Halloween Date

"What the hell good is practicing witchcraft if you can't even get a little love magic going in your own life?" said Ron, talking to himself in the antique hall mirror. "I'm not that bad looking...am I?"

A strange, ethereal voice filled his ears. "No Ron, you're the fairest of them all!"

He spun around, catching Meg before she could duck down behind the couch once more. Red-faced and no longer able to restrain her laughter, she came across the room towards him.

"And how long have you been spying on me?" he said, his voice giving immediate lie to the anger he meant to feign.

"I'm sorry, Ron, but that was priceless. Just for a minute, you looked like you'd found Snow White's magic mirror."

"Well, it was kind of a personal moment. Hey, don't go telling everybody I talk to myself, OK?"

"You got it. Sounds like you got enough problems going on right now. What happened to Jackie?"

"Dumped again. We went out a couple of times, but I guess the chemistry just wasn't there. Do you know how long it's been since sex was anything but a solo event?"

"Hey, at least your hand still respects you. Oh shit, I'm sorry, that was pretty low, wasn't it?"

"It's OK."

"Hey, I heard that first part you said. To the mirror, I mean. Have you tried to, well, use any magic to 'find that special someone'?"

"I tried a spell or two, but nothing seemed to work. It's as though magic only works if I do it to help somebody else, I can't seem to do anything for me. Normally, I don't mind that, but..."

"But you'd like to bring a little magic home, wouldn't you? Give it time, Ron. You know as well as any of us that magic can take some time to work. Hey, Halloween's only a week away; maybe something big will happen before then."

Later that night, Ron lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept through the night, usually his mind either wouldn't allow him to fall asleep, or else awoke him long before dawn. As always, his mind turned to her.

He and Ann had been together forever, it seemed. They had known each other since grade school, and had always been the closest of friends. Playing doctor as kids had given way to greater sexual adventures as they had matured, and even though they both dated other people, they had always found each other once more. Always, that is, until that terrible day a year ago.

She had left that morning to go to work, and had never returned. When he checked, Ron discovered that she had never made it to work, in fact, no one had seen her or her car after Ron had watched her pull out of the driveway. It was as though she had driven into thin air.

But these were the thoughts that kept Ron awake at night, and he was seeking instead those that might allow him to sleep. And so he thought of another time with Ann, a happier time.

Autumn had been warmer and drier than usual, and the two of them were in the woods every weekend. Both of them loved the sensual overload of the season, the bright reds and yellows against the blue sky, the sound of the dead leaves underfoot, the smell of the air. Walking along, hand in hand, it was hours before they stopped to rest.

The two of them lay down on a bed of leaves, staring at the sky. Ann rolled over and stared down at Ron, her light brown hair hanging in his face. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down on him, their lips meeting first. Their tongues soon followed, intertwining wrestling passionately.

Never breaking the embrace, her hand crept between them, finding the buttons of his flannel shirt and popping them free, slowly, one at a time. As each one was released, he felt her touch on his skin, her fingers running through the hair on his chest.

Finally, his shirt lay wide open, and now her lips left his. Slowly she moved her face to the side, nibbling gently at his neck, then biting harder.

His hands had slid lower, across her back, now feeling her firm buttocks through the coarse material of her jeans. He kneaded them, then slid his hands back up, pulling the back of her shirt out as he did so. Gently he caressed the soft skin at the small of her back.

She moved lower on his body, her mouth now at his chest. She took his nipple into her mouth, sucking gently at first, then more roughly, letting him feel her teeth just a little. He moaned his appreciation as she moved from one to the other, teasing and enticing him.

Wanting to return the attention, he had managed to lift her sweatshirt up high enough to expose her breasts, and his hands were filled with their firm softness. He squeezed them gently, rolling the nipples between thumb and index finger on both hands, feeling them stiffen in response to his touch.

She moved lower still, her hands unfastening his pants, then reaching within them. He groaned when she touched him, his cock throbbing as she wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed. Without a word, he raised his ass slightly and she freed him from his confinement.

