Moving Day

This is my entry for the Halloween contest. For those bothered by such, it contains a strong element of voyeurism. Have a spooky, scary and above all sexy Halloween!

* * *

"It would appear that the new tenants are moving in," Miranda said, looking out of the tall window at the street and sidewalk three floors below.

"Seedy-looking customer," James remarked from beside her, looking at a young man getting out from behind the wheel of a rental truck, dressed in jeans and t-shirt.

"They all are, these days." Her voice always sounded faint in this upper room.

"And here's a second load," he said. An attractive young woman emerged from a second vehicle and propped open the front door with a box. She was dressed in cut-offs and a tank top which left little to the imagination. Even from the third-floor window, one could see her nipples through the fabric.

She heard James sigh faintly. "This used to be such a proper street - good, decent people, people who knew their manners."

She looked up at him. "And the cherry trees! Do you remember the cherry trees on either side of the road back then? I did so like those, before they were ripped out. How long ago was that?"

"Too long ago," he said softly. "They

were

pretty."

The couple below carried a steady stream of belongings up the sidewalk. James and Miranda could hear laden footsteps in the bottom hallway. On one trip, a large flatscreen television was carried in.

"No doubt we'll have to listen to TSN and raucous music blaring at all hours," he pronounced gloomily.

"Now, James, be charitable. After all, it's not like you never enjoyed sports. And we did meet at a concert."

"Both of us were properly dressed," he said. "And we were married before..."

"Times change," she said, cutting him off. "Everything changes."

"Except you," he smiled, backing away from his sour mood. "You haven't changed since when we were first married."

"Mama always warned me to beware of charmers," she laughed.

"Did she? But your father was nonetheless gracious enough to grant me your hand in marriage," he smiled.

"Oh," she laughed, "Mama could be convinced; Papa was a charmer himself." She paused for a moment. Her head tilted to one shoulder. "What did

your

mother warn you of?" she asked impishly.

He thought for a moment. "Flirtatious young women," he pronounced solemnly.

"Oh! Surely not!"

"She was quite serious about it. But it helped that she knew your mother; she was willing to make allowances."

"She actually called me a flirt?"

"Of course not. Well, not in so many words. She did however make some pointed remarks to my father about... what was it? Oh yes, a tennis costume you wore the first time you and I played doubles with them."

"Oh? I remember that dress. I didn't think it was all that daring -- it, it was well below my knees!"

"Apparently, Mother said, it caused me to spend a lot of time looking at your ankles."

"Really? I thought you were a perfect gentleman."

"I was. And I had been -- looking, I mean. Still do, truth be told."

Miranda smiled delightedly at him, pale eyes beaming. Her silver hair gleamed in the late afternoon light. "You old devil!"

"I throw myself on the mercy of the court, madam."

Down below, the portage of possessions into the old brownstone continued. The late-September afternoon had begun to turn windy and bits of paper and other refuse began blowing about the street. The next time the young woman appeared from below, she was wearing a hoodie. Despite his earlier remarks, James looked a little disappointed.

Eventually, the move seemed to be complete. As the older pair watched, the new couple reappeared hand in hand, kissed at the curb. The girl locked the small car where it was parked while the boy drove away in the van. She waved as he pulled out, returned inside. From below, they could hear water running.

James and Miranda quietly made their way down to the first floor. The young woman, apparently waiting for the apartment bath to fill, was inserting a small piece of paper into a label holder in the building mail box. Not seeing them, she stepped back, smiled and went back into her apartment. The sign read, "Tom and Sasha McKinley."

"See?" she smirked. "Married."

"Yes, dear."

"You and your old-fashioned morality."

"Yes, dear."

"Don't you 'Yes, dear' me, James!" She paused, almost blushed, then whispered ever so softly, "Despite your stick-in-the-mud attitudes, sir, you were a good husband. And..." she hesitated for a moment, "... a very good lover. Momma never told me how much fun 'conjugal relations' could be."

He turned to see her smiling at him. It was a loving smile, one he knew and treasured.

"Legend has it that anyone can play a Stradivarius well, my love."

She dimpled at the complement, gave a short curtsey in his direction.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "Out of idle curiosity, Miranda, what

did

your mother tell you about 'conjugal relations'?"

