Halloween Delight

4: A Dance, a Delight, a Deception. Things in three's.

My suit was much as you might expect, a large shaggy looking yellow-feathered looking beast, complete with shaggy yellow head and all. Being seen in this thing, was not my idea of a good time, and yet.. considering the corner I'd painted Fucktoy into, Well, it was worth it. The night seemed to take forever to pass, especially if you were in a chicken suit. In the interest of not being recognized in the damned thing, I decided I would simply squawk replies to anyone and everyone.

I wasn't really interested in getting to know the neighbors better, Fucktoy however was freely circulating, talking to the girls, and turning down more than one drink she was offered. The latter, I decided I was going to change. I suppose the night was taking forever to pass for her as well, considering her costume, and the potential for embarrassment. I'm sure she was constantly aware of the attention she was getting. Sidelong glances, appreciative looks, More than a few invitations to dance. She might not have won the award for best costume, but I'd call it a safe bet, that even faithful husbands were thinking of her in bed that night.

Sometime around nine, I had grown bored, and was offering her the first alcoholic drink that she'd accept that evening. She knew my "offer" for what it was, and gave me a little glare when I pantomimed downing it, in front of the women she was talking with. She gave an over-loud sigh, rolled her eyes, and did such. I clapped my wings together, and encouraged her new friends to do the same. She had the grace to blush, but I'm sure she was trying to think up a more insulting costume to make me wear next year.

I gave her a bit, wandered off, and let her put it out of mind, and watched her. The costume was enticing to say the least, and time and again, I looked around just to see how much the other men in the room admired her paint job. This of course lead my imagination off on a merry little chase, and kept me occupied imagining for a while. It had been about 20 minutes since her last drink, and I proceeded to put something special into order. I filled two trays up with shots, and began moving around the room, offering them to everyone. Fucktoy's group was served last of course, and low and behold, there were around 10 extra's on the tray when each of the girls had taken one. I wonder how that happened.

I made a pleading gesture to the group, and using Fucktoy as my example(of course), I took up a free hand and put a second shot into it. Thankfully, looks can't kill, and she didn't want it to be obvious she was trying to warn me off. The knot of girls each took up two shots, and there was only one left on the tray, which I took into hand.

Letting out a particularly loud squawk, "Boooock!" I got the attention of more a less everyone in the room. The reasoning capacity of the human brain is fascinating, almost as much so as the capability for non-verbal communication.

"Boock.... bock, bock, bock!" was what I said. The assembled crowd however echoed.. "Happy Halloween!" The word Halloween is broken down into 3 parts to pronounce. Hal-o-wean. I may have said nothing that made any sense, but coupled with shots, a holiday, and that amazing tool of interpretation.. No one had any trouble figuring out what A toast was, or how to react, or what to toast.

As Fucktoy and her friends downed two shots each, I splashed mine over my plastic beak, I rather detest the vice of alcohol, and knowing the scent would fade quickly enough. I'd helped her build up her alibi, all that was left to do was watch.. and give the slightest nudge. I began moving around to the scattered groups of chatting and chuckling men.

A nudge in the ribs, and nod towards the subject was usually enough to get any fellow to glance and appraise. No matter that the subject was dressed up as a cow, or that the chicken was saying only "Bock..Bock, Bock Bock Bock Booock Booooock" The words said mattered far less than the one they were each thinking. 'Now there, is a cow worth driving' may have matched my timing, but I leave it to you to guess what the fellows heard, and more importantly.. what they were thinking.

All I can say is the chuckling increased, and someone voiced a sentiment about wishing he'd dressed up like farmer brown. Beneath the beak, I grinned. I repeated this process twice more, before someone finally acted on the idea, and went to take the cow for a dance. She had, in the meantime, taken a few drinks on her own, and it might have helped that the fellow offering this dance was dressed in a most interesting choice of costume.

He was a spartan. I could only conclude we had single neighbors, because I saw a decisive lack of his female counterpart, and were one such present, I doubt he'd have been allowed near another woman. His costume was a near match for Fucktoy's in revealing-ness. A simple leather skirt(longer than her's actually) that came down to mid thigh, A red cape held up by two leather straps, Bracers on both forearms and shins, sandal's, and most importantly, the body to wear such, and pull it off.

