Pale pleasures - 1. Pale pleasures

Having moved into my small condo, tucked on the fringes of the newly gentrified neighborhood, just a couple weeks before I didn't know many neighbors yet. That's why I was startled early in October on my own front stoop by a hoot of “good morning” yodeled by a woman dressed as a peacock. I'm sure the expression on my face looked rude as hell, but it's not the sort of thing the average suburban dude expects at early o'clock on a Tuesday. The woman, who I vaguely remember is named Jean or Jo maybe, is decked out in a riot of teal and purple feathers. All the while she is setting up an absolute masterpiece of a cemetery scene in her postage stamp of a front yard all of our condos came with. Remembering my manners, I wave haltingly and get into my car to drive off to my cubicle farm where I work in accounts payable. It might be a boring midrange salary job, and is partly why I am single, but I like it. I work long hours at a yawn fest of a position, and my last boyfriend had complained it made me seem stuffy and old.

Kyle and I met shortly after I graduated college, a few years back, and became serious after a year or so of dating. But the last two years I had heard a familiar complaint, Kyle nagging at me to be wilder like we used to be when we met. My frustration led me to not so subtly telling him to mature a bit maybe. Truthfully, things hadn't been going well between us; our schedules were no longer syncing up and after nearly four years together it felt harder than ever to be happy.

The clincher came one night a few months ago when we finally went for date night. Kyle picked a fight on the same tired topic, moaning how I was becoming someone like his dad. When I retorted I felt at three years from thirty I didn't want to have to eat ramen and house share because I was a half assed bartender, a direct dig at Kyle, I felt him lose his cool. He screeched back that at least his job came with real perks like blowjobs. We simply stared at each other, the date and our relationship gone skidding to a stop right there.

I shake my head at the hurt I still feel. Moving across the city had been to get away from our old place and the memories it held. Pulling into my drive as I return home that evening, my Halloween obsessed neighbor's yard was still being transformed gloriously into the epitome of creepy. I stare fascinated at the over the top amounts of decorations piled around. It makes me stop and stare like I have never seen Halloween decorations before in my whole twenty-seven years.

Amongst the fake tombstones there were extremely realistic zombies and strewn body parts, giant spiders, ferocious hell beasts that could loosely be seen as canine, and extremely unsettling small human like figurines.

“Impressive eh?” I hear a soft voice murmur behind me.

When I turn to look I have to physically stifle a gasp. He is hauntingly beautiful, with long hair, high cheekbones to make an eastern European model weep in envy and a lithe body poured into dark wash skinny jeans. He looks young, but I get the impression he is near my age. He is also a milk pale albino whose reddened pink wash eyes make me lose my composure momentarily. Feeling gauche, I try to correct my rudeness.

“Yeah, it's truly impressive. She does this every year? And hello, I'm Steven, just moved in just recently.”

I hold my hand out to him, and to my discomfort he simply looks at me and doesn't touch me.

“She does. Every day she dresses up too. By the time the rugrats come around for candy she will have the corner looking like a Halloween prop store. She will try and rope everyone around here into joining her.”

His voice is soft, almost a buzz, like bees on summer blooms. I wait for more honey-soaked words, but the pale pretty boy moves back and appears ready to leave.

“Wait, what's your name?” I ask, eager to get to know this neighbor in particular. He throws a smirk my way but continues his walk off into the late afternoon shadows. I think he is headed towards the units across from mine. I stare after him, put off by his rudeness but still undeniably attracted. A dog barking close by makes my head turn, and while distracted by watching a neighbor's gangly kid try to wrestle their German shepherd on a leash he slips unseen into whichever home is his.

I didn't see him again that week, but I see Joanne, as it turns out the peacock was named, every day. My pretty neighbor didn't lie, she wears something new each day. Today she is a cow, and comes to my porch bearing a plate of cookies.

“Heya young man, how's about a welcome treat for your moooooove in?” she frames the pun with a waggle of her hips, setting the plastic udders to jiggling. Its disconcerting and hugely charming, after all Joanne is in her seventies as near as I can tell. “I've been lazy, not coming to greetcha properly and all”.

Her open grin and friendly warmth make me chuckle.

“It's no problem, I've mostly been working or unpacking, not much time to socialize until now anyway. But come in, please.” I step back, for her to enter my home, and lead her to my small kitchen. “Coffee? Tea?” I ask, trying to share in her neighborly courtesy.