Her voice was dry, but not entirely lacking in humour. "Mama made known to me that women had a duty to their husbands and that I should be thinking of the privilege of bringing your sons into the world for you."

"Ouch! I hope..."

"It was something I was prepared for, dear; I am not complaining. Society was much about duty then, you will recall." Her loving smile grew, became almost lustrous. "And then you taught me something very different! Poor Mama."

Their love flowed from smile to smile.

The two stood inside the main doors for a while, watching the street. They had turned to go back upstairs again when the door opened and the young man returned. Combing his tousled hair back with his fingers, he whistled as he strode hurriedly down the hall, noticing neither of them. There was a bottle of wine under one arm, a bunch of roses in his hand and a large smile on his face.

He opened the door to his apartment and was about to enter when he froze in the doorway. A sultry voice spoke from within.

"Welcome home, Tommy!"

The boy blinked, stepped inside. James and Miranda, from the stairway, could hear his reply, "So

that's

the Halloween costume you were telling me about? I love it!" The door closed.

James and Miranda looked at each other, eyebrows raised. They'd been in the old building for a very long time and knew its layout well. It was only a minute before the two of them were watching Tom and Sasha inside their apartment from a higher vantage point.

Amidst the clutter of boxes, containers and packing paper, the young couple were locked in a standing embrace. Her hands held their heads in a prolonged kiss, while his swept up and down her slender body. Flowers and wine had been discarded on a nearby stack of books. The only light came from a dozen candles of various sizes and sorts flickering from as many improvised holders.

The girl was dressed in a red and black corset, a tiny red thong and lace-topped black stockings held up by a thin garter belt around her waist. Her arms were encased in black above-the-elbow gloves, she'd let her blonde hair down from its previous ponytail and the tops of brown areolae could be seen peaking over the top of lacy corset cups. Her makeup was perfect; Miranda thought she could smell perfume. The girl's eyes shone with come-hither invitation.

Her partner was stocky and just shorter than she, clean-shaven with dark hair. He was still dressed in jeans and a dark t-shirt. A plain gold ring on his left hand was his only jewellery. His teeth gleamed in the candlelight.

"Going to wear this trick-or-treating, Sash?" he murmured, stroking her hair.

"Silly, this isn't my Halloween costume. It's my

welcoming-my-new-husband-to-our-first-apartment

costume. Do you like it?"

James snorted from his watching place. Miranda glared at him, her eyes glowing in the dim light. "James!" she whispered, "You always said you liked me in my corset!"

He relaxed beside her. "You are of course quite correct, Miranda. She does look most... um... alluring, I must admit." He turned to look down at her. "If you don't mind my saying so, that is."

"Why should I mind, dear? As long as you don't mind me finding

him

handsome." She gasped just slightly when the girl below her grasped the hem of her husband's t-shirt and pulled it up and off him. "Oh, my! Look at those muscles! He must spend a lot of time doing something strenuous."

"So, new husband in new apartment," Sasha smiled below them. "There's beer in the fridge and pizza in the oven." Her smile turned impish. "If you're hungry, that is."

His strong hands slid slowly down over the stayed satin to clasp her firm bottom. "Hungry for what?" he teased.

The girl grinned. Her hands slid down his chest, over prominent abs and then, crossing to her own chest, lifted half-bare breasts invitingly. "Mmm?"

"I

am

hungry!" he growled. "Turn off the stove."

She laughed, her voice bubbling with delight, before pulling away from him and heading for the small kitchen, taking wine and flowers with her. Behind her, Tom began shedding his jeans and boxers. Freed, his manhood lunged out, bouncing as he struggled to remove socks and shoes. It didn't take long.

Miranda looked up at her tall husband beside her. Her eyes were wide. "Almost as handsome as you, James!"

"Almost," he replied dryly.

"But not nearly as well-endowed, dear."

"Who's flattering whom now, my love? In any case, it looks to me that the boy won't disappoint her. After all..."

"I know, I know," she giggled beside him,

'Nine inch will please a lady.'"

Below them, Sasha's eyes lingered on the same thing as she returned to her husband. She pulled out a pale yellow rose from the new bouquet as she walked and, holding it by the stem, ran the petaled head along the underside of his length. He twitched and bounced.

Dropping the rose, her soft fingers cupped his balls, stroked along his shaft, lingered to caress the rim of its head. She lifted her head and he leaned down to kiss her. It was a long, lingering and most tender loving kiss.

