For some people the shadows come alive on Halloween.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
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Every room in the house is lit. There are lights outside shining on the house. Even the trees are wound with lights so there are no shadows. My grandmother is totally nuts about Halloween. And no, I don’t mean that she gets everything decorated and hands out candy to all the mini-extortionists who jubilantly cry out, “Trick or Treat!”
She leaves that to me, standing with a small table at the end of the walkway so the little beggars– I so wanted to misspell that– so the little beggars won’t walk onto the property and accidentally cast a shadow.
I helped her to set down her “shadow fence.” No, I didn’t help. All by myself I prepared and set down her shadow fence. It’s just a rope soaked in a mixture of wild garlic, wild onion, honey, and sage. Granny has the recipe for that written in the family Bible. It’s a real mess to prepare and before I even started I had to tie special knots to connect the 500 foot reels of cotton rope. It ends up looking like there are two nooses, one on the end of each rope, but the end piece threads back through both noose knots. Once you pull it tight, you might as well cut the rope because you are never going to untie it. The enitre length of rope goes into a big plastic barrel and soaks for seven days and seven nights. Then I have to drag that whole smelly, greasy, mess all around the outer perimiter of the property. This year I had to set up two extra sets of light because I went on the wrong side of a bush on the back side of the property. After it all met grandma’s inspection, I had to tie the special knots at the front to complete the circle.
Every Halloween is the same. It used to be Dad who prepared and laid out the special ropes. After he passed that duty fell to me. Last year, I asked grandma why we did all this. She paused a long time, looking me directly in the eyes, and then said softly, “It’s to keep the shadows from coming. We are a shadow-cursed family.”
As crazy as that reason sounded, I still promised that I would make sure the ropes and the lights were set. I even tested the emergency generator which would kick in within a half-second if the power failed. All of these super bright LED lights are on a special non-interruptible circuit with a huge battery pack, but with so many lights, even that huge pack would only last for about five minutes if the emergency generator didn’t kick in. By the time I had finished my final walk all of the way around the edge of the property to insure that the rope was continuous and well lit, it was after eleven o’clock.
Finally she was satisfied with my preparations, so I said goodbye to grandma, grabbed my cape and fake fangs, and headed for the Halloween party at Denise’s house. She met me at the door dressed in a classic naughty nurse outfit complete with fake stethoscope and a weird peaked hat with a big red cross on it. Her very pale skin wasn’t much darker than the short white skirt of her costume. The thigh-high slit on the side of the skirt displayed her long legs and made them look even longer She was wearing bight red nail polish, even brighter red lipstick, and emerald green eye shadow with black eye liner that I think she also used to slightly blacken her otherwise almost invisible eyebrows.
“Well hello, Count,” she said exuberantly, or was it supposed to be seductively? “Did you come to bite my neck?”
“Denise,” I replied, “you know that if I bit your neck, Angela would chop mine completely off.”
“I might even cut your neck,” a playful voice said from the darkness behind Denise. Angela stepped into the light. The black wig with the long black braids clearly identified her as Wednesday Friday Addams. A black outfit, black nylons, and a ton of black eye makeup completed the costume.
She turned to face Denise, pulled a fake costume knife from her belt, pressed it lightly into Denise’s exposed abdomen and said, “I would definitely cut your neck... clean off.”
Denise backed off slightly in fear. Then Angela said cooly, “Isn’t Doctor Stud looking for you?”
Denise turned and quickly went back into the party, pulling me... and Angela... along with her. As I had expected, I was the last to arrive. Daniel hugged Denise tightly as he said hello to me. He was dressed in a set of green scrubs with a white doctor’s coat over it. There was a real stethoscope draped over his neck and a large name tag with some fake hospital insignia on his chest. It proclaimed him to be “Doctor Stud.”
He definitely looked the part, standing six-foot-four and weighing 250 pounds, all of which was muscle. He was a somewhat unusual man, both physically and mentally. He was a very smart, almost genius, football player with ambitions to become a doctor. He was already accepted at four different colleges and was checking out their pre-med programs. He really didn’t care which had the best football team. Football was a temporary thing which would finance his college years. Becoming a doctor was the profession that beckoned him.
Tyrone called out to me. “It’s about time Dracula. You been getting your crazy granny’s Halloween fortress prepared?”
I smiled and said, “Of course. Same as every year since Dad passed.” Then I stepped over to Tyrone and Chiamaka. They were dressed in old-fashioned black suits with identical antique white shirts and black bowler hats. Tyrone was wearing a dark blue bow tie with white polka dots on it. Chiamaka had a maroon necktie which seemed rather short as it dangled over the edge of her at least double D breasts. If you saw either of them individually you might not guess who they were supposed to be, even with Chiamaka’s pasted-on toothbrush mustache. But pencil-thin Tyrone standing next to rather well-endowed Chiamaka made their characters complete. As I approached, Chiamaka lifted her tie and wagged it at me like a long fabric tongue.