She stopped moving for a moment, her face hovering just below his waist, then she opened her mouth slightly, her hot breath on him exciting him even further. Suddenly her tongue darted out, licking at him, electrifying him. Every touch from her warm wet tongue brought a renewed throb, his breathing growing forever faster.

When she opened her mouth and took him inside, he moaned aloud. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock as she slid it slowly in and out of her mouth, his moans now taking on a feverish pitch. Her lips pressed tightly around, sliding up and down his shaft as her tongue kept its own rhythm.

What the hell was that? Ron left his fantasy quickly, his body less than pleased with the timing. But something had brought him out, back to the reality of his dark bedroom. He felt adrenaline rushing throughout him; whatever it was, it had awakened his instincts completely.

He reached for the bedside lamp, and, turning the switch, expected to be blinded by the brilliant light. But no light came forth, as he turned the switch again and again, he realized that even the clock radio was offering no illumination. The power was out. He lay there in the dark, listening for any sound, any indication that he was indeed not alone.

But it was not his ears that first detected the presence, the only sound they heard was that of his heart pounding wildly. Instead, it was his skin. He wanted to scream when he felt it touch his hand, a touch like the touch of a feather brushed gently across the skin. He did not scream, but held his breath, fearing that any noise, any sudden movement might be his last.

The feather touch continued, working its way up his arm, then down across his chest, creeping between his body and the blankets that covered it. Little more than a tickle, it continued to move rhythmically across his chest, then down to his belly. It touched his cock, no longer erect, and lingered there, tickling him softly. Continuing down his legs, he felt it brush the soles of his feet, and then, it was gone.

Ron knew instinctually that it was gone, knew that it had left the room, left the house. Still, he found it impossible to sleep that night.

In the morning, with the sunlight streaming through the window, it was hard to fully remember the level of fright that had gripped him in the darkness. Ron suspected that his visitor the night before had not been a living, breathing creature, but something beyond the normal. Halloween was the time of year when the veil between the living and the dead was at its thinnest, and the closer that date approached, the stronger might be the entity that had visited him. Precautions were in order.

He spent most of the day cleansing the house, casting a protective circle around it. The people across the street who glanced in his direction that day saw their strange neighbor walking repeatedly around the perimeter of the house, sprinkling something out of a brass bowl onto the ground, his lips moving but no sound coming out.

That night, he felt more secure, knowing that he had protected himself from any malevolent spirits. Anything that visited him tonight could do him no harm, of that he was certain. He went to bed early, exhausted form the total lack of sleep the night before.

Once more, trying to put his mind into a peaceful place, he allowed it to drift to another time as his hands caressed his own body.

They were in the woods once more, the autumn breeze catching the fallen leaves and swirling them in a tornado of reds and yellows. They walked the path, hand in hand, not speaking a word yet completely wrapped in each other's presence.

Ann stopped suddenly, bending over and staring intently at the ground. When Ron joined her, getting down on hands and knees to see what she was looking at, she scooped a handful of leaves into his face, and, laughing, dashed away.

He arose quickly, giving pursuit, gaining ever so slowly on her. He caught up with her amidst the maples, tackling her from behind, both of them crashing to the ground with a shout. They lay there for several minutes, laughing and out of breath.

He stood first and, before she could react, he pulled the belt from her jeans, looping it quickly around both of her wrists. He pulled it tight, then, dragging her along with him, he pulled the free end over a branch, tying the thin leather in a rapid but intricate knot. Ann, still laughing, was held in place, her arms high overhead.

He reached then for the bottom of her sweatshirt and, tugging it free of her jeans, he pulled it up over her head, flipping it over the branch that held her prisoner. He stood back, pausing for a moment to admire his handiwork.

Ann was held quite securely, her bare breasts pulled taught due to her position. Ron approached her and, taking her head in his hands, he kissed her deeply, his tongue forcing its way between her closed lips. They had played the game before, and she knew that it was in her best interests to make things at least a bit difficult for him.