“Ah no, I'm fine, thank ya. I mostly came to get the lay of the land. Ya know, fill up my gossip bin as we old ladies are wont to do and all.” Her wrinkled face holds a shark like grin that belies the sunny laughter in her eyes. “You move here for family? Work?”

I'm a bit taken aback by her immediate line of questioning, but think to myself all old ladies must feel they aren't constrained to just polite small talk, certainly my gramma had not. As much as I remembered of her anyway. With some hesitancy I answer her, “No, no family around here. In fact, I haven't got much family at all these days, but that's the way it goes sometimes.” I hope she won't ask for details. And surprisingly she does not, simply moving into her next fact-finding mission

“So, you single? Don't be scared, it's not for me youngin’, my running days are done. Heh. But Margie over in 438 has a granddaughter around your age. Lives in Westbrook, oncology nurse. You game?” she waggles grey eyebrows at me.

I shift and tense up. Hopefully the gossip queen won't also be a homophobic bitch. We were making landfall on the reason I am lacking family ties.

“Actually Joanne, I'm more likely to play games with Margie's grandsons, if she has any,” I look away, feeling tense.

“Oh. Alrighty then,” we both stand awkwardly, then Joanne continues brightly. “Well Margie's only got the passel of girls but Lila in 244 has a great-nephew who's gay, he lives just over in Greenville. I think she said he's an insurance agent, a little boring if you ask me but the kid’s got ass for days.”

The tension runs out of me as I release a whoop of laughter. Joanne smiles merrily up at me, her cow ears flopping back as she cranes her neck to take in my height of 6’3”.

“Actually Joanne, can you tell me about our neighbor I met the other afternoon? Young guy. Albino.” I stop there, because I am fairly confident there won't be more than one person with such a rare genetic condition in the complex. Her face loses some of its excitement as she answers.

“Oh my. You saw Orin? He rarely comes outside in the day, his skin being problematic you know.”

Orin. How fittingly exotic.

“Just briefly. I didn't even catch his name. Where's his place?” I bite my lip, annoyed with my total lack of subtlety.

“Orin doesn't like visitors. He rarely comes out. Stays up all hours, not sure he ever sleeps.” Joanne’s voice takes a guarded and cool tone, maybe she doesn't like him much.

“But I will say he usually makes an appearance to my Friday night movie screenings, I host them all October! I welcome everyone, and now I'm inviting you! This week it's The Omen, you should come by. Seven sharp, bring a snack,” and with that she winks and hustles away, whistling happily.

Strange how her moods switched around, but I suppose she likes Orin enough to invite him, though she seemed to be inviting the entire complex.

Friday turns out as exactly the kind of day to end in a scary movie since it was a horror show at work. I spent hours working on the county transportation account, something I inherited from someone who had been let go the week before. Seeing the mess the account was in it was obvious why they'd been fired. It was basically a tangle of unpaid invoices, paid but not properly filed entries, forms missing crucial information and the like. By the end of the day I had to suppress the urge to guzzle wine. My job wasn't always bad, but today had been terrible. And so, while I don't watch scary movies as a rule, I was in need of some adrenaline release. I am also interested enough in my sexy moonbeam neighbor to take one for the team, with luck I wouldn't scream like a little bitch at the frightening parts. Yes, hopefully Orin would be at Joanne’s. In light of that I prepare my outfit carefully. I settle on a pair of indigo dark jeans and plain red long sleeve button down, untucked. Casual, but not too sloppy. I set out with a resolute confidence in my step.

The first thing I notice is that Joanne has really gone crazy with decorations. Apparently, the plethora of sculpture I had originally seen wasn't the final set up. The small creepy looking gnomes now line the walk up from the street and a veritable tsunami of zombie parts flood the lawn. Through the front window I could see ravens and owls on multiple black lace covered surfaces, giving the look of an over the top goth wedding. The Halloween queen herself bounces up to me as I enter her home. I came in without knocking since her door sported a black cat with a cartoon bubble saying ‘come in come in my pets’. This evening she is dressed as a nun, and she pours me something from a joke flask labeled holy water into a plastic skull cup. From the smell it appears to be vodka.

“Welcome dear heart! Mixers and such are in the kitchen. Don't lose your skull or you're stuck with my old jam jars to drink from. Everyone's gathered already, make yourself at home!”

