One Halloween

Katrina sat down across the young man Indian style, carefully arranging the dress around herself while she nursed a steaming cup of coffee. "Is it a deal?" she repeated again.

The man sighed. He wasn't unpleasant to look at, but still not very handsome. He wasn't exactly stupid, but clearly not the sharpest cut Jack-O-Lantern. His name doesn't even matter. Not as far as Katrina VanTessel was concerned. The only real thing that mattered was the ample size of the man's purse.

"I don't really understand. We just met, just this evening. And you want to marry me?"

"Yes. Is that so difficult to understand?"

"Why? You say you don't love me and that you have no interest in going to bed with me. Ever. What kind of marriage would that be?"

Katrina smiled softly, and her womanly charms, she knew, were already at work, melting the young rich fellow before her. "Why, an arranged marriage of course. I'm a little broke, and I need someone of your wealth. Besides, through the years, every man that has wed me has found their life substantially more lucrative. I have, you see.... a sort of Benefactor who accompanies me."

The man chuckled. "Every man? How many men could you have possibly married?" He looked upon her, and in truth she was beautiful. Blonde hair that teased the middle of her back and the softest face only made possible with youth. Granted, she had a sophistication that only comes with age, but our non-too-bright fellow didn't notice that.

"I have married twelve men. And have had nine marriges that were long and rewarding."

"And the other three?" The man could not contain his laughter or his mocking smile any longer. Yet Katrina was unphased, returning the softest of smiles through her proud full lips.

"They lost their heads. The husbands, I mean."

Isn't it funny how sometimes a person can say the right thing... or the wrong thing, perhaps... and completely change a person's mood? That's what happened to this man, and he stopped laughing. I should interject and tell you, the reader, that Katrina wasn't going to divulge the secrets of her Benefactor at this point. She felt that telling too much too early would scare the young man away and lead to his unnecessary premature death. The Horseman was such a fickle fellow about covering his tracks.

"Horseman, indeed," Katrina thought to herself. How long had the he taken to cruising about in her BMW? It didn't really matter, though. His method of operation was still the same. Cleaving heads with this blade or that one. Still, he had mellowed through the years... ever since he had taken the most important head of all... Katrina's maiden-head.

"I will explain to you, young man, since you are suddenly such a captive audience. It all began on a very important Halloween Party at my father's house..."

*******

"Ichabob," I remember calling out in delight when I saw him at the party. To set the record straight, he really was a school teacher, and not an inspector or whatever from New York City. But most accounts are correct in saying he was a bit awkward looking. The quintessential bookworm. But he was cute, in his own way. And a proper gentleman. His intellect appealed to me very much. I was wooed by poetry he recited... seemingly just for me. He was in fact quite taken with me. And if the truth be known, I with him. Until the events of that evening, I may have indeed married him.

"Katrina," he whispered my name, and closed the door behind him. We were alone in the reading room, just the two of us. We could still hear the boisterous sounds of the party outside. Well, Ichabob stalked towards me in a way that I had never seen him do before. There was hunger in his eyes. Finally, his hands were around my waist (a very forward move for the young teacher) and I could smell a bit of whiskey on his breath.

"You've been drinking." I stated simply, smiling... my tummy flittering about with the way he was holding me. His hands were slowly rising up, and the garment... you know how they were in that day... started to push up on my breasts.

"Of whiskey? Only a little to warm me. But of your beauty? I would drink all this night and burn hotter than that fire."

Poetry. I tell you, I may have indeed fell in love with that man. Before I could respond, he kissed me. Not a storybook kiss or a romantic's tender kiss. A kiss full of passion, my God, I think he was trying to devour me. He took my breath away with that kiss. I felt it burn through me, through my breast... I felt it bring my unbroken sex to such a tingling yearning. His hands were on my breasts and my nipples swelled at his touch, even through my garments. I found myself cooing softly, and pushing against him. And before long, he pulled away from that kiss and pushed me none too easily on the sofa.

"Ichabob? What..." And that was all I had time to say. He was on his knees, then, and hiking up my dress. I should like to think I was a lady about the affair and tried to stop him. But he was already making me feel better than I had felt before.

It happened so quickly. His tongue so gifted and velvet with words was proven gifted and velvet against the flower of my sex. I was like a flower, and his tongue parted the petals that were the lips of me. How I must have glistened with moist dew. How could I but help the pleasure cries? I couldn't. To this day, I touch myself in perfect memory of how his tongue touched me.

He teased the entrance of me, but never penetrated. Through my folds in long slow strokes, yes. But he never entered me. Tracing circles and letters and other arcane shapes over my clitoris, yes. But he never entered me. He never took me. Never truly. I always wondered to this day, what if he had.

But, ohhh, how I gave myself to him. I pushed against him, and his maddening strokes. I cried out in passion, uncaring if my father or Brom or any walked in. I thrust against him the hardest when his tongue touched my opening... wanting more of him. But he did not give me what I craved.