I couldn’t resist. “Ah, I get it,” I said gleefully, “Laurel and Hardy.” Only I pointed to Chiamaka when I said, “Laurel,” and at Tyrone as I said, “Hardy.”
Chia shook her head and said flatly, “One hundred percent backwards, as usual.”
I leaned in to Tyrone and said, “I wonder if anyone would get it if you had both dressed in white suits, white shoes, black shirts, and white and gray ties?”
They both looked at me totally lost. “Film negatives,” I said. “Get it?”
Chia sighed and said, “Yeah, I get it. Got any other racial jokes up your sleeve?”
“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean that to be racial. But I think in visual terms and a black Laurel and Hardy just made me think of what they might look like in a black and white negative.”
“Actually,” Tyrone said, punching me lightly on the shoulder, “if I had thought of that, we might have done it.”
Chia just looked back and forth between both of us and said in an exasperated tone, “Men... black, white, green, blue or whatever, they are all the same.”
Luckily she joined Tyrone and I in our laughter.
I used that happy point as a exit to go say hello to Cindy and Sandy. They almost always dressed somewhat similarly, if not identically so it was no surprise that their costumes were almost identical. They were both wearing very tight... no, make that very, very tight black spandex pants that went all the way down to cover their ankles. On top they were wearing tight, but not form fitting, red sweatshirts. On the front of each sweatshirt was a big white circle. In Cindy’s circle was a big #1. In Sandy’s was a big #2.
As I approached, Cindy and Sandy said in unison, “Welcome Dracula, did you come to bite our necks?”
“Angela would cut off my... fangs,” I answered with a laugh.
Cindy laughed and said, “We’re not your blood type anyway.”
“And it wouldn’t be his fangs that I would be cutting off,” a firm voice said from behind me.
I turned around to see Angela with Wednesday’s fake knife pointing at me. “I think it’s time you danced with me,” she said faking anger. Well, at least I hoped it was faked anger.
“You know I can’t dance,” I said. My eyebrows were raised in a hopeful expression that clearly said, “Do I have to?”
“Everyone can dance to this one,” Angela said as she pulled me over to a clear area near the kitchen door. A boombox was sitting on a small table and as soon as we arrived she reached over and punched one of the buttons on top of it. Almost immediately a bad impersonation of Boris Karlof began, “I was working in my lab late one night...”
Angela was right, anyone can dance to “The Monster Mash.” I was soon stomping and swaying like a monster. All eight of us were now dancing. Somehow Cindy and Sandy made the same stomping and swaying look actually graceful.
Just as the song ended, we could all hear the clock in the town hall strike midnight. “That’s odd,” Denise said. “You can’t usually hear the clock from here, especially with the windows closed.”
Then it happened, or more correctly, then it began to happen. The lights flickered slightly and got... dimmer. Denise yelled, “What’s that?” She was pointing as something moving on the floor in front of her.
Daniel pulled her close to him and said, “Don’t be hysterical. It’s just your shadow.”
Denise was now almost crying as she said, “But I’m not moving like that.”
Everyone stared at Denise’s shadow. It looked like her shadow, but there was no short skirt or weird nurse’s cap. The shadow appeared to be naked... and it was humping the air.
I looked around at everyone’s shadows. They were all naked and all simulating sexual activity. Cindy’s and Sandy’s shadows were locked in a tight sixty-nine. Tyrone’s and Chiamaka’s were chasing each other around the room. Actually it was Chia’s shadow that was chasing Tyrone’s... and the shadow was carrying a huge paddle.
Angela grabbed my hand and said firmly, “We need to get out of here!”
“It’s too late,” I said as I watched my shadow slowly absorb into my body. That’s the last thing I remembered clearly until we all woke up naked in a pile in the middle of the room. I was the first to awaken. It was almost noon and the sun was shining brightly through all of the windows. The house was now very bright. There were no shadows.
Tyrone began to stir. “Man, that was some bad shit,” he muttered as he shook his head and tried to come fully awake. “I had some really freaky dreams,” he said in a very slurred voice.
“What do you remember?” I asked.
“I remember getting naked,” he answered. “And then Chia was chasing me around the room with this big leather paddle. She caught me and sat down on one of the chairs and started whaling away on my ass.”
“And you liked it,” Chia said with a smile. “I’ve never seen you that big or that hard. I threw your black ass down on the floor and jumped on you. Then I rode you like a bucking bronco.”
“How do you know my dream?” Tyrone stuttered out.
