“Gather around, guys. I want y’all to repeat what I just said so I know you know what you gotta do.”

It was so dark I couldn’t see a damned thing, but I knew I wasn’t the only one Luke was annoying. I’d practically heard the group eyeroll that his whip cracking had elicited. Tonight’s challenge was supposed to be fun but, as usual, he was turning it into a military exercise.

It wasn’t looking good for him getting a response and I kinda hoped he didn’t, cos Luke being ignored was always amusing. But, just like in any group of friends, there was always one. As expected, Jillian cleared her throat and started to speak and one by one, we all joined in.

“Find the scarecrow, take his pumpkin-assed head, get back to the van and blare the horn to let everyone know we have a winner.”

“You guys are such parrots, I just said all that,” Luke sniggered. “Okay, up and at ‘em, people. The hunt starts now.”

Shaking my head, I leant against a wooden post at the edge of the field, watching nearly a dozen torch beams blink into life, throwing wide spotlights over swathes of towering corn. For a moment, the night took on an eerie green hue but the glow shrank and finally vanished when the plants swallowed up my friends.

I stayed right where I was, just listening. Waiting for it.

Yep, there we go. Alex and her shrill fucking scream. Oh, and that was Terri off now and…three…two…one… Dave started yelping. What they had to howl about I had no idea. Everyone knew the frigging scarecrow was Jonah in a cheap Halloween costume, and there’s no way would he be three metres into the field. That ghoulish bastard would be right in the middle, rubbing his fingers together and cackling like the villain of the piece.

The desire to clamber into the van, switch on the heater and radio, then stuff my face on candy corn was getting stronger by the moment. I didn’t want to go snuffling around a cornfield in the dark, looking for an asshole who was hellbent on frightening the shit out of me. It bugged Jonah that I didn’t scare easy, and he vowed that he’d make me scream before the year was out. I had pointed out that he’d made me scream a hundred times since we’d gotten together, but he said sex screams didn’t count. Only a scream of terror would do.

A quick flick of my finger and my torch shone brightly. The ground was mulchy beneath my feet as I walked toward the forest of corn. No way was Jonah getting one up on me. I’d find him, be-pumpkin-head him, then I’d walk away with a sway in my hips and a try harder next time smile on my lips.

Within minutes, I was lost.

I could still hear laughs, shrieks, and hoots from my friends, but they seemed to come from all directions at once. I’d watched purposefully from the outside so I could gauge which way each of them had headed, but now that I was in the thick of it my mental compass was on the blink. But I wouldn’t let it freak me out. Determination may as well have been my middle name. Either that or stubborn ass.

Plunging further in was all I could do, so that’s what I did. My delight when I found a narrow dirt pathway was intense. I knew that I hadn’t been turned around, so if I headed right I’d go in deeper. God, it was cold! And just starting to rain, too. It wasn’t a heavy rain, but one of those fine ones that soaked through to the skin in minutes. Great.

Cold, wet, dark, and disturbing. As mate-dates went, this was craptacular.

Still plodding along the same path, I heard something that made me stop. My ears strained to pick up the sound again, but at first, there was nothing. I listened some more, and there it was! A soft rustling of leaves. The snap of a stalk. A quiet grunt that sounded half threat half stifled laugh.

“Oh my God, Jonah, you are such a prick.”

Of all the people searching for him in this field, he’d managed to avoid them and find me. It was so unlikely it made me laugh out loud. I pushed through the brittle plants, hoping I wasn’t getting covered in whatever creepy crawlies lived on them.

I was smiling, flashing my torch around, stomping my feet. Showing how very few fucks I gave about the whole situation while singing loudly in my head to distract myself from whatever jump scare Jonah had planned for me.

A small opening appeared in front of me, killing my laugh dead. I’d found Jonah. The sick fuck sat slumped on the ground in front of a rotted wooden cross, his arms draped over the crossbar. His big head flopped forward and to the side.

I’d expected his costume to be the crappy one he’d worn for Halloween last year, but this one was pretty good. Raggy hessian pants with a few patches. A floppy hat that matched. Holey, brown suede gloves. I wrinkled my nose at how itchy the straw sticking out from beneath the collar and cuffs of his shredded checked shirt must have been.

“Get your ass up from there and give me your head,” I laughed.

Jonah didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge me.

I went from amused to irritated in two seconds flat. The rain was getting heavier, the wind was picking up and making the corn rasp and wave. I wanted out of the night and back in the warm van, and this dick wasn’t going to stop me from getting there.

Stepping forward, I aimed my torch right at him. “Come on, moron, I want to get out of here.”

