Halloween Hijinks


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Halloween, the classic children’s holiday. Candy, costumes, decorations. All of that.

I personally never liked Halloween, for no particular reason, just the idea of dressing up as Frankenstein’s monster, or Clint Eastwood. Going house to house, asking random-ass people I’ve never met for candy from a huge bowl. I never liked much of it, but I did enjoy the sugar rush after eating my weight in candy within 45 minutes of coming back home from asking strangers for candy.

When I turned 18 in April, I decided for good that I would no longer ask people for candy. No more! Done.

The End of my story!

No, but really, I abhor Halloween.

I just moved in to my apartment a couple months ago. I was promoted at work, and after crunching some numbers, I realized I would finally be able to move out of my parents house. I eventually found a place, a quiet one. My neighbors are quiet, but unfortunately, of course, they go all out with Halloween. I’ve seen some decorations at some home renovation stores, and I got to say, they charge those decorations up about three times. On a fixed income, living paycheck to paycheck, you can bet I won’t be spending my hard earned dollars on some spider webs and an inflatable.

The neighbor to the right of my apartment room, however, has a fake little spider thumb-tacked to her door. I’ve been meaning to talk to her, because from what little I’ve seen of her face, she’s a specimen.


I walk out my front door at about 9:30, to go for a jog to help keep in shape. As soon as I shut my door, I hear the door of the girl I’ve been meaning to talk to. She steps out, and shuts the door, then looks at me with a small hint of surprise. She smiles.

“Hi!” She says in a friendly tone. She is pretty, just as I thought. A pretty face, slightly wavy dishwater colored brunette hair, that goes down to mid back. Her green eyes look happy and wide. I look down her white shirt, then at her legs, which are open for display thanks to her short pink jogging shorts. Her shoes, a pure white pair of jogging shoes. I look quickly back up to her face.

“Hello, good morning.” I say with a grin, and we shake hands.

“I’m Caitlyn.” She says with a cute tone.

“Beautiful name. I’m Rant.” I say complimenting her. She blushes lightly, and grins again.

“Rant? I haven’t heard that name before.” She says.

“It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just something my parents though was cool when they were in their thirties, a hundred years ago.” I say looking up to the sky. I look down to see her giggle, and try to hide it with a small fist. Her giggle, I love it.

“I love your giggle.” I say with confidence. I skim over her toned body, and beautiful legs.

“Thanks.” She blushes.

“I’m sorry, but may I ask how old you are?” I don’t usually ask girls that question, but better safe than sorry.

“I’m eighteen, my birthday was in May.” She says looking down at her shoes.

We sit in silence for a couple seconds, until she speaks.

“Listen, I was just going for a Saturday jog, the mornings nice, would you like to come with me, Rant?” She asks. I look at her face.

“Sounds good.” I say to her. We walk down the stairs to the pavement, and we start our jog down the sidewalk. I’m not a gym person, but I’ve kept in good shape with push ups, sit ups and occasionally my dads bench press. I’ve kept my stomach looking good, and my chest good. My arms are always proud. Like I said, my muscles aren’t the biggest, but I’ve gotten myself toned over a couple of years. My black flat bill hat is turned backwards, because I didn’t want to do my hair this morning. Already planning a jog this morning, I already have my jogging stuff on. Her ponytail sways left and right across her back while she jogs just a few feet ahead of me. I momentarily pick up my speed to get to her side.

“Do you play any sports?” I ask her, my voice moving up and down with my steps. She looks at me.

“I did in high school, but I just graduated and moved into that apartment. I played softball.”

She says holding up her hand like she was holding a ball.

“And you?” She asks.

“I was a safety all four years.” I say, noticing she is now getting a little tired.

“What’s that?” She asks panting. I look at her.

“It’s defense. I, along with another, were combined to be the last line of defense, the fastest guys on the team. Me and him.” I say, slowing my jog to match her tiring strides.

“Fastest huh?” She asks with a grin. “To the white line.” She yells.

Before I can respond, she takes off in a full blown sprint. The white line she chases, is a mere eighty yards away. I grin.

“Oh it’s on!” I yell, and my safety instincts kick into overdrive, and I bolt at record speed to catch in her no time, and to tease her, I match her stride for stride, and she smiles. Then when the line is about twenty yards away, I sprint full speed, whizzing past her, my legs almost turning into wheels. I stir up leaves in the path, and I concentrate on balçova escort the yellow, red and orange memorabilia of fall. I shut my eyes. The air cool and calming in my lungs. Just as I feel as though I’m ready to stop sprinting, I hear a sound behind me, and I open my eyes and turn, and I stop on a dime. I see Caitlyn laying face down on the concrete, leaves falling around her. I yank my body in her direction, and I sprint to her. I stop just to her right side.

