Don't Fear the Reaper

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A short little tale about a mistaken address, and mistaken identity

This is an entry in the Literotica 2010 Halloween contest.

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It's an easy enough mistake to make.

The builder's should have known better. The Davis's, my neighbors two doors down, live at 1854 Beech Ct. Beech Drive runs perpendicular to Beech Court and it has an 1854 as well. No big deal right? Occasional mail dropped off at the wrong house. Not really a problem, the houses are almost behind each other. In north Dallas, a lot of the communities have alleys behind the houses to get to the garages, and the driveways to the two houses are only about 100 ft apart, diagonally, where the alleys 'T'.

Not normally an issue. Except for this year. One night in particular.

Todd and Jeanie Davis were having their typical Halloween blowout and the party was hopping early. I had found a pretty cool costume this year, at one of the Halloween Superstores that pop up around this time of year.

It was a "Grim Reaper" costume, nearly 7 feet tall. You wore the hood like a hat and peered out of dark mesh near the throat area. Instant hit, towering above the crowd, never saying a word, just pointing and moaning and waving around my big-ass plastic reaper. It made drinking difficult, but I solved that by pulling an arm into the outfit and drinking my beer from a straw. Shades of high-school.

The women were dressed to kill, in all sorts of outfits from cheerleaders to nurses, pirate wenches to sexy vampires. I figured once the novelty wore off, I'd break character and see who I could chat up. Mostly couples, there were still quite a few singles around, including a gorgeous devil in a barely-there red outfit that I felt deserved a bit of my undivided attention. As one of the very few single guys in the area, I found I was usually able to capture the attention of at least a few of the women at these affairs.

My costume was hot, and I was standing out on the front porch cooling off and quaffing a cold one, debating whether it was time to make myself known, when I saw my mirror image stroll up the path. Crap. There goes the novelty. He stopped to talk to the group standing on the path less than 10 feet away and I heard him ask if Micheline was there.

That got my attention.

Jeanie Davis and Sarah Cleary were having a bit of a feud. Something to do with their daughters and the middle-school cheerleading squad. Wouldn't matter much, except Sarah was having a Halloween party the same night, over at 1854 Beech Drive. I knew because I'd been invited to both parties; I hadn't been dragged into the argument yet. They ran in the same crowds, and there'd been a lot of one-upmanship in having the best party and bigger attendance. It seemed like everyone in the area was going to one party or the other. I'm sure some were going to both.

There was only one Micheline I knew of, and she was one of Sarah's best friends. She was single, recently divorced, and I instantly knew that her date for the evening had made the mistake so many others had made.

I saw a chance for a little Halloween mischief, and I walked around the house and down the alley, to tease Micheline. I didn't know her well, just recognized her from the same groups and a few parties, but she was a genuine suburban Dallas MILF, and worth getting to know a little better. Why her husband left her was a mystery to me.

She wasn't hard to find. There was a small crowd standing around in the garage, conveniently close to the beer fridge. A popular hangout for the smokers, there were a couple of guys smoking cigars and a handful of ladies dressed in their Halloween sexiest. Standing beside a Pipi Longstockings dead ringer, I saw Micheline dressed as the world's sexiest zombie. She was wearing a torn halter top, blood spattered miniskirt and stockings with tears and holes in them. Her makeup was pretty wild, giving her a pale look, with dark eyes, a large gash down one cheek, and the requisite bloody mouth with dark red lips. She had fake blood and a large open wound down her side. A stringy red wig completed the outfit. Very realistic. Very, very sexy.

As I walked up the driveway, she spotted me and jogged down to meet me. A little stumble along the way, and some spilled strawberry margarita led me to believe she wasn't quite 100% sober. Maybe not 10%.

"Ron! It's about time you got here. I was afraid you got lost." She reached out and gave me a hug.

I just gave a low growl, and wrapped my arms in their long billowing sleeves around her, enveloping her in black. I pulled her close to feel her body against mine.

She giggled, "Someone's feeling frisky, I see," she said softly.

I just gave a deep rumble and slid my arms further down to cup her ass in my hands, with the onlookers unaware of my actions.

"Mmmm, I guess late is better than never. But you have some catching up to do."

Micheline turned out to be a little wilder than I thought, and she had her hands reaching between my legs, rubbing me as I grew hard for her. "I guess you like my costume then. I told you to be prepared."

She pulled out of my arms and headed back to the garage, tugging me by the hand. She got a beer out of the fridge and passed it to me, which I drew back into my costume, then introduced me around. I broke out my straw and sampled the ale. Shiner. Good choice.

I knew I should probably let her know about the costume and address mix-up, but I was enjoying the attention. I also thought I better make the explanation in private so I wouldn't embarrass her too much.

During the introductions, I saw a cute vampiress, all the rage this year, and I pointed at her, shaking my head. Another low growl got a laugh out of her, and she hid behind one of the guys, dressed as a big baby. Not the greatest protector, I thought. The topic of conversation was all about who had attended which party, and who was going to be on who's shitlist. It sounded like the decision about which party to attend was a bigger deal than I'd thought. Should have known. I listened and finished my beer, just nodding and groaning when it seemed appropriate.

While the others chatted, Micheline dragged me over to the backyard, where more of the party was going on, for more introductions. The Cleary's had a big yard, unlike most of the homes in the area. There was a crowd on the porch, including several guys surrounding a playboy bunny and a Hooter's girl, but the pool was empty, and the gazebo at the far end of the yard looked vacant as well.

Micheline tugged me toward the porch, but I pulled back heading toward the gazebo, where I could finally explain the mistake. Maybe after one more nice hug.