"I remember when you used to kiss me like that, James," Miranda breathed. "I still remember our first kiss."

"As do I, dear. It was tremendously exciting. Some things were worth waiting for."

Below them, Tom clutched his wife, pulling her in by the bum before running his hands up and down her back. He fumbled for, found and pushed down her thong. It fell around her ankles, revealing a carefully-trimmed patch of blonde curls. His fingers gently traced her lower lips, bringing a soft moan from her mouth.

"And I remember our wedding night," Miranda said softly. "You were pretty exciting for an innocent young lady."

"The 'innocent young lady' had me pretty excited myself."

"Well, in any case, I don't think Mr. McKinley will be missing anything anytime soon," she smiled. "Look at her!"

Sasha had dropped to her knees in front of her partner. Running her hands up and down his thighs, her head bobbed over his rampant cock. Saliva glistened on his veined shaft as she licked and sucked. One hand rolled his balls while the other twisted and stroked his shaft. Her cheeks were hollow with suction; his eyes were closed, his hands resting gently on her head.

"Sash," Tom groaned, "time to stop. Doctor Pecker can never win against Ms Supertongue."

She pulled off him with a distinct

pop,

leaned back and smiled. Her hands continued to stroke and tease. "Who says I want to stop, Tommy? This is my housewarming present to the man I love." With that, her mouth returned to his cock and she began to move over his length ever more quickly.

The young man's eyes closed tight, his hips started pumping. Then he froze, rigid in his pleasure, his breath ragged. In front of him, his wife swallowed several times, then leaned back, grinning.

"That's the appy, lover," she said, tender eyes sparkling. "Ready for soup, salad, entrée and desert?"

"Such a minx!" Miranda murmured.

"To be fair, my dear, I seem to remember you letting me know on occasion that you would appreciate some affection." James smiled at the memories.

"Oh, I wasn't objecting, sweet man. She clearly has both spirit and talent and I think those are appropriate in today's world."

"Certainly appropriate for him. I do think he enjoyed that." Tom leaned down for a closer look at the still couple below.

"Well, Mr. van Ampt, Mama would be horrified to hear me say it, but I enjoyed

watching

it. So there!"

Tom bent down and picked up his wife under the arms, effortlessly lifting her up so their faces met. Her arms went around his neck and her legs around his waist.

"Where's the bed, Sash?" he asked when their lingering kiss ended.

Her eyes popped wide open. "Ohmygod!" she whispered. "Of all the things for me to forget!"

"You had one job!" the boy joked, looking around the cluttered room. His eyes settled on an armless white leather sofa. Weaving his way through the clutter, he carried her to it. Putting her down momentarily, he hastily shifted two boxes and a suitcase from it, sat down. Sasha flowed into his arms, a happy smile on her face.

Their lips met, her eyes closed as her hands swept over his back, thighs and chest. "I do love you, Tommy!" she whispered.

"And you, babe" he said, his hands easing her firm breasts out of the corset and softly mounding them in his broad palms.

"Love is so important to a woman," Miranda reflected.

"I've often thought," James replied pensively, "that the strength of our love is what has kept you and I together all these years, after everything." His hand swept his white hair back off his forehead. "I'm very happy with you."

They watched in fascination as the young man below them lifted the girl up effortlessly and sat her on the top of the sofa back, leaning her back against the wall. Spreading her legs, he knelt between them and began a series of soft kisses on the inside of each leg, working his way up from her knees.

Sasha gasped a little, caressed his head with her hands.

Moving closer to her, his tongue flicked along and over her swollen labia, twirled over her clit and started over. His wife gasped more strongly and pulled him in tightly to her sex. His head swayed up and down as his lips moved over her. The girl began to moan and cry out words without meaning.

Tom's lips gently sucked on the girl's protruding love-bud. One finger entered her and began massaging her G-spot. Sasha's cries grew.

"Stop!" she finally cried. "I want you in me, Tom! Now!"

Smiling, the boy almost effortlessly lifted her up again, turned and sat down, lowering her to his swollen organ. As she came down, she reached between them, aimed him at her opening. It took her a moment to stretch to accommodate his girth. Slowly moving down the boy's hardness, she was soon fully seated over him. For a moment, the two clung to each other, motionless but breathing hard.

