tagLoving WivesA Halloween Tradition

A Halloween Tradition


It was our twenty-fifth Halloween together. I watched as she passed out the candy cups she'd made to the little trowels who made their way to our door. Halloween! Such a savage holiday. Steeped in magic, tempting the very fates that on all other nights we hide; fear. But tonight, we laugh at the demons, mock the monsters and wink knowingly at the dark forces of evil. I remembered other nights preceding the Holy Day of All Saints remember fondly the nights of passion, of wild sexual escapades with...well, it doesn't matter who they were with. I'm married to Helen now, and Helen is...well, Helen is simply Helen. She is beautiful, to be sure. Her body is a temptation to all men who see her, and the irony is, she does nothing to encourage such thoughts.

To say she is a mild woman is to greatly understate her. Her smooth full breasts, her pinkish, almost light rose-colored nipples, when aroused jut forward likes bullets. And damn near as hard too! They adorn a chest made of the smoothest of skins, the palest of design, marked only by freckles, and those freckles adorn her face as well. They decorate her alabaster skin, her soft reddish hair, her green eyes capable of great passion, but of late, content only to smile soothingly, to calm my fires, not fan the flames of my desires. She'd settled now, at mid-forty she has forever more forsaken the wild side of her, trading that for the more conventional, more conservative wife she's become.

Nowadays, butter wouldn't melt in her once steaming mouth.

Nowadays, she's more lady than woman.


I watch her with the neighborhood children. Such a proper woman. She spent hours making those candy cups, filling each one with various goodies, placing a silver coin in each cup, alone with a special prize, maybe a movie ticket, maybe just small ring designed for a fairy princes. She spends the year finding little whatnots to pass out at this holiday, and she'll miss none of it.

I asked her if we could go to a party in a club in a neighboring town. I asked her if she would dress up like a tart, and we'd go out to celebrate. But she'd have none of that. Not Helen. No, Helen reminded me that we're not kids any more. She done all that, she didn't intend to do it again. I could go if I fancied, but she'd not participate. I didn't go, of course. I didn't want to see other women dressed like that. I wanted to see Helen. Other women don't excite me. She does. But in the end, I didn't go, I stayed home and I watched her. It is not enough, but it is all there is. And I am grateful for small favors. Tonight, perhaps tonight we'll come together and perhaps tonight I'll lose myself in passion.

"Could you go to the store for me?"

I heard a voice interrupt my thoughts of erotic possibilities.

"Patrick, could you go to the store for me?" It was Helen's voice. She was talking to me. She had interrupted my thoughts of passion with a mundane question. '


"Could you go to the store for me. We're out of milk, and I want to have cereal with fruit in the morning."

"It's damn near nine o'clock." I replied.

"Oh, I see. Nine's too late to go out to get me milk, but if I'd have gone to a club with you, nine is just the shank of the evening. Is that how it works?"

"No. Oh, never mind. I'll go. Is milk all you need?"

"Well, actually, I'd like some fresh fruit, if you're going out anyway."

"Of course," I said putting on my coat. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time and drive carefully. There are still a lot of children walking the streets."

I didn't reply to that. If she was so fucking worried about the children, why didn't she get her milk and fruit before nighttime? It didn't matter. I was already out in the car, backing out of the drive. This wouldn't take long. I headed toward the supermarket a mile from our home. Made more sense to go there than a convenience store. I knew I'd find milk almost anywhere, but the fresh fruit...well; I'd need a bigger store for that.

The parking lot was rather empty, not surprising considering the time and season, and I found a parking space near the entrance of the store. The nearly empty parking lot took on a spooky glow, probably from a combination of the neon lights from the store reflecting off the light fog rolling in that night. Didn't take long to get the provisions and return to my car. I guess I was more pre-occupied than I thought, because I opened the car door, and almost sat down before I realized it wasn't my car.

How embarrassing. But worse yet, there was someone in the car. A woman sitting in the back seat. I didn't see her at first. She looked at me and didn't say a word. Just stared at me. She was dressed for Halloween; at least I think that's why she looked like that. Short dress. Very short, actually. Long black hair. Her sweater was tight...so tight! And the tops of her breasts were exposed. A lot of breast showing there.