Cindy and Sandy stood up and walked over behind Chia. Sandy said, “I don’t think it was a dream.” Then Cindy said rather nervously, “Chia, you were crying, ‘Suck my tits,’ and our shadows sort of zoomed inside us and suddenly we were naked and kneeling on each side of you. I was suckling on you like a hungry baby... a very hungry baby.”
Cindy blushed slightly and looked at the floor. “I’ve always wondered what your magnificent boobs would be like in bed and the shadow... sort of took over.”
“Same with me,” Sandy said. “Cindy’s got great little titties, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to suckle on some really big tits with huge nipples. And you’ve got really big nipples, Chia, especially when you are as turned on as you were after spanking Tyrone.”
“After you blew,” Cindy continued, “you sort of threw Sandy and me back onto the floor and dropped down flat on Tyrone so we went back to sucking each other’s titties.”
“And other things,” Sandy said with a giggle.
“So these shadows make you do what you were afraid to do?” Daniel said. He was rubbing his chin like a therapist acknowledging a deep revelation. Then he nodded his head and said, “That’s very interesting.”
“Not as interesting as you and Tyrone spit-fucking me,” Denise said with a snorting laugh. “I don’t remember when it was, but you were in my ass and I was sucking off Tyrone.” She made a strange face as if she were thinking very hard and continued. “I’ve always wondered if a black guy tasted the same as a white guy.” She screwed up her face even more and said, “The spunk tasted the same, but his prick had this different, tangy taste.”
Both Cindy and Sandy laughed and Cindy said, still laughing, “It’s obvious you’ve never gone down on a woman, have you, Denise? Tyrone’s prick had Chiamaka’s cunt juices on it. So now you know what a black prick AND a black cunt taste like.”
Sandy added, “I’ve had all sizes and flavors and if the lights are out, you can’t tell what color the pussy is you’re lapping.”
Cindy laughed and said, “Except that we are all pink on the inside.”
I looked over at Angela and asked, “What about us? Do you remember anything?”
She laughed and said, “Don’t tell me you can’t remember going around the world... plus a couple out of this world stops at Uranus.”
It all came flooding back to me. Angela and I were naked and sort of watching everyone else when she grabbed me with amazing strength and lay me down on my back. “This is your stewardess speaking,” she said in a strange falsetto that I had never heard from her before. “The round the world tour starts now. Our first stop is France.”
She got over me in a sixty-nine position and lightly licked my prick. Then she pushed her cunt against my face and said, “The tour doesn’t start until someone lights my engines.”
I knew what she meant and started licking and nuzzling her cunt. I’ve eaten her out before, but this time she smelled... different. I really couldn’t describe the difference except that there was something wild about the smell of her pussy.
I kept licking and slurping until I saw that her clit was starting to engorge. That was the only sign that she was starting to get turned on. I latched onto her clit and started gently sucking. I almost pulled my mouth away when it started growing way beyond what it normally did. But at that point Angela started moaning and rocking her slit against my face. AND she pulled my entire prick into her mouth.
Now I was suckling like a newborn calf and she was bouncing like an empty truck on a bad gravel road. I really don’t know how long we kept that up until suddenly she called out, “Now!” and really sucked hard on my prick. I really wanted to bite her clit, but somehow I still knew that would physically hurt her so I instead sucked really hard and pressed as hard as I could with my lips.
We both exploded. I don’t know that I have ever shot that much cum before. And for the first time ever, she squirted... something... into my mouth. And there was no way that it was urine. I know what part of her anatomy I was sucking on and it was her clit.
She lay against me for a short while and then said in her stewardess voice, “Second stop, England.”
She rolled over and lay on the floor with her legs spread. I almost groaned out, “Give me a little time,” then I realized that I was fully erect and more than ready for action.
Since Angela was already humping the air I figured that additional foreplay wasn’t really necessary and positioned myself between her legs. I slid all the way into her cunt on my first thrust. The way she was bouncing, I probably could have just positioned myself above her and let her do all the work, but I knew that it would be much better if I timed my thrusts with hers and met her half-way, so to speak.
Neither of us was speaking or moaning but it was still a very noisy fuck. The sound when our groins slapped together was like a wet towel smacking someone’s naked ass. I thought I could hear Tyrone softly chanting, “Go, go, go, go, go,” but I wasn’t sure if he was referring to me or something else going on in the room.
Finally Angela called out, “Now!” and I slammed into her as hard as I could. We were both flat on the floor for just a few seconds before we both screamed out in ecstasy. I’ve never lost control so completely during sex. I knew I was moaning and shrieking and thrashing around but I had no idea what Angela... or anyone else... was doing.
Finally I was on the floor on my back breathing heavily. Angela was licking at my prick. When I looked down at her she smiled and said, “Next stop Greece.” She handed me a small bottle of olive oil that had been on the table with the food and said, “All aboard.”
She got on all fours and said, “Remember you have to prepare the passage before you enter the tunnel.”