Her enthusiasm is contagious and I feel a smile break out as I pass through her hallway to the kitchen. I find my way easily, since my home looks identical. Well, aside from my home isn't drowning in gauze and fake spiders like Joanne’s.

Entering the kitchen, I nod appreciatively at the crowd. Joanne drew an impressive number of attendees, at least twenty of our neighbors are here. Even a few in costume, though Halloween proper is still a few weeks away. The only person I came for though isn't here. I grimace and try hard to stifle my disappointment. After all I really should get to know the rest of my neighbors anyway. It's been a month and I only know Joanne. I stick a smile back on and sigh quietly, running my eyes across the people to pick out who I could introduce myself to first. Good thing I'm not really shy.

“Her movie nights always have a big turnout you know. But the Friday before Halloween will be the real deal, last year the next street over called the cops on her for noise,” a soft voice says directly into my ear, startling me into a tight yelp. I turn and am slapped with wave of attraction. I'm struck so strongly by desire I nearly lose my balance. As it were, I drop my skull cup and my coke and holy water splashes down onto the angel’s shoes. Literally, as Orin is dressed as an angel. His white hair floats around his shoulders and seems to blend nearly seamlessly into his glistening white and extremely realistic looking wings.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I've scared you. Forgive me?” he bites his lower lip and looks up at me through pale lashes, his rosy eyes beguiling me. I find myself short of breath, my chest constructed from concrete as the guy who has been haunting my nights stands before me. His demeanor plays at innocent but he wears a knowing tease in his smile.

“You can scare me any night” I boldly state, giving a wink to the angel.

With a golden laugh and a flirty smirk Orin brushes past murmuring, “well maybe I'll come knock on your door this Halloween.”

I stare at his winged-back, thinking it would a treat indeed. The party wails on but I don't see him again though, yes, I look. So just a couple hours after our conversation I go home myself. The remainder of my Friday night is spent on some quality time reading erotica and fantasizing about a certain pale young man lowering himself onto my aching cock and singing my name up to the bright moon.

Saturday is cooler and cloudy, unlike the stretch of summer heated sun we had been having this past week while I was trapped in my windowless office cubicle ten hours a day. October around here could be like that, nearly hot one day and plunging to chilly autumnal depths the next. After spending the overcast morning unpacking my last few boxes I decide to bundle up and take a walk. Telling myself I definitely am not trying to lightly stalk a certain skinny albino whose surprisingly round ass stars in my fantasies, my semi hard dick scoffs at my lie.

“Yoo-hoo! Stevie!”

I turn towards the house that Halloween vomited up to see Joanne moving down the sidewalk towards me, clutching a casserole dish. Today she is dressed as Ursula from The Little Mermaid, complete with an Ariel doll strapped to her waist. My mission to hunt down Orin is temporarily forgotten as I take in her Disney centric excess of enthusiasm for costuming.

“Ah Stevie, how ya been boyo? Ready to face the ghouls next week?”

“It’s Steven. And I hadn't realized Halloween was so close. Time is creeping up on me.” I'm a bit put off at the nickname but trying not to sound bitchy.

“Ah Steven. To be sure. Well yes, weekend after this one is the big day. When the spirits rise and the veil between the living and the dead is parted!” Joanne’s voice takes on a strident and commanding tone, making me instinctively back up a step. But then she raises an eyebrow at me and smiles, saying, “Here. I made you a chicken and rice casserole. Glad I caught you before you headed out. Where ya going?”

I work hard not to be affronted at her curiosity. She is an old lady, and they are nosy as a rule, right?

“Oh, just for a walk. I'm hoping to catch Orin out, talked with him at yours last night. He's interesting and very cute.”

I feel ok sharing that with her, since she seemed to have no qualms about my attraction to men. But I am surprised at what comes next. Shoving the casserole dish at me, she snips with pursed lips.

“Be careful around him. Not everything is with that one as it seems.”

Her face is pinched and sour, like the words were lemons in her mouth. I'm sure my face is showing my confusion, but Joanne merely sighs and pets my arm before sailing back down the sidewalk, voluminous black skirts from her sea witch get-up billowing behind her.

