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Archive name: hallow04.txt (m/F, 1st, voy)
Authors name: Too Much Time (toomuchtime2002@hotmail.com)
Story title : Trick or Treat

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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2003.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
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Trick or Treat (m/F, 1st, voy)
By Too Much Time (toomuchtime2002@hotmail.com) 

***

More of TooMuchTime's erotic writings can be found at: 
/~TooMuchTime/

***

Henry felt like an idiot. Here it was, Halloween. All 
his friends were out egging people's doors, throwing 
water balloons at cars, and just generally causing 
trouble -- exactly what every 14 year-old boy SHOULD be 
doing on this day in a small town... exactly what he 
should be doing. 

Instead, thanks to his mom, who had to work an extra 
shift tonight, he got stuck walking his little sister 
Trish around for trick-or-treat. It just wasn't fair. 
He loved his sister and all, and she wasn't nearly as 
much of a pain in the ass as some 8 year-olds he knew, 
but still... when was his mother going to understand 
that he was growing up now, becoming a man, and that he 
didn't want to be a babysitter any more?

"Let's go down Dogwood Street," Trish said, tugging at 
his hand. This year, she was a white bunny rabbit. The 
costume was store-bought, and Henry himself had taken 
her to go buy it, at the local 5-and-10 shop.

"Why Dogwood?" he asked.

"Because nobody's over there," she said. "Maybe they 
have more candy."

Henry didn't quite get the logic of this, but he agreed 
anyway. "Whatever." It seemed to him, if no other kids 
were on this street, it probably meant there was no 
candy to be found. But he didn't feel like arguing with 
her. 

They'd been out for about an hour now, her bag was 
getting pretty full, and he could tell she was getting 
tired. Soon, she'd get cranky. Dogwood Street would 
take them back to Canal Street, they could make a 
right, and a few blocks later they could cut up 
Fairlawn Street and head home.

It turned out he was right. There were no porch lights 
on at all on Dogwood ... and therefore no candy. By the 
time they reached the small, quiet intersection with 
Canal, Henry was more convinced than ever that it was 
time to just go home. He noticed that his shoelace was 
untied, and told Trish to stand still while he took 
care of it. 

As he knelt down, he heard some voices approaching out 
of the darkness down the street. He recognized them 
immediately. It was Joe and Eddie and Russ, his 
friends, laughing it up. Shit, he thought. The last 
thing he wanted was to put up with ribbing from those 
guys right now. 

He'd lied to them the day before, and told them he was 
going to a party at his cool older cousin's house, two 
towns over, where he'd probably be playing kissing 
games with older girls. If they found out what he was 
really doing, he'd never hear the end of it. Bad enough 
they always made fun of him for being the shortest one 
in the pack.

Henry grabbed his little sister's hand and quickly 
ducked into the bushes in front of a large house on the 
corner.

"What are you do--" Trish started, but he quickly 
clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Ssshhh," he whispered. "Just be quiet for a few 
minutes."

To Trish's credit, she did as she was told. Henry 
quickly noticed, however, that the streetlight was 
shining directly on them, and that if his friends 
passed by close enough, the bushes wouldn't provide 
much protection at all from being seen. 

Again, he grabbed his sister's hand and scurried low 
with her across the small yard in front of the house, 
this time not stopping until they'd reached the 
shadowed safety of a narrow alley between the large 
house and the one next to it. He let go of Trish's hand 
and peeked around the wall to see what the guys were 
doing.

 Thank god, he thought. As he watched, they passed the 
spot where he'd been tying his shoe, laughing and 
talking about something, and continued on down Canal 
Street. When Henry couldn't hear their voices any more, 
he took a deep breath. That was too close, he thought.

Before this surge of relief had time to settle in, 
though, he was presented with a whole new dilemma.

Without warning, there was a bright light in front of 
his eyes. It took them only a few seconds to adjust, 
but when they did, he realized that he was standing 
directly in front of a window, and that somebody inside 
the large house had just turned the light on in that 
room. 

