On All Hallows’ Eve

"Once a year her lover comes."

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The pumpkin lit in the window signals my readiness. Naked, lying with eyes closed, I feel his cool fingertips stroke my skin. Goosebumps rise as my nipples harden. I moisten at my core.

My invisible lover kisses me, seeking my tongue. He tastes of crisp Autumn air, woodsmoke, and him, whoever he may be. Within me, he satisfies and fills me. He bends me to his will in silence, satiating his need and mine. Finally, thunderously climaxing, I sense he is gone.

The candle flickers and dies. The flame extinguished until next All Hallows’ Eve when he will rise again.

Published 1 year ago

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