I suddenly started to imagine his manhood buried within me. I imagined him thrusting into me, hovering over me like an angel... or devil... those hungry eyes looking deep into me. And as those thoughts came to me, I thrust the hardest against him. I cried the loudest. My body rushed and released and crashed against him as a relentless orgasm thundered through me.

I looked down at him, barely breathing, and he had appeared from beneath my dress. He wiped his chin away and smiled at me. He came up on me, and I thought and prayed he might take me then. But rather he kissed me simply. "I love you, Katrina," he whispered, and went back out into the party.

*******

Katrina looked away from the young man as tears swelled in her eyes a bit. "That... that was the last kiss I've ever had."

*******

It took me long moments to compose myself. But at last I went back out into the main hall where the party was in full, and where Brom... tall, muscular, brutish Brom... had his arm around Ichabob's shoulders. "I'm telling you, Ichabob. The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow is very real."

My poor Ichabob, how he tried to smile, but in truth, you could all but hear his knees knocking. "And on a night like tonight," Brom continued, "On Halloween Night! Well, make way for the covered bridge. Run for it. Run for your life. Spurn your steed on as fast as it will gallop. The Horseman's steed is the Devil's steed, breathing fire. And it likely as not is faster than your horse. But the Bridge isn't far, shcool teacher. Cross the Bridge, and your life is spared... until next Halloween."

Ichabob, so gallant and loving and sure of himself moments before, now revealed himself the awkward young teacher. My heart was still his, however. He looked at Brom, "You do t-t-tell those old wives tales well, Brom. V-v-very well, indeed."

"Wives tales?" Brom's voice boomed across the hall. "I save the stories for you, school teacher. The Horseman is real. It was just last Halloween that ole Mr. Wiggins disappeared. You see, he didn't make it to the bridge in time. I tell no tales, Ichabob." At that moment, Brom looked at me. Oh, it was no secret he was courting me and indeed wanted my hand in marriage and my body in his bed. But mercifully, father had saw I had no desire for the ogre and had helped me dodge that predicament, though Brom was rich and it would have made a fine marriage for all intents and purpose. Brom stared at me long and hard, and I think he saw how I glowed. And I think he guessed why. Talking to Ichabob, but still looking at me he said, "I'm off. Sleepy Hollow can rest well tonight. I will patrol the streets and keep it safe from the Horseman until dawn."

And he left.

The party continued for a bit, and everyone relaxed. Except for me. I mingled, but kept my eyes on Ichabob. I still burned for him. The thoughts in my head were wanton and surprised me. But I wanted him, and prayed he would approach me. But sooner than I would have liked... he left.

I moped for only a moment, disappointed he didn't come to me. But quickly I decided to take matters in my own hand and dismissed myself to bed. I went to the stable and mounted my horse without the saddle and galloped away.

I knew the direction Ichabob would be traveling in for a time, though I knew not where he resided. But there was really only one main road from father's house. Urging my horse on, I quickly came upon Ichabob. But I stopped a good distance away as fear clutched my heart. Further down the road, Ichabob had stopped too, looking off to his left.

What he looked at was obvious. There, in the middle of the corn field, standing high above the harvest was the Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. Of course, the Horseman was indeed headless, but just the same, it was clear the demon stared evily at poor Ichabob. In his left hand he easily held a flaming Jack-O-Lantern carved in the most evil of dispositions.

There we three stood still in a silence only born of the witching hour on Halloween night. I'm sure I was unseen by the two, and unheard as well, I could barely breathe much less speak. Blessed Ichabob had the presence of mind to react first, it seemed, and suddenly urged his horse on. The Horseman immediately raised his flaming pumpkin high as if to herald the chase, and gave desperate chase to my would be lover. I followed along quickly on my own horse.

"Brom!!" Ichabob called out. "Brom. Where are you? I need you. Help! Brom!"

I saw not much of the chase, for I rode so hard my eyes teared in the chill of the night, but very soon I saw the bridge that Ichabob was fast approaching. I reigned on my horse, and stopped, able to see both ends of the bridge. Fear clutched my heart, and offered so many prayers up to the Heavens for Ichabob that he would make it. The Horseman was all but upon Ichabob when the guant teacher lowerd forward on his horse and made a desperate charge for the bridge, and he made it. The strange echoing of the horse's hoofsteps on that bridge was sweetest music to my ears.

The Horseman stopped just short of the bridge, and just as the stories say, he hurled that pumpkin with devilish might, and no sooner had my Ichabob crossed the bridge did the Jack-O-Lantern connect with his head and knock him from the horse that galloped still hard into the night.

Such a fall could not have killed my shcool teacher, I was sure. And that meant he was safe from the Horseman. Being a foolish girl, I perhaps didn't consider the Horseman might come for me, and I watched from my position, thinking the Horseman would go away and I would go to my fallen hero.