Shit, he thought again. Now he was going to get in 
trouble for lurking outside people's windows. His first 
instinct was to immediately grab Trish and run again, 
but a voice inside his head told him to stay calm. So 
he pushed his back flat against the alley wall, kept 
very quiet, and waited.

The bottom of the windowsill was about 3 feet off the 
ground, and fell just about at chest height for Henry, 
who didn't take long to figure out that he was looking 
at a bathroom. It was twice the size of the one that he 
and his mother and sister shared. Along the wall that 
he had the best view of were wall-to-wall mirrors, 
which extended from the ceiling down to the sink level. 
The fixtures on the sink itself, as well as everything 
in the bathroom, were shiny and fancy. Clearly, whoever 
lived here had a lot more money than his family did.

Henry didn't have much time to size the room up, 
though, because the person who'd turned the light on 
was already walking through the door. It was a woman, 
about his mother's age, with shoulder-length black hair 
and very striking features. He guessed she must be 
Italian, because her complexion was fairly dark and her 
nose, while almost too big, seemed to suit her face. 

It was framed nicely by wide brown eyes like a doe's. 
As for her body, well ... that caught his attention 
immediately. All she wore was a short pink bathrobe, 
cinched tightly around her thin waist. Stopping at 
half-thigh, it accentuated not only her toned legs and 
wide hips, but also the noticeable swell of her chest. 
This girl looked just as "stacked" as his friend Joe's 
mother and older sister, both of whom Henry had drooled 
over countless times in the past. He began to wonder if 
it was an Italian thing, and if so, he might consider 
moving to Italy when he got older.

Again, a surge of fear shot through him, and he 
considered running. But by now, his hormones were 
beginning to get the better of him. He'd never seen a 
naked woman in person before, and on the off chance 
that he might see one now, he didn't see how he could 
pass up the chance. So once again, he decided to keep 
very quiet... and wait.

As he watched, the woman turned to face the mirror 
almost as soon as she entered the room, sparing not 
even so much as a glance at the window. She turned the 
water on in the sink, then used a scrunchie to pull her 
hair back as she presumably waited for it to get warm. 

Testing the water again, she reached down, splashed 
some on her face, then began to soap it up with 
something she had in a jar -- probably Noxema or one of 
those other smelly things his mom used. He wasn't 
nearly as interested in this, though, as he was with 
the fact that as she vigorously scrubbed her face, it 
set her boobs to jiggling inside her robe, which was as 
beautiful a sight as he could imagine ... and which set 
his manhood to rising inside his jeans.

After a minute or so of this, the woman rinsed her face 
off, dried it, then turned and walked to the shower on 
the other side of the bathroom, still seemingly unaware 
of his presence outside the window. At this point, 
Henry could only see her reflection in the mirror... 
but he could still see her. 

And when she reached in to turn the water on in the 
shower, it set his heart to jackhammering inside his 
chest. Because if she was taking a shower, it meant she 
had to take the robe off first, which meant that any 
minute now...

But then everything suddenly changed. The woman 
stopped, and looked over her shoulder toward the still-
open door with a look of consternation on her face. She 
reached back into the shower and turned it off, then -- 
much to Henry's dismay -- left the bathroom, flipping 
the light off on the way out. Shit, he thought again. I 
just never get a break.

"Oh well," he muttered. And in that moment of 
disappointment, Henry suddenly remembered his sister. 
It was probably just as well that things hadn't gone 
any further than they did, considering that she was 
standing right next to him. He spoke quietly into the 
darkness. 

"Ready to go, shrimp?" He reached his hand out, 
thinking he'd feel her head a foot away from him. But 
there was nothing there. "Trish?" No response. 

He dared to speak a little louder, he eyes trying to 
adjust to the darkness in the alleyway. "Trish, where 
are you?" He made his way slowly and quietly up the 
alleyway. It was the only way she could have gone, 
because he'd have noticed her walking past him back out 
into the yard. "Dammit, Trish, quit playing."