He stepped behind her now, squeezing her breasts roughly as his teeth closed on the sensitive flesh of her neck. Ann moaned softly, forgetting for a moment her role. His hands dropped from her breasts to the clasp of her jeans.

Opening her pants, he slid them down as far as he could; she held her legs apart to prevent their complete removal. His hand slid down her belly, further down, inside her panties, until his fingers felt the soft hair of her pubis. He curled his fingers through the hair, reaching ever lower, and she suddenly clasped her thighs tightly together in an effort to prevent further intrusion. It was what he had been waiting for, and he quickly grabbed her jeans and pulled them to her ankles, leaving her clad only in panties.

She struggled wildly now, thrashing around as best she could, but the branch she was tied to was strong, and her legs were now trapped in shackles of denim. He stepped back and smiled as he watched her struggle, watched her nearly nude form writhe helplessly.

He moved more closely to her again, and, grabbing her panties, he tore them from her body, the material ripping easily, leaving her exposed. He was behind her again quickly, one hand stroking her breasts, his fingers finding her nipples and pulling at them, making them hard. His other hand dipped down across her belly, down to where her thighs were clamped tightly together. She would not make this easy.

Smiling, he moved to her side, and ran his hand across her buttocks slowly, lovingly. His facial expression never changing, his hand left her and returned quickly, forcefully, the sound of the slap across her ass carrying far into the woods. Knowing now what she was in for, she twisted and turned, trying to escape the spanking, but he followed her every move, every slap of his hand landing firmly across her sensitive cheeks.

He stopped, allowing her to catch her breath while he admired his handiwork. Her ass was a bright, angry red, and when he let his hand linger there, it felt hot to the touch. His fingers slipped between her cheeks, sliding slowly downwards, until he reached the lips of her sex.

She was very wet, the desired result of the spanking had been achieved. His fingers moved between her labia, sliding across the slippery surface, twirling gently in the confined space between her still tightly clasped thighs.

And suddenly, he knew once more that he was not alone. Whatever it was, it had returned. He held his breath, waiting. There was no sound, save that of his own heart beat.

He felt the touch on his forehead, barely perceptible at first as it stroked his face, but then gaining slightly in strength. It swirled around his ears, caressed his eyelashes, and stroked his hair. When it lingered at his lips, he had the perception just for a moment that it was another pair of lips that pressed ever so lightly upon him.

The sensation began to move down his body, the touch just firm enough to avoid tickling him. He felt it at his chest, feeling as though it was combing through his chest hair, then swirling around his nipples, making them stiffen from the sensation.

As it continued down across his belly, he realized that he was still quite aroused, partially from his earlier fantasizing, partially from this new unseen sensual experience. He felt himself throb when it touched his cock, the lightest of touches on that most sensitive skin making him moan with pleasure.

It lingered there, and Ron felt the slightest increase in pressure, a squeeze that sent shivers up his spine. It rippled now, up and down the length of him, and he felt himself reaching the edge of oblivion.

Suddenly the sensation stopped, and he cried out in frustration as he sensed he was alone once more. It was not a good stopping point for him, not at all. With a few quick strokes, he brought himself the release that the unseen entity had left him just short of.

Each night it continued; each night the sensations grew in intensity; each night he was left on the edge, forced to bring himself to orgasm. The day of Halloween arrived.

Tonight would be the night, of that Ron was sure. It was the night that the spirits walked, the night when the doorway between the worlds swung open the widest. Tonight his ethereal lover would be with him as completely as possible.

Meg came over early in the afternoon, and the two of them carved jack-o-lanterns while they awaited the coming of night. It was the busiest of nights for a witch, and Ron knew that he was unlikely to be getting any sleep whatsoever.

"So tonight's the big night, Ron," Meg said, grinning at him. "Tonight you're going to fuck a ghost."

"I think so," he replied. "And judging from what my 'ghost' has been doing for me the rest of the week, I think it's going to be pretty damn good."

"You know, there's times when I wish I had a ghost lover of my own. Somebody to come and keep me warm on long winter nights. But I suppose that 'warmth' is not too likely when you're dealing with something that's no longer flesh and blood."

