My parents had Halloween parties as far back as I can remember. Every year, the party got bigger and wilder and the costumes got flashier and more expensive until it was nearly a carnival atmosphere at our house. When I really started noticing the parties, was when I was becoming sexually aware. I noticed so many women dressed as hookers or in thin, sexy clothes, or their costumes fit them rather provocatively.
My mother, with her fairly larger breasts always seemed to be popping out of her costume. My father always liked to dress as Robin Hood or Don Juan, romantic figures in tights. The two of them were quite the pair and they were admired by all the guests at the party.
When I was nineteen, I didn't attend the start of the Halloween party. Friends of mine were having a party across town and I had gone over there. The party was okay, except my girlfriend and I got in an argument and she left pissed off and I had to walk home.
Our house was at the edge of town on two and a half acres of land that had belonged in my father's family since they farmed a great section of land to the south. My father had sold off the farm land with his brothers when I was kid. The house was huge with a sprawling front yard and a three and a half car garage with an apartment over the top where I had moved to when I graduated high school. The back yard had a small maze of hedges and a tool shed the size of a normal 2 car garage.
I came home about midnight as several guests were leaving. My father had a woman pinned inside the front door, his mouth pressed to her ear. I wasn't sure, but it looked like she was trying to stroke him through his Doctors scrubs. I recognized her as Mrs. Waverly, the wife of the president of the bank. They moved out of the light along the side of the house. I could make out my father's hand pulling up her flapper skirt. I moved on just as he raised her legs up.
The hot tub on the side of the house was jam packed with guests. I saw my mom's friend, Dorothy, making out with a strange woman dressed in a Sarong. Dorothy was kind of the local slut, I had seen her giving head to one of dad's friends the previous year. It seemed that every year after the party, mom and dad would discuss Dorothy's adventures.
No one seemed to notice me as I moved through the yard and around the to back of the house. I didn't see my mother anywhere. She was probably in the basement playing pool or doing dishes in the kitchen. I made my way around the hedges and went up the back steps to the apartment atop the garage. I had grabbed a couple of beers from the ice bucket by the back deck and thought I'd sit up on the ledge of the garage and watch the fun and frolicking.
The ledge faced south and looked over the hedges. The moon was nearly full and cast its light down upon the party. I opened the beer and thought about the argument with my girlfriend. It had been quite stupid and why we got so upset, I couldn't understand. I thought I would call her once I finished the beer and had time to relax.
I heard a noise down below me, a moan, that stirred me from my thoughts about Amy. Peering over the edge of the roof, I saw my mother leaning back against the tool shed, her face pointed toward the sky, mouth open in ecstacy. She was wearing a big, hoop skirt as I think she was supposed to be Scarlet O'Hara or something. Looking down, I could see the soles of small shoes facing toward me from under the dress. I realized that someone was under my mother's dress, pleasing her.
I quickly downed the rest of the beer and quietly made my way down the back steps into the hedges next to the tool shed. I quietly maneuvered myself into a spot about eight feet away from my mother where I could see her breasts heaving up and down with each heavy breath. Suddenly, she clamped her mouth shut as her face tightened. She moaned through clenched teeth, "Oh, oh, oh! Yes. Yes." as she came.
As she leaned heavily back on the shed, trying to catch her breath, the person under her dress crawled out. She was dressed in a hooker's outfit with a short skirt and a red top that came off her shoulders; it was my old high school teacher, Grace Styles. She climbed up to my mother and kissed her full on the mouth.
"Whew." Grace said as she pulled back with both her hands still resting on my mother's breasts. "My face is covered in your juices."
My mother, pulled her closer and licked at her face playfully. Grace cooed and the licking turned into manic kissing and groping. Grace pulled back again trying to catch her breath. "Holy shit, Sylvia."
"Too hot for you?" My mother replied cooly.
"First you rub my clit to orgasm in record time then you push me down under your dress and nearly drown me with your orgasm." Grace laughed. "I need a drink. My date will never understand why my face smells like a pussy."
"Do you have a cigarette?" My mother only smoked when she was drinking.
"Where's Will?" Grace found her purse on the ground and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Aren't you afraid he'll catch us?"