But the Horseman stepped from his horse. And made a sort of wiggling motion with his tunic... and from the collar popped the head of Brom. And he let out the most raucous laughter. Brom! Not the Legendary Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. But Brom!

My eyes, I know, flashed in anger, and I charged my horse and stepped off swiftly, instantly pounding my fists into the laughing brute, crying out, "How could you?" and so forth like that. I could have been a gnat for all Brom noticed.

There I was, beating on him, and he just laughing. But we both noticed at once, and as if by some strange compulsion we looked across the bridge. Of course we saw Ichabob sprawled out awkwardly. But standing next to a large black stallion was... the Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.

Slowly, he started to cross the bridge, leaving his mount there next to Ichabob. He seemed to radiate cold, and there was no doubt in the mind of either myself or Brom that this was indeed the Legend itself. He stopped when about half way across the bridge, and he spoke... telepathically he spoke, like a whisper in the back of my mind. "Yield to me, and the only blood shed tonight will be your maidenhead."

I took a step back, confused all at once. I burned for what he suggested in truth, and that feeling surprised and shocked me. It dissolved my fear of him, but my mind thumped hard within my skull, urging me to think clearly. I was barely aware of Brom mounting his horse and running for his life. Again the whisper in my mind came. "Yield to me."

And I answered, "Yes."

The Horseman wasted no time and finished crossing the bridge, dispelling at once that rumour. He grabbed me and none too carefully layed me down. I breathed hard and ragged. He was moving so quickly I couldn't think. He was hovering over me, and it's funny... I kept looking right where I thought his eyes should be. And before I knew it I felt something massive pressing against my sex. But unlike Ichabob's teasing tongue, the intrusion was not a mere threat... but quickly a reality. The Horseman pressed his unholy shaft deep within me, and it seered me as I opened before him, bleed for him as he ripped me apart.

There was such pain, and I wondered what sort of union I had agreed to. Yes, agreed. I knew I had. I had wanted this thing. I had turned down so many wanton men. I had not the twinge of desire for any of them. I was in a daze, trying to reconcile this spirit who was claiming my body to a balance of reality. Indeed, I wanted it. It hurt, and it wasn't very pleasant at all. But the same, I wanted it. More than I had wanted Ichabob.

He moved and thrust into me. God, the parts of me he filled, I knew not I had. Nothing subtle about his technique. But as his powerful body rocked into me, I came to realize it was a Lover's technique just the same. My mind was dizzy, my body in pain and I wanted this ordeal to be over.

And then he came. He erupted his seed within me, and in that instant, he washed away my guilt and confusion. The fiery feeling of him bursting into me was new and different and more than I was ready for, and to my surprise, I cried out in an orgasm I never saw coming. His fluids swirled and mixed with mine, and my Love Cries did not stop as my body continued to wrack in pleasure. All of Sleepy Hollow must have heard me.

The Horseman moved slowly in me, spending the last of himself in me as I felt the fading tremors of my orgasm. "I love you." he whispered in my mind. "And as long as my seed keeps you filled, Katrina, time will not touch you."

I looked at the void above his neck. And fear clung to me slightly. But more powerful than that fear was the realizaiton I had give myself to the Horseman, and would continue to do so forever on to eternity.

*******

Katrina paused to consider the young man before him. She thought he looked rather pasty and confused by what she had just confessed, and frankly, she couldn't blame him.

"I think that was about that time the Horseman and I noticed Ichabob had come to his senses. I often wonder just how much he saw. But I could see the insanity burning in his eyes before he ran away, never again to be seen in Sleepy Hollow. Or anywhere else, to my knowledge."

The man was chuckling now.

Without pause, Katrina coninued. "I had a moment of clarity then, and realized I would need a worldly husband for his coffers if for nothing else. So, I went to Brom and made him an offer. The same offer I just made to you. Now, what do you say?"

The man chucked still. "I think that is perhaps one of the sadder stories I've heard. All this time, you expect to me believe you've not been kissed? I think I should fix that." And he got up and walked over to Katrina with lust clear in his eyes.

Katrina sighed and sipped the last of her coffee. She didn't even bother to look at the man as he approached.

Suddenly, the young bachelor was lifted by the scruff of his shirt collar and with one hand thrown across the room, smashing the coffee table that broke his fall. Lying amidst shattered wood, he looked up to see the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow looming over him. The Horseman drew his sword for the first time in this tale, and leveled the point at the man's throat. His gulp was very audible.

Katrina came up to the Horseman, joyous he was finally wearing the leather trenchcoat she had recently bought for him. "See, Lover, I told you it would look good on you," she cooed, putting a soft hand over his chest and clinging slightly to him.

Katrina then turned a compassionate gaze to the young man. "This really is a good deal for you. If you think you can satisfy your lust by some whore or what not, you'll find I won't complain. And the Horseman seems to bring good luck to all of my husbands. Think carefully, though. Take your time. This decision is important to you... but certainly not worth losing your head over."