At the time "The monster mash" was playing. I recall this only as it was a horrible song for the sort of dancing they were doing. Let us simply say, it was far less about steps, than about grinding, and pressure. There was much less shaking and moving than there was thrusting and rubbing. I admit, I was thick and full at the sight of it. It was a struggle to keep from getting hard and stiff, but I rather needed to be able to walk.

They danced a bit longer, and I could tell she knew I was watching them. I could tell this of course, because she looked my way a few times, and indulged herself. Once it was grabbing his ass while I watched, another time it was whispering into his ear, and the third time she even began to nibble on his neck. Yes, those drinks were having quite an effect on her. I distracted myself by thinking to my fallback costume in the car(a short way's up the street), and how and where I would change. But let's return to that later.

Fucktoy whispered one more thing in his ear, and sauntered off, stopping briefly(we'll return to that), ere departing through a doorway. As hard as I was fighting not to be, her spartan must have been wearing a cup. It looked like a softball was pressing out against his skirt. I didn't know what she said to him(she told me later that night) but my guess was to wait a while, and then a place of where to join her. What she did say differed a little. "Backyard, wait three minutes, Bring a friend. I dance better with someone behind me too." Again, I didn't know this at the time, but it had all the earmarks of trouble, knowing my slut, so I watched the spartan.

He had no trouble picking out someone who had been watching her dancing. Truthfully, he had a few options in that regard.. a great many male eyes were on Fucktoy the cow, as the saying goes 'hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave'. Perhaps out intrepid spartan had a sense of irony, perhaps it was simple chance that he picked the first fellow to meet his eyes, either way, the fellow he exchanged words with was(amusingly enough) dressed up as a cowboy. I was hard pressed not to laugh inside my chicken suit, having been able to take a guess what she'd said.

But let's return to her departure. She looked at me after her shoulder and displacing that grin I so adored on her face, she blew me a kiss. It was a challenge, and I knew it, The drinks might have been my forcing her hand, but there was little enough coincidence in the fact that she got me into a chicken suit, and was toying with another man on the dance floor. After all, who would expect a chicken of all things to be aggressive and assertive? I spent a few moments after her departure grinning in unseen appreciation of her twisted little mind. My daze was broken when I saw said spartan and cowboy exiting through the same doorway. Things were about to get interesting.

I waited a few moments, and followed. Where the pair of them went out into the backyard, I headed down the hall and found the bathroom, no sense in following too closely. Leaving the light off as I stepped in, I shut and locked the door before peering out the window, to watch the gentlemen walk off into the darkness. It seemed, my plan was working out nicely. I waited another minute or two and wandered out the front door before circling the house. It's hard to be stealthy in a large yellow chicken suit.

As I moved through the darkness, my mind ran through every curse in the book for my sluts choice in costumes. The damned thing made too much noise and was too bright, even in the dark. I resolved to burn the damned thing as soon as I could. Suffice to say, it took me all too long to catch sight of them, and it was all too hard to remain unseen. I did have some luck in that regard however. To whit, they were in the very back of the back yard, between the rear fence, and a toolshed.

It wasn't centered in the yard, so I was able to slip around a side and watch. MY delay it seemed, had given them more than enough time. I arrived to find Fucktoy kneeling atop her spartan, rocking up and down as cowboy bob was clutching her head to his hips. Say what you will, my slut was certainly motivated if nothing else. I had perhaps the best angle I could have hoped for. She was facing towards me, with the spartan lying beneath her, his head pointed towards me, while the cowboy was standing in front of her, his head tilted up to see stars.

Fucktoy was rocking between the two, and at first I couldn't put my finger on it, but something just seemed.. wrong.. with the sight. It wasn't a matter of action or deed, but it was as if my eye was malfunctioning. I dismissed it as a trick of the light, and stared more intently. My dear, darling little Slut(with a capital "S") was truly enjoying herself, bouncing and bobbing. She proceeded like this for a fair bit, perhaps half a minute before she pushed the cowboy out of her throat, and proceeded to do what she did best: Goad.

