[If you haven't read Spirit of Halloween already, you may want to read or reread it now though this story does stand alone. All the lines in italics are directly out of the earlier story.]
Four years ago
"Mmmmm, oh honey, ummm what a nice way to wake me. I thought you got enough last night, stud." When I forced one eye open, I saw the clock read 5:35 A.M.! He was up an hour earlier than usual, really, really UP! Though kneeling between my ankles with his chilly tongue teasing up my thigh, his big sausage sized snake weighed heavily on my calves. Still somnambulant, I enjoyed the cold fire my sweet sweet husband brought me. Only after I came twice was I finally awake enough to remember his sacrifice last night. He saved me from the ET, shouted his love for me, but clearly loved me to death - his. I looked down at his lovely, wispy face and he grinned at me.
"Sue, I realized what happened when I looked in the mirror. We have several hours left before I have to go. Or we can burn brightly for just a few hours. Your choice my love."
I gasped, horrified at the reality that crushed me as I read the clock thru his loving body...
"Where am ... How ... What's happ ... Why is the air dark grey and cloudy? Who is speaking so muddledly? And why ... why does it feel like the walls are red balloons with people squeezing them and my room smaller and smaller? Why am I naked? HELLO! WHO'S OUT THERE? CAN YOU HEAR ME?" I looked at the dim, fuzzy glow near me. It was just my clock. "My clock?" Squinting, I saw the time was 5:35 A.M.!
I woke screaming, again! Steve or Laura or both hardly woke anymore though they often slept next to me. I've been told that the scream was an impossible combination of fear, shock, horror, terror and mourning in one. Since I lost the love of my life to that monster, every arrant night for the last four years I bolt upright at exactly 7:35 A.M. That was not the moment he died, but the instant he transitioned out of our physical plane to wherever his spirit went. No amount of sedatives has helped me sleep past that minute, but they did help me return to a still fretful sleep.
Once awake, I just lie in bed all day, moribund, waiting for something to change. Life --sigh-- goes on. Well, maybe for everyone else, but not for me. The endless days are all the same.
Each day, I vaguely remembered enjoying the party, hating the lockjaw and sore asshole and pussy and feeling my boots, nightie and necklace dissolve around me in a chilly breeze. Then I struggled painfully to ultimately see Al just as he gets sucked into the coffin; feel his icy loving cock inside me; ... watch him dissolve. THAT'S when I wake up screaming again. This has been my life for FOUR DEAD years. Then the deep, deadly depression worsens.
Every time I ask, Steve or Laura remind me of that malevolent night. No matter how hard I try, I still have no memory of how many cocks I sucked or stuffed in me, how many protein snacks I swallowed or otherwise captured or how I ultimately got home.
All that was eclipsed by the noble sacrifice my Al made for me. I didn't realize how much I loved him until I lost him. Once Al pulled me from the clutches of that evil E.T., I only had a second before the lid snapped shut with Al inside.
Laura tells me that was about 2:00 A.M. and THEN they noticed that nearly every woman at the party was a hovering wraith. She called the police, who dismissed the 'drunken reports' the remaining and naked guests gave until they saw the last of the wraiths sweep across the ceiling and vanish before them. They took statements, admired Laura's stunning face and beautiful bare body, and quickly brought in experts and tools to try to open the casket.
Luckily, someone photographed all sides of the coffin, even the bottom. The photos revealed writing in an unknown format. That, the impossible hardness of the light metal, and all the eyewitness reports prevented wholesale arrests of everyone left alive.
Steve keeps telling me that I had been sedated by EMTs before the bomb squad attacked the alien device with diamond cutters and jaws of life around 4:00 A.M. When I still hysterically fought them off, they left me sitting naked at the far end of the same room. When they finally made their first tiny scratch and broke thru the dense brown coating, the coffin began vibrating. They stopped, but before we could clear the room, the pod vibrated faster and louder until it went ultrasonic.
In seconds, it swelled then imploded in a huge, silent, green flash that left behind tacky green ashes of the pod and its display stand. Yet the carpeting wasn't even singed! In the scramble, Steve grabbed handfuls of ashes and hid them in a bag in one of the pumpkins. His hunch was critical.
