THE VOYEUR by C. Lakewood It was a nice night, Jack thought. Perhaps a bit warmer than normal for this time of year...at least the kids' costumes seemed lighter than usual. He had to smile as he watched them scurry from house to house, collecting their loot. He'd grown up in this town, and it was good to get back to the old neighborhood again. Some things were unchanged. The kids, for example, and their get-ups -- the majority home-made, with a few store-bought (but most of those clearly hand-me-downs). Some things were different, though. Even here, in suburban middle America, the kids had to be chaperoned, regardless of how old they were. And he missed the aroma of burning leaves, so integral to his memories of autumn in his youth, before the EPA storm-troopers intervened. Groups of kids dashed past him as if he weren't there, intent on their own concerns. He didn't mind, and he didn't recognize any of them. Things change. Drifting through the neighborhood, he wondered how much and in what way Sally had changed since he'd seen her last.... Then three small figures -- a devil, a witch, and a skeleton -- romped noisily down the sidewalk and paused momentarily in front of a house...THE house...once HIS house. Seeing that the porch light was off, they carried on down the street. He and Sally hadn't had kids of their own, nor any nieces or nephews. Halloween had been the one time of the year that, briefly, they could pretend differently. Sally.... During the six years since their separation, she had gone through several phases. When he had visited the first time, she had been consoling herself with a bottle of vodka and a vibrator. (He was concerned about the former, though he always enjoyed watching her use the latter....) The house was dimly lit inside. It was also securely locked, but he could get in.... On his second visit, she'd had company: an oily Don Juan she'd apparently met in a bar and who clearly preferred Greek. Next time, there was a pair of husky biker-types -- with tattoos and piercings and funk -- who spent the evening doing a succession of DPs. Jack was not too sure where Sally was headed, but he was incapable of doing anything other than watching and worrying. And he did worry about her, despite his circumstances. He had to admit that the next guy, an 18-year-old supermarket stock clerk, was some improvement. He was scrawny and pimply and 22 years younger than Sally, but he was eager to learn...and eager to please...and reloaded so very quickly.... The last time Jack had come by, however, she wasn't there -- and she'd stayed out all night. He had left at dawn, miserable at not having seen her. And now he was afraid that that would happen again. To pass the time, he moved about the house. Each time he visited, there were fewer things remaining that he and Sally had shared. The massive Victorian sideboard was still there, thank God. He'd always loved that -- and the items that were arranged on it: a Toby jug in the image of Winston Churchill, a miniature cannon in silver, and a parade of porcelain mugs commemorating five reigns. The cannon was badly tarnished. The couch was new, and he didn't like it. He'd always wanted a neat Chesterfield, not something that resembled a heap of Naugahyde bags full of...whatever. He was looking askance at a wall of new pictures and shaking his head, when he heard voices approaching the house and, a moment later, a fumbling at the lock. Concealed, he watched as two female figures lurched into the front room, giggling. Sally threw off her windbreaker and flung herself, a-sprawl and gasping, onto the hideous new couch. The other woman looked down at her and said, "Nah-nah, sweetie. I want you naked. So get stripped." She was younger than Sally (though not as young as the grocery boy). At first glance, she might have been in her early 20s, possibly a college girl. With short auburn hair, freckles, and elfin features, she rather resembled Julianne Nicholson. Quickly discarding her own jacket (a nice green suede one), she kicked off her penny-loafers and skinned out of her black jeans, leaving her in sweat socks, bikini panties, and a "Queen" t-shirt. (Jack decided he could cut her some slack -- that was the only rock band he'd ever liked.) She pulled off her socks, wiggled her toes, and then bent to undress Sally. Shoes, socks, slacks, blouse, panties -- all went flying, this way or that, willy-nilly, quickly followed by the last of the girl's clothes. Jack was surprised to see that Sally had no pubic hair now. "Oooh, Beth. I...ah...need an-other drinkee," Sally groaned, as the girl helped her to her feet. They're a really enticing pair, Jack thought. They were both about the same height (which was handy for them), but otherwise there was quite a contrast. Sally with dark hair (now touched with