By the time Henry reached the end of the alley, he 
realized what had happened. Peeking around the wall, he 
could see the woman ushering Trish into the house 
through the back door. He backtracked along the wall to 
the first window, which looked into the kitchen, and 
saw the woman squat down to his sister's height and 
touch her face. Apparently, Trish was crying. Great, he 
thought. I guess I won't be winning any brother of the 
year awards this year. Let's see what kind of a shit-
fit mom has about this when she finds out.

There was only one thing to do. Henry took a deep 
breath, then left the alley, walked around to the door, 
and knocked. The woman answered right away, and as she 
pushed the storm door open, the first words out of her 
mouth were, "You must be Brother Henry."

He felt immediately guilty, and thought for sure that 
it must be showing on his face. It was one thing to 
peep on somebody through a window, and it was another 
thing entirely to have to then talk to them face to 
face a few minutes later. "Yeah, I'm Henry," he said.

"Come on inside," the woman said, smiling. "She hasn't 
been here long." She had a noticeable accent. Maybe she 
was not only Italian, but actually from Italy?

Before he was even two steps in the door, Trish rushed 
up and hugged him. 

"Where were you?"

"I was right there..." For obvious reasons, he 
hesitated to say exactly where he was, instead adding, 
"where we were."

"No you weren't." His sister's voice was getting angry 
now.

The woman came to Henry's rescue, though. She put her 
hand on Trish's head. "Now, now," she said. "Your 
brother is here now. That is the important thing, no?" 
Trish shrugged, letting go of him, and gravitating 
toward the obvious maternal comfort of the woman 
instead, who took advantage of the moment to offer his 
sister some cookies.

"Thanks," Henry said. "But we should be getting home." 
In the process of making eye contact with the woman, 
his eyes panned up from Trish's face to the woman's, 
and along the way, couldn't help but notice that her 
robe was considerably looser than it had been in the 
bathroom. Perhaps squatting down had loosened it? 

In any event, from this angle there was enough of a gap 
between the folds to show off the side of one breast. 
He only lingered on the sight a moment, but thought for 
sure that she would notice. Yet if she did, she didn't 
seem to react in any way.

Trish, meanwhile, had other priorities. "Why can't I 
have cookies?"

"Please," the woman said. "I insist. Someone with such 
a cute kitty cat costume should have some cookies and 
milk."

"Hey, I'm not a cat, I'm a rabbit!" Trish yelled.

"Oh, I am sorry," the woman said, giggling as she 
raised a hand to her mouth. "A bunny rabbit, of course! 
Please excuse me. I may as well almost be blind without 
my glasses on." Interesting, Henry thought. No wonder 
she hadn't noticed him standing outside the window, or 
copping a look at her just now. "So what does big 
brother say," she asked. "Can the cute bunny rabbit 
stay and have some cookies?"

"Sure, why not?" Henry said, his eyes this time 
focusing down directly at her chest as he spoke. When 
they returned to her face, it was clear that she'd 
noticed nothing. This is too cool, he thought. He could 
pretty much stare all he wanted, and she'd never 
realize. Almost as good as being invisible -- a fantasy 
he'd had more than once.

The woman poured a glass of milk, then brought it, a 
plate of cookies, and Trish to the adjoining dining 
room. Henry watched her all the while, and quickly 
began to realize that she was even more attractive up 
close than she'd seemed from outside the bathroom 
window. Very pretty, and with a seductive wiggle to her 
step. 

The way her breasts shifted and settled inside the thin 
robe with only the slightest motion was almost 
mesmerizing. And the way her firm round ass looked 
through the robe when she bent over to put everything 
on the table... incredible. 

