Chapter 1

The howling wind outside the small one-level house rattled the windows, but Tiffany and Blake Connor were oblivious to the autumn chill carried on the wind. Their kitchen was cozy warm. Tiffany’s fingers and toes were always susceptible to the cold, so when Blake had seen her put the knife down a few times to rub her hands together and blow into them, he turned the thermostat heat up a notch. Anything for his wife of less than two years. The love of his life. His soulmate who he was going to spend eternity with.

Sitting next to each other at the kitchen table, both Tiffany and Blake had large, reddish-orange pumpkins in front of them. The tops were sliced off and sat on an angle, leaning on the stems. A large bowl was filled with the wet, stringy pulp that Tiffany and Blake had scooped out of their respective pumpkins using a large spoon and their hands, hands now slimy from the gooey stuff. Not that it bothered them as they carved faces in the pumpkin shells, other than when the knife slipped.

Blake took a break from his carving. He was further along than Tiffany so he could pause to watch her work. Unlike his quick cuts, his young wife meticulously made each cut so perfect that Michelangelo would have been jealous. Blake knew she’d gloat later as to how much better hers was than his, how scarier it was, but that didn’t upset him. It brought a smile to his face. After Christmas, Halloween was her favorite holiday. He hadn’t her enthusiasm for it, but he went along because she loved it and he loved her.

Tiffany was bent over with her nose almost touching her pumpkin’s hard, bumpy surface, making a cut that needed to be perfect. At least to her. She was making the final cuts on a pointy tooth to go along with the others in the wide-open mouth. A mouth screaming in fear. Blake knew she had an image in her mind that she needed to replicate on the pumpkin.

Blake couldn’t help but gaze at her pale face. In the summer she always wore large hats and a lot of sunblock. She had to. Her blonde hair was almost white, her blue eyes almost translucent, and her complexion ghostly pale. If she didn’t protect her skin from the sun she would burn. With his black hair, dark brown eyes, and dark complexion, Blake was the opposite, and his rich tan from the summer hadn’t completely faded even with autumn upon them.

Tiffany’s blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail that jutted from the back of her head before gravity pulled it down. Even then it reached past the turtleneck of her sweater all the way to her shoulder blades. Blake loved when her long hair was loose, hanging on her back or fanning her pillow. Her one blemish was a few freckles dotting both sides of her pug nose. Not that Blake saw them as a blemish. He thought they were cute. But they were a constant annoyance to her, especially when Blake teased her about them, saying they made her look like a pixie. He only did it because she would always end up giggling.

Tiffany stopped carving when she noticed Blake staring at her. “Are you done already?”

“No, just taking a break.”

“What for?”

“To appreciate beauty.”

Tiffany’s hand with spread fingers flew to cover the front of her pumpkin. “Don’t look yet. It’s not finished.”

“I wasn’t looking at your pumpkin. I was looking at you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Tiffany’s pale skin turned a shade of pink. Something her fair complexion did often. “Oh, shut up! You’re just trying to get out of carving the pumpkin.” She leaned over to see his work and her mouth turned into a lopsided frown. “Is that supposed to be a scary face? It doesn’t even have teeth. Just a long hole for a mouth. Why can’t you be adventurous?”

“I tried to make it look like me. Isn’t that scary?”

“You wouldn’t scare a ten-year-old girl.”

Blake held his hands up, curled his fingers, and scrunched up his face with his teeth showing between tautly spread lips. “Grrrr!”

Tiffany burst out laughing. “Yeah, like that’s gonna scare anyone.”

“Oh yeah! How about this?”

Blake swiped his slimy hand across Tiffany’s cheek. She let out a shriek and covered her now wet cheek with her hand. Her face turned mischievous and she reached for his face, but at the last minute her hand flew to the bowl filled with pulp and scooped a handful out. She smashed it into Blake’s face like she had the cake at their wedding.

Tiffany laughed, but her huge smile evaporated when she saw the expression on Blake’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It just—”

Her words were cut off when Blake’s hand dug into the bowl of gooey pulp. Her eyes got big and round. She jumped off the chair, but Blake was an instant behind her. When his filled hand slammed into the side of her face, his momentum knocked the two to the floor.

Tiffany squirmed out from under Blake and jumped to her feet. She snatched the bowl off the table. In her haste, it collided with her pumpkin. She stood over Blake and turned the bowl over, dumping the contents. Globs of wet, gooey pulp rained down on him. He swatted at the falling stuff, knocking a miniscule amount to the sides. The rest landed on his chest, neck, chin, and mouth.

Blake grabbed Tiffany’s leg. She screamed, and then groaned when he dragged her to the floor. Blake scooped a handful of the pulp off his chest and, squishing it in a fist so that it oozed between his fingers, pulled at Tiffany’s turtleneck collar with his other hand. He shoved his pulp-filled hand down the front of her sweater and opened his fingers.

All the while, Tiffany was screaming and giggling. She grabbed some pulp off Blake’s chest with both hands and smudged it all over his face. And then she thrust her slimy hand underneath his shirt and rubbed it on his belly. She must have seen something in his face when she did that because her breath caught and her hand froze.

Blake got another handful of the gooey pulp and shoved it underneath Tiffany’s sweater. She shrieked at the cold, wet contact. The two rolled on the floor, first one on top and then the other, all the while rubbing their slimy hands underneath the other’s clothes. Blake ended up on top, sitting on Tiffany’s thighs. He shoved both hands underneath her sweater and slid them up her belly, all the way to the bottom of her bra. But his hands didn’t stop. They went inside both bra cups. He rubbed her breasts with his slimy hands. Tiffany’s eyes closed with a soft moan. The will to get the upper hand left her.

But then Tiffany’s eyes popped open and she screeched. Blake had swung a leg off her so that he was kneeling at her side and, without warning, one of his hands had darted down her belly and dived into her sweatpants and panties. With one hand still on her breast underneath her bra, Blake cupped her groin with his other hand and squeezed. Tiffany’s arms flew around his neck, but not to wrestle. She pulled him down and held him tight as she humped his hand and squeezed her thighs together. Tiffany pressed her gooey lips to his and accepted his tongue into her mouth, tasting the earthy sweet flavor of the pumpkin pulp. Once again, they rolled on the floor, but now enflamed in passion. More rocking back and forth than rolling.

Tiffany grabbed Blake’s hair and yanked his head back. She stared into his eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I—”

Tiffany quieted Blake with two fingertips on his lips. “I know, stupid. You don’t have to tell me. Just make love to me.”

Tiffany shuddered when Blake’s hand skimmed her clitoris when exiting her panties. He grabbed the waistband of both her sweatpants and panties and peeled them down her legs and off one sneakered foot. He left the clothing tangled around her other ankle. Neither wanted to waste any more time. Then he shoved her sweater up to her armpits, followed by her bra over her breasts. Now that she was naked from her armpits to her ankles, Blake saw the extent of their playful battle. Her flawless pale skin was coated with the pumpkin pulp.

Blake ripped his shirt, shoes, pants, and underwear off. He was already hard. He saw the urgency in Tiffany’s eyes and knew foreplay wasn’t what she wanted. She was ready. And so was he. He climbed between her legs, which she spread further apart, and placed the tip of his hard dick at the entrance of her pussy. Something he had done often, but not often enough. He could spend his entire life inside her.