Message-ID: <52984asstr$1138795823@assm.asstr.org>
From: RussellMagill@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} Trick or Treat {Rusty Magill}(M?/F)
Lines: 182
Date: Wed, 01 Feb 2006 07:10:23 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Trick or Treat {Rusty Magill}(M?/F)
It was a dark and rainy night.  Nah.  That isn't the way the story went.  It 
was a cold and windy autumny night.  Leaves were swirling in dust devils, 
crackling to the ground.  The neighborhood filled with  ghosts, and witches and 
scarecrows adorning houses and lawns.  All along the streets goblins and 
assorted costumed kids were running and yelling.
The young honeyhaired woman stepped out of her SUV.  Grabbing an armful of 
bags she strode across the lawn to the front door.  The security light kicks on 
and illuminates the house and front yard.  Fumbling for her keys, bags fall to 
the porch.  Opening the door, she grabs the bags and deposits them on the 
dining room table.  
A shiver and goosebumps raise on her arms.  Should have worn the coat instead 
of carrying it on the arm.  Another load of plastic bags fills her arms.  
Looking down the street, she sees a dog costume; but so realistic.  A giant 
mastiff.  All sorts of scary beings and professions are represented by the myriad 
of kids and adults.
Tit tatting across the driveway and walkway, her heels clicking, loudly in 
the night.  Another load of bags deposited on the table and a sigh of relief.  
The stress of work, forgotten for the moment, as the woman grabs a large bowl 
from the kitchen and deposits bag after bag of candy in the bowl.  Brrrring.  
The doorbell.  A ballerina and Darth Vadar, her first two customers.  
Quickly running up the stairs, shoes clicking across the natural wood floors 
and steps, the woman kicks her shoes to a corner.   Unbuttoning her blouse it 
falls to the carpeted bedroom floor.  Next her skirt puddles around her feet.  
Sitting back on the bed, a sigh, as she rolls her pantyhose down and off her 
legs.  Standing, she stretches and enjoys the freedom of unhibited flesh.  
Just a coral bra and thong her only clothing.  Brrring.  Again the doorbell.  
Pulling a Jets sweatshirt from a drawer, over her head.  And then a non-descript 
grey sweatpants and slippers and down the stairs.  Brrring.  Customers 
impatient as she opens the door to deposited goodies to the hobgoblins.
Turning the lights inside out, candles the only illumination, and the music 
of Godsmack, setting the holiday decor.  A hot cup of chocolate, takes away the 
chill, as feet tucked underneath, she enjoys the freedom of work being over.  
Again and again the doorbell rings, with assorted kids and parents in costume.
At 9, she turns off the outside light.  Trice she has filled the bowl with 
candies.  It was a good night.  The pumkin still sitting in the window, looking 
out on the street.  Eyes and nose and mouth flickering with the candle inside. 
 A sigh or relief that now she can finally really relax and enjoy the rest of 
the evening.
Metallica now playing on the stereo.  The woman pads up the stairs of her old 
house.  Wide stairwells and large rooms.  Reaching the bedroom, she pulls the 
sweatshirt over her head and deposits it in the pile of work clothes.  
Sweatpants quickly follow.  As her bra joins the pile, her breasts, still firm, even 
though she be in her thirties, sway slightly as she let her thong fall to her 
feet.  The nipples semi-hard with the coolness of the room.  Well toned legs 
compliment the woman.  Just a wisp of pubic hair above the juncture of her 
lips.  Carrying her slippers, she runs to the bathroom.  Turning on light and 
vent, she closes the door.  Turning on the shower, adjusting to warm/hot, the 
blasts of droplets melt the tiredness from the muscles of her back.  A long sigh, 
as she stands the whipping of the spray.  
Turning towards the shower head, the water assails her face and then neck, as 
she adjust the head to her breasts.  Soapy fingers circle the  round globes.  
Then a tingle as the fingers pinch, oh so lightly at the turgid nipples.  
