Well, well, well. Hello, there, and a happy, belated Halloween to all of you. Hope your treats were sweet and your tricks… Oh, so, sticky.
What an evening! What a day! It’s, absolutely, the only holiday I know of, when anyone and everyone has the ability and opportunity to do all sorts of CRAZY, AZZ SHIT, have a shitload of fun, all the while, free from guilt, judgement or shame. HALLOWEEN ROCKS, PEEPS!!
We can role-play any person we’ve ever known of, past or present, real or imagined. All, without, even, a single person finding it necessary to question the motives behind our final dress decision.
We could walk into a party sportin, just, a long, black, tail and these skinny, little whiskers drawn with a black Sharpie, thrice, along each cheek (meow), and, absolutely, NOTHING, FUCKIN, ELSE, and, still, be in the running for sexiest costume, rather than the sluttiest.
I almost forgot! You can frighten the shit out of WHOEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT on Halloween! Anybody at all! Just for fun! A chuckle to be shared amongst you and your buddies repeatedly throughout the years. Recited time and time, again, at parties, weddings, and reunions to lots of uproarious fun.
No doubt, on any OTHER day of the year, I’m sure such a thing could, still, be able to illicit a few half-hearted snickers, here and there. You know, just a few non-holiday laughes, that are, all too quickly, forgotten once the laughter has died down.
Shit! Just imagine that face. The distinct features, spontaneously, becoming panicked, and, suddenly, contorting in fear. Hold up. Now, draw a little face paint on him. Maybe, picture him wearing a cap or cape of monstrous size.
See him, now? Yup. Goofy lookin, huh? Lol. Only on Halloween, my dear friends. Only on THAT ONE SPECIAL DAY could such a similiar situation produce such an extremely different response.
Only All Hallow’s Eve, this fella you had, only moments before, made the “butt” of your spooky inspired joke, would, probably, just fall right in along with the rest of you lil scoundrels, laughing, far louder and much, more, hysterically. Even, just a bit, too insanely at such a ridiculous prank. Yea. That kinda shit is definitely a guy thang, for sure.
Then, finally… FINALLY! After dressin, walkin, and beggin, close to an hour and a half, it all, finally, culminates in… Well, just, the most euphoric high. I’m talkin, the most epic proportions of energy and enthusiasm, delivered to me, directly, by the tiniest of hands.
Oh, cum on! I’m talkin bout candy! OF COURSE, I’m talkin bout candy. Bout that sugar! I’m talkin bout sucrose, dextrose, and high-fructose corn syrup… Molded expertly into some of the strangest shapes and sizes imaginable, and ranging in a multitude of colors. It’s like a beacon to children of all ages. Even, mine. Damnit. Even, me.
This Halloween I planned on doing a little visiting. After walking with my daughter, her five siblings, and my bestie (her other mother) for, somewhere around an hour and a half in my lowest of heels and my “Little Red Riding Hoe” costume (minus the hoe)… Shit! I was beat!
Suddenly, there cums a great stampede through the screen door. Lil feet are hastening, skipping, suddenly, flat-out, RACING hurriedly in my direction. Each small person, absolutely, intent on being the very, first to offer me a grab inside their own goodie bag!
Then, gleaming back at the runners up with the most intense pride, as I shower down my lovin and huggin, and squeezing all over them, for all to witness. Shit. It’s what I love most about Halloween!
Those youngins love me. They do! Halloween, or any other holiday. In the past decade, they were the only reason I still celebrated the working holiday at all.
Damnit. Okay, truth is, by the time the day rolls around for festive, dress-up, fun, each and every one of them (including the wee, wittle, one year old) are all, quite, aware that X-mas is, just, around the corner and sneaking up pretty, fuckin fast.
Of course, Eh. I suppose that could be, in some part, due to my, repetitively, reminding them of that, ever, thinning gap in holidays, just, yet to cum. You damn right! I do this EVERY SINGLE TIME I visit. I told ya. HALLOWEEN KICKS AZZ! It is the beginning of my Christmas fun, if you can believe it. Lol.
What? Y’all don’t do that? Shit! Then y’all are missin one, of, only, two days out of each year, where children (any children) most, closely resemble… The sweetest, most thoughtful, most beautifully behaved lil angels, ever to walk this Earth.
I tell ya! Try it sometime. Talk about sugary sweet! Ooh-ee! That is, until the unfortunate time arrives, once again, for me to return to my own home. (God only knows, how them lil hoodlums act after I’ve left! Lol. I can only imagine. Argh!)
I guess, the short of it is, I’m talkin bout ALL THINGS SWEET! Look, every now and then, even, I get a bit of a sweet tooth. Sure, it doesn’t, really, happen that often, and it, certainly, doesn’t ever last for very long.
Still, I try to keep some candy corn, jolly ranchers, sometimes, even, a few dum-dums hidden somewhere nearby, always, around my home. You know. JUST IN CASE. Okay. Perhaps, that’s not, quite, 100% truthful.
The truth is, sometimes, I find myself hunting all over, finding nothing. Suddenly, I’ve located a single, most likely, stale, breath mint, loose, at the bottom of my purse. With a quick flip, my hand becomes a unweilding claw, scraping steadily within, then, miraculously, pulling the unwrapped candy piece, from the deepest regions inside.
