A Mother's Much-Needed Haunting

Halloween Story Contest 2022 Submission

This is a silly little one-off for the Halloween contest! I hope it's fun for readers -- it was fun to write.

A special shout-out to everyone who works so hard to keep holidays fun!

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A Mother's Much-Needed Haunting

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Fuckity fucking fuck.

Jane was fairly certain that she'd just felt a cobweb slide across her face, and she hated spiders. Why does Mark have to be gone so often? Obviously she understood that a paycheck like his included some travel, but it would be nice if he wasn't gone *every* Monday to Thursday on business. Watching the kids took a good chunk of her time even though their youngest was in kindergarten now, but still that left all of the other house things to do.

Other things like this one: digging the Halloween decorations out of their musty old attic. She hated going up here, lugging the big plastic box down the rickety stairs, vacuuming up the inevitable detritus when she was done. She did not, however, mind decorating the house. Jane loved Halloween. She didn't know whether it was because of memories from her own childhood of candy-fueled excess, the general glee that infects all but the most curmudgeonly of people, or the feeling of liberation that a holiday built on indulgence, good-natured spookiness, and community fun engendered, but she loved it all. And she loved it even now, as a 41 year old mother of three, just as she did when she was as little.

As she brushed the cobweb (was there a cobweb?) from her hair Jane's eyes found the Halloween box, neatly labeled in her flowing hand. She stepped carefully over to it -- next time Mark had some time off he really needed to tidy the attic -- and was about to hoist it from its floor when she noticed something odd. This was her Halloween box, from when she was a child -- "spooky" glow-in-the-dark stickers and everything. For a second she was transported back in time: her striped leggings, the flowy black dress, and the best part of the whole thing, her big floppy witch hat. She must have been -- oh god, 7, 8 years old? A lifetime ago. When did this box get put up here? Had they taken it from her parents house at some point?

Nevermind, a mystery for Mark's Great Clean-Out Project, of which he was still unaware. She smiled to herself. Halloween was great then, and she was determined that her children would love it just as much.

And there it was! Sitting behind her childhood decorations was her family's big box of Halloween decorations, with all the supplies: pumpkin-carving tools, spooky spider webs to hang on the front of the house, little light-up pumpkins for their porch, the works. She smiled as she stepped over her old things and picked up the decorations. Time to get to work!

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Jane lay in bed tired but happy. Her evening had been a mess -- her oldest son's soccer practice finished late, so she was late to get her older daughter from dance class, and the youngest, who had been in the car the whole time, was cranky beyond compare by the time they finally straggled in half an hour past the time she usually began to make dinner. She was of course immediately asked by each of her children what was for dinner.

But even before the ravenous beasts could ask the question, they had all noticed the decorations! Her house had been transformed into a living embodiment of the Halloween spirit: fun, whimsical, spooky, and decidedly ready for all manner of trick-or-treaters on Monday night. Only a week to go! Jane was pleased that her children had noticed and seemed excited by her hard work: she was delighted when they collectively dubbed it "Mom's Spooky Mansion."

All three were now tucked away safe in bed, and Jane was left by herself. She'd talked to Mark earlier and he sounded tired but so pleased that she was enjoying the preparations; she had been practically beaming with pride -- she knew it was silly -- as the kids raved to their dad on the phone about all that she had done.

As she put her book down she remembered her childhood Halloween box sitting in the attic, and wondered again where it come from. The Ghosts of Halloween past, here to make sure her love the holiday didn't diminish? She chuckled to herself and turned off the lamp.

But sleep wouldn't come. Jane tossed and turned for a while, before finally sighing and turning on her bedside lamp to its lowest setting and grabbing a book. Not the respectable book she'd been working on intermittently for weeks, but the one her husband called (not unfairly) her "pleasure reading."

It was some silly romance, with lots of cliches and lots (and lots, and lots) of sex. Shakespeare it was not, but that was hardly the point. It took her away to another world, and more than once she'd been able to steal a quick, quiet orgasm when Mark was out of town thinking about the characters on the page.

That was the plan for tonight. The protagonist, a simple country girl, was in the arms of her older lover, who was completely and totally dedicated to her pleasure. Wouldn't that be nice, Jane thought.

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**Simple Country Pleasures, Chapter 3...**

**Rebecca sighed as she felt Jonathan's hands slowly rubbing her feet, taking the time to work the tiredness from every inch of them. His strong, calloused hands ran up to her bare calves, kneading and caressing them as she reclined in bed.**

Jane smiled and slipped a hand into her panties, cupping her sex. She knew things would pick up soon, and she could feel her excitement growing. Being alone with no adult company for days on end could do that to you.

**Jonathan bent down and kissed one of her toes, and Rebecca giggled. The giggle turned into a low moan as his hands slid higher, dragging his fingernails down the backs of her knees. She could see his cock hard between his legs, almost dripping with precum. But Jonathan paid it no mind; he was focused totally on her pleasure.**

Jane lazily dragged a fingernail up her thigh, thinking of the pleasure Rebecca was about to receive. As she did so, she felt something that caused her to yank her legs up to her chest and let out a tiny little squeak.

FUCK! Did that spider from earlier find its way into her bed?? She could have sworn she felt something on her toe, but a minute of searching with her phone flashlight under the covers had turned up nothing. She thought briefly about sleeping on the couch, but decided that was silly. But her heart was still pounding, and she was definitely not ready to sleep now.

