To properly celebrate the start of my sex blogging adventure, I’m taking part in Kink of the Week. The prompt was Halloween, and this is where my imagination took me – or one of the places at least. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I encourage you to go and check out the other amazing submissions by clicking the image at the bottom of my post!
My girlfriend manages to scare me sometimes. She teases me when I hold her hand when we’re walking through the dark streets at night. She makes me shiver with spooky stories, but still holds me at night. She’ll make jokes which are a little bit twisted, delivering horrifying statements with a glimmer of a smile that only I can see.
She’s suggested that we have sex in a graveyard. She reads horror novels and thriller fiction. She’s studying medicine, with the intention to become a surgeon. She certainly scares other people at times; when my friends first met her, they couldn’t believe that I was dating her, this intimidating, scary girl.
But on Halloween, I discovered that she gets scared too.
We were out with my friends, meaning that it was her turn to tease me to the point of distraction in public. It was a game we played often; how long it would take one of us to make the other admit that they needed the other to satisfy them. Last time I’d pulled off a trick which led to her begging for my fingers in a most un-her way in the bathroom of the restaurant itself. I was expecting payback, and excited for it, especially knowing what was waiting for us back at my flat.
I was tensed in anticipation of her touching me under the table, but it didn’t come. Expecting her teasing touch, I was on edge while she was chatting with my friends. I marvelled at how casual she could be when she was usually the one trying to get this evenings over with as quickly as possible so we could go back to mine and fuck. I tried to concentrate on a friend’s story about something that had happened to her at the weekend, but it was hard when I was so aware of my girlfriend sitting next to me. She was cunning: arousing me by denying me what I was waiting for.
I answered my friends’ questions and engaged in the conversation as we ate, but I just wanted her hands on me. We had reached dessert, and after all the things she had whispered in my ear earlier, I couldn’t believe that she wasn’t touching me. I was finally relaxing, leaning forward to hear a story about a hilariously bad date and sipping my wine when she dropped her spoon. You couldn’t have told it was an accident – it was only the smile she gave me as she dipped under the table to retrieve it that let me know that she’d done it on purpose.
Then she was kneeling between my legs, and I couldn’t breathe. She was mouthing at my crotch, a sudden hot wet pressure, pushing the seam of my jeans into my clit. A second later she was up, sitting casually beside me again. But from that moment her hands where all over me. Sliding up and down my thighs. Pressing against my crotch where her mouth had been a minute ago. Drawing gentle circles on my knees, and tracing patterns with her nails on my arms, making me shiver. It was torture to get through the rest of the meal with her teasing me.
I tell this part of the story to show that by the time we reached my flat we were both horny and ready to fuck. And my power was out.
Ever prepared – and certainly unwilling to give up sex just because I couldn’t turn the light on, I accepted that we maybe couldn’t use my new toy tonight – I found and lit candles, while she told me about a girl who met a girl in the woods and slept with her, and woke up the next morning to find no girl in the leaf pile next to her, but instead was sleeping lying against a grave stone. I shook my head and laughed, knowing my goose-bumps would be disguised by the cold.
I handed her a candle and led her through into my bedroom, carrying a tray of stuttering tealights myself. She stopped me though, a hand on my wrist, pulling me into her for a rough kiss – ever careless of the burning candles I’m holding. Her face was lit with flickering light when we pulled apart, and she’s grinning at me. I smiled back, twisting my arm so instead of her gripping my wrist I held her hand.
In my room I spread the tealights out on my desk, and flick on the battery-operated fairy lights, while she places the tall candle on the draws beside my bed and comes up behind me. Already having shed her shit, her boobs squished into my back as she wrapped her arms around me.
“Get on the bed,” she whispered to me in a low voice, playful but making fresh arousal flush my knickers, “and get ready to beg me.”
She watched me, leaning on my desk, as I stripped for her. The dancing candlelight made my skin glow. I felt beautiful. It was the perfect setting for a Halloween fuck. I positioned myself on the bed and looked up at her with my best pleading come-kiss-me-before-I-explode-with-lust look.
Then it happened. She stepped towards me. Something thumped on to my desk. The motion created a gust of air which blew half the candles out. Then there was another thud. In the darkness, she all but jumped across the room into my bed, her voice about two octaves higher than usual when she spoke.
“What the hell was that?!”
I have to admit that I laughed. And laughed. I giggled, holding her close in the darkness and burying my face in her neck to press light kisses there.
“I don’t believe it,” I said when I had recovered a bit, “were you actually scared?”
“Something fell on your desk and then hit my leg as it dropped. It was cold. What was it?”
“I bought a new dildo for our strap-on so you could fuck me tonight, but didn’t mention it because we had no light. It must have toppled over. You got scared by a rolling sex toy, darling.”
This time she laughed with me, squirming ‘round so she could suck a biting kiss into my neck instead. But for a second, a tiny second, she had been scared by the Halloween present I’d bought her.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex blogger. He’s a sex nerd with vaginismus who writes about his adventures in learning to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks. For his less explicit content on trans inclusivity, check out whatsinyourpants.co.