Cougar Treats

"Aw, Mom."

"It's almost obscene, Jamie. It's not that warm out. If you're going out, at least put on a sweater or something."

"Yeah, right, Mom," Jamie said, rolling his eyes at his sidekick, Keith, all decked out in a pirate costume, "every Roman gladiator wore a sweater when he went out to the lions."

"Cougars," Keith muttered and then flashed a broad smile at Jamie.

"Shhh," Jamie hissed, giving Keith a nasty warning glance.

"I'm sure Roman gladiators wore more than short skirts and sandals and leather straps across their chests," Peg countered, with a pursing of lips. Then she was jostled a bit by her passing husband, and turned, "Going so soon?"

Burton Winston had almost brushed past the trio standing at the open front door when his wife noticed spoke to him, "I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours, Peg. They've screwed up the Johnson contract. I should only be gone long enough to get that back on track. The proposal is due in tomorrow."

His voice trailed off as he focused on his son for the first time. "You are not going out half naked, James. And what do you think you're doing anyway? And if you think you're getting your mom's car—"

"Burt—" Peg started, but as her husband gave her the evil eye, she went silent. They'd had this discussion several times in the past few months since Jamie had come of age. When to hold them and when to let them go. Burt too often was too protective and restrictive—sometimes a regular Puritan.

Burton turned back to his son. "You're much too old to be going out trick or treating, anyway."

"Just the treating part," Jamie's friend Keith piped up.

For a second time, Jamie shushed his friend and gave him a venomous stare down.

"Geez," Jamie said. "You'd think when I turned eighteen you guys would stop scrutinizing my every move. Keith and me are going out partying for a while. And Keith is driving. Everything's cool."

"Eleven o'clock," Burton said sternly. "Back home by eleven or we lock the doors on you."

"Will you be home by then?" Jamie's mom, Peg, interjected into Burton's control play on his son.

"Sure, I should be. No later than 10:30, I hope." And then Burton was gone, on the way to his car and pulling out of the driveway without a look back.

"What about Craig?" Peg said to her son now that the three of them were alone by the open front door again. "He's not going out partying with you too, is he?"

"Naw, Mom. We're not really palling around with him anymore," Jamie answered. "Since Keith and I started at City College, we don't have much in common with Craig anymore."

"Good," Peg said with a tone of finality in her voice and a little smile she tried to hide from her son. "I feel safer with you out on a Halloween night like this if you aren't with Craig. He's much too old for you, and I think he's into some things you should be avoiding."

"He's only nineteen, Mom," Jamie countered. "Not even a year older then me. But, yeah, I think he's into some serious shit too. Rumor has it he has some old bag punch and is spendin' his time with her."

Peg gave her son a shocked look and turned from him. When she turned back, he was hanging his head. He knew she didn't like to hear her fair-haired boy using curse words or coarse images.

"Anyway, we're off, Mom," Jamie said as he tugged on Keith's sleeve and nudged through the door.

"Eleven o'clock. You heard your father," Peg said. "Do you think you'll be much earlier?"

"I doubt it, Mom. We've got two or three stops."

"I guess that leaves me alone with the trick or treaters then," Jamie's mother said. "Oh, well." And she turned and shut the door, as Jamie and Keith made a beeline for Keith's car as quick as they could.

* * * *

"My, my, my, aren't we looking virile?" Mrs. Sebastian said as she opened the door. "A hulky pirate, and, oh, my, my, a Roman soldier in all his glory."

"Trick or treat," Jamie and Keith said in unison, big grins on their faces.

"I guess it will have to be a treat, then," Mrs. Sebastian said. "Come on in, boys. Go on upstairs and give me a few minutes to turn off the lights down here."

Jamie and Keith had barely gotten to the bedroom, when Mrs. Sebastian was on Jamie and pushing him back on the bed and running her hands up under the starched pseudo-slabs of his gladiator skirt. She'd shed just about everything she had been wearing as she mounted the stairs, and now she wasted no time finding what she wanted under Jamie's skirt and pushing him over onto the bed. In short order she was mounting him and making full use of his sword, as Keith stood close behind her and fondled her breasts and eventually found an available sheath for his pirate rapier as well.

And hour later, and wearing the same sloppy grins, their costumes now in a bit of dishabille, the two young men rang the bell at the widow Atherton's house.

She answered the door dressed as a cat woman and stroking a black feline.

"Hello, boys," she purred as she opened the door. "Did you come to pet my pussy?"

As a matter of fact they had come with exactly that in mind, and in brief order they were settled in the den at the back of Mrs. A's house, and Keith was doing the honors in the pussy petting and dispensing the candy in that realm, and Jamie was guarding the backdoor with his sword.

