The party was starting to wind down. Brandi was sitting on a sofa in the TV room. The vampire movie NEAR DARK was playing.
She was back in her witch outfit, looking a little disheveled under her pointed hat.
And, though you couldn't tell it from her green face, from her neck to her cleavage, she looked a little flushed. Two guys sat on either side of her on the couch, obviously trying to win her favor. Other guys in the room were observing her closely. Guys talk, you hear things. But several swiveled to scope me out. Under my black face makeup, I felt a little blush. Brandi leaned close to whisper in my ear. "Go look in the blow-up dummy's mouth."
I sauntered off, got another cup of punch in the kitchen (I'd set mine down somewhere, I knew not where). The mad scientist's lab was now deserted, but for Frank on the slab, and the blow up doll on the leaning door. I went up and stuck a finger in her mouth. Something sticky in there. I held up my finger and sniffed, then tasted delicately with the tip of my tongue, the way Kojak would test a little plastic bag of white powder he found on a suspect. Yep, it was cum.
Brandi must have French kissed the blow up doll after her little garage jam and spit the fruits of her efforts into the mouth. I guess a brain wasn't the only thing transferred during this mad scientist's experiment. The doll still had that perpetual surprised look. O!
I turned to go, and there was a figure standing there at the entrance back to the house.
I gave a start. For a second there, it was a scary deja vu, and I realized I was thinking back to that scene in SCREAM where the girl in the garage encounters the figure in the Death outfit.
But no, this was just a guy in a Mime outfit, face painted white.
He stopped, gave that inquisitive Mime look. Hands flat out tracing circles in the air.
He did the guy in the box. He did the walls closing in. He did pulling the rope. He did walking against the wind. He pointed at me, and mimed me being bent over the slab. He mimed doing me doggy style. Then he mimed me having my legs spread, and him diving down to eat between them. Then he mimed me on my knees, mouth open, him rocking his hips towards me. Doubtless that bulge in his pantaloons would be straight out and aiming for the bulls-eye. I wondered if a Mime would make any noise when he came.
I snuggled up close and kissed him. "Dear," I said. "I am worn out tonight. But look me up at the Christmas party!"
I walked out of the garage. He was kind of cute, but Mimes still annoy me. Kind of creepy. It'd be like having sex with a clown. Scary!

*** 1:30AM, THE RIDE HOME *** (OR, TWO PAINTED GIRLS BY THE DASHBOARD LIGHTS)

The kicker, of course, was that we weren't even invited to that party. I'd gotten a flyer invitation, delivered to the wrong mailbox. Three apartment buildings over.
I knew it was a rich neighborhood, and I convinced Brandi we should go crash the party.
I Xeroxed the invite, then left the original on the doorstep of the correct address.
We giggled and told each other our adventures all the way home. My car, but Brandi drove, because she'd had far less Halloween Punch than I did. We didn't get stopped by the cops.
We didn't hook up with some truckers or a motorcycle gang or have car trouble. And we didn't get back to Brandi's and spend until sunrise making frenzied love. No, we scrubbed off makeup, took showers (not together, sorry!), brushed our teeth, she went to bed, and I crashed on her sofa wrapped in a big thick warm blanket and nothing else. I was asleep in about ten seconds. But I bet we both slept with big, satisfied smiles on our faces.
Man with a 'tash

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