I was flustered. I mumbled something about thinking this was my car...terribly sorry. Didn't mean to startle you...but she never said anything to me. Instead, she took her hand to her right breast and began to squeeze the nipple through her sweater. I was mesmerized! I wanted to close the door, I wanted to not look, but I was helpless. I watched as her eyes looked right into me...right into my soul, so it seemed. The top of the sweater started to lower, exposing even more of her breast. I regained my composure as her right nipple came into view. I continued to back out of the car door, closing it behind me. She disappeared into the darkness of the vehicle.

"What are you doing?" A male voice asked me.

Turning around, I saw him. Now, he was dressed for Halloween. No shirt. Tight, body hugging pants. No...those weren't pants. He wasn't wearing any pants, only some sort of men's briefs. Not the kind I wear. Fruit of the Loom didn't make these. These were tan colored leather...or vinyl, or something shinny like that. And no shoes. This man was practically naked in the parking lot!

I found my voice. "Sorry. Looked like my car. Damn near identical. Sorry. No harm meant." I tried to back away from him, but there was something so powerful about him, almost magnetic. I finally broke my gaze and looked around. There was my car! Nearly fifty yards away, toward the center of the lot. I mumbled another apology and made my way to my own automobile. I didn't remember parking it so far away. The longer I walked to it, the further it seemed to be. I was very conscious of the fact that the brutish guy back there, the guy damn near naked in front of a major grocery store, that man was still watching me. Did he think I was trying to steal his car? Did he think I was trying to make time with his...his what? His wife. His girlfriend. Maybe his daughter?

I reached my car. I remember being disoriented, almost like I'd been drugged. I hadn't drunk a drop of alcohol in weeks. Been working too many hours...been too busy concentrating on the business. But now, now I felt so tired. I wanted to be home, I wanted to be back in my own driveway, my own garage. I wanted to be in my bed. I wanted to kiss Helen goodnight and fall asleep. I started the car, slipped it into gear and started home.

Three blocks from my home, something...someone...darted in front of my car. I slammed on my brakes. I missed them. I wasn't sure, but it looked like two people dressed for Halloween. Two people having fun. I was tired now. So tired. I pulled up to my house, pulled into the garage. I hit the door opener. Nothing happened. No light came on, no garage door lifting. I hit it again. Nothing. Damn! I wondered how much that was going to cost to fix. More money to spend. Less to save for my old age. Helen's old age. Our old age. More damn expenses! I made my way up the drive, around to the back of the house. I knew the front door would be locked. The light was already off. Helen had probably turned it off and had already gone to bed. I went around the back door and fumbled for my key to unlock it. The door wasn't locked. It wasn't even pulled tight. As soon as my hand touched the lock, it gave way, opened as if by an unseen butler.

So dark. I reached for the switch. Nothing. No light. I flipped it up and down a few times. Nothing. Fuck! The electricity was out. Well, that explained the garage door not opening. That was some relief. I made my way through the kitchen, setting the milk and bananas on the kitchen table. Didn't want to open the fridge just now.

"Helen. I'm home."

She didn't answer. Of course not. She was probably already in bed. I glanced at my watch. There was light coming in the window from the moon. Quite bright, actually. I could make out the hands of my watch. Midnight. Midnight! Wait a minute. It couldn't be that late. I 'd left the house not twenty minutes ago, and it was just past nine then. I looked at my watch again. Midnight! This was too strange. Something was wrong here. I made my way through the house, out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Into the den.




No answer. I was at the base of the stairs now. I looked up the stairwell. I called out once more, this time much softer than the other times. "Helen?"

No answer. I went up the stairs. Where was she? Where could she be? At the top of the stairs is a table and in that table is a flashlight. I felt my way in the darkness to the table I'd seen a hundred thousand times. But always in the light, always with some light reflecting off it, reflecting off it from some source somewhere in the house. Now it was totally dark and I couldn't seem to find the damn table.

Found it. Opened the drawer. No flashlight! Of course there wasn't a light. Helen probably took it when the lights went out. Smart girl, her. I made my way to the bedroom. Certainly that's where she was. Of course. I was starting to piece all this together now. A power outage. I'd been so tired in the store, and in the parking lot, that I'd fallen asleep in my car. Sure. That made sense. I'd fallen asleep in the car, woke without realizing what I'd done, and now I was home, albeit three hours later, and my wife had gone to bed.