“Shit are you okay?” I ask. She opens her eyes to look at me, and through her eyes, I immediately recognize pain. She reaches down and points at her ankle. My heart skips as I think she broke her ankle, and guilt rushes over me. I bend down by her right ankle, and I look at her.

“Is it broke?” I ask.

“I don’t think so, my foot landed in a hole and I twisted it, but it really hurts.” She says in a long grunt. I gently pick up her ankle with my right hand. “Can I take the shoe off?” I ask.

“Please.” She says. I untie the pink and white shoe, and I pull it off her heel. I set the shoe down, and I hold her ankle between my hands.

“It’s not broke, but it is already swollen.” I say. I look at her, still holding her ankle. “Let’s get you back to my place, I’ve got Gatorade, and more importantly, ice packs.” I say.

She chuckles quietly. “How am I gonna walk there?” She asks. I think for a moment. I reach my hand out to help her up, and she accepts, grabbing my right hand with her left. I pull her up, and she stands on the left foot, but keeps the right up. I grab the shoe and hand it to her. I reach under her, and I pick her up. I sweep her into my arms like a man does to his newly wedded wife. She settles in my arms, thankfully she’s not heavy. She wraps her arms around the back of my neck, and she looks up at me. I start jogging back to my apartment.


I gently set the ice pack down on her ankle. She leans back on my couch with relief. She keeps her bare foot up on the coffee table. I stand up.

“Gatorade?” I ask. She opens her eyes to look at me.

“Yes please.” She says, sticking her tongue out a little, as if she was parched.

I turn around and walk into the kitchen, and I open the fridge to grab the Gatorades. I turn around and set them on the counter. I peer through the opening built into the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room. Straight ahead, sits Caitlyn. Her eyes closed. I stare at her pale sole, scrunched slightly from her heel resting in the coffee table. I don’t notice her eyes open until its too late. I catch her eyes, and she catches mine.

I turn back to the counter to act like I’m doing something. My heart skips when she speaks.

“What were you looking at?” She asks. I look up, and I notice she’s grinning.

“The coffee table. I thought it had scratch marks.” I come up with.

“I don’t know.” She says. “It kinda looked like-…”

“It doesn’t matter what it looked like.” I say, cutting her off. She grins again, and cocks her head. I walk into the living room, and I sit down beside her. She turns her head to look at me. She speaks.

“So uh, whats wrong with the coffee table?” She asks, wiggling her painted toes. Their painted in celebration of Halloween. Her big toe is painted orange, then her second toe painted black, and it continues that pattern.

“Um, I thought I saw a scratch.” I say. She smiles.

“You were looking at my foot.” She says with a grin.

I jump to my defense.

“No, I wasn’t.” I say, shaking my head.

“Yes, you were.” She says with another grin.

She shifts her body to face mine.

“Do you have a foot fetish?” She asks, and she makes my heart skip.

I move my body uncomfortably. I glance at her, then I awkwardly look around the room. I almost want to fake a heart attack to get out of this situation. I take a drink of my Gatorade.

“Listen, it’s okay. I’ve got a foot fetish too.” She says, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I cough violently. Her saying that made me choke.

Now I really do think I’m gonna have a heart attack.

“What…?” I say in between coughs.

She waits until I’ve coughed my lungs up before she speaks.

“Yeah. I think feet are sexy. But, only girls feet, ya know?”

I look at her face, which still has a grin on it.

“Well, I’d have to agree. Some dudes walk around with their toenails lookin’ like Frito Lays Scoops.”

She laughs. Her laugh is alluring, much like her eyes. Her laugh is perfect. Damn, everything about her is…perfect.

“You’re right.” She says.

We sit for a couple minutes, drinking our Gatorade’s. Finally, Caitlyn breaks the silence.

“Rant. I’m going to a Halloween party on Halloween, which is Friday, and I was hoping you’d come with me. My friends would love you.”

I think for a moment.

“I don’t know. I’m really not much of a fan of Halloween.” I say, standing up.

“Well, I would have gone with Colin, but we split a few weeks ago.” She says sadly.

She’s single?! FUCK YES!

“Oh I’m so sorry.” I say.

“It’s bayındır escort good. He was a D-bag.” She says standing up.