Without his even realizing it, a fresh new erection had 
cropped up in his pants, and he wished more than 
anything that he could reach in and start jacking off 
right there on the spot. But of course this would be a 
bad idea. There was no way she could be THAT blind, was 
there? Still, there was another option...

"Excuse me," he said to the woman, "but could I use 
your bathroom?"

"Yes, certainly. It's right down that hall. I think the 
light is still on."

"Oh, I see it. Thanks." Henry made his way down the 
hall, and felt an odd sense of deja vu as he stepped 
into the bathroom -- just as he'd watched the woman do 
ten minutes ago -- and pushed the door shut behind him. 
The door was old and skewed, and didn't quite click in 
place or anything, but after giving it the hardest push 
he could, it seemed to stay put. 

He did, however, make a point of quickly pulling down 
the shade, for obvious reasons. After this, he wasted 
no time. Within seconds, his pants and underwear were 
down around his ankles and he was sitting on the toilet 
seat, his skinny legs spread at the knees, his eyes 
closed, a clear image of the busty Italian woman in his 
mind, stroking himself for all he was worth.

This went on for about ten minutes, until Henry could 
tell that he was just on the verge of cumming. He 
paused, opening his eyes to find the toilet paper or 
tissues he'd need to use to catch the mess as he made 
it... and saw something that terrified him. The door to 
the bathroom was open. Wide open. And the woman was 
standing in it. With glasses on. Watching him, with 
kind of an amused expression on her face. "Having fun?" 
she asked.

Henry's first impulse was to blurt out, "Oh, SHIT!" 
which he did, and struggled to reach down and pull his 
pants up as fast as possible. But he was in too much of 
a rush. The maneuver was clumsy at best, and he only 
succeeded in falling over onto the floor and nearly 
banging his head on the sink on the way down.

The woman's first reaction was to raise one hand to her 
face, shush him, then take another step into the room 
and re-shut the door behind them. "Quiet," she said. 
"Your sister is asleep at the table. You'll wake her."

This, of course, immediately confused Henry. What was 
she talking about? How was the fact that his sister was 
asleep more important than the fact that he'd just been 
caught masturbating in a stranger's house? He brought 
himself to a sitting position on the floor, and again 
started struggling with his pants, trying to pull them 
up, his erection wagging around all the while. Again, 
he fell over.

"Calm down," the woman said. "You are going to hurt 
yourself. Bang your head or something."

Almost frantic now, Henry tried again to sit up, his 
hand slipped on a throw rug, and down he went once 
more. Frustrated, he realized that he'd begun to cry. 
He felt embarrassed, ashamed, guilty, and afraid, and 
didn't know how to handle those emotions all at once. 
Dammit no, he thought. Don't cry, not now. But the 
tears were already there. He'd always been an emotional 
child, prone to cry for no reason at all, and took some 
ribbing for it when he was in grade school. He thought 
he'd outgrown it. Apparently he hadn't yet.

"Oh, now now," the woman said. "It's okay." Her voice 
was suddenly very close, and as Henry glanced up, he 
saw that she was squatting beside him. Her hands found 
his shoulder and she helped him up to a sitting 
position, propping his back against the wall. 

Then, to continue the comedy of errors, her foot 
slipped on the same rug that his hand had a few moments 
before, and down she came as well... right on top of 
him. Instinctively, Henry threw up his hands to break 
her fall -- one caught her arm, and the other caught 
her stomach. But something short, sweet, and amazing 
happened as well...

As the woman fell, her chest landed directly on Henry's 
face. In fact, for all of about ten seconds, as both of 
them readjusted their weight, her warm breasts pressed 
and rolled against his face, the satin of her robe 
whispering smoothly across his skin and the subtle 
smell of her perfume filling his nose. 

For Henry, it was perhaps the most profound experience 
he'd ever had in his life. What's more, several times 
her hip and leg bumped his erection, which up till that 
moment had begun to flag a bit. Now, however, it sprang 
to life again.