Knowing I needed the reassurance of my own home, not a hospital and certainly not their home, Steve and Laura moved in with me for more than a year after losing Al. They said I was nearly catatonic so they fed me, bathed me, carried me to the toilet, arranged for a therapist who would make house calls, secured a physical therapist and learned how to give me daily PT since I barely moved on my own.
Steve reminded me again that he put me in bed with the same blanket I had around me when the EMTs transported me. He hoped that the texture and scent would help me. I was already naked, so he didn't need to undress me, though he confessed he would have enjoyed that. Before laying the blanket on me, he admitted that he checked me briefly. He put a hand on my forehead and a palm on my mons. After a moment of light pressure, he said he swivelled his palm so he could slip a finger into me to check my response. I had none at all.
He and Laura drained a full cup of sperm and cleaned my cerise, inflamed pussy before he pushed a finger inside again and searched for my G-spot. Even when he found it, I didn't respond.
They wrapped me up and slept with me. Yet, I still don't remember their being there when I woke screaming or when they slipped me another pill. When I fought them over swallowing yet another pill, they pushed a prescription vaginal suppository into me.
"Pee, and poo go." With Steve's urging, I eventually staggered with him to the toilet. I don't know if he took joy in spreading open my labia and, to prevent me from overspraying onto the floor, blocking my liquid gold with his bare hand, or if he enjoyed bending me over a hamper to wipe my ass while his wife watched. When Laura would wipe and wash my ass, she then fingered me as Steve fucked my mouth. I barely noticed and didn't care. Each time they repeated this, it was my 'first' time, again.
He confessed to bathing with me and taking liberties with me in the bath. While we bathed, he pushed his mini dick into my mouth and had me swallow his spew. It seems Laura sometimes did the same with her sex flow. They claimed that they believed that keeping me naked all the time and using sex aromas, arousal and tastes were helpful to reclaim missing memories. At least one of them fingered and ate me daily. Steve often used my ass to catch his cream.
After that first month, Steve alternated with Laura most nights to stay with me since they still felt it was unsafe for me to be alone. It was nearly six months before I spoke to them coherently and they thought that I could understand and benefit from therapy. They let all my body hair grow all those months, unchecked and ignored by me.
When I obtusely confided that I hadn't had any sex since their Halloween party, alone or with another, they looked at me askance since either of them hadn't left my side since then. I didn't remember that Steve had fucked all my holes frequently. Laura sitting on my face was fruitless and the variety of vibrators was used only by them. They both selflessly and generously offered to help with sex.
When ready for various therapies, they decided to shave me. Laura shaved my legs and plucked my nipples while Steve shaved my pubes, rolled my cunt open and shaved my labia. Four therapists refused to work in a naked home. The fifth physical therapist they contacted agreed to weekly home visits if they agreed to allow safe sex with him. I didn't care. I watched passively as he fucked my mouth and pussy.
The first day with a sex therapist, still dressed in a dark olive skirt and jacket over a white blouse, Dr. Ann intimately examined me and Laura. Steve asked for unneeded advice and she showed him on Laura how to quickly bring her to a loud, dripping orgasm. She scooped up more of Laura's thick nectar and spread it under her hood and bathed her clit; then gently helped her firm clit leap from its hideaway.
She showed Steve and his turgid dick how to lightly tease and massage a clit before wrapping a mouth around it. She had Steve lift her skirt and practice on her naked cunt. Shortly all three were breathing hard. Laura, grunting and sweating, came on Dr. Ann's fingers and mouth; Ann came on Steve's. Steve licked Laura's dripping quim and Ann's relentless tongue.
It wasn't until after Steve stood, laid his moist cock on her lips and she sucked him into her hungry mouth until he covered her tongue with his fresh seed that she abruptly leapt up and breathlessly left with her skirt stuck above her bare ass. She didn't return the following week.
The next therapist was not shocked when Steve met her at the door naked and lead her to me, lying naked on my bed. This sex therapist quickly understood our open lifestyle. She recommended that Steve or Laura try arousing me gently at least twice a day and proceeded to demonstrate liberally on me. Steve later admitted to her that he didn't wait for that suggestion since I was naked ever since the party and he took frequent and casual advantage of that with no results.
I'm told that she licked my tits and clit, but I barely reacted. She then asked if she could show them some tips on innocent, irresistible, naked Laura. She is shockingly gorgeous and welcomes sex with either gender, but denies being bi.