She giggled again for me, and skipped along beside me, heading toward the back of the yard. It was dark back there, and we had to walk through a small fake cemetery on the way to the gazebo, covered in artificial spiderwebs we couldn't even see until we were almost on top of it.

We stepped up into the octagonal enclosure, and she turned and pressed her body against me, wiggling with bad intentions. "I wanted to thank you for last weekend. I had a great time." Her hands were back to my crotch, demonstrating just how thankful she was. Of course, in such a situation, any red-blooded male would do what I did. I groaned sexily, and ran my hands over her body.

She peeked around me, looking at the distant crowd. "I don't think they can see anything back here, it's so dark." With that, she was lifting the bottom of my robe and climbing under it, on her knees. I put my scythe to the side, and pulled my arms into the robe, caressing her hair. She pulled my loose sweatpants down to my ankles and I felt the warmth of her mouth engulf me.

Ok. Things were getting complicated. It was going to be hard to explain this "little" mistake. But I didn't have the willpower or desire to stop her at that moment. Not by a long-shot.

She was good. Excellent. Marvelous. She sucked me deeply and aggressively, making love to my cock with her hot little mouth. I kept an eye open for anyone headed our way, but our luck was holding. The back of the yard was ours, and ours alone.

My little love zombie was getting noisy, sucking me with abandon. I let her know I enjoyed it with soft caresses, an occasional encouragement on the back of her head, and contented moans.

She pulled away, and I felt her moving around, then she was peeking out of my robes back at the house. "All clear?"

"MmmHmmm," I groaned. She was turned away from me, and I reached down and held her hips, pushing against her. I shuffled forward a step so she could lean down and brace herself on one of the padded benches. I watched her pull the robes over her head, leaving her in darkness, but she stayed facing away from he, her soft ass pressing against my raging hard-on. She reached back and tugged her skirt up over her butt. I felt the material shift in my hands, and then I was grasping the soft skin of her round, sexy butt. I could feel a very small pair of panties, almost a thong. I rolled those down her ass to her thighs, and felt between her legs. She was smooth and wet.

"God, Ron, I can't believe I'm letting you do this. I didn't know you were so wild," she murmured through the thick cloth.

I took my cock in hand, and guided it between her legs, rubbing up and down her moist slit, pushing and probing until I felt the head enter her. A few nudges later, I was sliding inside, and with a firm push I filled her tightness.

"Damn, Ron, you feel big tonight. I guess you do like this outfit. Or do you like doing it in public?"

All I did was groan as I grabbed her hips and gave it to her.

Looking over, I could see that a small group had moved a bit closer, but they were still a good ways away, and we remained in complete darkness.

I was enjoying the feeling of being in this pretty little neighbor of mine, without her ever knowing it. My first tentative pokes turned into long, deep, rhythmic strokes. Deeper and harder I pounded her, feeling her body shifting on the bench until I saw her hands reach out from under my robes and grasp the railing of the gazebo. I could feel the difference as she pushed back against me, allowing me to fuck her even harder and faster.

"God, it's good. So good," she moaned loudly, the cloth unable to totally stifle her.

It was good. Incredibly good. The mystery of it. The "zipless fuck" aspect. The audience a little closer now but still unaware. The feeling of screwing a new, different, hot pussy for the first time. I slowed down, not wanting it to end, trying to hold back that feeling of impending release.

We shuffled sideways, and she lifted one knee onto the bench, opening herself even wider to me. I hunched over her, squeezing her tits while I slowly screwed her. I pulled her top over her tits, exposing the flesh to my grasp, and mauled her tits, pinching her erect nipples, while my rod continued it's mission of deep penetration.

I could feel the MILF trembling in my hands, and I brought one down between her legs, reaching for her love button, rubbing it violently while I picked up the pace, pounding her like the piece of undead flesh she was dressed as. Or mostly undressed as, in this case.

Her gasps alerted me to her approaching release, and I grabbed her hip with one hand while my fingers continued their vibrating over her clit.

She started moaning loudly, while I sawed in and out of her tight slit, knowing I couldn't last much longer. I had hoped to help her get off, but it was too late. It felt too good. I squeezed down on her clit and came hard, exploding deep inside her.

It must have been enough to push her over the top. She cried out, loudly enough to turn a few distant heads our way, and I plunged in and out, draining any last remnants from my happy trouser buddy, while I felt her spasm along the length of my rod.

Regretfully, I pulled out of her, reaching down and pulling my pants back up. Regretful that I had to pull out, not about what I'd done. There'd be time enough to regret that later, if I so desired.

Adjusting my pants had the added benefit of pulling my robes off of her, and I was able to get an eyeful of her sweet full tits, while she pulled up her panties and straightened her skirt, before adjusting her top.

The nearest partiers were headed our way. I guessed our noises had attracted a little attention. She turned and held her face up for a kiss. I kissed her through the material.

"I've got to use the bathroom. We made a mess. I'll find you." She turned and walked awkwardly toward the house. I grabbed my instrument of death (the plastic scythe - my you have a dirty mind!) while I followed a few steps behind.

At the gate, I made a detour for the driveway, running into Pippi Longstockings. "Did you find her yet?" she asked.

"MmmmHmmm," I growled, and she giggled.

I turned toward the alley and quickly hustled over to my house, where I ran in and changed into my Warlock costume from the year before. I'm sure I'd catch some ribbing for that, but better a little teasing, then let the whole world know who the second reaper was, if it should come to that. A few minutes later I was headed back to the party at Sarah's place.

I was dying to see how Micheline and her date were getting along. If things didn't work out for them, I figured she was worth getting to know better. A whole lot better.

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Hope you enjoyed this little tale of mistaken identity. If you liked it, please vote!