“What is today?” I ask. She looks at her smart watch.

“Wednesday.” She says quickly.

I sit for a moment.

“Fine.” I say. She smiles.

“Yay! You’ll love it.” She says.

I doubt it.

“Friday evening, at six o’clock sharp, I’ll knock on your door, and you better be ready, cuz I will be.” She says, while looking down at her ankle. I toss her the shoe, sock inside.

“Can I see your phone?” She asks. I look at her, standing up.

“I guess. What for?” I ask, reaching into my pocket. I hand the phone to her.

“I’m gonna give you my phone number, so we can talk.” She says, tapping on the screen. I look down at her festive painted toes, wondering what they’d feel like wrapped around my cock. I look up and catch her eyes. She holds my phone out to hand it to me, and she grins.

“You really like my feet, huh?” She asks. I grab my phone.

“Apparently, you know what its like.” I say, setting my phone on the table. She giggles.

“Yep, I do. That’s why I can’t be mad.” She says, turning around towards the door. I walk with her, and open the door for her. She grins.

“Thanks. Take care.” She says, limping out the door. I shut it behind her.

I turn around, take in a breath, and punch the air in celebration.

“What a specimen.” I say.



I trudge into my kitchen, rubbing my eye with my knuckle because my contact is fucking with me. I grab a protein shake from the fridge. Gym time.

As I lock my door, Caitlyn’s door opens, and out comes the beauty herself. She smiles big when she sees me. She waves. I wave back.

“Good morning.” I say, stuffing my keys into my pocket.

“Morning to you too, Rant.” She says happily. She looks down at the doorknob to mess with her keys. Her hair is down, laying peacefully on her white shirt. My eyes climb down her down blue jeans, all the down to her shoes. I’m greeted by a pair of strappy orange sandals. She turns towards me, and I notice one sandal is orange, and the other is black. Hot.

I look up to catch her eyes.

“You like?” She asks, looking down at her shoes.

“Yeah. Festive.” I say back.

She looks up and starts to walk. I follow. Before she gets to the stairs, I ask a question that I had previously forgotten to ask.

“Caitlyn?” I ask. She keeps walking.

“Call me Cait.” She answers.

“Okay, Cait. I have a question.” I say. She stops walking and turns towards me.

“What’s up?” She asks. I hesitate, but I ask anyway.

“What size shoe do you wear?” I ask.

She thinks or a long moment, then grins.

“Seven. AND… I just bought a black pair of sandals to go with my costume.” She boasts.

“I was just wondering.” I say.

We start walking together towards the parking lot.

“It’s okay. I wonder a lot too.” She says poking me with her elbow. I look at her, and she winks.

We get to her car; an old, 1999 Durango. A piece of shit car.

“Wow. You got yourself a real prize, huh?” I ask. She chuckles.

“Yep. My dad gave me this turd. A friend of his had it in his junkyard for over a decade.” She says, kicking the tire.

“How much did he pay for it?” I ask.

“200 dollars.” She says laughing.

“Damn!” I say.

“Anyway, I need to get to work, I’ll see ya.” Caitlyn says, opening the rusty door.


Later that Night

Just as I’m starting to doze off, my phone vibrates on the rosewood table beside me. It almost startles me. I prop myself up on my elbow. I lean in, and grab the phone with my left hand. I pull it to my chest, and an unread message comes up. I unlock my phone, and my phone tells me I have a text from Caitlyn. I click on it.

-11:01 PM-


U up?


Yea what’s up?


What is it about feet that you like?


Well its a mix of things, smell, taste, look, feel.


Feel? Like, in your hand, or wrapped around ur dick?


Both, actually.


Do u like the way I painted my toes?


Yeah, its honestly sexy. Are you gonna wear those sandals that u wore today to the party?



Yeah, and I think you’ll like my costume.


I bet I will.

I set the phone down, and I lay my head down. Her beautiful feet fly around in my mind. Those painted toes, smooth feet. For real, I think she’s got the smoothest looking feet I’ve ever seen. Those arches are perfect. My cock starts to grow, but I’m really too tired to jerk off. I fade into sleep.

——— The Next Morning———

I open my apartment door after getting back from the dealership, and the party store.

I’m going as Joker, the Jared Leto version. Personally, I think his Joker was badass. I got a purple button up shirt, a white leather jacket, black dress pants, lime green hairspray, and pale facial makeup.

The bayraklı escort evening rolls around. I’m dressed and ready. I actually look pretty good with green hair. As I finish buttoning the shirt, I get a knock at the door. I walk out of the bedroom and into the living room. I unlock the door, and open it with a light pull.

