I had always loved Halloween as a kid. Every year I had a new costume and I proudly went from house to house, trick-or-treating. For many years I had had a group of other kids with me, but by eighth grade all of my friends had given up the practice. I knew that this would be my last, too: I had received disapproving looks in the past, but this was the first year that one of the neighbors actually said something about it. Mrs. Osorio looked me up and down, ignoring my Cat in the Hat costume, and said, “Terry, don’t you think you’re getting too old for this?”

It wasn’t about the candy. It was about the costumes, and the celebration: being out in public, dressed up. Our neighborhood was pretty tight-knit, so to me, Halloween was a giant outdoor party.

Still, I knew this would probably be my last. Things were winding down and I was considering going home when I heard a meowing - or a human pretending to meow - from between two houses. In the darkness I could barely make out a girl dressed as a black cat, perched on the edge of a low retaining wall. When our eyes met she meowed again.

I stood there speechless for a moment. The cat girl crawled on her hands and knees a short distance deeper into the alley; then she stopped, looked back, and wiggled her butt at me. As soon as I started to move toward her, she raced off into the woods behind the houses.

I found her, once again sitting like a cat, on a large tree stump in the woods. She looked to be about my age: she was definitely feminine, but still had much of the slenderness that the late-blooming girls in my grade had. I thought she was beautiful. She had black hair held back by a cat-ears headband. She was wearing black tights, a black long-sleeve T-shirt, and some sort of paw-like gloves. Her face was covered with makeup for whiskers and a cat’s nose. I didn’t recognize her, but between the makeup, costume, and poor light, I couldn’t be sure that I didn’t know her.

As I approached her, I began to speak: “Hi, I’m Terry.” Immediately, the cat-girl hissed and swiped at my lips with her paw. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly shocked me.

I tried again: “I’m sorry, I...” Again she pawed at my face. Her message was clear: no talking.

Before I could figure out what to do, she got on her hands and knees on top of the tree stump and wiggled her butt at me again. She looked back at me and meowed again. I’m no cat expert, but I know there’s a difference between a meow of greeting and a meow of request. This was the latter. This was a cat who wanted something.

I did the only thing I could think to do: I stepped closer and put my hands on the cat-girl’s butt. It was hard - muscly - but curvy and smooth. I had never touched a girl in a sexy way before. The closest I had ever come was accidental boob touches in Tae Kwon Do class, but that didn’t really count.

The cat girl purred and wiggled as I caressed and squeezed her butt. I could feel the seams of her underwear through the tights. I got a bit more adventurous and ran my hands up and down her inner thighs, and her purring grew louder.

She pushed her butt back into me. There was no mistaking that she had found my erection as she ground her body against it. Again she meowed in a questioning, longing way. Either this girl was the world’s cruelest tease, or she wanted me to fuck her. I tried to think about all the things you’re supposed to consider before having sex for the first time: birth control, regrets, the risk of being caught. But nothing would stick in my mind. Getting naked was the only option.

I pulled the cat-girl’s tights down to her mid-thighs, and then her black panties. They felt nice - I wondered what material they were made from. I ran my hands over her now-exposed skin, and I couldn’t believe how soft and warm it was. I reached between her legs and stroked her smooth vulva to discover that she was sopping wet.

She meowed again, hungrily. I dropped my pants and boxers to my knees and took my cock in hand. I moved in close and rubbed it against her lips, coating it with warm slippery girl juice. I didn’t really know female anatomy very well, and there wasn’t much light, so it took a couple stabs before I was lined up right to enter her properly. She gasped as I pushed all the way in and the smooth warmth of her body surrounded my cock.

“Oh god,” I said, but the cat-girl didn’t bother to correct me. Her meows and purrs were gone, as I grabbed her hips and started thrusting into her. Instead she was emitting the moans and gasps of a very human woman enjoying sex, if Internet porn has taught me correctly. I held off for as long as I could, but I quickly passed the point of no return and started orgasming, shooting jet after jet of come into her pussy, bucking my hips until the very last spasm was done and I began to go soft.

Once she could tell I was done, the cat-girl separated from me and pulled her panties and tights back up. She stood facing me, looking into my eyes for a moment. I was about to speak but she held up her paw threateningly, so I kept silent. After a moment, she licked my lips three times, and then ran off into the woods - on two legs this time.

When I took a shower that night, my dick had a thin coating of what seemed to be watered-down blood. I guessed that it had been her first time too.

In the weeks that followed I quickly learned not to try to tell the story. Absolutely nobody believed me, and the teasing I got when I tried was insufferable.

Every girl I knew, and every girl I met, I tried to match to the cat girl. There were a few that could have been her, maybe, but none of them acknowledged any secret relationship with me.

Savage

By the time Halloween rolled around next year, I had half convinced myself that my strange encounter had never happened. I couldn’t trick-or-treat myself any more, but I was able to join my friend Tim in escorting his brother and sister. Tim didn’t dress up, but I was costumed after a camper in a popular TV show at the time: backpack full of camping gear, water bottle, flashlight, boots, and the works.

I was approached by a stranger - a mom with two kids in tow. “Your camp site is that way,” she said, pointing to the woods behind the houses - the same woods in which I had lost my virginity the year before.

“Huh?” I said, forgetting my costume for a moment.

The woman shrugged. “Some girl asked me to tell you that.” She turned her attention back to her children.

I walked into the woods, keeping my eyes peeled for a girl in a black cat suit. I figured she would be easier to find: the moon was nearly full, so there was plenty of light.

Out of nowhere I felt something push the back of my knee and I fell to the ground, landing on my butt and the backpack. Clawed hands swiped my neck and cheek before I knew what was happening, and then a wolf-girl was straddling my legs, snarling, inches from my face.

Her hair was brown this time, matching the tufts of fur on her cheeks, neck, arms, and feet. Her whiskers weren’t painted on this time - they were real bristles attached to her face somehow. Her T-shirt and shorts were ripped; I could see a white bra and white panties under them.

I knew better than to try to talk this time. With swiping motions of her claws, the wolf-girl released my backpack harness, and moved it out from under me so that I was lying on my back on the ground. She bit my neck and then unbuttoned my shirt and clawed at my chest. She was doing it pretty hard - it hurt when she raked my nipple, although I don’t think she meant it to.

She unfastened my shorts and pulled them down, and then she started sniffing at my groin. Her nuzzling caused my dick to stand up through the fly of my boxers. She moved forward again, sitting on me with my dick trapped between our bodies. And then she started grinding.

I was afraid to do anything, expecting a claw of reprimand if I tried anything. She smiled at me while she reached behind her and started unfastening her bra. After a few magic arm and shoulder movements, she was free of it, while still wearing her tattered shirt. My erection was twitching and straining, trying to break free while she continued to grind her hips into it.

The wolf-girl took my hands and guided them under her shirt to her awaiting breasts. They were delightfully squishy but firm, and her skin was so soft. Her nipples were stiff, like little tiny springs made out of flesh. She threw her head back and howled as my finger tips explored her chest.