Trick or Treat
Story Codes: MF, Exhibitionist


Trick or Treat
Written by Riley Robbins


I know that this is odd to say for a young woman my age but I really wasn’t looking forward to this past
Halloween. All of my friends were excited about dressing up, and going to house parties or out to clubs to take
advantage of their Halloween “deals”. As for me, I had just planned to order a large pizza for myself, get a
cheap bottle of wine and watch scary movies all night.

As a teenager, I had always loved Halloween. I was the kid who never had a store bought costume because I
never wanted anyone else to be wearing the same costume as me. Instead, I spent weeks leading up to the
spooky holiday making my own costume. I had knack for making the scariest, yet sexiest costume in town. You
would never expect to see a hot ghoul but somehow I pulled it off.

However, a few years ago my lover for Halloween had faded. The fun and excitement was no longer there. I
stopped believing in all of the superstitions that followed the grim holiday. I just chalked it up me getting older.
The afternoon of Halloween I went to the store to pick up a cheap bottle of Pink Moscato. I was hoping to get
there early and beat all of the last minute candy shoppers but I failed. It took me almost an hour to work my
way through the crowds that were there for candy and party supplies just for a simple bottle of wine. While
working my way through the mob of people, I felt a hand grab onto my shoulder. Spooked, I turned around
quickly. It was my friend, Sarah.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sarah said.

“It’s okay. What are you doing here?” I asked, just trying to be polite.

“Oh, I’m just getting some vodka for this party I’m going to tonight. You should come!”

“No, thanks. I already have plans.”

“Snuggling on the couch with your cat does not count as plans. Come on, you haven’t done anything on
Halloween in years. It used to be your favorite.”

“I really just don’t feel like it, Sarah.”

“Alright, well you should at least pass out candy or something. It would be fun to see all of the kids’ costumes.”
“I’ll think about it.”

    The two of us said our good-byes and went out spate ways. With my bottle of wine in hand, I waited in the
ridiculously long line to check out. While waiting, I couldn’t help to think about what Sarah had said as the rack
of mixed candy bags stared back at me. Sarah was right. Just because Halloween was no longer for me, that
didn’t mean I couldn’t help keep the spirit alive in the children. I grabbed a couple bags of the candy and
checked out.

Once I had gotten home, I immediately popped open my bottle of wine and poured my first glass of the night. I
then found the biggest bowl I had and poured the candy into it and flicked on my porch light. All that was left
to do was wait for the trick-or-treaters to come by. Quite some time had passed and I now had a few more
glasses of wine down and not one kid had come to my doorstep looking for candy. That was when I started to
think how boring it would be when a kid did show up and I was just wearing my everyday clothes.
I went into my bedroom and pulled out a box of all my old costumes. Memories flooded my mind as I pulled out
each costume to look at it. Then I had gotten to my black cat costume. It wasn’t the scariest costume I had but
it was by far the sexiest. I had always had a fascination with black cats. I quickly undressed and put the
costume on, hoping that it still fit. To my surprise, it fit even better than when I had made it. Mostly, due to the
size of my chest. My breasts were much fuller now than they were when I was younger. They were almost
popping out of the costume.

    I had considered changing out of it because I was afraid it was to revealing for the children and I didn’t
want to send the wrong idea. Before I could, I heard the doorbell ring. I raced to the door, not wanting to miss
my first trick-or-treater. I opened the door to find a man that appeared to be in his early twenties as well
dressed as a vampire.

“Oh,” I said, in disappointment.

“What? Do you not like my costume?” He asked.

“No, it’s not that at all,” I assured him, “You’re costume is actually pretty amazing. It’s very realistic but don’t
you think you are a little old to be trick-or-treating?”

He grinned and said, “You are never too old to trick or treat.”

    I was intrigued by his continued passion for Halloween. I looked up and down the street looking for children
to stop by my house for candy. With no one in sight, I invited the man into my house so we could talk more
about Halloween. He seemed to know much more about than holiday than even myself.

    As we talked, I couldn’t help but stare at the stranger’s broad shoulders and his dark eyes. There seemed
to be a strange connection between the two of us. I was a bit nervous but the wine was helping to loosed me
up. I soon found my lips locked in an embrace with his. His hand fell to my thigh. He slid it up slowly across my
fishnet stockings. I pulled him closer to me and I lifted my arms around his neck and leaned back, feeling his
fingers, so strong, but so cold, trailing my thigh, then my waiting moisture.

The man began to kiss and bite my neck as we ripped the clothes from each other. I laid back onto the couch
as he plunged deep inside, filling me. My head was whirling and I was feeling things I had never felt before as
he thrust himself in and out of me. The man continued to bite my neck, quickly bring me to my climax. He
pulled himself out gently as I attempted to regain my composure.

    I must have fallen asleep because I had woke up to the sound of another knock on my door. I quickly
looked around my living room, not sure if I was dreaming or not. After seeing no sign of the man I had just met
I answered the door. It was Sarah.

“Are you okay?” She asked as she made her way into my house.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just woke up, but what are you doing here?”

“I was going to come and drag you to that party but I don’t know about that. Are you sure you’re feeling
alright? You look pretty pale.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I said defensively as I ran my fingers through my hair.

Sarah grabbed my hand and stared at my neck. “What happened?”

I had told her about the man I had met and the events that had happened that night. I told her that he must
have left a hickey on my neck.

“This isn’t a hickey.” Sarah said, with her voice shaking, “This is a bite. You’re bleeding!”
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