My heart skips a beat when I see her. She walks in with a smile. She’s dressed as a sexy cat. She’s got a black shirt tucked into her tiny, orange and black skirt. I can most see of her sexy toned thighs. Her brunette hair has small streaks of temporary orange color. She has on those black and orange miss matched sandals, and her nails are done orange and black. The colors make her feet look even sexier. I look up and catch her eyes, complete with a little mascara.

She gasps.

“Joker?” She asks with an open mouth.

“Yep. Like it?” I ask. She nods her head.

“You are going as a pussy cat?” I ask. She does a sexy little twirl, and for a split second, I can see her panties. Orange.

She steps closer to me. Her right hand comes to rest on my chest. I look down into her green eyes.

“You look really, really sexy as the Joker.” She says with a grin. Her eyes look soft.

“Thanks. Pussycat.” I say back. She grins again.

“Well, you’re starting to make, THIS pussy…wet.” She says, biting her lip.

Oh hell yeah.

“Is that so?” I ask. She leans in and kisses me.

When we disconnect with a small smack, we look into each others eyes.

“You ready?” She asks. I turn around to grab my jacket off the couch.

“Oh, and did you see that black Camaro in the parking lot?” She asks. I turn towards while my right slides through the sleeve of the cold jacket.

“Yeah. It’s mine.” I say. “Bought it today.”

She smiles wide with suprise.

“What? It’s badass.” She says, turning towards the door. Her skirt comes up again, and I get another look at her panties.

“Thanks.” I say. She opens the door and steps out. I follow closely behind her. Her hips sway from side to side. Tease. I turn around and close the door. I slide the key into the deadbolt, and with some force, I get it to turn. I turn around to find that Caitlyn is waiting for me. She starts down the stairs, and I continue to follow closely behind.

As we walk down the stairs, she turns her head to look at me, grins, then looks forward again. She reaches her left hand around her, and picks up her skirt, exposing me her beautiful ass.

“Damn.” I say.

“Do you like it?” She asks, shaking her ass with her steps.

“You’ve got one hell of an ass.” I say back.

We get to the black Camaro. I open the door for her, then walk around to the drivers side. I climb in, and start the car. The engine roars, and the lights come on. She rolls her window down. I shut the door, then put it in reverse.

After she explains to me where the party is, I hit the highway. It’s about a fifteen to twenty minute drive. The lights of highway combined with the dark Halloween night sky. The cool air rushes into the car. The highway is mostly empty, just my Camaro.

I slowly pick up speed.







Then, finally, she starts laughing and screaming at the same time when I reach the 130 mile per hour mark. The highway lights fly past me, the air is messing up our hair. I start to slow down, now aware of the possibility of a highway patrol waiting to gig me. I slow to the speed limit, 75, and of course, Caitlyn decides to fuck with me.

She sets her pretty feet up on the black leather dash board. Her right foot sitting on her left ankle, showing off her beautiful arch. Her feet look so smooth, not a scratch, or mark anywhere. I look up, and we catch each others eyes. She laughs.

“Keep driving.” She says. Her mismatched sandals are insanely hot. Her orange and black nail polish is driving me nuts.

She moves her feet, and sets them down on my lap, pressing her sandals against my cock.

“Hey, I’m trynna drive.” I say, trying to focus on the road. I glance at her for a second, and she’s got a wide grin, completed with her biting nibbling at her finger. I glance back down at her panties, which are only exposed a little.

I turn back to the road, and try to focus.

“Get off at the next exit.” She says pointing to the next exit.

“If you don’t put your feet down I’m gonna get off before I get to the exit.” I say, hoping she gets the joke.

She does.

“Are they that pretty?” She asks with a smile, flexing her toes.

“They’re pretty fucking hot.” I say back. I get over to the next lane, and I proceed to the exit.

“Take a left, then take a right onto 129th. I’ll show you where the house is.

I turn onto 129th, and I immediately spot the bright house. Dozens of cars line the street. As we get closer to the house, I notice all the bright decorations engulfing the house. Tons of orange lights wrap the house. Ghastly lawn stakes protrude from the ground.

“There’s a spot in the grass there.” She says, pointing. I pull into the driveway, the into the grass. There’s at least 100 people out front alone, and I can’t imagine how many people are crammed into the two story house. I can hear the music. I stop the car, then put it in park. It shuts down, and we both step out. As I shut the door, a group of girls swarm my vehicle.

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