A little story for the 2019 Halloween event.
I truly love the Halloween season. It's that time of the year when I can mix my drugs haphazardly, and people willingly accept my strange behavior. Enjoy the season people. Don't let the world pass you by.
If you need your stories to adhere to reality, then hit backspace now.
Please read my profile for my stance on comments. Feel free to email suggestions or to start a conversation. Private messages work too.
Glenn Frey, Don Henley: "I've been searching for the daughter of the devil himself. I've been searching for an angel in white. I've been waiting for a woman who's a little of both, and I can feel her but she's nowhere in sight."
+ + + +
Some guys seem to be born with that sparkle in their eye when they're talking with women. The confidence they exude works like an elixir on the ladies. I've admired them from afar. My name is Keegan and I couldn't be more different from those guys if I tried. I can stammer and stutter around the opposite sex like no other.
It wasn't surprising then that I was still a virgin when I took a girl to senior prom. We were both eighteen and rumor had it that Dixie, my date, wasn't a virgin. I sported a boner the whole week leading up to the dance.
Things went great all evening and I learned something I didn't want to learn. With our clothes scattered around us, Dixie grabbed my cock.
"Can you make it any bigger?"
"Make what bigger?"
"Your thingy. When John and Dennis put their thingys in me, they were much bigger than this."
It was all I could do to keep my erection. My introduction to sex was a physical success but a mental catastrophe. I never went out with Dixie again. I don't mean to stereotype, but yes, Dixie was as blond as they get. Who uses thingy as a word?
+ + + +
Without confidence, it's very difficult to mingle with the ladies. It took the wife of my best friend to find my future bride. She worked with Bridgette and claimed she was more of a recluse than me. We stuttered and stammered our way into a courtship.
I'd watched enough instructional porn, and read the how-to books, to at least have some clue as to what to do in the bedroom. It proved to be enough. Although not a virgin, Bridgette was as clumsy in the bedroom as I was. Fortunately nature has a way of bringing two naked bodies together. It probably was a little laughable, but our first sixty nine attempt was a spectacular success. I thought Bridgette was going to crush my skull, but when she finished me in her mouth, I didn't care. What a feeling. Then, over the next fifteen minutes, I hooked Bridgette on oral sex as she had several orgasms of various magnitudes.
When we were in the bedroom, Bridgette encouraged me to be assertive. When lightly restrained, Bridgette will even have an orgasm with just my cock. Size might matter, but it isn't the only thing. That first cock based orgasm did more for my overall confidence than any counselor ever could have.
+ + + +
You can only ignore things for so long. I started noticing the classic signs of cheating. Classic, I guess, if you read the same stories I do. There was the too sexy for work clothes. Not over the top, but certainly more revealing than a wife of six years should be wearing. Bridgette changed jobs a year ago. She was now what they called a community personal secretary. She handled the logistics for her group of four managers. She didn't report to any of those men, instead reporting to a vice president.
It was a big step up in her salary. In the first six months she stayed late maybe three times. Lately, it's been once or twice a week. I know, another big red flag. Some days she takes a quick shower before we go out to dinner. Some days I come home to find that she'd just finished taking a shower. Yep, have to wonder don't you?
Our sex life has changed. On the days Bridgette works late, sex with me is off the table. Tough to ignore all of these signs, but somehow I did. It took me a while to connect the dots. That changed a few weeks ago. With the help of the cheapest investigator that I could afford, he confirmed that Bridgette was the company whore for three of her managers.
Divorce was a given. Revenge for her lovers had to be something less than fatal, but permanent. I certainly didn't want to spend time incarcerated. It was bad enough that they'd turned me into a cuck.
Day after day I scanned the internet looking for stories about avengers. It was an article about a man who had amputated his own cock that caught my attention. The thought was foreign to me. What in the world would possess a man to give himself a sex change? The article mentioned black magic. Staying up late, especially on the nights that Bridgette was avoiding me, I visited web page after web page until I tracked down a lead.
There was a lady who lived somewhere near the swamps. She was rumored to be a spinster who more than dabbled in the dark arts. It would be a three hour drive to the city nearest her, so I decided to fake a fishing trip this weekend.
+ + + +
Out before dawn on Saturday, I embarked on what I hoped would be a productive day.
The locals were very hesitant to talk with me. Whoever this lady is had their full attention. Finally an old guy, rocking in his chair outside of the barber shop, was kind enough to give me a clue.
"Son, you didn't hear it from me. If you're lucky she'll let you live. Just telling you so I won't have blood on my hands. Best bring a one eyed toad or a four leaf clover as a gift. Take Oak Street past where the gas station used to be, then left between the dark trees. Don't pass up a place to park and then walk the last half mile. Good luck. You want an open coffin?"
The lump in my throat made it difficult to swallow, or respond.
"Ummm, got any idea where I could find that toad or clover?"
"Try the spells and potions tourist trap down on Main."
"Thank you sir. I think."
He chuckled to himself. I was hoping the joke was on me. Was my revenge worth losing my life? He had to be kidding. Certainly she wasn't as bad as he portrayed. Was she?
Finding the tourist trap was easy enough. I bought both the one eyed toad and a four leaf clover. Better safe than sorry.
How in the hell do you know where the gas station used to be? I drove slowly down Oak Street, pulling over occasionally to let those behind me pass. I encountered a large slab of concrete with no buildings on it. Down the road I saw two enormous black trees. I took a chance that this was my turn off.
Following the wall lined road until a clearing, I saw where cars had previously parked, so I did the same. My palms were sweaty and my legs were wobbly. Thankfully I didn't encounter any barking dogs as I think I would have shit my pants.
The sign by her fence enclosed front lawn was simple enough 'Darla Retrecir: Shining a Light on the Dark Arts'
The caps on the fence posts were shrunken heads. My breathing was shallow and rapid. What in the hell am I doing here?
An instant before I knocked, the door swung open. My hand recoiled as if a cottonmouth water moccasin had struck at me.
"Keegan, I've been expecting you."
