There are several groups in the main road and the adjoining streets that were made up of kids and parents or teenagers, but a lot less than last year. Those who had gone out into the early night-time were all dressed in a wide array of Halloween costumes so goblins, werewolves, vampires and zombies roamed the streets. They all wander from door to door trick or treating and pay little attention to your solitary figure on the path. You hadn't bought a costume but you'd dressed in long, black boots over black stockings, worn a little black dress then thrown a large black cape over everything and pulled up the black hood to conceal your face. It was enough to pass muster amongst the monsters and ghosts as you walked briskly along the road.
There is a chill in the air but that isn't what sends a slight shiver up your spine as you walk past the old graveyard. Its dark expanse spread to both sides of the road, the night held in place by ancient walls and old iron gates. You cross the road, moving away from the brick gatehouse that has guarded the cemetery for over a century, one curtained window is lit. Vaguely you make out the outline of the house you're heading toward, perched on the border of the graveyard. Now you're uncertain that this was a good idea, it had been easy to say yes to a friendly drink and a catch-up with a friend she'd bumped into on the bus. You'd not seen Mike for nearly twenty years before that, when you'd been great friends... perhaps more than just friends on occasion... at university. You'd kept in touch for a while before Mike had got a job in the Far East, then you'd just lost track of him.
What were the odds he'd turn up less than a ten minute walk from her house all these years later? They'd recognised each other almost instantly, both seemingly stunned, then they'd sat next to each other on the bus and hurriedly summarised their last twenty years in about five frantic minutes. Mike still looked good in his forties, some grey in his dark hair and short beard but not overweight and still with a mischievous glint in his dark brown eyes. He'd taken up yoga and aikido during his fourteen years moving around Far Eastern countries and still kept in shape now. Then he'd worked in several countries around the world before a minor heart attack had encouraged him to slow down and return to the UK. The rapport that had always been there at university just seemed to click back into place, so when Mike had asked if you fancied drinks and a proper chat on Halloween it had been so easy to say yes.
As you get nearer to Mike's house you see that it's one of the larger, older homes on the road and that it's set back some distance from the path. There is a sturdy stone wall surrounding the large front garden and a closed, black iron barred gate at the road end of the grey brick path that leads to the building's front door. You tentatively push on the cold metal of the gate and it swings open in front of you. You step onto the garden path, closing the gate behind you, and glance around the walled area in front of the impressive house. It was difficult to describe the space as a garden but it possessed an eerie beauty. Beyond the grey brick of the path, which followed a curvaceous route to the door, the ground was covered in some kind of dark gravel. In the dim light you cannot make out the colour but you can see several large sculptures and an ornate seat near to the path. The nearest sculpture is in the front right corner of the yard and appears to be a female figure in wood, standing on one leg as she stretches upward but captured as she hurls her arms out wide and throws her head back. There is little detail in the weathered, dark wood figure but you can sense exciting emotive feelings.
You move along the grey path until you stand near to the left wall and in front of the second sculpture. A muscular figure carved from stone raises a sword as if to strike, but he has no armour as he charges into battle naked, and you can't help but notice his carver has depicted him as both aroused and well endowed. You take a moment to admire the statue's form, again feeling a pulse of sensual energy run through you. Then you continue along the path to the seat, crafted as hands being held in an open cup. It seems to call to you and you pull aside your cloak and sit upon its smooth marble surface. Immediately, ripples of delight run through you and you gasp in unexpected joy, but you don't stand up. The waves of pleasure washing along every nerve in your body grow stronger so you moan and shudder, powerful jolts of sheer bliss blast through you and you cry out in ecstasy, arching your back but refusing to leave the seat as further orgasms rip through your shaking body. A hand then pulls you upward and the exquisite joy vanishes. You struggle to stay on your feet as your muscles recover.
"Good evening..." Mike stands beside you helping you balance "...I see you discovered the Venus Throne"
"Mmm..." you reply "...very nice."
"Let me take you indoors and get you a drink..." suggests Mike "...then you'll feel better."
You allow yourself to be guided along a few more steps of the path, into a small porch where a large pumpkin with a carved smile watched the pair of you go through the solid front door. Mike closed it behind you and you pass out.
