Page 8 of Bump in the Night
Elliot
I’m watching John and Pumpkin peruse the seasonal aisle in the drug store for the last remnants of costumes that have been picked over, but notpurchased.
“I’ve never been to a real college party before!” Pumpkin says, holding up a pair of cat ears. She puts them on and models them for us with a little meow and a few air-scratches.
“No,” I say. “I don’t likethose.”
They’re too suggestive. Her purring and meowing like a helpless little kitten is… It’s not something I can have anyone else see. Anyone besides me and John, that is. If it were up to me, I’d have her never take the fucking things off. I want Pumpkin crawling toward me and John on her hands and knees – in just the ears and a little kitty-cat collar with a heart-shaped, diamond-encrusted tag with John and my names onit.
Property.Of.
“You’re right,” she replies as she puts them back, “not sexyenough.”
I catch a groan in my mouth and swallowit.
“How about this?” I spot a big swatch of white cloth hanging lop-sided from an old metal hanger. I play off my eagerness to keep her covered as an eagerness for her to have an authentic, legit costume. I don’t even know if this is supposed to be a costume. Is it a beach cover-up? Doesn’t matter what itis.
“A ghost. You’re gonna go old school on this one, trust me – this is the look youwant.”
I pluck the hanger from the display and hold it up toher.
“Fantastic,” John says, grabbing it from me and pressing it to Pumpkin’s curves. “Why not pair it with a scary mask while you’re atit?”
I don’t like when he gets sarcastic with me, especially not on matters that concern ourPumpkin.
“That sounds like a fine idea to me,” I say, with my eyes trained on his, reaching out with my fist to grab the nearest mask. I hold it up to cover her face and she rotates an impatient toe out to begin tappingit.
“Do I get a say?” she says, poking her head out from around the mask. It’s a mask of a recent political figure. A chill goes through my bones. Nice and scary. Perfect. Keep everyone the hell away fromher.
“Look,” Pumpkin continues, diving into the bottom of the ghost-cloak and shimmying her body into it, “no need for a mask. This is a completelook.”
She fixes the hood of frayed fabric and lace around her face. I don’t like this either. Her big blue eyes are shining and her thick, kissable and – as much as I try not to think about it every damn second –fuckablepuffy pink lips are fully on display, even though her body is a shapeless lump. The cascade of blonde hair spilling out around her shoulders is like an angel’s. The garment comes just to her knees and is frayed at the hem. On a taller woman, it would be shorter. She’ll want to remove her jeans – I know it, and I hope I don’t catch anyone looking at her legs. There’s just no damn hiding what this girl’sgot.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. John laughs and tugs the cloth over her shoulders to help her out ofit.
“I still want the cat ears instead,” she says, plucking them from the shelf and smiling at me. “They’repurr-fect.”
When she walks past me, I breathe her in. Fresh lemon and vanilla. She makes imperfection seem like a total, absolute, logical impossibility. Her perfect scent makes me hard as a fucking diamond. Every time I’m in the shower her scent fills my head. I don’t know what it is about having the hot water pound down on me, but every time I wash away the day – the dirt, the grime of the city, the stench of cigarettes from the smokers I’m always around – the smell of home is the smell of her. And when I breathe her in and pick up her scent, I feel the tip of my cock leak and bubble and choke inside mypants.
I’ve been hard all night – hard every time I’m near her – but this… This is different. This isallof my senses lighting up, all atonce.
“I’ll meet you by the register,” she says, clutching her costume, turning into the next aisle. I look up at the sign noting what aisle this is. Feminine products. Her gaze sees where I’m looking, and she blushes. “Now, go on, don’t embarrassme.”
She shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’d be happy to buy her pads, tampons, gallons of ice cream, hot packs, ice packs – whatever sheneeds.
I turn and start to follow John to the front of the store. I look back and see Pumpkin taking something off a high shelf and stashing it under her costume. When she starts to scurry back to us, I turn around and keep myselfmoving.
Moments later, Pumpkin drops her items on the counter and the bored check-out clerk starts ringing herup.
“We should probably get some candy, too,” Pumpkin says, turning her back to the checkout. “You don’t want to show up to a party empty-handed. Would you mind grabbing a couple bagsplease?”
“Chocolate candy mix? Or sugar candy assortment?” I ask John as we get to the candyaisle.
“Whatever,man.”
Pumpkin is sweet enough to eat. I know her mouth would taste like heaven. The delicate skin of her pretty, long neck? I know it would taste like pure, raw sugar. Her nipples? They’d taste like the juicy insides of a ripe strawberry. I feel my cock twitch as I wrap my fist around a big bag of candycorn.
I’ve dreamed about her nipples. I know they’re little – I just know they are. I like all kinds, but I know her big tits are adorned with crown jewels of little, puckered pink treasures. My mouth waters at the thought. But the thing I really want to taste is her little clit. I want to know how she touches herself and then do the opposite to her with my tongue. I want to make her feel how she’s never been able to make herself feel before. I know me and John would be able to turn her inside out, nice and good – make hercrazy.
At my side, he glances past me at Pumpkin, who’s thrilled with her jailbreak and smiling from ear to ear, completely oblivious to the dirty thoughts John and I arehaving.
Lord, please – just get me through this fuckingnight.
And, after tonight, we won’t wait any longer. We’re going in for the kill. It’s time we made Pumpkin ours, once and for all. Fuck the consequences. Fuck what people will say. She was made for us – and we aren’t going to play this fucking game anylonger.
We aren’t just her protectors. We aren’t just her dad’s friends. We’re her men – and we intend to show her exactly what thatmeans.
