Key Words: Trick OR Treat (but not both)
Forbidden Words: Surprise, creamy
Word Limit: 20 minutes of typing … that’s it!
Bonus Words: Additional five minutes of typing if the pumpkin stays on!
I touched him, feeling the smooth bumps of his chest muscles as he remained motionless. A mere grunt as my fingers swept ever closer to his erect cock, jutting deliciously into the room. My eyes stared momentarily at it: an orange tip bulging expectantly, a veiny shaft of thick skin that shimmered in the half-light.
His head tilted: triangular eyes watched as my hands trembled over his cock. No expression, nothing but his worryingly evil grimace carved on his bulbous face. My naked wife smiled as my thumb rubbed gently over his unusually-shaped appendage. Her eyes traced the sight in front of her as she gestured at him. At both of us.
She barked at me; I knew what she wanted, as she sat beside us, lying on her back. The monster looked at her, moving his thick, muscular frame towards my young lady.
Her eyes sparkled, welcoming the orange monster with a lustful promise. “Help him,” she ordered; my fingers still sliding over his slippery shaft as he sized the feminine offering in front of him. He grunted as I positioned his prick into my wife and pressed forward to fill her cunt with his orange cock.
She squealed, crying as he rocked back and forth into my lover. His buttocks tensed as he pounded his cock deep into her. She groaned and cried; lust and horniness filling her eyes as he ground into her sopping pussy.
I stared. For the first time, I was present while another took my wife. Another man to bring her to the delightful cries and squealing climaxes that I used to do. A bit of despair tumbled inside of me, a slice of pride fought it. I watched the pumpkin-headed man power his cock deeper and deeper inside of her, tripping her into continuous orgasms of panted breathing and desperate crying.
Her body shook from the strong pounding the half-man half-vegetable creature inflicted upon her, until he climaxed with a fiery groan, withdrawing his spewing cock from her pussy. She pushed my face into her cunt, overflowing with pumpkin seeds.
“No!” I squealed. “Please, not that!”
“Clean me,” my wife demanded, forcing me into my deepest fantasies. “Now!”
“No! It’s …”
I woke with a start in a cold sweat; my wife’s fingers danced over my chastity cage as she kissed me awake. “Hello love!” She stared at my flushed expression and kissed me on the forehead. “You had one of those crazy sex dreams?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, squirming at the awkward pressure in my caged crotch.
“Cut down on the blue cheese,” she muttered. “But good news: I got a text from Brian. He says you can come and play on Hallowe’en and maybe join in with us. He’s got a treat for you, my little cuckold!”
I whimpered. “Not Hallowe’en!”
“Why? Don’t you want to see how much your wife fucking enjoys her hobby? You let me do it, after all and you’ve been begging me for months to see me play with my friends. Or would you rather just have the videos and pictures of my nights of sluttery?”
“Yes,” I squealed, desperately begging her. “But just … not Hallowe’en.”
“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!”
I must confess that I didn’t do much Trick or Treating as a child; my parents saw it as an American tradition rather than a British custom, and I was told by more than one person that it was illegal: demanding money with menaces, blackmail and (potentially) criminal damage. (Don’t ask!)
That said, I think as an adult I would love to Trick or Treat someone with a deviant, twisted mind; treats don’t have to be “nice,” do they?!