"I am sorry," the woman said, finally getting her 
bearings and taking a seat on the floor, sitting 
Indian-style in front of him. "I can be so goffa 
sometimes."

"So what?"

"Goffa... uh, clumsy?" It must have been an Italian 
word.

"Oh. It's okay," Henry said, still crying a bit, trying 
to pull his legs up to hide his aroused member. But by 
now, his pants and shorts were so tangled around his 
ankles that he couldn't even manage this much. His hard 
cock stood up straight and tall -- well, as tall as it 
got anyway -- and was as obvious as a giant fly in a 
small bowl of soup. "I should be the one saying I'm 
sorry."

The woman looked more amused than ever. "It's okay," 
she said, reaching out to put a warm, well-manicured 
hand on his knee. Her nails were painted a bright red, 
and this seemed to arouse him all the more for some 
reason. "You are just doing what boys your age do. 
There is no reason to be sad about it."

"I know, but... in your bathroom. That was wrong."

"Why?" she said, looking almost insulted. "Is my 
bathroom not good enough for you to pleasure yourself 
in?"

Henry didn't know how to respond to this. "I... no. I 
mean, yes. Of course it is. Obviously."

"Well then," she smiled. "What is wrong with it then?"

"Nothing, I guess. If... it's not wrong to you. I 
guess."

"It is most certainly not wrong to me. But may I ask 
why you chose my bathroom?"

Uh oh, Henry thought. This could get tricky. "I... um. 
I don't know. I was just in the mood?"

"Just regular teenage boyness?" she asked, gesturing to 
his exposed erection.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"There was nothing specific to make it happen?"

"Well... I don't know."

"You don't know? Or do not want to say?"

"I... both I guess." Henry couldn't make up his mind if 
he was really enjoying this conversation or if he 
wanted to run screaming into the night. A bit of both 
maybe. He'd never had a conversation this frank about 
horniness with anybody, much less an attractive woman 
who was twice his age.

"Why, what are you afraid to say?" she asked, again 
looking almost insulted.

"You know. Just... private things. Embarrassing 
things."

"What, you can sit here letting me see your splendida 
erezione, but you can't tell me what made it that way?"

"Splendido what?"

She giggled at bit at this, then pointed slyly at his 
lap. "Your beautiful hardness."

Did she just say beautiful? He blushed instantly. She 
was probably just being polite. Still, she was right, 
of course. What was there to hide at this point, 
really, considering what she'd seen already? Still, he 
wasn't sure ...

"Please," she said, leaning forward, offering a clear 
glimpse of her ample cleavage, whether she meant to or 
not. "There are no secrets here. Tell Mama Gina all 
about it." But as Henry stared down into her robe, into 
the valley between her magnificent breasts, she 
apparently figured it out for herself. "Oh, I see. Is 
that what this is all about?"

Henry shook himself out of his drooling reverie.

"What? Sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"Did not mean to what? Stare at my tettas?" Henry 
didn't need a translation for that one. It sounded 
close enough to the word he and his friends used. She 
smiled devilishly. "Oh, I think you did mean to."

"I--"

"In fact, I think maybe you were staring at them in the 
kitchen, when I didn't have my glasses on yet. Weren't 
you?"

Henry nodded.

"And I think maybe you liked Mama Gina's tettas so much 
that you had to come in here and pleasure yourself. Am 
I right?"

Again, Henry nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice 
cracking.

"Well, well," she said. "Arrapato E onesto." This time, 
Henry just looked confused, and waited for the 
translation. "You are both a horny AND honest boy."

"I try to be," Henry replied. "Um... honest I mean."

"Well, I believe that honesty should be rewarded," she 
said, still smiling, and reached down to the sash on 
her robe. Slowly, teasingly, she untied it. 

"Do you agree?" she asked.

"Y-yes. Definitely." Henry hoped he wasn't dreaming.

The woman ran a fingernail up and down the hem of the 
robe, teasing it open just a little. "Are you ready for 
your reward then, young Henry?"

