Head Over Heels

The clown took hold of the sides of the pail and forced himself into the mouth slit. He rocked her back and forth, groaning as the hard molded plastic edges rubbed him.

The other masked trick-or-treaters looked at each other with unspoken confusion.

Hannah was confused, too. Even if this was his first blowjob through a plastic pumpkin... even if this was his first blowjob at all, he HAD to know there was nothing... IN there, right? Were those little battery-powered tea-lights warming him up? Surely, even a real pumpkin would at least have a nice, moist interior that could be fun to insert body parts into.

Hannah could have easily said something through the speaker and proved that her mouth was nowhere near. But that might scare them off. Instead, Hannah made lots of encouraging hums and gagging sounds, the kinds she'd heard in porn during fellatio scenes. Encouraged by this, the clown sped up. His thrusts were accompanied by an unerotic sound of something rubbing against plastic, like cutting a styrofoam plate with a plastic knife. How was he finding this comfortable, much less pleasurable?

Somehow, the clown climaxed from this, as Hannah felt a few blobs of something hot enter her esophagus.

Some women spat, some swallowed... but in this position, Hannah could only moan as she felt his seed trickle warmly down into her stomach. The warmness spread up her body and into her face, as her green cheeks took on a red color.

The clown took back himself and quickly tucked it into his underwear. "I warmed her up for ya." He said, a smirk probably hiding behind that mask.

None of his friends seemed eager to engage in sloppy seconds.

The moment of hesitation from the others sent a lightning bolt of fear into Hannah's heart. She would not be satisfied by the meager contact she had been given thus far, even if this idiot's sperm was resting in her belly next to the fun-size Snickers. She wanted more.

Hannah ripped off her skirt, revealing her little black thong wrapped around her green hips. She spun in place, pointing her rear at the men.

"Do you like it?" She shuddered. Hannah had seen her body from every angle, every way one could imagine. Never had she ever seen her body acting like this. She knew she was controlling it in the same uncertain way that she always did. But watching as four men eyed her hungrily as she bent over and posed... it felt more like she was a passive observer to this. Was this voyeurism? Was that what she was doing here? The men didn't know she was watching...

What was she thinking? Of course they knew. That was HER body they were ogling. It made no mathematical difference if her head was detached or not, or if they knew her head was in there somewhere.

"May I borrow this?" She pointed to the hockey masked man's singular prop: a plastic toy machete.

He handed it over.

Hannah fell to all fours and spanked herself with the plastic thing. Unlike her face, these cheeks got greener as she pummeled the buttock with the plastic implement. Her face just got redder.

After seven or eight smacks, the fake machete was already bending, a white crease appearing where the plastic bent at an angle. The cheap, hollow toy wasn't meant for this sort of punishment, in either sense of the word.

Hannah noticed her mistake from a distance, the 'blade' no longer standing upright, wobbling back and forth like a loose ribbon. "Sorry."

"It doesn't matter." He said softly. "It's just a toy. It was like two bucks."

Hannah doubted the character he was playing would be so forgiving. But he surely wouldn't caught using a plastic one.

She rolled back around onto her butt, sitting in the dirt, 'looking' up at the men around her. "Come on... how much more up front do I have to be?" She panted desperately.

"Are you... Irish?" The bag man asked.

"Yes, I am." Hannah answered. Not everyone guessed her accent so quickly.

The bag man looked to the goalie-masked man, stood across from him. "Redheads, man." He nodded appreciatively.

Reaching out to either side of her, Hannah grabbed the packages of both the goalie-masked man and the paper-bag masked man, pawing and massaging their bulges through their pants. "Come on... get them out for me." She moaned.

The men obliged her, pulling themselves out of their pants and placing their hardness into the soft hands of Hannah. She rolled their balls in her palms before pulling the shafts towards her. From her distant vantage point... she felt saliva gathering in her mouth. She really wanted a taste...

The ghost stood directly in front of her, seemingly holding his groin through his bedsheet. "What's wrong?" She asked, kicking off one of her high heels and slipping her foot under the sheet until the arch of her foot pressed into his groin. "I'm out of hands, but if you could do me the favor of taking my panties off, I'd be grateful."