I stare after her, more than a little confused by our exchange. I return to my front door however, since I am now in possession of a tasty casserole that needs the fridge. Stepping outside again after putting it away, my head is down as I exit my house on autopilot. Thus I don't at first see Orin’s slight frame as he leans against my mailbox, his chin cupped gently in his pale hand. But I don't miss the rippling water sound of his voice.

“I heard you were looking for me. Why?”

My head snaps up, my hazel eyes locking with his red eyes, which are filled with wariness and anger. Frowning, I think back to when last we spoke at the party. Then he seemed to welcome talking to me. Well he had left early. Ohh, shit. Maybe he isn't gay and my flirting creeped him out. This is probably going to be awkward and painful for us both. I sigh with resignation and bumble forth a confused mess of words.

“Orin. Um...hey...yeah, I was...looking at you, I mean FOR you sorry. Because. Well. I uh, I was wondering. Shit. Uh, wondering where you lived?” my voice sounds breathless and high pitched. How annoying of me, he's definitely straight and I'm here being a dumbass.

Pushing his slight frame off the mailbox Orin begins a slow saunter towards me, his narrow hips rocking in pace with my heartbeat.

“Why though?” he challenges me, his face a smooth imperious mask.

My nerve to be honest and upfront crumbles when I'm lost in his wine dark gaze. All I can think of is how good it would feel to lay under his perfect slim pale body and allow him to drink me up.

“Oh. I just… I ….” my voice falters there. My eyes are possessed by his and my brain grinds to a halt as his cool and tender hand sweeps across my jaw lightly. He growls a chuckle and parts of me shiver in fearful anticipation, while a deeper part of me hungers at the heady promise his laugh carries so clearly.

“Do I make you nervous sweet Steven? No need. I'll never hurt you. It's not in me to hurt others,” his summer sweet whisper thrums across my body and centers its hold on my groin. My dick responds to his master by straining upwards for attention.

“I—Yes. You do—make me nervous I mean,” I stutter out as I struggle to form words with my gaze locked onto his perfect red and white visage.

“Good,” he hisses and I've never thought a hiss could sound sexy yet my rapidly constricting jeans were informing me of how wrong I had been.

Then something happens that nearly makes my heart stop. He licks me. Placing his hand on my chest, right over my galloping heart, he leans in and drags his soft pink tongue along my jawline, ending in a light nip of my earlobe.

“See you in the moonlight soon,” he promises, running his hand across my package. My world expands into an aurora of light and sound, my knees buckle and when I finally come back to myself I'm kneeling half collapsed at the end of my driveway with the evidence of my orgasm ruining my pants. Orin is nowhere to be seen.

The next week at work is stifling. I am having difficulty focusing on the most basic tasks, and spend an inordinate amount of formerly productive time dreaming of plowing the back field of my bewitching neighbor. A neighbor I neither know the last name of or location of his home. Hell, all I really know about him is he has a voice like summer and hands that can conduct a symphony on my cock.

He also apparently has a weird schedule. I keep catching him at all times of the day and night walking down the street, but by the time I get out my front door I have missed him again. On Wednesday morning I glimpse him as I drive out of the neighborhood and nearly make a U-turn despite being on my way to work. The pull to see him again is strong. By Friday afternoon I am shaking with excess tension, thinking of the standing invite to Joanne’s and if he might grace it with his presence. Tomorrow is Halloween and I hope I'd be getting a large piece of Orin in my treat bag. The clock at work cuts and measures each anxious breath I take while thinking of what tonight might bring. I finally feel ready to move forward from Kyle's memory and into the taunting play Orin seems to promise. At last, it's close enough to quitting time for me to feel comfortable gathering my belongings and swiftly exit the cubicle farm I crunch numbers in.

Driving up to my home the streets seem darker than usual. The HOA prohibits those giant security lights on porches, so the neighborhood is usually warmed with soft golden post lighting. Tonight, however, they are all off. Given most folk have decorated for the spooky holiday coming tomorrow, the drive home throws off a more eerie vibe than expected. Enough to make me sit in my car as the shadows lengthen, listening to the cooling engine tick quietly, while I gather courage. I'm not anticipating Orin to be right beside my window though, so when I turn myself to open the car door, his stark white cheekbones catch the moonlight in a sinister fashion and I startle us both by screaming like I am auditioning for a run of Sweeney Todd.