"Oh yes."

She glanced down at his now throbbing erection. "Yes. I 
think you are." With this, she spread the robe open and 
pushed it aside. Her now-revealed tits bobbled 
slightly. They were perfect. As huge if not huger than 
Henry had expected, bigger than the biggest grapefruit 
he'd ever seen, round and firm, the nipples dark and 
wide and erect and curving outward slightly. If only 
she really was his "Mama", he didn't think he would 
ever have stopped breast-feeding.

At this point, Henry didn't quite know what to do. He 
stared, of course, his mouth partly open. More than any 
other time in his life, he wanted to jerk off. But for 
all of her sexual teasing, he wasn't sure whether she'd 
get mad about it him doing that in front of her or not. 
All he knew was that he was about to explode.

"So, Henry. Tell me. Are they everything you dreamed 
they would be?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he said. "And more. Holy shit, more. They're 
beautiful!"

She smiled. "It makes Mama Gina very happy to hear you 
say that." With this, she pushed the robe off entirely, 
over her shoulders and down her back, uncrossing her 
legs and standing all in the same motion. The robe fell 
to the floor around her feet -- which he saw now had 
toenails painted the same bright red as her fingernails 
-- and Henry was greeted to a worm's-eye view of her 
black bush looming above him.

He'd seen pictures of several women's pussies in dirty 
magazines before, of course, but all of them, it 
seemed, had been either trimmed to almost nothing or 
shaved entirely. Hers, however, was lush and dark and 
hairy, almost the size and shape of some of the smaller 
bikini bottoms he'd seen girls wear at the beach. 
Unlike the women in the magazine, hers added a bit of 
mystery to the sight. He couldn't help but wonder what 
it would feel like to run his fingers through that bush 
... or even his face. What would it smell like?

Henry let his hungry eyes trail upward, where they 
fixated once again on her amazing breasts, which from 
this angle jutted out even more seductively from her 
body, swaying slightly as she moved her weight from one 
foot to the other. She reached her arms down to him. 

"Stand up, please." 

He did as she said, taking her hands and allowing her 
to pull him up. Once they were both standing, facing 
each other, the height difference between them became 
even more noticeable than it had been in the kitchen. 
She stood almost a foot taller than him ... which put 
her tits directly in his face once again. 

"Now give Mama Gina a big hug," she said, and Henry 
almost fainted on the spot.

Again, though, he did as he was told. He reached his 
arms around her as she did the same, and as they 
hugged, her huge wonderful bare tits pressed into his 
face. The nubs of her hard nipples kissed his cheeks. 
"Such a good boy you are," she said, reaching her hand 
up to the back of his head, running her long red nails 
through his hair as she rocked her body a bit, until 
one of her nipples landed squarely in front of his 
mouth. 

"Mama Gina loves her bamabino so much." 

Hearing this, remembering what he'd thought about 
before -- breastfeeding -- he couldn't resist any 
longer. Carefully, he opened his lips, and let her 
nipple enter his mouth. Then he waited to see what she 
would do.

"Oh, the baby is hungry, is he?" Instead of getting 
angry or pushing him away, she gripped his head and 
pulled it even closer. He took this as his cue to take 
even more of her nipple, her sweet soft tit into his 
mouth and begin suckling it, licking it, kissing it. 
This is it, he thought. This is heaven. I don't 
remember when I died, but I must have.

Meanwhile, his throbbing cock, which had been poking 
straight out in the air between her long legs, now 
brushed against the inside of her warm thigh, sending a 
jolt of electricity through his body. He wanted, needed 
to touch it -- to stroke it -- so badly. So as he 
hungrily suckled her tits, he slowly reached down to do 
just that.

"No, no, no," she said, slapping his hand lightly a 
split-second before it made contact. "That's Mama 
Gina's job."

Henry's first instinct was to be frustrated. Until he 
realized what she was saying. "Your job?"

