Trick or Trini

"Oh, that's easy," I said. "You turned an ugly thing I wasn't sure I ought to be doing into the funnest, most satisfying night I've had in years. When you met me at that door, I felt like I was as beautiful a sight as you'd ever seen — not just sexy or sizzling, but really and truly beautiful. And you kept making me feel that way. Even after I told you what was up and you got hellacious pissed at those asswipes you called friends. Even after — especially after you got your dick up my ass and most guys would've been out of their heads with losing their virginity, you kept acting like I mattered. You wanted me to feel good — needed me to feel good. I fuck a lot of guys, and I'm not saying none of them ever care about whether I get off, but whether they're all about themselves or they like their sex mutual, the string of them blurs together after a while. I like my job — sometimes I love my job. But it's a job, you know? And you weren't."

He nodded and said, "Hmm," and then some more kids came up.

* * *

Once the sun went all the way down and the spooks really started to come out, it only took about forty-five minutes or an hour for us to blow through those buckets of Kit-Kats and Snickers. Of course, I'll admit I gave out two and sometimes three at a time when Wyn had his hands full and wasn't keeping an eye on me. I figured if the aunt had her heart set on being so generous, limiting it to one per kid would defeat the purpose.

And take longer than I wanted it to.

Out of candy, we shut things down ahead of eight o'clock and carried the empty plastic cauldrons back in the house, where as soon as we set them on the pantry floor, I took hold of Wyn's arm and pulled him close.

"So. Trick or treat."

"God, I honestly don't know," he said. "'Treat' sounds fantastic, but I was in on that trick you pulled on Pete and Jack, and that was pretty amazing too."

"Well, while you're trying to decide ..." I put one hand in his hair and ran the other down his waist to his belt and then over to the handle of that toy gun. Tugging up on it, I said, "Oh, look. Your blaster has come out of its holster."

Wyn swallowed as I slid down to my knees in front of him, rotating the black pistol up from its holder so that the trigger hung at his hip and the barrel pointed out at me. My other hand trailed slowly southward across his chest, his abs — then turned and swept around to grab his ass, while I leaned over open-mouthed to breathe right at the tip of that black plastic barrel.

I flexed and pursed my lips, not quite making contact with the gun, gaping wide to waggle my tongue millimeters from its end, then puckering to all but brush against it.

"Oh, geez," he said.

I leaned forward and took the flared nozzle in, plugging it with my tongue so that when I sucked, there was a complete seal and my cheeks curved inward from the vacuum.

"Nnnnn," I said through my nose. His breathing sped up as I dug my fingers into his ass-cheek and worked at the end of that toy.

"Shit, that's so hot. I can't tell if this is trick or treat."

I popped loose and looked up at him. "Let's see if I can help you figure it out."

Going down on the blaster again, I drew spiraling curves with my index finger along his butt, around his thigh, up around his bellybutton, down to his belt buckle, which I tugged at for just a second, and then onward to his fly. He breathed even faster, while I swirled my mouth around the gun at his hip. After a few fingertip-flicks up and down at his zipper, I reached for my own holster and got my blunt-ended phaser pistol loose, raising it up to his crotch to press against and then circle the bulge there.

"Ahh ... Trini, that's ..."

I pulled free again and met his eyes, rubbing the rounded tip of my toy weapon gently up and down his erection.

"Pshew, pshew, pshew," I whispered. Then I gave the blaster a long, slow lick. "I think this one's out of ammo. Maybe you have a backup concealed ... somewhere?"

"Uh-huh ..."

I tucked his pistol back in the holster and patted it, then tugged open the buckle of the gun-belt and let it drop. Still caressing his hard-on with my ray-gun, I slowly undid the belt that held his pants, unbuttoned them, ticked the zipper inch-by-inch downward. Then, as I reached for the y-front of his undies, Wyn cleared his throat.

"Hey, Trini? Before we get to that, do you think you could come up here and, uh, kiss me for a minute?"

"Oh, shit, am I going too fast, sweetie?" I half-jumped up, heels putting me a hair taller than him so I was looking down into his eyes. "I'm sorry, you've just got me so worked up — I swear, maybe ninety percent of my masturbation the last six months was —"

But his arms went around me and he pulled me close and kissed me, eyes closed, so that everything went away and I was just being held and tasted and wrapped in feeling. It went on and on until I made a little sound in my throat. I couldn't even tell you exactly what it was. But Wyn pulled back and looked at me.