"Oh, God, but you feel good, Tommy!" she murmured.

"Such memories that brings back - that first joining!" Miranda sighed. "It always took me a moment to get used to you, James, but it was always," and here she looked up at her husband,

"always

worth it. You filled me with so much love, James."

"And I was always amazed at how warm you were when I entered you, love. It was always a wonderful moment for me, rest assured."

Below them, Tom remained more or less still while his wife began rocking on him, her eyes closed, her face almost stern with concentration. Grinning, he reached over for the roses and pulled a bunch of petals off the head of one of them. Crushing them between his palms, he took the fragrant mess and spread it over her chest, rubbing the petals against her soft skin.

"Oh!" she cried in delighted surprise. Her eyes popped open, lingered on his loving hands on her bosom as his hands rubbed fragrant attar into her skin. Tender thumbs massaged rose petals across her stiff nipples. "How did you ever think...?"

"Your husband is a love god, my girl."

She smiled and leaned her head forward to rest on his shoulder, continued to rock her hips on his hardness.

"Now that's something I had never thought of," James said softly as they watched the loving performance. "Would you have liked that?"

"Every woman likes flowers, dear man," Miranda said, her eyes fixed on the young man's hands as they grabbed his wife's buttocks and began raising and lowering her on his manhood. She could see Sasha's fingernails begin to dig into the skin on Tom's shoulder.

"Next time around, then?" James asked, smiling lovingly.

"I will be devastated if you forget, darling. Oh, I do think it is her moment!"

Sasha's face was screwed up in anticipation, her eyes tightly closed. Her heavy breasts swayed, bounced and shimmied as she lunged up and down on her husband.

Tom was smiling from ear to ear. As she began her penultimate cries of joy, he released her bum, moved his hands to her waist and pulled her down onto him, hard. Sasha shrieked and collapsed on top of her man.

Holding her firmly by her bottom, Tom continued moving inside her, but more slowly.

"Yes, I do think she enjoyed that," James said. "They're a good match, those two."

Miranda was staring at the girl's face, easing into relaxed joy now. "I remember how she feels, James," she whispered contemplatively. "It's not just the joy of the peak. A woman feels so full, so wonderfully blessed at a time like that. There's nothing like the man you love stretching you to your limits, filling you both literally and metaphysically."

James' figure sagged. He hung his head a little. "I'm so sorry, my dear, so very sorry. Every day, I wish that I still..."

"Hush, dear," she interrupted. "We had a lot of fun in our time."

"I know, but..."

She whirled to face him, her forefinger raised to his face. "But nothing, James van Ampt! Some things just have to be accepted. You were my first lover and my only lover. I was -- and remain -- completely satisfied. I love you more now than I ever did."

"And I you, Miranda, but I still miss some things."

"Hush, husband."

From their high point of view, they could see Tom beginning to move harder, faster. His strong arms bounced the slim girl's body up and down over his glistening organ as he moved into the final stretch of his own pleasure. Sasha began to pant and cry out again, louder than before. Then the boy went rigid under her, his nostrils flaring, before slowly relaxing. The two of them sagged, dozed in that sweetest sleep in each other's arms.

"Come, dear, the show seems to be over," Miranda said. "Time for us to go back home."

"I suppose," James replied, his eyes still fixed on the naked young couple. "Rather spectacular, one must say."

"I know, dear. I think I'm going to be shivery for days just thinking about this."

James just smiled.

+

As the days passed, the new couple settled into their new apartment. Love-making was noisy, often energetic and very frequent. James and Miranda, while rarely astonished at anything sexual anymore, were surprised at that last.

"James," she breathed one afternoon, watching the intertwined figures writhe below them, "I don't remember us being such sexual enthusiasts when we were that age."

"No?"

"Didn't we seem to fall into a routine?"

"Everyone does, I suppose, my dear." He smiled lovingly. "But I do remember taking you out to dinner and a show one evening..."

Her eyes flashed with bright laughter. "...leaving my knickers hanging on the hat rack by the door! Oh, I remember. You were so randy all night and so frustrated! I spent the whole night at the theatre torn between laughing at you and wanting to drag you off into a vacant box."

"It worked both ways, my love."

"And when we got back here, you had me bent over the hallway chair before I could even take off my boots. Such a stallion I married!"