The Devil, the Witch, and the Walking Dead
Chapter 1: Candy from Strangers
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Candy from Strangers - Lonely on Halloween, Linda's night is upended by three supernatural strangers. A magical candy awakens her body, unlocking a desperate, sexual lust. The Devil, the Witch, and the Walking Dead have a pact to offer, promising to claim her, possess her, and use her in ways her ex never could. By midnight, she will be reborn... or consumed.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Mystery Paranormal Ghost Demons Group Sex Anal Sex Oral Sex
The suburban street outside Linda’s colonial home thrummed with Halloween chaos. A festive symphony of squealing kids and rustling leaves. Jack-o’-lanterns lined the porches, their jagged grins flickering.
Linda stood at her open door, the candy bowl heavy in her arms. She doled out Snickers and Milky Ways to wave after wave of costumed children who barely glanced at her half-hearted witch costume.
She was the easy kind of witch: a black velvet dress, a floppy hat, and a swipe of red lipstick that matched her mood—bitter and bold. Underneath, practical as ever, she wore plain white cotton panties. Boring, high-waisted things from a multipack. The kind that rode up.
At 28, Linda’s body had settled. Post-breakup, her yoga-toned figure had softened, rounding out. Her hips carried a fuller curve, her belly a comfortable pooch, her B-cups blossoming into generous D’s. Her face, with its full lips and rounded cheeks, had an approachable allure. Tonight, it all just made her feel overlooked.
“Last handful for you, sport,” she said to a pint-sized pirate.
She shut the door against the chill. 9:15 PM. The frenzy was over.
Alone again. The house felt too big.
Sinking onto the couch, Linda kicked off her sensible flats. The wine buzz loosened the knot of frustration she’d carried all evening.
Mark.
God, why tonight? Six months since he’d left, muttering about “space”. Their sex life had been ... reliable. Vanilla. But lately, she’d been fantasizing. Fantasizing about rougher touches, about hands fisting her hair, about being used instead of politely “made love to.”
The memory of their last time, him pinning her against the kitchen counter. It had been a rare spark. Now, alone, the memory stirred a damp heat between her thighs. Her full lips parted. She shifted, the dress rasping against her skin. Her pussy clenched lightly against the boring cotton. Frustrated, aching horniness. It had been weeks since she’d even touched herself.
The doorbell shattered the quiet.
Who at this hour? Through the peephole, three figures. Not kids. Elaborate costumes. A devil with curling horns, a witch in purple robes, and a hulking zombie.
Linda opened the door a crack. “Trick or treat?” the devil said. His voice was rich, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt like a physical touch, like he could see the damp cotton beneath her dress.
“You three are a bit late,” Linda half-laughed, holding out the near-empty bowl.
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