"Only ninety percent?" he asked. "I'm going to have to up my game, obviously."

I laughed so hard I snorted and had to bite my lower lip in embarrassment. Then I said, "Kiss me some more."

He did — gently and passionately at the same time. He had one hand at the small of my back and the other swaying back and forth across my shoulder blades. My tits felt his chest crushed against them, rising and falling with the strength of his breath. I realized I still had my laser pistol in one hand, pressed flat against his spine while my other hand tangled itself in the short hair at the back of his head. I let the phaser gun drop and clatter to the floor, then used the free hand to pull him closer by the tailbone so I could grind against him and feel the rigid arousal in his crotch with my own. He moaned past my lips with his tongue extended through them.

The hand at the small of my back went down to my ass. The other one joined it. I rolled and humped with my pelvis at their urging. Then his fingers dug into the cloth of my skirt, bunching it up, scraping it higher and higher to expose the thighs above my nylons to open air. He got hold of the hem, lifted it even farther. Another tug, and a wiggle of his hips, and he had it up high enough for the root of his cock to rub straight against my panties.

"Uhh ... niiiice ..." I moaned, helplessly breaking our kiss. His mouth slipped along my jaw and nibbled its way down my throat. I tried to dip my head and get back to it, but he kept going, sucking at my collarbone, then kissing down the low neckline of the dress to my cleavage. And before I knew it, he'd gone to his knees. "Oh, fuck — now who's moving fast? Where are you going, sweetheart?"

He grinned up at me. "Where no Wyn has gone before."

"Are you sure you — nnhhhhh ..."

With one hand keeping my skirt aloft, he cupped the other to my now-engorged shaft, hefted it, rubbed it. "Fuck, that feels so good ... but you really don't have to — ooh!"

He squeezed just right.

"I know," he said. "But you don't think you're the only one who's been having masturbation fantasies the last six months, do you?"

"Apparently not," I breathed. He got his fingers in the waistband of my panties and worked them down until the beefy beast jumped out.

"Wow," he said, watching it rise and throb right in front of his face. His left hand moved to my root and encircled it. That grip made me surge to peak stiffness and rolled a drop of precum out of my tip. "This thing is really hard."

"Uh-huh. I have a good endocrinologist and a crazy mad natural libido. Now, you're going to have to do something down there or switch places with me, sweetie, because —"

He licked.

"Fuck, yessss," I gasped. Wyn kept his eyes on mine and made little tasting movements with his lips.

"Not bad," he said. His hand squeezed. Another bead swelled out of me. He opened wide and leaned forward, taking my crown in but not making contact with anything but his tongue, which he ran back and forth along the bottom of my shaft, then rolled in little waves to lollipop me. Finally, he sealed down and sucked in his cheeks, easing me deeper and deeper into the warm, soft heaven of his mouth.

"I'm so not used to this," I panted. "It's always me getting the knee-calluses."

He popped loose. "It's kind of fun. You may have to get used to it."

Then he went down on me and bobbed several times, never breaking eye contact, his nose flaring cutely as he breathed.

"Jesus, Wyn, you do your research on this part too?"

"Nn-nnh," he said around me, shaking his head slightly in a way that slid me back and forth between his cheeks.

"Well you're a fucking natural then. Ahh, that feels so good. Yes, baby, come on, suck me ..."

He really went at it with gusto, milking me with his hand, sloshing on and off with his mouth. A couple of times I saw him go too far and squint a little at the start of a gag. But he never pulled all the way off, just slowed and went shallower for a few strokes until he got his rhythm back.

It felt fantastic.

A few minutes in, I was going crazy. "Wyn, honey ... I'm getting close ... oh, god. But I've just got to get your cock in my mouth. Please? Can I lie down and — mmh, fuck, uhh — have you drop that sweet thing ... into my throat while you get me there?"

He slowly released me, letting my damp shaft cool and throb in the open air with only his hand still around the base.

"Sure."

"Oh, god, thank you." I dropped to my butt and lay flat, pulling at his legs to hurry him into place as he switched around, then wrestling his pants and briefs loose to free that stiff, pale length of wonder right over my face. His lips slid down almost to my root, making me gasp. With all my strength, I yanked his ass down and raised my head to gorge on him. He moaned around my rod and started bobbing with a vengeance.

Holy shit, it feels so good. I'm going to come so fucking fast ...