The ghost got to the ground, caught his finger on the waistband of her panties, and slowly peeled them off her body... a tiny thread of moisture hanging from them as they slipped off her slit. She pointed her legs up in the air and he pulled them free.

The ghost looked at the tiny garment. "What do I... do with this?" He asked.

"Who cares?" Hannah said. "Keep them, if that's your thing. But you know what to do with THIS, don'cha?"

Hannah spread her legs apart.

The gagging sounds for the clown might have been fake, but the panting sounds the men were hearing through the microphone... were all authentic. Hannah had never thought she'd see herself like this, four men seeing her nudity, her unusual green skin... and have all of them wanting her. Maybe they were Star Trek fans...

The ghost moved some of the sheets away, unfastened his belt and scooped himself out from under the sheet.

This one... Hannah could see from her vantage point. The shy ghost seemed to have no reason to be so. Her body confirmed what her eyes told her, as he rubbed the hard thing against her slit. The heat coming off it made her shudder.

Hannah released the other two for a moment took the ghost's hands. "Do it. I want it." She said through the microphone. From Hanna's vantage, it really felt like she could control the porn with her voice AND feel it. What fun this was.

The ghost pulled back and pressed himself in. Hannah tensed her grip within his fingers and quaked as he got all the way in. Hannah wasn't sure it would work. She'd never been faced with such an intimidating weapon in the hands of a mortal before. But by the end, they fit together as perfectly as a sword and a scabbard.

And all this time, she thought the sword had all the fun. But what fun it was to be the scabbard...

Someone looking over at the scarecrow would wonder why she was smiling, or for what reason a scarecrow would bite her lip She wanted to shake the microphone free from her face and cry out, indicating where her head was. Let them grab her by the hair and thrust into her mouth. Even the dumb clown guy with the little thing that he probably badly chafed shoving it into the plastic slot of that pail like a dope, he can bring it over. She'll kiss it better. All while receiving it from his much more endowed friend.

Releasing the ghost's hands, she reached out to either side and wrapped them around the bag man and the hockey mask's junk once again. They had thoughtfully kept them nice and hard in her momentary absence. She tugged them forward, towards her chest. She wished she could spit into her hand and lube up these things. She wished she could lean forward and suck on them for real. She wished someone ould see her head and do what that clown fool did to that pumpkin... but for real.

Hannah didn't have much experience giving two handjobs at the same time, but neither of them seemed bothered by her performance. The bag man and the hockey mask both ejaculated about the same time, streaking white against her green breasts. She smeared the seed into both mounds until they looked like orbs of streaked jade.

"Should I..." The ghost spoke as he thrust.

"Please don't stop." She begged. "I want it all in me. Don't stop. Pleaseee..."

Hannah tensed and clutched her torso as she whimpered with intense pleasure as her orgasm crested and spread through her whole body. The ghost's hands fell on her thighs and held her still as he leaned over her and poured something hot into her, as her legs shook about behind him.

For a moment, there was quiet, but for their gasping for breath.

The ghost could barely keep himself upright, but he lifted one hand from her hips and pulled the bed sheet off his front, revealing his face. She still couldn't make out any features, other than some short brown hair and glasses.

"Before I turn back into a pumpkin... I want to kiss you."

Hannah gasped, unable to get a syllable out before he put a hand on the pail...

And it fell off, hitting the dirt with a thud.

All the men started screaming.

Hannah tried to tell them it was alright, that she'd survived a long time without an attached head, but they couldn't hear her over the panic the sudden decapitation had caused. The ghost pulled himself out of Hannah and ran to his bike, the others following. They scurried away, kicking up a plume of dust as they pedaled as hard as they could down the dirt road.

They hadn't even taken any candy for themselves. Doesn't anyone like Good and Plenty?

Her body got back to her feet. Now, she was in her own front yard, in the golden hour of sunset... with nothing and nobody touching her skin. No clothing, no strange men in costume... not even the mosquitoes.

Hannah's body walked over to where the clown had dropped that glass bottle and picked it up. It turned out it was one of those American root beers. If she ever told her friends back home that she thought she was drunk on what the locals called 'pop,' she'd never live it down.

Her body continued towards her head and removed it from the scarecrow. She brought both to her front steps and sat down... setting her head in between her legs. Her long tongue passed her lips and entered her slit.

She wasn't about to let her body hog all that jizz.