His eyes open widely in alarm, before he steps away from my car door and fastens a sharp glare on me. My legs shake as I get out and when I begin to gasp out an apology to him, he cuts me off with a “Hush fool. There isn't anything to be afraid of, with me anyway.”

I can only stare at him, unsure of how to rescue myself from further embarrassment. I motion him to give me a moment and finish hauling my blushing self from my vehicle. I catch a flicker of motion behind him, it's curtains twitching down at Joanne’s place. It's not quite dark so her party hasn't begun yet, and if Orin is here I hope he will want to stay at my place rather than hobnob with the neighborhood association over pretzels and cheap wine.

We stare at each other in my driveway, the evening giving his deeply pale skin the illusion of dusky shadows, making him lose some of the ethereal beauty his coloration gives. Some isn’t all though, my awakening lust points out. I still have confusion on how he feels, and saying I feel uneasy is an understatement. I'm no swaggering macho man but neither am I usually this dithering and insecure. From the moment I first saw him I've lost what little poise I had. I watch his beautiful face and the tiny smirking smile that slowly forms on the normally impassive front.

“Would you like to come home with me?” his voice glides over me like sunshine on water and I barely register my hand reaching for his as I dumbly nod yes.

Everything seems blurry and yet sharply distinct as we walk down the sidewalk. I keep feeling vaguely like I should be worried about, well, something. My brain can't keep hold of such a slippery thought with the firm rounded ass of Orin gently bobbing along just in front of me. As we walk up a short walkway, around the corner from my own unit, I again feel this tingling thrill of fear and uneasiness. Sadly I can't focus enough on anything besides my response to the taut luminescent body of Orin.

In the space of heartbeats, we are entering his home, a familiar setup, since every condo here has the same layout of rooms. But Orin’s home is stark, nearly empty of anything at all. His home looks less moved into than my place does. Strange since I know from speaking with Joanne, Orin has lived in the neighborhood for years. I'm staring at the blank wall above the unused looking sofa when my ears catch the snick of the lock. My pulse surges when Orin steps into my line of sight and beckons me to him. He walks backward to the bedroom, I see myself stepping forward, though my mind is shouting no and adds sexing up the weird and starting to feel creepy hot neighbor guy is indeed a Very Bad Plan.

I keep walking.

His bed is soft, and my body is hard. Especially my dick. I shove my doubts and worries to the far back corner of my head and shed my clothes before pulling a naked Orin closer to me. I feel drunk, my skin is alive with a jolting energy at each touch. Orin runs his long pale fingers across my arms, down my chest and lower still to where I eagerly thrust up towards him. I realize, with shock, that I am on my back when he hovers above me. While I almost never bottom, I find myself rubbing against him like a cat in heat. I am fully aware that I am not acting like myself. However I can't seem to care, even though a tiny frisson alerts me I should, in fact, be caring a great deal. From this upwards angle, everything on Orin seemed so sharp and delineated. His face, his muscles, his teeth. Cool hands open the fly of my work slacks and my eyes close from the explosion of the powder keg that is my libido.

The slacks are roughly pulled away and I blink my eyes open in shock at the feel of Orin preparing my ass with fingers already slick with lube. I fleetingly think I should say something like, ‘hey wait I barely know you and I don't even really like bottoming’, but I don't. I can't. I have no desire to say those words. His touch is electric, my hips rise in the current he provides. I hear a whining moan crying out needily and realize incredulously that it is me. Orin leans down to nuzzle and lick at my neck and my hands tangle in his long pale hair. Our mouths come together like lodestones and when his tongue slips inside my warm mouth, I feel his hardness breaching my other end.

Pressure gives way to a sting but only briefly. His hands have been skillful and I open up easily as he moves deeper to luxuriate in my tight inner heat. I moan when I am set adrift on waves of pleasure as his hands caress me all over. While he waits for my channel to fully welcome his length, I revel in how unexpectedly good this feels. In a few breaths, we go from holding still and absorbing how the other's body feels in the most intimate of postures to rocking together in a pace that leaves me crying out his name.

The concert of our sex is filled with low moans from Orin, trilling cries and plaintive wails from me as we move our bodies ever faster. His hands clutch at my waist. I curse at him to fuck me harder and faster as I feel drawn ever closer to the precipice. Everything feels so new with him. Endless minutes of joy later I hear him grunt and call to me.

“Steven, I want to cum inside you."

