Danny Boy - A Halloween Story - Sex Stories

Danny Boy - A Halloween Story

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * It was very late at night– or very early in the morning depending on your point of view. I am always up sometime during the night. I think I inherited that from my ...

... father. In any case, it was a little after 2:00 am and I was sitting at my computer reading through stories that I planned to enter in this year’s Halloween Story contests. My in-house editor had already gone through them and corrected my atrocious grammar and my even more atrocious spelling. ... The only good thing that can be said about my spelling is that at least I remember that there is an “r” in shirt. The stories were ready, but it is always a good idea to go back and read them one last time as if you’ve never read them before. Sometimes, for that final reading, I even read them aloud. Once in a while I’ll find a sentence or phrase that doesn’t say what I thought it said. An hour later, I had made two very minor changes to one of the stories and was about to head back to bed when a small voice said, “Laddie, laddie, laddie. Is that the lot? You’ll be a real disappointment to us all this year, ya will. An’ I was tellin’ all me friends at the pub that you were me favorite author.” I looked around trying to find the source of the voice and discovered a man about three inches high sitting on a dead mouse near the corner of my desk. It was a computer mouse, not a rodent. It no longer functioned, but I had merely shoved it aside and never gotten around to throwing it away. It made the perfect bench for him as he sat on it with his legs crossed, holding his top hat in his hands and smoking a long-stemmed pipe. His hat and his frock coat were emerald green, and he was wearing ...