grey?), bedroom eyes, olive skin, and a few extra (but not unattractive) pounds...and the girl -- Beth -- slender, fair, coed-cute, but.... But Jack had learned to look beyond the surface. And, beneath the girl's superficial softness, she had a hard edge. Still, the surface was very easy on the eyes. They rubbed against each other, tit to tit and belly to belly, and Jack sighed inaudibly. Geez, two-thirds of a threesome, hot and tipsy, every man's dream. Back in the day, he'd have been on that in a flash. But now.... Of course, back in the day, Sally hadn't been into that sort of thing. Damn! Meanwhile, Beth had seated herself on the couch and pulled Sally down to kneel between her spread thighs. Beth's cunt was hairless, too. Nice! "Here you are, Momma," Beth purred. "Drink up." Sally didn't have to be told twice. It was fascinating to watch Sally gobbling the girl so avidly. Sally's butt cheeks parted, and Jack could have sworn her asshole was winking at him. He wondered how long Sally had been going down on girls. Certainly this wasn't her first time with Beth. Had there been others? Maybe. Probably. And now the girl was cumming...repeatedly...loudly. Sally never made much noise when she orgasmed, just a low hiss. Beth, though, moaned and groaned and gibbered. It was wonderful theatre. Sally raised her head, her face smeared with Beth's juices. "Please, baby?" Beth smiled thinly -- or was it a sneer? "Okay, Momma. The hard way. Right here. Go fetch." After a barely perceptible hesitation and a tiny whimper, Sally scrambled awkwardly to her feet and staggered off toward the bedroom, ass and tits jiggling enticingly. When she returned, she was carrying some straps in one hand and a humongous black dildo in the other. Beth deftly assembled the straps into a harness, attached the dildo, and buckled it on. Sally immediately began mouthing the fake cock, giving it a slick coating of saliva. Beth didn't wait long before raising a foot and using her toes to investigate Sally's cunt. "Down on the floor, Mommy. You're so wet now, you don't need any more spit on this thing." Obligingly, Sally dropped to a crouch and stuck her butt in the air. Doggie style had always been her favorite position. But no one (not even the bikers) had ever fucked her as powerfully -- or as long -- as Beth proceeded to do. She rode Sally relentlessly. It went on and on, with Sally cumming and cumming and cumming, fucked into semi-consciousness, only to be revived by sharp slaps on her butt...and fucked some more. She was babbling incoherently when Beth finally pulled out. "My knees are getting sore," she said, tartly. "We'll re-locate to the bed." It took a moment for Sally to comprehend the words, but finally she heaved herself erect, swayed wearily, and then tottered off in the direction of the bedroom. Beth swaggered after her. And Jack followed, discreetly. ****************************** Throughout the rest of that long night -- could it have been nine hours...or more? -- Sally and Beth would doze a while, until one or the other roused, and there would follow more licking and/or fucking. And then they'd subside again...for a time. And Jack watched it all. While it had been obvious, from the opening moments of the first scene, that Beth was the domme, during the course of the night Jack began to perceive that there was some real mutual affection between them. Was it the sort of relationship that lasted? He hadn't a clue. But it might...it might. And, even if it didn't, even if it shouldn't, there was the here and now. And that was something. It made it easier to leave again, knowing that Sally finally had someone who just might be more than a mere one-night stand. ****************************** Jack knew that dawn was near and that it was almost time for him to go. Taking one last look at the sleeping forms on the bed, he blew an unseen kiss at Sally and moved silently back toward the front of the house. He stared into the hall mirror and concentrated. Initially, there was nothing in it but the wall behind him. Then, slowly, a shape -- his shape -- began to form. A moment later, and he could recognize himself (in shades of grey at first, gradually shifting into full color), as he had been exactly six years ago, after a last-minute trip to the nearby convenience store to replenish the supply of treats. He looked the same now as he had then, even the two crimson and black holes in the front of his white shirt, gifts from the idiot muggers who had destroyed one life and wrecked another for $27 cash, an unreliable wristwatch, and four large bags of M&Ms. But time was running out for another year. He sighed, as his image in the mirror began to fade. "Until next Halloween, Sally," he said, silently, a sad smile on his face.... And then, like a dissipating puff of smoke, he was gone.