"My job, yes," she said, smiling. Then, without any 
warning, she took him by the shoulders and gently 
pushed him against the wall. With her chest still in 
his face, one tit still glistening from his saliva, she 
reached down and gently ran her fingernail along the 
underside of his throbbing member. Again, Henry felt 
something like electricity pass through him. 

It was the first time anybody other than himself or a 
doctor had touched his cock. Next thing he knew, she 
was gripping it lightly, barely touching it with the 
skin of her fingers ... a teasing, tickling sensation 
that made him stand on tippy toes. "Does that feel 
good?" she asked.

"Y-y-yes."

"Good."

She teased his shaft a few more times like this, nearly 
driving him insane, then stopped, and began to shrink. 
Well, not shrink actually, but get shorter. She was 
lowering herself down, getting to her knees. Oh my god, 
Henry thought. She can't be... is she? 

A moment later, there she was, on her knees, peering up 
at him, her tits at the level of his cock. Considering 
this, it didn't seem likely that she'd be able to put 
him in her mouth. Not unless he grew some in the next 
few minutes or unless she had a spine made of rubber.

But this quickly became a moot point. Because the next 
thing she did happened so quickly that it seemed she 
might have had it in mind all along. Putting a hand 
under each tit, she leaned in closer to him and wrapped 
the beautiful globes around his erection like a bun 
around a hotdog, then shook them playfully up and down. 
The sight of it, the thought of it, the feel of it 
drove Henry instantly insane. It was something he had 
fantasized about a thousand times in the past.

Finally, the electricity that had been building up 
could no longer be contained. He was overexcited to the 
point of no return. As his balls began to contract, 
Gina seemed to sense what was about to happen. She 
pulled herself back a bit, then brought one hand up to 
grasp his cock. 

Expertly, she stroked it, milked it. Almost 
immediately, it exploded, the first blast of semen 
shooting out so fast and hard it nearly made a 
splattering sound as it struck her just beneath the 
chin. "Oh yes," she said, grinning widely. "Show Mama 
how much you love her." And so he did.

Henry's body sang with a humming kind of pleasure as 
wave after wave of cum jetted out of him, urged on by 
this beautiful woman's hand. Warm, thick strings of it 
painted her tits and neck -- over and over -- more of 
it than he even realized he had to offer. It seemed as 
if he must have shot out a gallon already by the time 
the orgasm subsided. 

And even then, as the cum dwindled to a trickle, his 
cock continued to spasm quietly. Using his own cum as a 
lubricant, the woman continued to stroke, more gently 
now, concentrating mostly on the tip, the most 
sensitive area. As sensitive as it was now, the 
sensation was overly intense, and sent a shudder 
through his body that culminated in making him laugh. 
Finally, he couldn't take it any more. "N-n-no more," 
he sputtered. "Please. It's too much."

And so the woman stopped, then stood, smiling widely 
like the cat who's just eaten the canary. Henry could 
see his dripping seed spread out all over her chest and 
neck, and thought he may never glimpse a more beautiful 
sight. He wondered what would happen now. The 
possibilities were endless.

Just then, a small voice came from down the hall. 
"Henry?" His heart sank as he realized it was his 
little sister. "Where are you?"

As his eyes met "Mama Gina's", she seemed to anticipate 
the question on his mind. Shrugging, the woman said, "I 
guess she woke up. Perhaps you should let her know you 
are here."

Henry nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show 
through too much. He started toward the door, then 
realized that his pants were still down around his 
ankles and pulled them up and buttoned them. Once at 
the door, he paused to turn back and gaze with longing 
at the tall, dark-skinned, buxom beauty he was leaving 
behind. 

As if to tease him once more, she ran two fingers up 
along one of her tits, scooped up a fair amount of his 
still dripping cum, then licked and sucked the fingers 
clean. Then she winked at him, and shooed him away. 
"Your sister is waiting."