"You want...," A hastily inhaled breath, "More than.. mmmm," A low moan, "My throat." She held him back, despite his obvious desire, both of her hands wrapped around him and working up and down. He agreed quickly(I assumed), and she told him what she wanted. Her voice was obviously louder than prudence would dictate, that goes without saying in this sort of situation. "Go find a friend," she nodded back towards the party, "He can have my throat when you get back... You..." She made a show of licking her lips in the pause, "can have my ass."

That had an effect on him alright. He grabbed her head and tried to shove her down on his cock, but she was having none of it and just turned to the side. His cock hit her cheek and left a slick smear across the side of her face. Meanwhile, her wet little cunt was busily working on the spartan, who was working up quite a sweat, and working up to what was bound to be quite an orgasm. As the cow boy released her head and starting trying to somehow get his cock back into his pants, Fucktoy glanced down at the spartan while the cowboy moved off around her back towards the house. Calling over her shoulder, she amended herself, "Two! Bring two friends.." She called out to his departing form before lowering her voice back down to simply loud. She caught my eye and finished "He's not going to last much longer."

"Are you?" She looked down to ask him, sparing only a brief glance in my direction through her lashes. "No.. your almost done," She teased him, both in words and actions. She rose up onto her knee's and paused. That's when I figured out what seemed odd about the sight earlier. My mind had been as busy as her cunt, so its no surprise really that I missed it, but her spartan was most impressive. She was up on her knee's entirely, and he was still inside her. I guessed, I hoped, he was just barely inside her, but as I watched, it became apparent how large he was. She leaned forward, and pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply while she taunted him with her wet tightness, refusing to descent back down onto his shaft while she amused herself with his tongue. He, meanwhile waited maybe as much as a second and a half for her to sink down his length, before losing his patience, and bucking his hips up.

The force of it rocked her up off her knee's for a moment. She knew I was watching, she was trying to goad me now.. I decided not to give her the satisfaction. Besides, I needed to quickly see to a few things. Behind the corner of the shed, I listened to her and him while I changed costumes. I had fetched my spare when I went out front, and brought it with me. It was a simple affair, a black robe, and a white mask which is familiar if you've ever seen scream. Beneath the chicken suit, I had worn black pants, a black turtle neck shirt, and.. black boots inside those damned chicken feet.

It was a simple matter to strip in haste, throw the robe on, and don the mask. I slipped off with the chicken suit, and kept an eye on the cowboy. I won't get into details, but like the spartan, I watched to see who watched her when she left, so I had a target in mind already. I asked to speak to him alone and I made a brief simple offer. "You saw the cow dancing earlier. Want to fuck her until -you- have had your fill?" Not many men would turn down the chance to fuck a woman until they were satisfied. Simple math really. Men want it 100% of the time, women want it perhaps 10% of the time. A lucky man might find a woman who would give an extra 10-15% when she's not in the mood. That's double or more as often as she wants it.

The world is literally full of men who simply aren't fucked enough. I hadn't taken a breath before he'd agreed, and I laid out what he needed to do. I handed him the chicken suit, and told him to step behind the garage and change, I'd keep an eye out. "I'm her husband. Relax, I'm OK with it. Put that on, head around behind the toolshed down back, and all you have to do.. is don't talk, and leave the mask on. She pulls shit like this to goad me, so this time I'm going to get even. As long as your in the suit, and she thinks your me.. you can do anything you can make her. She might argue, or goad you, she's like that. If you have the balls to throw her down and fuck her throat.. she'll take it. What's more, she'll like it."

I heard the gears whirling, and left him with a few more words. "Give it say.. 10 minutes, I'll have her in position, and in the middle of something." The cowboy, was in the middle of an animated talk with A devil, and some sort of ghoul, things were going to get interesting shortly. I flipped up the turtleneck, tucked the neckline of the robe up over the mask, so that it hung at the base of me neck and was covered in black, and moved through the darkness to watch again. This would be interesting.