The heat that flashes through me at his words, at the image I have of his seed flooding me, something I've never allowed before, threatens to burn my body from the inside out.

“Yes. God yes. Take me. Do it Orin! Go! Orinnnnnn” my answer ends in a wail as I feel him stiffen and jerk inside me, his face marred by such delicious agony he is no longer beautiful.

He pulls away from me and I'm left aching and bereft. Before I can even finish myself off I feel silky hair trailing on my thighs. I open my eyes to see Orin lapping at my dick like a red eyed hell kitten. He stares into my gaze, not breaking it even as he slowly wraps his lips around the head and sinks down, taking me to the base without any hesitation. My back arches and I'm on the upward climb of the sexiest roller coaster of my life when Orin hums a pretty sound and swallows me deep into his throat.

Light shoots across my vision, colors crawl across my taste buds and the intense heat and pleasure spreads from my cock and becomes the world all around. I'm falling, I'm soaring and when I open my eyes again I'm lying sweaty on a bed that isn't mine, with no energy to move. Time may have stopped, I have no idea how long we lie tangled together.

“You're mine now” I hear, and I turn my head.

The fog of desire is lifting, slowly. My eyebrows draw down with the glare I send his way. I belong to no fucking one. My mouth opens to assure the gleeful Orin of this fact, but I can't breathe. His eyes, they're redder than rubies and shining in a way my brain is screaming human eyes simply did not shine. Blinking rapidly doesn’t dislodge the scene. He smiles and I catch sight of very sharp, what are they oh, oh fuck he has fangs. I slide off the bed so quickly my head cracks against the nightstand.

“Ow!” I moan, trying to collect myself before I become a post coital snack.

The languid stupor I had been in on the walk to the house has fled, and any vestiges of lust dry up at the sight of fangs set in a possessive face. What was happening? What and who was this guy really? For that matter, who was I and what the fuck had I been thinking to just go off and screw a stranger. Topping that, ha, I hadn't even topped. I'd let some freak with sharp teeth and pet store bunny looks slide his amazing thick cock into my ass until I couldn't function any longer. And I wanted him to do it again. I needed him to do it again. I needed help.

A silent minute passes while I stare up at Orin from my huddled position on the carpet, before survival instinct takes over. Though, Orin remains on the bed and makes no move toward me, I begin throwing on my pants and shoes.

“Steven wait,” he begins with a tone of resolve in his golden voice.

I back away towards the door and point a shaking finger at him

“No. Stay. Away.” I rasp out, my voice thick with fear and tension.

Orin just watches me, with sad but accepting eyes. Grabbing the rest of my things I turn and sprint for the door before running home like the devil himself is behind me. Well hell, maybe he is, who knows what kind of creature Orin truly is. I can't believe what has just happened. Locking my front door behind me, the crazy adrenaline rush ends and I slump down, my limbs trembling as I slide down the wall.

I'm awake the rest of the night, every creak I hear sending me into overdrive. At one point I look out the kitchen window and see Orin at the edge of the backyard, and I dart back to the stove, away from visibility. When I carefully steal another look, he isn't there. Maybe he never was. At this point my mind tries to rationalize things. Maybe he is just into costuming, he seems pretty weird. Maybe he just has weird teeth. Maybe it was all my imagination, brought on by stress. After all, he simply looked sad when I freaked out. He didn't really try to stop me and he definitely didn't hurt me. And he had said before he didn't hurt people. A cold heavy ball in my stomach however lets me know that regardless of what rational brain thinks, lizard brain is afraid and has good reason to be. I am still sitting on my couch when the sun rises again. It felt safer here than in my bedroom, or maybe I just feel less vulnerable out of my bed.

Halloween dawns with a spectacular awakening of the sun, the pinks and oranges vibrant as sherbet. My tired eyes look blankly up at the display I'd call dazzling any other morning. Daybreak helps to lighten my mood just a bit, at least until a knock sounds at my door. I jump up, my first thought is excitement that Orin is here. I'm afraid but strangely also enthralled. He is probably some kind of bizarre gay sex demon who will eat me and devour my soul, but I find myself jogging to the door quickly anyway. Like I said, I need help.

