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When Cory arrived the next morning, he found Clare's doors open and her car in the driveway, but no sign of Clare herself. He looked around and then went down to the dock and scanned the lake but saw nothing amiss. The weather had changed during the night and fall was definitely here, and he really doubted she would have gone swimming in this cold wind anyhow.
He went out into the garden and out to the far side of the fence and started chopping at the dead and wilted vegetation when his eye was caught by a flash of color over by the edge of the woods. When he walked over he was surprised to see a perfectly shaped pumpkin lying in the weeds, bright orange and sleekly beautiful, and at the very peak of ripeness. A pumpkin so perfect it seemed almost supernatural.
But knowing what Clare would want, he picked up his axe and smashed it with a single blow, jumping back as the mess of seeds and goo spilled forth.
- COMMENTS
Lisieabout 12 years agoThank you for sharing your gift with us. It was another extremely erotic story. You never disappoint!
LisbethElliotover 12 years agoOnly you can entice me to read horror, erotic or otherwise. Only you can make me cum and terrify me at the same time. The sex, as always, is incredibly hot...even making me jealous of a woman being raped by plants. But your writing is so exquisitely beautiful that it brings tears to my eyes.
FaithWhiteover 12 years agoI was enjoying the first half of the story very much but all the while thinking halloween? how?.
You delivered.
Really good story and very halloweeny. loved the line botanical rape for some reason. very witty. 5/5 x 2 :)
Anonymousover 12 years agoThis story made me hot, and then made me shiver with that delightful disgust that all good horror provokes. It is truly a halloween tale.
Artina Heartflashover 12 years agoMabeuse, your details sure entwine the heart with horror and the mind with grotesque erotic images. Appropriately, the ending felt like an axe impact too.
GimletEdgeover 12 years agoSeldom is mentioned on Literotica the unreached climax with its attendant frustration. It launches Clare into a botanical coitus care of her husband's spirit. (Is it possible that she was not quite so unaware of his plight during that last attack?)
And the brash youthfulness, acting in accord with what was perceived to be her wish, destroys the fruit of a sexual lifetime in a single swipe. A morality play!
The sex is hot, the justice literary.