Jonah raised his head. I had a brief thought that I’d better still win despite the fact that he’d worn a hessian hood with glowing red eyes instead of the prized pumpkin head. But I fell right off that train of thought when I realised that the movement of his shoulders had parted his open shirt. I got a tantalisingly naughty flash of hard cock, and then my torch batteries died.

“Fuck.” My giggle was ridiculous, given the circumstances. “I hope you have a torch, cos my spare batteries are in the…Oh!”

Jonah was behind me. I hadn’t even heard him move. My breathing became shallow, prickles crept over my skin as the rough hessian hood brushed against my cheek. I glanced to the side and shuddered. Those red eyes looked so real. So disturbing.

Of all the things I’d expected to happen tonight, something sexy hadn’t been one of them. But there I was panting in the dark, helping Jonah unbutton my shirt and hissing when his hands clamped around my tits. God, his cock was like a metal pole, crushing against my ass. That was unusual for him. Even clothed, the guy was a thruster, not a grinder. He liked the way my ass bounced back.

Ugh, everything about this was skeevy, from the muddy, rotting stench coming from the hideous costume he was wearing to the grimy feel of those gloves on my skin. They felt dirty and wet, but he was getting a good grip on my nipples despite how bulky the suede made his hands, so I wasn’t about to complain.

Jonah didn’t say anything. He just pressed closer to my back, kicking the backs of my shoes with the toes of his to shuffle me forward. My hands were outstretched, so I felt the cross and stopped myself before I walked into it.

As Jonah unzipped my jeans and pushed them down, I wondered what would happen next. Last time we’d had sex in a field we’d both used our hands, but there was no way was he touching my cunt until he’d had a wash. Those gloves really were filthy.

I didn’t have to wonder for long, though. With a quick jerk of his legs, Jonah put pressure on the backs of my knees. I dropped to the ground, feeling mud sucking at my skin. He grabbed my hands and draped them over the crossbar, arranging me more or less in the same position he’d been in when I’d found him.

My own breaths turned to moisture on my face, mixing with splatters from the heavy rain. Splinters from the rotting wood I clung to dug in, threatening to embed themselves in my skin.

It was gross, but all of me wanted this. My head, my heart, the deepest pit of my stomach and the aching, dripping place between my thighs… every part of me wanted to be fucked, even though I knew in some hazy corner of my mind that the voices of our friends were getting louder. They were getting closer.

Jonah slapped my tits, making them swing. He grabbed my ass cheeks, parting them, rubbing his cock back and forth over my vulva, making sure he didn’t miss my clit. Over and over until I was whispering for him to just fuck me.

And then he was in me. I must have been turned on to the point of desperation because his cock felt enormous. Harder and longer than it had ever felt before. It stretched me, filled me, sank so deep I cried out in pain every time a rogue thrust interrupted his slow grinding.

Whatever he’d been watching, I approved, cos the guy had gone from a decent fuck to an incredible one, literally overnight. It was as if something had clicked and now, instead of me having to give him directions, he was going on instinct. He knew exactly what I needed, what I wanted. Speeding up and taking me close to the edge, slowing down and letting it ebb before pushing my face into the cross and mashing his hand into my belly every time his cock was in me as deep as it would go.

I tried not to make any noise, but I couldn’t help myself. A few wails escaped, and every time his groin slapped off my ass I yelped. And then I was coming. Clinging to the cross by the tips of my fingers, sucking in the scent of mud and decay as Jonah gripped my hips and lifted my legs off the ground so he could hammer my cunt until he exploded.

When he came, I felt it. Rather than warmth, there was cold. An almost icy blast of wetness that bloomed inside of me. He pulled out and I felt it crawling down my vaginal walls, gathering at my opening before seeping out and dripping onto the ground.

Jonah hauled me to my feet and, once I’d put myself away, handed me the hessian hood.

“Do you have a torch?” I asked.

He didn’t reply, he just pressed his hand into the small of my back and encouraged me to walk. Only a few minutes passed before I was emerging from the field with my prize in my hand. I’d taken a couple of steps out into the open when all hell broke loose.

The van headlights flared on, and the horn started blaring wildly. Victorious shouts came from in front of me and disappointed groans drifted in from behind.

I stood stock still in confusion while Jonah patted my shoulder in commiseration.

The hessian hood slipped from my hand as I tried to figure out what had just happened.

Luke danced in the beam of the lights, thrusting his hips at me and calling us all losers. In his hand was a very familiar pumpkin head, and leaning against the van in a cheap Halloween scarecrow costume, waving at me and blowing me a pity kiss, was Jonah.

I opened my mouth, sucking in as much air as my lungs would hold, and finally, Jonah got his scream.

Week 163

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