Of course she had. She always went to bed by ten thirty. That was it. She was asleep, the power was out...and now I needed to get to bed, too. I pulled my shirt off over my head and tossed it on the chair in our room. Slipped out of my loafers, reached down and took off my socks. Pants next. Stood there, just inside the doorway and slipped out of my under shorts. Started to head for my dresser to grab a pair of sleeping shorts when the door closed behind me.

Now, I'm not easily spooked, but this did the trick. I whipped around. I couldn't see anyone. I knew who it was, of course. There were only two of us living here. Our children had long since gone their own ways...make their own way. We were alone in this large house. But the key word here is, we were alone! If someone had closed the door, it could only have been Helen. But why? Suddenly, I sensed her presence. I reached out to touch her, almost touched her. I know I almost touched her. I felt her move aside to avoid my touch. I stepped forward, almost losing my balance. Then I did feel her. Felt her touch, at least. On my back. Lower, actually. On the left cheek of my ass. I felt her hand touching me. I felt her nails rake across my buttock. I froze. I didn't know what this was about, but I liked it. I liked the feel of her hand on my ass.

It continued. I didn't move. I felt Helen's hand stoke my ass, and travel across the left buttock to the right one. Then back again, this time stopping near my asshole. I didn't breathe. I stood there, suspended in time, waiting to see...rather waiting to feel what she would do next. I didn't have to wait long. Her hand traveled south, her fingernail probing my ass. I shuddered at that touch. My ass hole is so sensitive, so hyper-ready for her touch.

Her hand traveled lower, between my legs. I opened them for her, for her hand to pass between them. She knew what I needed. Her arm snaked between my legs and her hand fondled my sac. I felt her separate and fondle each testicle; I felt her fingers play with my gems. Then she stopped and her hand went further, past my ball sac, and reach around my already hard cock. She enclosed as much as she could inside her hand and began to stroke it, to pull it up and down in her hand.

I gasped. My hard cock was getting harder. I had thought my eyes would have adjusted to the low level of light by now. I was facing the mirror, looking at myself in the darkness of the room. There was a light source. I saw it now. I hadn't seen it when I first come into the room. A single candle. On the dresser. I could see myself, sort of, in the reflection of the dresser mirror. It was an eerie sight. I was standing there, naked, my body rigid, unable to move, much like a deer caught in headlights, while I watched her left hand grasp my cock and stroke it. It was as if a disembodied hand was jacking me, a hand that grew out of my groin, a hand that was making my already hard cock even harder. And I watched in fascination as a second hand came around my leg and joined the first in its ministration of my now growing need. I knew she must be on her knees behind me for her arms to be in this position.

I was right. No sooner had I reached that assumption, than I felt something warm and moist touch my ass. It snaked its way around my right buttock, moving left. It was Helen. More, it was Helen's mouth. She was running her tongue around me, around my ass cheeks. It moved toward the center of my ass. I felt the tip of it touch me. Touch me there! We've been married almost twenty-five years...and she'd never done that. I'd wanted it, begged for it in my mind's eye, but never vocalized how much I needed that. There are some things one cannot ask one's wife to do. Sticking her tongue inside one's ass is one of those things. But now, without my asking, without my even verbalizing how much I wanted that done to me, now she was on her knees, between my ass checks, and licking...no, fucking, my ass hole with her tongue.

And nothing she'd ever done felt half as good as that did at that moment. She stopped jerking me now, but rather gently began to turn me around, turn my body around, so that her mouth was no longer on my ass, but rather directly in front of me. She was in a position to take my cock inside her mouth. She had only done that on two other occasions in the last twenty odd years. But I knew that was what she was going to do. And now, I wanted that more than anything.

Her mouth slipped over my cock. All of it. She took me all inside her mouth as effortlessly as if she'd done it a thousand times before. My hand went to the back of her head and I could feel the coarseness of her hair. Wait. This was such course hair. What had she done to make it so? Her hair was always soft. I continued to feel her head, her ears. I moved my hands to her face. And there I found myself mystified. It was not her face I was feeling. It was something else.