We had only done anal twice before. Angela didn’t like it. So I was somewhat surprised that she had instigated it tonight. But I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the ass or whatever. I poured some of the oil on the top of her ass slit and as it ran down toward her anal rose, I pushed one finger against her pucker hole. I was surprised when it went in almost without resistance. I was even more surprised when two fingers slipped easily in. Three were a little tighter but after just a couple thrusts with my hand, her ass was open and welcoming.
I positioned myself behind her and placed the tip of my prick against the center of her rosebud. I was planning to push in very gently and let her slowly get used to me, but she surprised me by ramming her ass back against me so that I was balls deep on the first thrust.
Again, I could have just remained motionless and let her do all the work, but I instead timed my thrusts so that we met with an even louder squishy “smack!” each time my groin slammed against her ass.
She began screaming and pulled me down on top of her on the floor. Her arms and legs were thrashing about and she was yelling, “Now! Now! Now!”
I erupted inside of her, but somehow I didn’t really climax. I mean I spurted a ton of cum, but there was no orgasmic release. A moment later, she lifted up so that I was back on my knees. Then the stewardess voice said, “Time for some out of this world sex.”
I moved back and pulled my prick out of her ass. There was a slight, “pop” as I pulled my still stiff member clear of her anal canal.
“Assume the position!” she said loudly and firmly, but still in that artificial stewardess voice.
When I remained kneeling, she said more softly, “On your hands and knees, lover boy.”
I think I mumbled, “OK,” as I got into position. I still wasn’t sure what was going on until I felt the olive oil trickle onto my ass crack. I tensed up as I felt a finger press against my sphincter.
“No, no,” Angela said, “you have to relax it. Or pretend like you are taking a dump.”
I tried to relax things as the finger slid in and out, in and out, in and out. After a while it was moving easily. I almost tensed up when the second finger joined the first, but soon they, too, were moving easily. I was expecting the third, but not the forth and was surprised when they also began moving easily in and out.
“A little more lubrication before takeoff,” Angela said, still speaking in the stewardess voice. She poured more olive oil down my ass crack and the pressed against my pucker hole with the tip of a dildo. Since I couild feel her legs between mine I could only assume it was a strap-on though I had no idea where it came from. As she pushed slowly into me I heard her say in her normal voice, “Blasting off to Uranus.”
I’d never had anything up there before. I was surprised that it felt so good. I was further surprised when my prick began to become swollen and erect. Angela made several slow strokes in and out of me and then began to thrust almost violently. I could hear her grunting each time her hips slammed into my ass. This time the noise was different. There was no “splat.” Instead the noise was harder, more like a “slap.”
I was becoming aroused, but not going really high. Angela was obviously approaching orgasm. Her thrusts were becoming shorter and faster. Then suddenly she screamed, “Now!” and I felt my balls tense up and cum began spurting out onto the floor. She pushed hard against me and I felt myself going face down onto the floor. Angela lay on my back for a long time panting heavily. Darkness seemd to overwhelm me and the next thing I knew I was waking up in a naked pile along with everyone else. Angela must not have passed out at the same time as I did because she wasn’t wearing a strap-on when I woke up.
“You remember.” Angela said, smiling up at me. She looked at everyone else and asked, “Do you all remember?”
Tyrone answered, “I remember most of it, but once I fell asleep or whatever, that was it.”
Everyone else nodded in agreement. Then Daniel asked, “But can anyone explain what happened?”
I took a deep breath and said slowly, “My family is shadow-cursed.” I startled to hear Angela saying the exact same thing as she stood next to me.
We both suddenly turned to look at each other. Then she signaled with her hand that I should continued, so I said, “For reasons known only to the ancient past, the shadows around our family can come alive at midnight on Halloween. This usually occurs only at the family home. You know what my grannie does to keep the shadows out.”
I looked over at Angela and said, “And you also know that Angela’s parents were killed in a plane crash when she was small.”
Angela pointed to herself and I nodded. She said, “I knew about the shadows but had never seen them before tonight. Evidently having both of us here,” She pointed back and forth between myself and her. “Evidently having both of us here tonight brought enough energy or whatever together to allow the shadows to appear.”
“But what about us?” wailed Denise. “Is it like werewolves where once the shadows have come to you they are with you forever?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied, “but I really don’t know. I will have to ask Granny. But this I do know. Angela and I are meant for each other. After I finish college, I plan to return and establish an accounting business here in town.”
“And I plan to become a nurse in the local hospital,” Angela said.
“See,” I said brightly “we are meant for each other.”
She looked up at me and said, “Maybe we are meant for each other, but let’s take it easy. And in the meantime, we don’t go to any Halloween parties together.”
I laughed and replied, “... unless that party is at Granny’s.”