Normally, I might have tried to hold back, get us to come at around the same time. But right then, there wasn't a prayer it would work. Unlike my usual on-the-job work sex or off-the-clock play sex, I wasn't focused on making someone else feel good, or getting myself to feel good. My whole world had turned into the gliding, wet, delicious, wonderful understanding of someone else wanting me to feel good.

As his cock plunged in and out of my mouth, I groaned and thrust up past his lips, hearing him murmur encouragement around my probing, joy-swollen shaft.

"Mm-hmm," he said, "mm-hmm, mm-hmm ..."

He wants me to come. He wants me to come in his mouth. Oh god, I'm going to ...

And then I was there.

"MMMMMMMhhhhh!"

Fuck, Wyn!

The orgasm curved my whole body up against him, a skyscraper arch with a cock fountain at the top, gushing, gushing, shooting cum into the clouds like a lightning rod pulling down a gazillion volts of electric charge. And he stayed on me the whole time, swallowing, squeezing with his hand in time to my throbs until the last one finished and I collapsed to the floor.

His cock left my mouth, and he slowly released mine and turned around to lie beside me as I gasped and tried to recover.

"So I guess that was okay, huh?"

I laughed and pulled him to me and kissed him, feeling the hard floor of the pantry beneath me more and more with each ebb of reality back into place.

"Oh, baby, yes," I said. "Way more than okay. Put a pair of boobs on you and you'd steal all my customers away."

"I don't think my legs are as nice as yours, but I'll take your word for it."

"Hmm." I smiled at him, put a hand to his cheek, watched his blue-green eyes watching mine. Then I patted his face and let go. "So what do you want me to do for you?"

"Well, if you brought condoms and lube, I wouldn't mind going in the spare bedroom, getting naked, and having sex with you."

I gave him a couple of wide-eyed blinks. "Condoms? Lube? Oh, darn, I can't believe I forgot those."

He laughed, stood up, and gave me a hand to my feet.

* * *

In the spare bedroom, I had him unzip me and help me out of the dress. His hands glided over every inch of my flesh as the cloth left it. Then they unhooked my bra and found the full, dark globes of my breasts as I slipped free of the straps and cups.

"Naked-naked?" I asked, letting him fondle me from behind while I got my panties the rest of the way down and off. "Or would you like to fuck me in these boots and stockings?"

"Oh geez," he said. "Is dating you going to involve a lot of ridiculously hard questions like that?"

I stepped away and turned, heart lumping off-kilter in my chest. Not wanting to show it, I gave him a provocative lift of one eyebrow. "It's going to involve a lot of ridiculously hard something. 'Ridiculously hard' will for sure be a major theme."

He smirked, shook his head, looked me up and down with amazed eyes. I put my hands on my hips and cocked them fiercely to maximize the effect: three or four inches taller than him in the high-heeled boots, my long, satiny legs wrapped in leather and dark nylon, a mostly faded erection hanging from my clean-shaved crotch under the soft curve of my tummy. Big, round breasts. Even bigger, rounder explosion of hair curling out from my head. Confidently squared shoulders. He took it all in and took his time about saying anything.

When the silence went on long enough, I said, "So ... you're planning on dating me, then?"

His eyes jumped straight up to mine. "Well ... yeah, if that's not being presumptuous. I mean, I assume there's a lot more to you than a couple of hours of conversation and some hot sex. And I haven't even had a chance to tell you all about my accounting job yet."

"Ooh, accounting," I said, moving closer again. "I will totally let you bone me several times a week if I get to hear about accounting."

"It's mostly done with spreadsheets these days," he said. His hands went to my waist as I started unbuttoning his shirt. Then he nodded toward the bed. "If you want a demonstration, I'll be happy to spread you on those sheets right now."

"Ha!" I said. Then I leaned in and kissed him until I had the shirt off. "Made a decision about the boots yet?"

"Yeah, the boots are staying on this time. You said there'd be more fucking after dinner, right? We'll do it without the boots after dinner."

"Nice," I said. I picked my purse up from the floor where I'd dropped it while undressing. Wyn got his shoes and socks and pants off while I took out the condoms and my little bottle of lube. Damn, he has definitely toned up since April, I thought. He didn't quite have a six-pack, but his belly had gone from soft to tight, and his pecs had more heft and definition. Not that any of this could entirely distract me from the main view: his still-very-hard cock jutting out, begging for attention. I let my eyes linger on it. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid I'm going to have to suck on that some before it can go in my ass."