Steve since confessed that he openly played the therapist, who certainly wasn't fooled, into demonstrating skills he already had on his alluring wife.
She stripped naked and shared her toned and sexy body with Laura. She sat on my bed while Laura stood before her, beautiful legs spread wide, and 'clinically' showed Steve how to best tease Laura's nipples and vulva. She opened Laura's plumped, lusty labia and covered her fingers in the slippery sweetness flowing within. Steve smelled her pickled fingers and shared the aroma and tangy sweet taste of Laura's pussy with my therapist. They bathed my lips with the slippery, fragrant, tasty elixir from Laura's labia.
I slowly began to remember how much Al loved my own special sauce and how he loved licking Laura's. Yet, I have no memory of those daily sexual encounters with all of them licking my pussy clean, just a warm, pleasant feeling of caring friends hugging me all over.
Laura cajoled my employer until he stretched my paid sick leave for an entire year. I think she pimped me out to my boss and allowed him to 'visit' me and my compliant cunt. He still visits weekly and covers my health insurance, but I don't think I'll ever return to work. I'm constantly exhausted and still have no will to live. Denial, Anger, Depression, Bargaining, Acceptance ... no, not there yet...
Laura had the pleasure of shocking the next PT with her stunning nakedness at the front door. He grunted a stunned 'yes' to her questions and followed her sweet, swaying, mesmerizing, naked ass to me. He startled when he saw Steve and me naked, his prick in my ass, and had to be convinced to stay.
Steve explained my situation and that a sex therapist wanted someone to stimulate me daily. Steve asked him to show them any special tips that might help. Ron, sensing no need to be discreet, stuffed his hand down his pants and shifted his stiff dick.
He demonstrated several arm, neck and leg movements he wanted me to do daily. Stressing leg range of motion, he slid my foot nearly to my bare ass, but still on the bed. I didn't care that this stranger was flexing my pussy and staring into it. After pushing my knee back to my exposed tits, he put my foot on the bed again and pushed my knee to the side several times.
His eyes were locked on my flaccid pussy and he licked his lips each time my lips gaped open. Holding my leg open, he slid up my thigh with deep pressure until his fingers touched my pussy. He repeated this with my other leg while I barely watched him. Noting my lips were still flaccid, he confirmed that I needed special sex exercises.
Laura stood next to my head and lifted my hand to her vulva. She folded two fingers into her beautiful, wet and swelling snatch, explained that she was checking for reactions to his stimulation. Staring at Laura squatting on my fingers, her turgid clit popping out and back under her fleshy hood, he gulped. She told him to do his best to arouse me and nothing was off limits.
Ron twisted two fingers into my dry pussy. He licked his fingers and tried again before shifting his dick against his belly, bent and licked my pussy. Still, no reaction. Applying Aloe gel to his fingers, he pushed one into my ass and two into my box. Gelled fingers pried my tiny, pale clit loose and he sucked it too. He kneeled and snaked his fingers to my G-spot from my pussy and my ass. I pulled away a bit. Finally, SOME reaction.
Laura pointed to his tented white slacks and offered to release and relieve the strain on his obviously distressed cock. He didn't say NO, but was surprised when she asked Steve to release the shaft for her. He gave her a sour smile and quickly had the white slacks open and unzipped. Ron kept his hands inside me, but allowed Steve to haul him to his feet and push the slacks to his ankles.
After pushing up Ron's white T, we saw the tip of his cock trying to escape the waistband of his jockeys. Steve knew how much kinky Laura enjoyed watching him handle and prepare a new cock for her. Laura drooled over his six pack and exposed cock head, so Steve wrapped a hand around Ron's stiff dick and pried the briefs over it and his large balls. He held onto the rigid cock and he pushed the briefs to his feet.
He pulled Ron's remaining foreskin back and squeezed the rigid shaft hard. As he offered the new stiffness to his wife, Ron groaned loudly. Laura spread his Cowper's across his bishop and licked it clean before swallowing most of the stiff shaft. Pulling him by his balls made him leave my holes. She popped his rigid cock out of her mouth and next to my face to offer it to me; even wiped it across my lips. I didn't take it or pull away.