She was still riding the spartan when I got back, another ten or eleven times he drove up into her like a battering ram. Predictably, she was taunting him, asking if he'd ever had anal. Asking if he liked the idea of the cowboy sliding deep and hard into her ass. His responses were a mixture of groans and growls. It seemed he rarely got to try anal when women saw his size. Fucktoy was playing the consoling temptress at that point, Cooing out how sorry she was, and how maybe he'd been trying the wrong sort of woman.

Again, I could hear gears whirling. "You mean... " he started, only to be cut off as she said, "I might." A habit of her's when she wanted to piss me off, I hated her interrupting me. "You would let..." She cut in again, "I might." I could care less about her interrupting him, in a way it was actually reassuring that she didn't feel any need to listen to his thoughts or opinions. Good thing she didn't know that. "Think you could..." He began again, and this time, she had a different answer, he was asking the right questions now, and she was letting him know it. "Only one way to find out..." She let it trail off in an unspoken dare.

I'll mention now that head to toe in black, in the dark of night, behind a tool shed, with only two people nearby, who are both engaged in the pursuit of pleasure, I was invisible. I could have been jerking off three feet away from them, grunting and groaning as much as they were, and I doubt either of they would have taken any notice of it. The idea was tempting, but watching what would come seemed to be much more interesting.

I mentioned I was invisible for one simple reason. I was only three feet away. Standing in the open, simply holding still, with one hand under my robe, squeezing myself. This is only worth of mention because as good a view as I had, It was a blur to even me. It's only because of what she told me afterwords, combined with being able to see the place and position they ended up in that I can piece together how they flowed from one to the other.

Large, lightly calloused hands wrapped around the smallest point of her waist before she could give voice to the unspoken taunt. Laying on his back, he had ample leverage, and ample strength to lift her up, and simply place her up above his head. That was exactly what he did. As she was forming the first word of "What are you doing," he flexed his muscles, his entire body almost. He rolled over with speed as various muscles on his left side jerked up against gravity, while his left shoulder dug into the grass.

By the time she can completed "Are you" he had most of his torso on her back, his hands were in fists, planted on the ground to either side of her ribs, his entire body ready for one more snap of motion. At the end of "Do-" she felt his head against her cunt again. Let me side track for a moment because through all of this, I did git my first clear glance of his shaft. As it turned out, it was neither a cup, nor a softball under his skirt. Let us say if you took a plaster mold of his cock while it was hard, you could have dumped a can of Pepsi into it, and you might have a quarter of the mold left empty. It was less a matter of the width than of the girth. This is not to say the length wasn't impressive, He hung half way to his knee, Ten inches, give or take, by my guess. But the width and breath of him is what must have made her eye's widen.

He was somewhere between six, and seven inches around. And to put that into perspective, a Soda can is Eight inches around. Fucktoy would say later that it was like getting fucked by a beer bottle, but back to what was going on. By the time she had completed "What are you doing?" He was inside her cunt again, all the way. She's told several times now that she left like head of his shaft was going to pop out of her belly button. But this change in position was not so that he could fill her cunt, that had been nothing more than a case of over-eagerness coupled with poor aim.

He wanted her ass, and she had offered it, or at least hinted, but that was good enough for him. He withdrew, and this time put a hand on his shaft, steering the head as he parted her. She wound up biting her lip as his steel like cock drove the width of his head in. "Ah! Gentle," she pleaded behind her, "Your so big. I'm not sure I can..." It was, a red flag, to a bull. He leaned forward over her again, and cupped one hand over her mouth, and he whispered(loudly) into her ear. "To late."

I don't know how much he had partaken of that evening, but coupled with his desire, this promising vision before him, who seemed in danger of not keeping her promises, and his long suppressed desire to try a woman's ass, Gentle was not on the menu. He slid in slowly, savoring the feeling of how tightly she clenched, trying to keep him from plunging deeper. She failed. Mister Hyde was awake, eager, and already in place. He was neither stopping, nor slowing down at this point.