Oh, cum on, people! IT WAS A LUDENS, for God’s sake! Look, Ludens Throat Lozenges are so, fuckin amazin that they remain preserved awaiting a single breath, hot and hard, and a simple swipe of my sleave… VOILA! Good as new! (Dude, those things are CRAZY DELICIOUS! Wish someone gave THEM out at Halloween.)
Recently, I discovered a whole, new, way to cure my candy-coated craving WITHOUT acquiring, even, a single toothache or cavity! Talk about fantasy fulfillment! Talk about the sweetest ecstasy! OMG!
I’m talkin, far, far, too much like an elegant pastry, flush to the brim with fresh fruit and cream cheese, almond slivers, and drowned in hot, gooey, white chocolate. The first taste, leaves you, immediately and hopelessy addicited. Now, could a dessert such as this just be titled “sugar snack”. God, no! There’s just no comparison.
The dark, rich, full- flavored fella I am, now, referring to could, never, don such a simple tag. No way! This gentleman was quite the delicacy.
Actually, I can think of no better comparison than the thickest of thick, that dense, syruppy goodness of, only, the purest of honey! Oh, so, natural, so very needed, and, an ABSOLUTE NECESSITY in my life. AND, the life of my lil Greedy!
He wasted no time. I mean, it was only moments later. I had opened the door of my home, welcoming this handsome, new stranger inside with a hug, a kiss, and flirty little wink.
Suddenly, I find myself jerking spastically above him, my Greedy’s nether lips were kissed and licked and nibbled. Then, forced wide by his own full set of lips and the curiousity of his thick, wet tongue. Hey, he asked me to sit on his face.
Shit! I was so gone with passion at that very moment that I could have just made that all up. Maybe it was all my idea. I, seriously, have NO CLUE how I ended up there, but, I, certainly, didn’t object.
He placed me above his hungry mouth… So, I fed the fucker. In fact, there were two very distinct moments that I’ll never forget. In both instances, I came so hard that I, practically, forget where the hell I was. One look down, and reality hit me hard, bringing with it, a wee bit of guilt.
I had killed him! I mean, he HAD to be dead. My first orgasm hit super hard, causing both of my hands to flail out, instinctively, as I was thrown from my stride and forced forward, mid-“OOOOOO”, just barely catching myself on the cool glass of the mirror next to my bed.
As my awareness, slowly, returned, suddenly, I became concerned. Well, there I was (a petite lil thing, by no means)… Rockin and resting, then rockin, and resting, momentarily, again. My weight being distributed consistently all over his skull, as I grinded up and down the coarse hair and features of his face, furiously.
Shit! My concern for his welfare melted swiftly and easily enough away, the very moment I felt his long, hot, tongue, delve unabashadly and fearlessly into the depthes of my channel hidden behind my delicate pussy lips. My feverish flesh within erupted like a volcano, more aggressive and blind in it’s search for another deliciously, ecstatic moment of bliss.
WHAT A TONGUE! WHAT A FACE! WHAT A DEVIL OF A GENTLEMAN!!
If, ever, a contest were to be held in the competition of pussy lovin and lickin, Sir Sugar Daty would have every judge blushing and crying out in vain, just as I did several times on that, our first date. Believe me, this handsome gentleman, ABSOLUTELY, LOVES to eat pussy, and IT, CERTAINLY, SHOWS.
I am humbled, even now, just, remembering those stolen moments perched above his masculine features, only moments before falling, clumsily forward, and catching myself, once again, against the mirror on my wall.
The skill of his silky tongue, had taken me by great surprise. This knowledge hit me hard and quick, causing the, usually, passionate and assured movements of my body to spasm most uncontrollably, startlingly me shitless.
This man was much, more potent that any trick or treat I’d ever received. The simplest flick of his lips, his tongue, even, just, the crinkling up of his nose along the delicate flesh between my legs… Suddenly, I was thrust, headfirst, into a most full and orgasmic stutter, ending in long wailing cries and a few unconscious thrusting of weakening limbs.
I had just overdosed on the sticky, sweet, full-bodied orgasms that responded so willingly to all of his own freakish desires. If I’m to be completely honest, I’d have to say that it’s possible… Wait, actually, it’s probable…
FUCK! The truth is, in about an hour, I’d become helplessly ADDICTED to the thick, rich, goodness of Daty, the man.
That sticky and, oh, so sweet, full body, orgasmic stutter and jerk, produced so quickly and easily with each skilled flick of his slightly rough, curious, and roving tongue, only, reinforced the weakness of my will and proved, loud and clear, that I still have a very addictive personality. Just a taste of his delicous candy, and I was, downright, hooked.
FYI: Someone who carries a name with as much presumption as “Masterhead” or “Sugar Daty”… Well, let’s just say, you’d do much better to just believe it. It takes a whole lotta confidence to wear such a descriptive name. Without the anonimity afforded by a simple mask or, just a bit face paint allowed only that one special day every year, all in the hopes of acquiring the sweetest of treats from strangers.
Besides, you gotta be tough to carry those titles. Trust me. It’s like wearing a challenge every single day of your life. God! I do, so, love a challenge!
Sweet Treats for ALL My Friends! Love y’all! See ya next slut day!
Oh, and thank you, Sugar Daty. The memories of our tryst, certainly, helped to curb the sweet tooth that was plaguing me that day. Unfortunately, it’s kinda common knowledge that my memory isn’t always so good. Just saying. Better not stay away too long. I might forget how amazing that shit really was.
Naaaaahhhhhh!!!! Sit on ya, soon!