He asked if they knew my favorite position, then helped get me on my knees, face on the bed. He commented that my pussy was especially pretty. They agreed and said they hadn't seen it this flushed in many months. Steve stuffed his short stick into my mouth and the entry to my flaccid esophagus. He watched his beautiful wife sucking off a stranger and quickly filled my mouth with his slime. I let it drain, untasted, out of my limp mouth.
Ron pulled off the rest of his clothes and said he needed to explore my depths, pussy first. He angled himself so his iron cock would slide over my G and did so many, many times. He also kneaded my clit with barely a reaction. When he pinched my nipple so hard it nearly burst yet still didn't get me hot, he kept harshly fucking me while he 'thought' about what he could do next. After he wet a finger and easily pushed it into my anus, he asked if I had anal or DP often. When Steve admitted he'd been in my ass many times with Al in my pussy, Ron decided to try DP.
He pulled out and slid under me, placing my tits near his mouth. Steve got between my feet and pushed his greased cock into my ass. Then he signaled Ron to stuff his rod into my pussy and chew my nipples. I wondered if they ever thought how Al would feel about all this sex they were inflicting on me.
Laura fingered herself as she watched them fuck my holes. I remember feeling nothing more than a pleasant itch relief. Both men added some gel and fucked me harder until they both unloaded in me. Laura put a cup under my pussy and sucked my ass clean before licking Steve's dick. She wanted to slurp Ron's ooze too, but didn't know if he were disease free, so she reluctantly resisted. Yet they let him fuck and cum inside me?!?
We repeated that therapy weekly with both therapists for over a year. My suicidal depression began to glacially dissolve. After four years, I'm feeling some arousal, but have yet to climax.
Laura tried to inspire and remind me every October what I had told her and she had witnessed. Every Nov. 1st at 2:00 a.m. a green mist formed around me. For the next nine minutes only, the mist seemed to willfully take humanoid shape. It was only last year that the face was clear enough to resemble Al. She said that it/he was mouthing something. Steve was ready with a camcorder and was able to replay the image until he was able to read two words - 'ASH' and 'MUD'. Since the mist was drawn to me, he decided to try to capture it and maybe anchor Al's spirit back onto this plane. With no harm in trying, he had to work out the clues.
Steve had a bag stuffed with the green ashes from the ship AND Al. His best guess for 'MUD' was the ship's exact landing spot on a lake shore that only he and Al knew. He mixed nearly half the ship ash with the unique mud then let it completely dry out to dust. He had Halloween plans for that half and wouldn't tell me what he contrived for the rest of the mix.
Halloween came and, unknown to me, Laura was hosting her first Halloween party in four years. She tried to match that party disaster from four years ago, including a cardboard clone of the ET ship in the exact spot the real ship had been. Though my caring friends had been helping me walk to fight off atrophy, I still needed to lean on them too much to walk even short distances on my own.
About midnight, Steve produced a four-foot long Godiva wig and similar gossamer, white, calf length night shirt - the last clothing I had worn. He dressed me in just those bits, no boots or pearls, and wheeled me to his car. Though I wondered where he was taking me, I was a little happy just to get out of my house.
As we pulled into his crowded driveway, it dawned on me that I was dressed as I was that ugly night. The glut of cars nearby and the loud music said we were at a party. My heart raced in anxiety despite my apathy then slowed to a barely living pace. I tried to resist when Steve moved me into my wheelchair, but I really didn't care where we were going.
When a breeze fluttered the near sheer gown against me, I clearly saw my nipples and most of my tiny tits as well as the shadow of my pussy. I felt more naked this way than when totally nude. I shrugged to myself.
Laura, in her grass skirt and three leis, came to greet us. Though superficially cheerful, she was also deeply concerned. When we approached the painted, cardboard coffin, my heart raced again. Though I could see it was just paper, I also felt panic. Steve wheeled me past it and thumped it to prove it was a fake.
He brought me to the snack table against the wall where I saw people eating out of a cat litter box! This was new. They were scooping turds out and eating them as well as the damp looking litter itself. I flinched and looked at Laura. She was laughing! THEN she explained what it really was. On a slip of paper under the litter were her paraphrased notes to make the snack: use CLEAN litter box and scooper, fill with 6 cups lightly ground walnuts, add 2 cups cocoa, mix well, add several chocolate candy bars ($100,000) torn and rolled in hand - drop onto 'litter', serve!