"You know, you're right. But for whatever reason, I haven't missed the warmth so far; everything else has been so...intense."

"You'll tell me everything, I hope?"

"Well...as much as I feel you need to know."

"You're a tease, you know that?"

After giving out candy for a couple of hours, the two of them had shut off the front light and proceeded out to meet the rest of the coven. The ritual ran late, and Ron returned home alone well after midnight. Undressing, he climbed into bed, not feeling the least bit tired, but full of anticipation.

There was no time to fantasize, no time even to clear his mind. No sooner had he snuffed out the light than she was there with him.

And, for the first time, he was positive that it was a female who shared his bed. As the now familiar fingers began to caress his face, he reached up, and felt hands and arms, the skin silky soft but cool to the touch.

Judging carefully in the darkened room, he reached higher, touching a face, feeling long hair spilling out over him. He let his fingers play across her face for a few minutes, gently touching the soft skin, then pulled her face close to his.

The kiss was indescribable, like nothing he had ever felt before. Her lips and tongue, moist but cool, seemed to melt into his own, merging with him as they swirled in and out. He felt passion like nothing he had ever experienced before.

Ron sensed motion above him, and then felt the head of his cock being teased. His mouth still swallowed by the kiss, he suddenly felt himself engulfed down below as well, the same feeling of melting into and becoming one with the entity that shared his bed. Once again, the sensation was cool, but very slippery, and he felt himself growing more and more aroused by it.

His hands began to wander, and he found her breasts, grasping and massaging them firmly. Now his hands were lost, they too melted into the softness within them. He did not know what was happening, and did not care, the incredible feeling was that of merging with another, so much more powerful than it had ever been with any other lover, they of flesh and blood.

Her body pressed down now, and he felt all of her at once, his entire being lost in the merging. He screamed in orgasmic delight as the pleasure cascaded through him, an orgasm not concentrated in his cock but in his entire body, his entire soul.

It ended all too quickly, and he lay on the bed, his mind reeling. The entity was no longer hovering above him, apparently no longer even within the room. And yet, he felt it there still, as though it had become a part of him.

Had it been her? Had it been Ann? Had she then died, her body never recovered, and her ghost come to visit him one last time? A part of him wanted it to be so, another part refused the possibility.

He was startled from his thoughts by the sounds of a knock on the bedroom door. Who could be there? Hadn't he locked the front door? Why had he heard no approaching footsteps?

The door was opening, and he could see light coming through the opening. Nervously, he stared at the widening light, light that he now realized was coming from a single candle. A candle that illuminated, with golden flickers of light, the figure holding it. The nude female figure.

He spoke her name. "Meg?"

"Yes Ron, it's me. I...I needed to come to you tonight. Please?"

Seeing the intensity in her eyes, the candle flickering across the smooth curves of her body, he motioned her towards him. Soundlessly she placed the candle on the nightstand next to the bed and slid under the covers with him, the heat of her body exquisite against his own.

Ron had never thought about Meg this way, had never imagined being intimate with her. But tonight, there was no need for imagination, their hands first caressing one another, then more urgent, more demanding. He looked into her eyes and was lost, their mouths coming together, their tongues dancing madly tasting one another for the first time.

Breaking the embrace, Ron slid down, biting gently at the nape of her neck, then down to her breasts. He toyed with her nipples, licking wildly at one, then the other, seemingly trying to decide on a favorite. His hands cupped both of them, soft mounds of silken flesh to be squeezed and stroked.

He continued downward, his tongue stabbing briefly at her navel, bringing forth a small giggle. Leaving a trail of hot wet kisses across her belly, he found the lips of her pubis, his tongue lapping at the moisture that came from within.

He teased her, taking slow, long strokes with his tongue from the base of her lips to her clitoris, then flicking wildly, making her thrash upon the bed. She grabbed at his head, pulling him deeper into her for a moment, then up and out. He felt her strength, knew that she would drag his body across the top of her if need be, and decided to help.