The sucking stopped. Damn! I tried to push myself back in her mouth, but she'd pulled away. She stood before me, and now I could see her. Well, not actually see her, because she was wearing a mask. A black mask covered her eyes, and the hair I'd felt moments ago was a wig. Attached to the mask. The candlelight was stronger now, or so it seemed to me. I glanced at the dresser. Two candles. Before I had only seen one, but now there were two. How had I missed the second one? No matter. Now I could see my wife standing there, in front of me, and I knew what was happening. It was, after all, Halloween.

She was disguised in this costume, and dressed like a bitch in heat. She wore a pair of black stockings, a pair of very high heels with those thin stiletto styled spikes, a pair of leather thong panties, a leather bra...or so it would have been considered a bra if it covered any portion of her breasts. Instead, it seemed to suspend them, hold them firmly yet display them proudly. I could see her nipples in the light. They were cherry red, bright red, almost as if dipped in...in what? Blood? Yes, that was the look. I reached out to touch one of them. Before I could make contact, something else did. I felt a hard slap across the back of my hand. I mean a very hard slap.I looked at her. There was something in her hand; a small, leather strap of some sort. But why? I reached for her again, and again, with lightning speed, the leather strap struck my hand, causing me to pull back.

The light seemed bright now. And now, for the first time, I realized we weren't alone. I could see another figure in the room. It looked like a man. But who? Who would be in my bedroom at this hour? Who would Helen have allowed to see her like this? Wait, screw seeing her like this...who would she have allowed to see her kiss my ass hole, to suck my cock? Not Helen! No, she'd never allow this. But while my mind was reeling with all these questions, her hand reached out and touched my cock again. It had not shriveled in the least. On the contrary, it was harder now than it had been just moments ago. And once again, she slipped down to her knees and took my cock back inside her mouth, this time sucking it more gently than before. This time, it was almost as if she were loving it like a dog loves a stuffed toy. She was sucking on my cock with a purpose, yet with no particular need to finish me.

And I sensed the man rise from the chair and walk toward us. As he approached, Helen stopped sucking me and rose before me. I could see into her eyes. They were distant, almost cold. Of course I couldn't see that well, but I could see that. She put her hands out, this time laying them on my shoulders. She put slow pressure on my right shoulder, as if to turn me back around. I could do nothing but accept her silent direction. Turning away from her, the room seemed to grow darker as I turned. Her hands, her nails, were raking my back again, running the entire length of my torso until she reached my ass again, and again, she delved between the cheeks finding my ass hole and this time pushing a finger inside me. And I let her!

I had closed my eyes tightly when she turned me. Perhaps that explained why it had gotten so dark in the room. Now I could see the candles flicker through my closed lids and I slowly opened them, afraid to keep them closed any longer, but terrified to open them fully. Her finger was playing inside me. I jumped. Not from the digit inside my rectum, but from the sight in front of my now opened eyes.

There was a man there. His face couldn't have been more than a few inches from mine. I stared into his eyes as my wife licked my ass cheeks while her finger fucked me faster and faster. I felt her hand on my wrist. Pushing my arm away from my side, urging me to move my hand forward. At first I thought she wanted me to touch myself, to diddle my hard cock while she pleasured me from behind. But then it hit me what she wanted me to do. And I did it.

Reaching out in front of me, below waist level, I felt the man who had been watching all this. I felt his excitement, his passion, as my hand wrapped around his hardened cock. I had never before touched a man's penis. Now I was stroking this one like it was my own. And her other hand had come around me, had lifted my own cock until it was straight out, until the tip of my penis was pushing against the head of this stranger's dick.. This was almost more than I could stand. I knew I would come soon. I knew that in moments, my cum would spurt out...spurt out to cover this other man's cock with my juice. I knew I could do nothing to stop it.

But she could. As quickly as she had put her finger inside me, she pulled it out. That hurt! More than screwing into me, the sudden withdrawal hurt. Maybe it was just a mental thing, this sudden pain I felt upon being vacated so quickly after being violated. I don't to this day know what I felt, but I will never forget what happened next.

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