The night passes, and she sleeps wrapped in his arms for the remainder of the night. Disturbing fragments of last night's events, all mixed up with incoherent chards of horrific, vividly sexual and graphic dreams of endless, agonizing orgasms, eternal moans of pleasure and despair, and long entangling, woodlike limbs grasping for her, flashed before her.
She wouldn't exactly say she was well rested, but nevertheless, she had indeed been fucked like never before, or even though she would. Her body felt a tad sore, but she found herself in a shimmering state of complete satisfaction.
Eventually she decided to get up, and managed to unravel herself out of his grip without waking him up before making it out to the kitchen. She needed coffee now, strong black coffee to start her day. She always thought the coffee maker was making such a soothing sound, and the sheer smell of fresh coffee made her brain begin to wake up.
She poured herself an extra large cup and sat down by the window facing the outside street. Ever so slowly, the city had started to come to life.
A lonely car passing by, with a frosty windshield and a tiny cloud of white smoke coming out of its exhaust.
A man wrapping his jacket around him as he crosses the street.
"It seems to be a cold day," she thought to herself as she kept drinking her coffee.
Everything seemed so weirdly normal, as if everything was just the way it used to be.
People outside going on with their daily, day-by-day business, the refrigerator started its cooling-all-your-groceries sound, the clock on the wall was tirelessly trying to hypnotize her, and a sex-crazed pumpkin man was laying passed out over her bed.
She giggled to herself. She was actually happy.
She really needed a shower.
On her way to the bathroom she stopped by the door to the bedroom. The pumpkin man was still sleeping, or whatever pumpkin men do when they are not pounding the brains out of innocent, unsuspecting and ill prepared damsels in distress.
That last part made her giggle. Perhaps she wasn't all that innocent after all, ill prepared, yes for sure. But unsuspecting? Hardly. She admitted she had been hoping for something, but now she wasn't sure about what.
The hot flow of water refreshingly washed over her naked body, rebooting the rest of her. She soaped herself thoroughly with a nice, flowery shower gel and she used way too much shampoo. She loved being completely covered by that rich, fragrant foam, before she let it all wash it away. The room filled up with a mist of hot steam, causing condensation on walls and mirrors. Yes she had more than one mirror.
As she stepped out of the shower, she virtually couldn't see anything and it took several minutes before the steam cleared and her reflection stared back at her in the mirror.
She opened her towel and glanced at her body. She had always liked her breasts, at least as far back as she had any. She kept watching herself in the mirror as she grabbed them, lifted them, squeezed them together. Yes, she indeed enjoyed having them.
She began putting on makeup. Most of the time she didn't use it, unless there was a special occasion. But if she now had become the queen for the pumpkin king, she might very well do it. Make herself beautiful for him. Make herself presentable in his presence.
Suddenly she was interrupted by a loud, wrecking noise from inside the apartment, as if furniture had started swapping places, objects falling to the floor, and wailing grunts.
When she carefully opens the door, she sees Mr Pumpkin has fallen over a chair in the kitchen, and was lying motionless on the floor. However, not for long, as he soon got up again. His wobbly legs kept stumbling around the kitchen, constantly walking into things as if he couldn't see where he was going.
Didn't he? Was he in fact blind? She thought to herself.
Disappointed, she realized that he in fact must be blind. She felt stupid. After all her efforts to look her best for him, he actually was blind. He wasn't able to see her at all, so what difference would it make if she put on two pounds of makeup? She might as well have painted a clown face on herself and it wouldn't have made a difference.
She shuddered at the thought. Perhaps that wouldn't be so misplaced after all. Clowns were in fact one of those things she hated the most--
She kept watching him stumble around, and after a while she started to feel sorry for him. He probably had woken up, all horny again and she was nowhere to be found. The thought of him... Actually them, as she was most in on it too--
The thought of the two of them tumbling around in bed, that hot, steamy morning after encore, that all day of passionate love making--
She corrected herself. Make no mistake, this was fucking. Wild, untamed, unbridled fucking. This was probably as far away from love making as she could possibly imagine.
Nevertheless, the thought of his big, throbbing cock stretching her, the furious pounding, his grunts, was turning her on again.
She was just about to go out to him, lead him to the bedroom, and offer herself to him, for him to do with her whatever he pleased, when the bathroom door made a squeak.
The pumpkin swiftly turned around. He obviously could hear well enough.
She froze in panic, as he began to haste his way across the apartment, straight towards her. He grunted, his arms reached and grasped in front of him as he rapidly came closer and closer. She screamed in sheer horror as the door handle slipped out of her hand and she tried to make a run for it further into the obvious dead end of her bathroom.
His tall figure appeared in the door, his hands gripping around the door frames as he "stared" into the bathroom, sniffing for her scent, before he slowly approached her.
Her heart was pounding loud enough for him to hear it, she was horrified, yet she was horny as fuck. She was pressing her hands against her mouth so she wouldn't make a sound, and she watched his huge manhood waving, erect and eager for her, as he came closer and closer. It was hard and almost dripping out of excitement. She very well knew that he would catch her, eventually, she wouldn't stand a chance. The situation that had unraveled was like something directly out of a horror movie, but she was pretty sure that all he wanted to do to her, was to fuck her, "fuck" her brains out... not "chew" on it.
She made an attempt to run for it, tried to force herself around him, but he was too fast and too strong for her, and she felt his hands grabbing around her shoulders, and down over her breasts. Her towel dropped to the floor as she tried to squirm her way out of his grip. His hands were caressing her all over, firmly squeezing her breasts, eagerly seeking its way in between her legs and grabbing around her aching, wet pussy.
Something about the bone chilling horror and intense sexual situation was turning her on more than ever. Was this her kink, really? Had she unknowingly had this fetish dwelling inside of her, just waiting to get out? Patiently waiting all those years for the perfect moment? Waiting for her to, one fateful night, build herself a monster, a sex-crazed, horny monster that would catch her and pound her brains out every chance it got.
Their wrestling ended her up pressed against the bathroom sink, with her face against the mirror and her breath condensated against it. His fingers kept exploring her and she was stuck, completely stuck. She closed her eyes and decided to just give in and let him please her with his big warm hands. She couldn't help herself from moaning as he slid his fingers inside of her, the wetness of her on his fingers made him grunt. He liked it, he liked how wet she was, and she enjoyed how much he liked it.
She felt his hard cock stuck between her legs was getting harder and harder, as if it almost unfolded itself, and he was grinding it against her pussy, making it all wet and slippery. She prepared herself for what was about to come, but she wasn't quite prepared for his intentions, as he retracted his cock out from between her legs, and let it slide up between her butt cheeks, and started pushing it against her unsuspecting rear entrance, her ass.
In panic she felt him pushing his cock against her, in a rocking motion.
"No, no, no, wait, wait, wait!" she yelled, she clenched her eyes, preparing herself for what was about to happen...
Nothing. She waited a couple of seconds before she started to breathe. To her sheer surprise he had actually stopped. She was still stuck, locked in his grip, but he had stopped.