The next time he saw Gina, it was in the kitchen again, 
when she emerged from the bathroom dressed in the robe 
to say goodbye to he and his sister. After some 
prodding, a sleepy Trish thanked her for the cookies, 
and Henry thanked her for finding his sister.

"It is nothing, really," the woman said, a bit slyly. 
"Any time." As she said this last bit, she made full 
and deliberate eye contact with Henry. "Any time at 
all," she said again, then winked.

Encouraged by this, Henry felt his erection begin to 
rise, and decided that now was as good as any time to 
make his escape, fairly certain that she'd just invited 
him back for another round of fun whenever he wanted. 
He and his sister said their final goodbyes, and as 
they disappeared into the night, Henry could feel an 
extra spring in his step.

	*	*	*

The next day, after school, Henry made a point of 
ditching his friends when they all got off the bus. 
They were going downtown to buy some comic books, but 
he claimed to have to do some yard work for his mom. 
They hounded him for being a momma's boy, but let him 
go, and once he knew they couldn't see where he was 
going, he cut down Dogwood Street, just as he had the 
night before. But when he got there, he was instantly 
confused.

He knew where the house was. Or rather, he knew where 
it was supposed to be. But it wasn't. Which is to say, 
there was nothing on the piece of property but a wide 
lawn of green grass. Henry spun around a few times to 
get his bearings. Maybe he was wrong? But the more he 
looked around, the more sure he became that he was 
looking in the right spot. But... how was that 
possible?

He spotted a middle-aged man raking leaves on the other 
side of the bushes he and his sister had ducked through 
the night before, and started down the sidewalk toward 
him. "Excuse me," he said.

"Yes?" The man lowered his rake to his side.

"Um... this might sound like a stupid question. But 
didn't there used to be a house here?"

The man looked over his shoulder at his own house. 
"There still is. Right there."

"No, I mean... where this yard is. Another house, right 
next to yours."

"Next to mine?" He shook his head. "Nope. Well... not 
for a long time anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there used to be a house on this lot. A big one. 
But that was a long time ago. Before you were ever 
born. It burned down to the ground back in the forties. 
The whole family died, I think. My father bought up the 
lot for almost nothing, and it's been the way you see 
it ever since."

"Oh," Henry said, a persistent chill running up and 
down his spine.

"It was a shame too," the old man went on. "They were 
nice people as I remember. I was only a boy at the 
time. Italian or Greek, I think they were. They had 
money for some reason, when nobody else did. My friends 
and I always got the impression it was dirty money. 
Like maybe they were the children of gangsters or 
something."

"Oh," Henry said again. "Um... what do you remember 
about the people who lived here?"

"Well, I don't remember much about the father. He got 
sent off to Japan during The War and never came back. 
The mother, though, she was hard to forget. Very 
beautiful. Dark hair, tall, dark skin." A wistful 
expression passed over the man's face. "She was ... 
quite a woman. And nobody's victim either. Even with a 
dead husband and all that money, she always helped out 
where she could. She babysat half the kids in the 
neighborhood at one point."

"Do you... happen to remember what her name was by any 
chance?"

"Her name?" The man scratched the back of his sweaty 
neck. "Hm. Not sure I do."

"Was it Gina maybe?" Henry asked.

"You know, that sounds right. She babysat us a few 
times, and I can remember now, she used to make us all 
call her Mama Gina." The man chuckled. "Yeah, that was 
it. Mama Gina." He sighed. "Quite a woman, she was."

"Well... thank you," Henry said, and started to walk 
away, his mind buzzing.

"Hey, how did you know what her name was?" the man 
asked.

"I... um... somebody just told me a story about her 
once."

The man nodded. "I'd love to hear that story someday. 
She was--"

"I know," Henry said. "She was quite a woman."

Boy, did he know. He wasn't sure how exactly it was 
possible that he should know... but he did.

Just like he knew that the phrase "Trick or Treat" 
would never have the same meaning again.

FINI

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 25