She looked around on the ground for where she had tossed her book in surprise. As she leant out of bed to pick it up she had the funniest little thought: what if that had been a kiss? Ridiculous, yes, but also kind of what it felt like? Maybe she was just thinking that because of what was happening in the book. Speaking of....

**Rebecca sighed as felt his five o'clock shadow bristle against the inside of her thigh. Her knees were up and spread; Jonathan knelt between them, dropping soft kisses on her smooth legs from top to bottom. His hands roamed her legs, never getting as far north as she'd have liked, but never resting either: massaging, rubbing, tickling, teasing. He kissed a spot just a few inches below the heat coming from between her legs as his strong hands slid up the underside of her thighs.**

Jane shivered. She could have sworn she felt hands on her legs, sliding over them, caressing them, teasing them. She must really be getting into the book, but she wasn't exactly about to complain. She slipped a hand into her panties and found herself wet. She drew a ragged breath as she slid a finger along her slit from bottom to top, reveling in the sensation.

**"Please Jonathan, my Jaybird, please. I'm yours for the taking." Rebecca tangled her fingers in his thick head of hair and pulled him up towards her face. She loved how he was making her feel, but she needed him inside of her.**

"Okay, maybe not the best dialogue I've ever read," Jane thought to herself. But as she did she felt -- and this time she was certain -- the weight of a body glide up over hers. It was hard to explain: it wasn't quite the weight of a man, and she was sure if she tried to stand up she'd be able to. But she felt the same was she did when she was under a man. She moaned and spread her legs, slipping a finger into her wetness then up over her clit. She let out a low moan then, following some impulse she didn't understand or even register, she took her hand away from her pussy and put it, along with her other one, behind her head into the soft tresses of her auburn hair. Her eyes were on the book, but she couldn't tell if she was reading or not.

**Rebecca smiled up at her lover as he felt her poised at her entrance. The muscles of his chest drew her eyes, the veins on his forearms as he held herself over him.**

Jane closed her eyes as she felt her lower lips spread open, just as they had so many times before for her husband.

**Rebecca gripped his back, urging him down, urging him to take her. Her mouth opened into a silent scream as she felt his throbbing cock begin to sink into her velvet folds, as wet as she had ever been.**

Jane moaned quietly -- always quietly -- as she felt herself being opened up by a thick cock. She could feel every ridge and vein, and she gasped to herself as the head slipped in and its girth demanded accommodation from her body. Her eyes were tightly closed, but the book read on.

**"Yes lover, yes!" Rebecca bit into Jonathan's shoulder as he pressed deeper into her. She'd never taken anything so big. Of course, she'd never taken anything other than him, and she never wanted to.**

Jane moaned as she felt herself being filled. God, this was big, God, this was good! She whimpered to herself then gently, tentatively, thrust her hips up into the air to meet whatever was inside of her.

Then he -- it -- whatever -- began to fuck her. Slowly, gently, almost lovingly. She felt herself stretching to take him as he bottomed out inside of her, and felt her body gripping him tightly as he pulled back before plunging inside her again. And again. And again.

As he went he picked up pace and power, but was never too rough. She felt full and filled and used, but in the very best way when she knew she was used not for his pleasure but for both of theirs. Faster and faster he pumped into her, each stroke a revelation and each backstroke agony. She was moaning now, turning her head to the side to bite the pillow as her body was wracked with pleasure. Jane was lost.

And as she felt a particularly powerful stroke -- pushing her back into the mattress, ghostly balls slapping against her ass -- she came. She came like she never had before, writhing and moaning, the pillow between her lips all that stopped her from crying out to God or the Devil or whatever was inside of her. She saw stars.

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When she woke sometime after midnight, her bedroom light was still on. She must have dozed off after her orgasm, a delirious affair with her "pleasure reading" that was the best she'd ever had. She'd really got into it.

But her pussy ached. Not in an unpleasant way, but in the way it did after a particularly good bout with her husband when the kids were at her parents' house. She could still feel the fullness of her imagined lover, and she was so deeply satisfied.

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Monday, October 31

Remarkably all three kids were asleep. Despite the truly outrageous amount of candy they'd consumed they were all snuggled in their beds, perhaps worn out by the fun despite the sugar that she felt fairly certain had replaced 3/10ths of their blood.

Her husband Mark was snoring softly beside her. He'd surprised her by taking the week off; he knew how much she loved Halloween and that she'd been working so hard while he was away, and he wanted to make sure she felt appreciated. He's a good man, she thought to herself. What did I ever do to deserve him?

They'd fucked that night, quietly, after the kids fell asleep. It was deep and slow, sensual rather than aggressive. He let her feel how badly he had missed her, and how in love with her he was after all these years. She'd cum for him as he came inside of her.

Jane leaned over and softly kissed his cheek; Mark didn't stir. She sighed contentedly as she snuggled back into her pillows, then switched off the light. She was just closing her eyes when she felt it, as she had every night since the first one. She spread her legs a little wider and felt the head start to press into her folds: soft, slow, gentle, and loving. She'd been wondering about this, and now that it was here she somehow knew absolutely that Mark wouldn't wake. She smiled as she felt her lover slip inside of her.

Jane whispered into the room, barely more than a dreamy breath. "My Jaybird. I'm yours for the taking."