Pete's a good natured guy. He understands having a little fun, hanging out and just being yourself. And he loves kids. He loves reading to them and helping them with their school work and building stuff. He used to do all that with his kids until Maddy, his wife, divorced his ass and took the kids.
Still he likes to be a fun guy so when Halloween rolls around he puts out some fake tombstones, hangs a few skeletons and plays creepy music from his porch speakers. Since he lives on a farm and the nearest neighbor is two thousand yards away and most parents take their kids into town for Trunk or Treat for safety he doesn't expect many visitors. He doesn't mind though because the lights and sound keep the teenagers from coming round to egg the house or some other nuisance.
A big bowl of candy sits within easy reach as he watches his horror film of choice. This year he is doing the double feature of An American Werewolf in London (the original) followed by Lon Chaney, Jr. in Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein. He'll eat most of the candy on his own.
Not ten minutes into the first movie the doorbell rings. At forty-seven Pete has seen a few kids come by so he doesn't think anything's unusual about getting visitors. It's just during the last five or so years there's been fewer and fewer. They do come early though so they should all be done by time his movie gets to the first attack scene. If he even gets another visitor.
At the door two small imps stare up at him from the porch. They chorus, "Trick or Treat!"
"Ooh, I'm scared," Pete shakes his rugged suntanned body for effect because he knows the kids like that. The two hold open grubby bags waiting for the goodies. Pete thinks the costumes are getting better every year. He can hardly tell that they're wearing masks and their parents must have set them up with some electronic voice modulator to get that weird tunnel effect. Odd, usually the parents are right at the edge of his yard but he doesn't see them anywhere.
Two chocolate bars into the bags and back to the film. Pete stops closing the door when instead of a thank you they say, "Stay in side for the rest of the night," in unison.
Pete looks at them quizzically as they leave without another word. They sure are fast he thinks as they vanish when they get to the end of his walk. Not a bad idea though he thinks to himself. He walks back in and then returns with a stool and the bowl of candy and a sign. With a marker he writes, Take One-Happy Halloween, on the front. Not a bad idea after all he thinks as he grabs a piece of candy and heads back to his movie.
Ten minutes later the doo bell rings. Pete ignores it figuring that they did it from habit and once they read the sign they'll take all the goodies and go. The doorbell rings again. Ok, he thinks, the kids really want to say I told you so. The sun had dipped past the horizon a few minutes ago so he turned on the light as he makes his way to the door.
The bell rings for a third time. "Beware for whom the bell tolls," he jokes to himself.
Pete pops the door open suddenly bent over making the goofiest face right at child height. "What the hell, give'em a little thrill," he thinks. And he finds himself staring right at the navel of a woman. Pete jumps up taking in the whole picture. The woman, girl, couldn't be more than twenty with dingy blond hair, pale blue eyes and a What-the-fuck sneer. "I beg your pardon," he stammers.
"Whatever." Taking in the whole picture he sees that she is dressed, if you could call it that, in red and white stripped knee-high socks, Daisy Dukes and a plaid shirt tied below her breasts open all the way. His cock stirs in his pants as his eyes linger a little longer on her cleavage than is strictly polite.
Behind her with one foot on the porch stands a guy not much older than her. At first Pete didn't notice him until he spoke. "Can we come in and use the phone?" The boy's hair is artificially black, mussed and greasy looking. He has a James Dean look; leather jacket over white tee, jeans and boots. Pete doesn't like him instantly.
Normally Pete is the model of hospitality, but on Halloween he knows there are crazies out so he is a little more cautious. "What's the trouble," he asks as he sizes up the two looking for danger, not seeing it to his misfortune.
"We're headed to a party and my car broke down over there," he waves generally off to the left.
"Yeah, sure, use mine," and he hands his cell to the kid without crossing the threshold. The girl licks her lips.
They stand looking at each other while her boyfriend makes the call. Pete couldn't help but be uncomfortable as the girl undisguisedly checked him out. It's like being licked as her eyes travel up his powerful arms, across his broad muscular chest before lingering on his crotch.
Likewise he checked her out from the candy red painted lips to the china white skin over her flat stomach and the nearly bony hips. He saw now that her breasts had only at first appeared large due to her thinness. In truth they were firm round globes, youthful and bouncy. "Ya live here alone?"
"I have a family," he stammers. Looking at her feels like falling in a dream and her eyes makes his balance disappear. He puts a hand on the door frame to steady himself. "I farm,' he says for no reason.
"A farmer? So, you till the earth. I bet you do a lot of plowing," she purrs.
Her voice is like sweet molasses with bourbon. When she looks back to his crotch he realizes that his dick is fully erect and making a tent of his jeans.
Just then the boy comes back and hands him back the phone, "All set." Seeing what's happening he goes on, "We got twenty minutes, for a hundred dollars you can get your nuts off in her, any hole."
Pete staggers like he's been hit. "What did you say?"
Enunciating every word, "You can fuck her for a hundred bucks," mocks the kid.
"You mean...," Pete stammers.
"That's right, Dude, she's my ho...," he begins.
