Naughty Tricks and Treats

From the first moment she enters the sex shop I own, I know she’s the one.

The way she bites her lip as she stares at the different things—a dark flutter of desire shines in her eyes.

My own eyes are strange - one is blue and the other is green. I wear contacts so that I won’t scare people. Halloween is my special time, because I can be myself.

She debates buying a vibrator, and does so, blushing hard when she brings it to the counter.

“Would you like to try our special lube with it?” I raise an eyebrow.

God, how I would love to have her legs spread wide for me and watch her use it. Her hands shake slightly.

“Are you nervous? You don’t have to be around me,” I say, smiling as I slide a small tube over. “On the house. I ask only that you fill out an anonymous questionnaire for me?”

I hold out a tablet and nod to where she can take a seat to fill it out. She does as I ask, and I love how hard she blushes as she fills it out.

Once she is gone, I look through her answers. Fuck me! I go hard at the thought of what I am going to do to her. Some might think it creepy of me, but I go into the back and pull out the video footage of her in the shop and pump one out as my dick begs for it.

She comes into the shop a few more times, and as she uses her card to pay for things, I find out where she lives. Yeah, I know it’s creepy, but it is obvious she is unhappy when she comes in. I live in a world where high-profile people come to the same clubs as me, so it is easy to gather information about her.

Last Halloween, I turned up at her door and God, I wanted her so much, but she wasn’t ready for what I planned for her. This time I’ve carefully constructed everything. She is going to be mine this Halloween. It will be a night of naughty tricks and treats.

It is that time of the year again—one of my favorite times of the year, but also one which has been turning weirder and weirder.

My husband is getting ready for work at the prison, and I catch him rolling his eyes at me as I decide on a Halloween costume.

I’ve told him strange things happen, but he never pays me any attention and always puts it down to my obsession with creepy things.

“What if the scary clown comes again this time? I’m not opening the door.” Oh, I absolutely will be, and gawking at him with delicious intent; but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Tell him to ravish your body and give you the best sex of your life. That will scare him away, and he will never come back,” my husband laughs as he grabs his phone off the side.

I glare at him. How could he be so horrible? I’m only forty-three, and I don’t think I’m that bad.

“Is that why you never touch me anymore?” I clench my fists and stand with my hands on my hips, my heart pounding with hurt and rage.

“Don’t start this now. If you switch up your look sometimes, I might find you attractive.” He shakes his head, runs his eyes up and down my body, and then, with his nose crinkled up, he leaves. It is already four o’clock, and the trick-or-treaters will come around soon.

“Well, if the scary clown comes around this year, I might just offer him sex. I know I would do anyone right now,” I half yell at him, although he has already left and won’t hear me. “Am I really that unattractive?” Sadness fills my empty heart.

Once high school sweethearts, now… nothing. Each year we have grown apart, but this year, he doesn’t care.

With thoughts swirling around in my head, I carve the final pumpkin with a smile. I imagine his face and slice into his eye sockets.“Take that, you horrible man.”

The sun has set, and now the real fun starts. All the little kids finish their activities by six o’clock, and the older ones will now trail around the houses.

This year I decided on Harley Quinn for my outfit.

“Holy shit.” I run my hands down my front.

My breasts burst out of the top and the skirt hardly covers my ass, but I feel sexy as hell. I snap a photo and smile to myself. Maybe my husband was right. I need to change what I’m wearing.

The door goes and a barrel of nerves and excitement fires through my body. Can I do this? Taking a deep breath, I check myself in the full-length mirror on the wall as I go to open the door.

“Trick or tr… Holy fuck.” Frankenstein stands next to his pal, and Dr. Strange gawks openly at me. They must be around twenty-one years old.

I twirl my hair in my fingers, wondering what I’m doing. My heart is racing, and I’m sure from the way my breasts rise as my breathing speeds up, they’re fit to burst out.

“What kind of treat were you looking for?” Holy shit, I’m going to be sent to hell.

The two young men lick their lips and stare at me. “Would you let me fondle your tits?” Dr. Strange can’t take his eyes off them.

For the first time in years, a guy wants to touch me. “Come in, boys.” I open the door wider, and the two of them take a quick look behind and come in.

I close the door, and the dim lights flicker from the decorations. A tingling sensation fires up between my legs because I’m excited for the first time in years.

“You’re beautiful.” Frankenstein is more confident.

“Can my friend suck your nipples?” He moves behind me and slides both of his hands up my sides, tugging at my top.

Both my breasts fall free, and Dr. Strange groans as he grabs them roughly, then bends down and takes a nipple in his mouth.

Frankenstein is behind me and moves his hand down the front of my skirt, his lips sucking and kissing my neck.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He presses his fingers so they slide under my panties.

“Yes.” I gasp out and lean my head back.

My eyelids flutter as his fingers press down and glide over my pussy.

“Oh, God,” I shudder as he presses his erection against me at the same time his fingers curl up and enter me.

“Fuck, your pussy is soaking already,” he says, fingering me faster while Dr. Strange enjoys sucking and playing with my breasts.

The doorbell rings, and I panic. I push the two of them off me and straighten myself out. Frankenstein takes his fingers and sucks them. I open the door and let the two of them out, while the empty doorway puzzles me. I was sure the doorbell had rung. Closing the door, I lean up against it and breathe.

“Did I just do that?” Every part of me says yes, I did. I just let two strangers fondle me. Holy shit! I fan my flushed face. “Well, they got a treat for sure.” I giggle.

Guilty of my sins, I hold my head down in shame, even as I enjoyed every part of what they did to me. Should I feel guilty about what I did? My husband went off telling me to get fucked by the clown—okay, so it wasn’t a clown, but they made me feel again.

The gnawing feeling of guilt fills me, and I need to compose myself. So, I go upstairs, clean myself up, and change my panties. My heart races as I fix my makeup, although the streaked mascara gives the outfit more of a psycho look.

The funny Halloween doorbell rings, and I gulp. Can I handle any more tonight? Do I ignore it and hope they go away?