The black cat had beaten a hasty, yowling retreat.

"I do so love Halloween," the widow Atherton meowed as she helped the two stumble out into the night forty-five minutes later. "Perhaps you'd be interested in some Thanksgiving sharing and in trimming my Christmas tree too."

"Sure thing, Mrs. A.," Jamie said with a big grin, as he stepped aside at the prodding of a snotty kid wanting to get past him and at the bowl of bite-sized Snickers the widow Atherton was holding out. "Count us in."

"Yep, we sure enjoyed the in," Keith chimed in.

* * * *

"Oh, God, oh shit, don't make me wait," Peg Winston moaned as she ground her pelvis into his.

He laughed a deep-throated laugh and pumped her harder and faster.

Peg cried out as he pulled all the way out and dragged the knob of his cock across her clit and dove deep again. "Oh, yes. Please, please finish me. The boys will be home soon. Oh, yes, again like that." She raked her fingernails across his muscled back and dug her heels into his calf. She couldn't get enough of him.

Faster, faster, and deeper. He was groaning now in consort with her moaning. She felt herself ready to explode. And she felt him tightening up too. This time they might come together. She felt him tense up and start to jerk, and she willed her own orgasm over the edge to meet his flow with hers. "Oh God. Yes, yes, Craig!" she cried out at the moment of release.

A short time later, she nudged him, needing him not to go to sleep, even though the glow of having him there, inside her, young and virile and capable, she knew, of doing it again and again brought on waves of want. If there only was time. But there wasn't.

"No, Craig, love," she whispered, nuzzling her head under his stubbly chin. "My husband and son will be home shortly. We can't . . ."

"Yes, we can," Peg's young, virile lover growled. "Won't take long."

And, indeed, Craig had grown inside her again and was beginning to move. In and out. He turned so that he was on his back now, her astride his pelvis and his hands on her pendulous breasts. And Peg rode him now, hard and fast. This was nothing like doing it with Burton. There was absolutely nothing like having a young, virile, bad boy like Jamie's old friend, Craig, moving his cock deep inside her.

* * * *

At the third house, the guys had to knock several times. When Mrs. Denton opened the door, she seemed rattled, and the buttons on her blouse weren't evenly matched. Her hair was mussed up, and she seemed a little disconcerted.

"Trick or treat," Jamie chirped.

"Preferably treat," Keith chimed in.

"Uh, you're a bit early, aren't you?" Mrs. Denton said in a confused voice. Didn't I say after ten?"

"It is after ten," Jamie said, his voice a little piqued.

"Oh, shit, you're right, so it is," Mrs. Denton muttered.

"Who's that? Who's there?" a deep voice sliced through from the darkened room beyond. "Christ, don't those trick or treaters know they should be finished by now."

And then the man appeared behind Mrs. Denton. And if she had looked in disarray, he looked half dressed. No pants, and the front of his shirt was tented out as an obvious signal of how Mrs. Denton had lost track of the time.

"Dad!" Jamie exclaimed in shock.

"Mr. Winton," Keith said with a bit more amusement in his voice.

"Christ almighty," Burton Winston shouted. "What in the hell are you two doing here?'

Jamie was speechless.

Keith wasn't. "Hunting cougar?" he said, barely able to contain himself.

Jamie turned and gave him a chop to the bicep.

* * * *

"It's almost midnight," Peg Winton said as she poured her husband another cup of coffee.

"Uh huh," Burton answered, pretending to be lost in the newspaper he hadn't read earlier in the day. He put the paper down, though, and picked up the coffee cup with both hands. He needed the coffee, but he didn't want Peg to see how badly his hands were shaking.

"You said eleven," Peg reminded him. "And you aren't at all worried—aren't mad?"

This was totally unlike Burton. He was always on Jamie's case about any little thing. Peg wondered what had come over him. He'd gotten home shortly after Craig had finally left. Peg hoped that Burton hadn't seen Craig on his motorcycle in the neighborhood. It was getting harder and harder to get the timing right. Maybe the reason for that was that Peg was increasingly reluctant to feel the final withdrawal of her virile, young lover's cock from inside her.

"What was that?" Burton asked in a far-away voice.

"I said, aren't you mad that Jamie hasn't made the curfew you set?"

"Uh, I'm not sure I want to see him coming through that door at all," Burton responded. "Maybe we haven't been giving him enough space. And maybe we should get him his own car—that Mustang he's had his eyes on."

Peg couldn't believe what she was hearing, but at that moment, a sweating Burton meant every word of it.