Hardening to her touch, a flash of pleasure and then the fingers trail soap down 
her flat belly.  Fingers twirling the small patch of hair and then rubbing at 
the lips, swelling to the touch.  Fingers now probing the slit, and then legs 
spreading to accomadate the fingers.
Eyes and mouth closed, nostrils flaring to the touch and probing of her 
digets.  Bosum heaving as one hand caresses her teat, while the other massages her 
lower lips, pushing at the hardness of her clit.
Brrrring, brrrring.  The doorbell interupts the pleasurable reverie.  
Distracted, the woman finished soaping and rinsing.  The toweling quick and firm, 
leaves her body flush and warm.  Taking a forest green satin robe, that hangs to 
her knees, she belts it and pads down the stairs.
Metallica is still playing in the background, as the young woman opens the 
liquor cabinet and takes out an unopened bottle of white Zinfandel.  Pulling the 
cork, she pours it into a long stemmed glass and gently swishes it around.  A 
sip and a contented sigh.  Walking over to the couch, she curls up, feet 
underneath and wraps a throw around her lap.  The flilckering candles make 
interesting shapes on the walls and ceiling.  Sort of like the way Xmas lights give 
the room a special glow.  A second glass of wine and she is mellow, eyes 
closing to almost shut, the warmth of the wine seeping deep into her body.
Getting up to make a pee call, she checks the front door and locks it.  The 
room is chilly; but a third glass of wine and she is almost asleep.  The 
relaxation is almost total.  The aromatics of the candles lulling her eyes closed.  
The music a light ballad from Metallica.  Enter Sandman.  It would be so nice 
to not have to go up to bed.  The woman's right hand, cupping her mons, 
lightly stroking at her lips.  The feeling of well being so comforting.  
In the corner by the doorway to the dining room, a shadow.  Then it resolves 
into a giant dog, standing, eyes fixed staring at the woman.  The wine is 
going to my head, she thought, screwing her eyes shut.  Head spinning a little, 
she opened her eyes and the dog still stood observing her.     
Woozy, she sits up.  Focusing on the doorway, nothing there  she slides off 
the couch and stumbles falling flat on the floor.  Raising onto her hands and 
knees, she feels a weight on her back, pushing her head to the floor, arms 
buckling under her.  Warm fur tickles her back and ass cheeks.  Her robe is pushed 
up along her shoulder blades.  She feels the fur along the inside of her 
legs, pushing her legs apart.  Furry arms or paws wrap around her waist, keeping 
her pushed head to the hard wood floor.  Panic is in her numb head and quickly 
beating heart.
Then she feels a prodding member at her inner thighs, and then the something 
pushing at and then between her lips.  Slowly it sinks into her pussy, moist 
from her toying fingers.  She can felt the tickling hairs against her soft 
sensitive tissue of her thighs.  The penis is trobbing in her pussy.  Buried as 
the paws pull her cheeks tight against the warm body.  Now the penis is 
withdrawn and quickly pushed in again.  The thrusting is strong and steady.  Oops.  It 
pulls all the way out and stabs at a lip.  Quickly it pushs deep again into 
her womb.
The woman lays there not knowing what is happening.  Is this a dog, or a man 
or something in between.  The reflex to scream buried deep in her throat.  The 
thing is now pawing at her right breast.  Grasping it and stroking at the 
nipple, swollen and stiff.  The beast is still pumping at her now swollen lips.  
Her pussy is wet, and in spite of herself, her ass is pushing to meet the 
strokes.  Muscles seeking to clamp down on the hard member deep in her vagina.  
The paw that was playing with her breast, is now fumbling at her hard clit.  
Rubbing, the hairy paw, seems almost to be pinching at it.
Panting from the intruder and exhalations from the young woman, and the slap 
of flesh and the exquisite swishing of organs, the only sounds in the room.  
Somewhere Metallica kicked off.  A macabre dance of pleasure, casting shadows 
flickering on walls and ceiling.  The woman head spinning barely notices the 
quickening of the strokes as the beast empties seed into her moist grotto.  
Still on her knees head to floor, thw woman thrusts her body back to meet the 
slowing thrusts.