He watched me close in on him. "Okay. If you insist."

Without touching him yet, I got to my knees and set the lube and condom box on the carpet. The anxious beam of his dick pulsed with every heartbeat, inches from my mouth.

"Mm, mm, mmm," I said. "You may have to push me off to get me to stop."

He opened his mouth to say something back, but before he could, I gave a lunge and deep-throated him, no hands. All the way down, nose in his pubes, I tensed and loosened and rolled and squeezed every muscle in my throat, cheeks, lips, tongue.

"Holy shit," he gasped. "I don't want to push you off ... but that's going to make me come really fast ... if you ... keep it up ..."

I rolled my neck back and slipped off of him. "I don't mind if we save the boots-on fucking for after dinner and the boots-off fucking for after breakfast."

"Whatever you want," he said. "I'll do whatever you want me to."

I took about half a second, then wiped my mouth and hopped to my feet, condoms and lube in hand again. "I want you to bury it in me and give me the rump-hump of my life."

"Yes, ma'am."

I know what I'm doing with condoms, so in about two seconds, I had him bagged up and ready to ride. He hummed appreciatively at the quick coating of lube I gave him with one hand, and then I reached behind myself and wiped the remainder in my crack.

"Now," I said, stepping around him to the bed. Legs straight, I leaned over and put my hands to the mattress, poking my bottom out in his direction. "Like this? Or —" I crawled hands and knees to the center of the bed. "— like this? Or like this?" For the final choice, I rolled over and hiked up my legs, hands behind the knees, spiked heels way up in the air.

"Uh, can we start off the first way and end up the last way?"

"Perfect," I said. A heartbeat later, I was back off the bed and presenting my wet and ready backside to him.

"Jesus, Trini. You are so hot."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Get to it, mister."

He stepped in behind me, and I set my feet wide and got ready to loosen everything up. With my hands on the mattress, the best I could do was get him in my peripheral vision, even with my shoulders and neck twisted. So I couldn't really see his expression, but I could hear in his breathing how excited the site of my waiting ass made him

Then his tip brushed against me, and I lowered my head and closed my eyes and found my own breathing racing too. His palm spread flat across my tailbone. The reservoir at the end of the condom tickled my sphincter, then pressed in.

"Oooh ..."

Pressed harder.

"Mmm ..."

His hand slid from my tailbone to take hold of my waist.

He pushed.

Intruded.

Popped through as I relaxed.

I let out a "Guhhh ..." and he gave an "Uhfff!" and then he was in and sliding, sliding, sliding deeper within me.

"Oh Wyn, fuck, yes ..."

"Uhhh —"

His pubic hair brushed against my crack, compressed, and flattened, until his crotch rested completely flush with my bottom and I felt the bulge of his cockhead rooted inside me at maximum depth. He held me there, in bliss, both of us panting, his hands seized tight to my waist. Then he pulled a couple inches back out and did it again.

"Uh-huh, yeah," I said. "Goddamn fuck me like that."

"Mmh!" he grunted, feeding me another thrust. "Ngh, Jesus ..."

Each push rocked me harder and faster against the edge of the bed.

"Yes! That! Ohfuck, yes!"

"Uhh," he said. "Uh-huh ... Trini, it's so good ..."

Bam! Bam! Bam!

"Yes, Wyn, pound it in there, sweetie!"

The way he tooled in and out of me hit my prostate just right and got my own cock swelling back up again. I remembered that first night, on his birthday, his hand coming around to grab hold of me ...

"Ahh — god — I have to stop ..."

He pulled out, gasping and doubled over with his hands on his knees.

"Whoo, geez. Almost ... lost it there ..."

When I looked at him, he grinned weakly and said, "Sorry!"

"Sorry? Shit, honey, that was some prime stuff there. You ready for me to get on my back?"

He nodded, still getting his breath back. I threw aside the comforter that covered the bed, arranged some pillows, and gave my sexiest squirm getting into place. For good measure, I brought the lube bottle with me.

"Boots on, legs up," I said, pulling my thighs up and open and aiming my heels for the ceiling. "Whenever you're ready."

He crawled onto the bed and maneuvered into place before my lifted bottom. The pole of my erection hadn't gone back down yet, and he stared at it, took hold of it as he lined himself up.

"I like how your hand feels on me," I breathed. He stroked me in response, then eased his hips forward, dimpling my asshole inward. "Ooh ..."