A Witch's Night Out - Sex Stories

A Witch's Night Out

... a bright red cape. As they approached he leered like a monstrous clown. Of course, it was only a mask. Daniel raised it a few inches and smiled. His mask was ill-fitting because he still wore his glasses underneath. Carol-Anne did not smile back, but she did squeeze his hand in greeting. "You made it," she said. "I told my dad I'd be in Summit tonight." "Us too." And normally they would be. Daniel least of all would want to miss the one night a year when even the most overbearing of parents was mysteriously indisposed and the very young people were left completely to themselves. But Daniel and Carol-Anne had grown up together, and the promise of the kiss she'd denied him so many times as kids playing in these same woods was enough to lure him away. Probably he was planning on trying to get even more than a kiss, but it didn't matter as long as he'd be there to back her up when Thomas inevitably lost his nerve. Hand in hand, they followed the old road. The woods at night used to scare Carol-Anne, with their skeletal trees and eerie calls of night birds, but now she enjoyed it. If she were a real witch she'd build her cabin right here and spend all night creeping through the black woods, looking for children to steal. She imagined how they all looked: Ghostly Thomas, so white he was barely there; Daniel's bright red cape darting like fire from tree to tree; and Carol-Anne herself so black she could be seen only as flickering movement between the trunks. The thought made her ...

... smile. Daniel was already taking liberties, trying to get her to cuddle up to him as they walked and whispering whenever he talked, so that his mouth could be very close to her ear. He'd probably make a real move before they even got to the house on the hill, but that was all right. Maybe she'd even let him. Why not, at this point? Dawdling again, Thomas said, "I hear something out there." "You're imaging things," Carol-Anne said. "No, I hear it too," said Daniel, looking over his shoulder. "Someone's on the road behind us." "Into the bushes, quick," Carol-Anne said. Thomas tried to object but Daniel stuck a hand over his mouth and actually picked him up and dragged him. All three of them crouched in the brush and held their breath as an eerie spectacle came into view: dozens of ghostly, bobbing lights floating through the forest, a long and snaking parade through the inky night. Carol-Anne saw the lights flicker in the wind and realized they were candles. It was a procession of people, each holding a light in front of them, each strangely attired in handmade wooden masks showing the leering faces of birds or pigs or goats or wild dogs. They were primitive and lifelike at the same time. Thomas tugged her sleeve and pointed. Carol-Anne saw it too: their mother's dress beneath one of the bird masks. The people walked two-by-two and took a long time to pass. The wood seemed colder, and Carol-Anne suddenly didn't mind Daniel wanting to get close, huddling next to him and squeezing ...