She can feel the wet lips of the beast on her back, head resting, body still 
tight to hers.  Sliding one hand back, she feels the softening penis.  It 
feels like a mans; but what does the penis of a dog feel like.  Hot with need, the 
woman strokes at the wilting flesh.  Pulling and stroking, it starts to 
stiffen and elongate again.  What am I doing, the clouded mind of the girl thinks.  
As it is now again hard and ready, her fingering tickling the head of the 
organ, the furry body pulls back and then pushes into her moist pussy.  Legs are 
now cramping from the unnatural position, but the penis stroking in and out 
brings muscles to grasp at the member.  
A long stroke out and the member is free, pushing back quickly, it rams up 
and pushes at the small ring of the woman's ass.  The need to find a hole, adds 
momentum to the pushing and the young woman, moans as the head pushs into her 
ass.  Inch by slow inch it is swallowed till the balls are slapping against 
her pussy lips.  A whimper and then a rhythm of strokes pound into the 
accomdating hole.  The woman now moaning with the need for release and the pleasure of 
the filled orifice.  The ring tightens on the invading flesh and squeezes at 
the sausage of meat.  OHHHHHHH.  Lips relase a long cry of pleasure.  Spasm 
after spasm as the woman comes, rubbery legs ready to collapse if not for the 
steadying paw.  
Unconcious the woman slowly rolls over to lie on her side on the floor.  
Unmoving.  The beast pads out to the kitchen and in a corner by the sink, cleans 
his organ.  At last satisfied, he pads by to the woman lying on her side, and 
with a paw rolls her over onto her back.  Pushing her legs apart, his long 
tongue, rolls out and licks at her slack lips.  The taste of cum and pussy juice 
strong.  As he laps at her pussy, pushing his tongue deeply into her hole, his 
penis elongates.  Her legs move slightly to the lapping and sucking mouth.  
Looking quizzically at the young woman, the beast seems at a loss.  Cock 
sticking out of the mat of hair, he gazes at the woman, then padding around to where 
her head is, he pushs his cock against her lips.   Not an easy position.  
Parting the lips, the penis slides into her wet mouth.  Leaning over his tongue 
again licks and sucks at her pussy and then her clit.  
The woman's lips close around the cock.  Tongue and mouth suck at the slick 
organ.  Slurping and licking the only sounds.  The woman's thighs clenching at 
the mouth paying homage to her pussy.  Raising her thighs, they close on the 
animal head, holding it to her mons.  Her lips sucking at the swollen penis,  
tongue licking at the raised vein in the cock.   The organ thickened and then a 
spurt of juice fills the womans mouth.  A couple of coughs and then she 
swallows the fluids.  Arms still lying at her sides, her thighs squeeze at the 
furry head, as her pussy convulves.  Legs slowly relax and fall slack to the sides.
The woman, still unaware of her surrounding, is cleaned of fluids by the 
beast.  Gently, he settles her on the floor, pulling the throw over her body.  A 
lick across her lips and he disappears into the night.

Head throbbing, in the morning, the woman wakes to find herself lying on the 
floor.  A single candle still flickering.  It is still dark outside.  Laying 
still, trying to remember, and then a flash of memory.  A dog, big and furry.  
"Oh my god", did I have sex with a dog?  Where are my dreams taking me?  Was 
it real or just a dream brought on by too much alcohol?  There are pains all 
over my body.  Are they from falling off the sofa and rolling or was I 
assaulted?  My ass and pussy feel like they were used.  There is a pain in my back.  
Rolling over she finds the lifelike vibrator that sometimes brings relief.  That 
might explain the areas of pain and use.
Work was a thing missed this day, as the young woman called in sick.  The 
morning was just a steady headache.  The pains receded with rest and aspirin.
Brrring.  The damn doorbell.  It was only Rusty, her beau.  Oh.  I'm fixing 
dinner tonight for his birthday.  Going down to the basement, Rusty got a 
package and took it to his truck.  Looked like a dead animal with the fur sticking 
out!!!!!
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