When I throw it open however, it isn't Orin at all. Instead a grim-faced Joanne stands on my porch, not in costume for the first time this month. She looks at me with hard eyes, any trace of the goofy and sweet grandma type she usually is nowhere to be found. She leans forward and very audibly sniffs me. Recoiling, her lips draw up into a grimace. Her voice sounds nothing like the charming old bat I've gotten used to the last month when she grits out coldly

“It's done then. Pity.”

I stand there confused, because this is truly one of the more bizarre starts to a weekend. First, I get fucked hard and good by the guy I lust over, who may or may not be enhanced by either the supernatural or my own imagination, and now the geriatric neighborhood watch's prime lieutenant seems to be offended by my smell. I blush as I realize it's because I reek of sweat and cum.

Just when I gather my wits up to speak, Joanne raises a shaking hand to forestall me. With a sigh she states, “Stay inside today Steven. Better yet, leave here and get somewhere far away before nightfall and stay inside wherever you go. They hunt tonight.”

I blink stupidly, has she been binging a Twilight novel? This is unreal. I open my mouth to say as much, when Joanne hushes me. She glances quickly to the left, so I let my eyes look there as well.

Orin stands in the street, watching us both. He raises his head in a clear challenge, and while I sink happily into his gaze, I'm aware that Joanne is stiffening in fear beside me. She rushes off my porch and is gone back to her home, before I can ask her to clarify any of her weird instructions. Orin smiles at me, a sweetly hungry expression. I hesitate but then slam shut the door.

Sitting on my living room carpet, I am shaken and shaking. My brain is screaming at me to run, fly away from whatever this is. But every time my mind flashes to Orin I can't bear the thought of leaving him. I need to see him again soon. Just maybe not right now. I feel empowered yet I feel doomed.

And maybe that's why I don't take Joanne’s advice. I stay in my house all day. As late afternoon pokes fingers of dark into my windows, I shower and dress. I smile approvingly in the mirror at my choice of clothing. I know he is coming. Ten minutes later I'm rewarded by the doorbell. Walking across my house I see all the decisions I could have made, and maybe should have made, dancing before me. But what's done is done. I open the front door, and standing there with confidence is Orin, a smug smile on his lips.

“So, Steven. Are you mine?” he asks, his voice dropping to a sex saturated growl.

I take in his beautiful pale face, with his cheekbones and his red eyes. I register his stance, strong and firm. He exudes power and mystery and right now, trepidation. I look into his eyes and see the emotions warring. Orin adopts a tenser posture and a dangerous glint reaches his eye. I’m so terrified and turned on I can’t think of what to say. I merely look at him, bewilderment and lust written plainly on my face.

He looks down the sidewalk and shrugs. “She doesn't know as much as she thinks you know”.

“Oh,” is my elegant response.

I'm becoming nervous, and just when I nearly lose my cool, Orin touches my arm. It's soft and fleeting, but when it happens, I'm lost. I know that no matter who, or what, Orin is, I'll follow him forever. I put my hand on his and pull it to my mouth, kissing his palm. I stop and look at him, awaiting his next move. He grins and I can see a glimpse of his overly large and sharp canines. I should be scared, but apparently, I am a fool.

“What do you want Steven?” he asks, his eyes holding an intensity that tells me he means it to cover more than just right now. I'm not sure but intuition tells me my next words will be life changing. I choose them carefully.

“I want you Orin. I want all of you, your good, your bad and your secrets”. I look him in the eyes and command his attention before emphasizing the word secrets. Orin takes me into his arms and kisses me, in full view of everyone and their costumed cousin. The streets were filling with lots of holiday revelers.

“It's forever you know”, he whispers. “Mated for life”. His voice sounds so hesitant and unlike him. It was endearing and I embrace my bravado long enough to quip, “Forever begins with one day”.

I’m taken by surprise at the love in his voice when he murmurs into my ear, “You will never regret this. I swear”

My anxiety and fear melt away in his arms and with his scent surrounding me I admit I’m looking forward to commitment. My mind is long since made up, but he needs to know for sure.

“Come inside Orin. Make me yours.”

My words hang between us and he steps into the house after me. The door clicks shut. We stand together in silence. Suddenly he pulls me down to him, easily manhandling my larger body.

“With pleasure,” I hear and then his mouth is on my neck, biting deep, and everything including the brief pain fades to black. The last thing I hear while fear overtakes me is, “Don't worry Steven. I won't hurt you. Not tonight. Not ever.”