I sat at my computer, opened a blank document and began to type my letter. I’d been meaning to get this down for years, but the timing never felt right and I think I’ve been a little nervous about writing it down.
‘How do I tell this story without sounding crazy?’ I thought reading the Dear over and over. ‘I just need to type it all out and then take out the inappropriate parts.’
I looked up and stared at the blank wall across from me then closed my eyes. The last Halloween that I didn’t celebrate came rushing back. I could see myself closing all the curtains, turning off all the lights and gathering a bottle of wine. I watched the events unfold behind my eyelids.
“I hate this time of year,” I said under my breath as I looked out the curtains at the darkening evening.
With the light dimming outside, the curtains drawn tightly closed and all but one light turned off I hoped to deter all the children begging for treats. I’ve always hated Halloween with all the myths and untruths involved. I’m not a religious nut, far from it actually. I know a bit about many religions but ascribe to none. You see in my job the facts are paramount. I’ve been a historical researcher for a few years so facts are my life and how we celebrate Halloween is fiction. So I just don’t like Halloween and choose to avoid playing into the make believe and hand out candy.
“Let’s see,” I said looking down at the couch, “do I have everything?” I scanned the area, taking note of what was assembled, “Wine, book, chocolates and my notebook. Everything is set.”
I sat in the reclining seat, set it back and wrapped the blanket around my bare legs. Since the house was closed up the chill would linger and in my sheer nightgown I would be cold without the blanket. I took a sip of the white wine and picked up my book and began to read.
Only once was I interrupted by a tapping on the door, preceded by the giggling of a couple of girls. I ignored them and smiled as I heard their receding foot steps. This was better then previous years so I relaxed as the night waned. Just as I finished a chapter and was thinking of going to bed I heard heavy foot steps and a hard knocking on the door. The silhouette in the doorway was taller than a child and I huffed as I stood.
I shook my head and wrapped the blanket around my shoulders as I approached the door. I peeked out the curtains to see a young man of mid-twenties. I looked down and there were no costumed children with him so I sighed and opened the door.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Oh, good someone is at home,” he said in a deep, calm voice. “Madam I was wondering if I could trouble you for a glass of water?”
I was thrown off by the lilt of his voice and his manner of speech, but oddly comforted so, against my internal warnings, I opened the door and said, “Come in.”
“Thank you, Madam.”
He stepped into the still dark house and I flipped on the light. We both blinked, letting our eyes adjust, and I could see he was dressed in what looked like a 1930’s style worker with the denim overalls, white button up shirt, tattered hat and worn brown shoes. ‘He must have been at a party,’ I thought.
“Nice costume,” I said turning to the kitchen, “very authentic.”
“Ah, yes, thank you Madam.”
“My name is Anne,” I stated wanting him to stop calling me ‘Madam.’
“My name is Bernard, but I go by Bernie,” he said as I handed him the glass of water,
“Nice to meet you Bernie, are you new to the area?” I asked wanting to be polite.
“Oh, no I’ve been around a good bit,” he said with a smile.
“Would you like to have a seat?”
“That would be wonderful, thank you Ma-Miss Anne,” he said smiling.
We talked as he slowly drank his water and I couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasy in the pit of my stomach. He was overly polite and seeing in his malnourished and frail state I felt at ease with him. Even after he had finished his water I kept talking with him and ignored my gut.
Bernie told me he was from the area, but not from anywhere in particular. He said that he was a laborer, like his costume, but had troubles finding work lately. I found myself so calm with him I told him about my life and the trouble I’ve had over the past few years. He assured me that only good was to come my way in the future and I felt a chill.
“I hope to find a better place soon,” he said cryptically.
I frowned and sighed, “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
He looked down and said, “I do not,” sounding ashamed.
I shook my head not believing I was going to say it and said, “I have a spare bedroom and you can stay there tonight.”
“That is most kind, Miss Anne, thank you,” he said bowing his head to me.
I showed him the bathroom and grabbed an extra blanket for him before showing him the spare bedroom. He thanked me so many times I began to think it was my name. His politeness and dress made me feel slightly off, but also calmed me. I didn’t think he would hurt or rob me.
“Good night, Bernie,” I said turning from the doorway.
“Good night, Miss Anne,” he said softly.
I picked up my book and wine glass as I passed the couch and deposited the glass in the sink. I turned off the light and went to my bedroom. I closed the door to my room and turned down the bed. Just as I clicked the light off I heard footstep just outside my door. I stood still and listened. Nothing. There was no noise. I shook off my worry and crawled into bed. Just as my eyes closed there was a light tap at the door.
“Miss Anne,” Bernie said, “may I enter?”
“What is it Bernie?” I asked annoyed at him.
“I-I was wondering if I could, well, ask you why you are allowing me to stay here?” he stammered.
I sat up and turned on my lamp as I said, “Come in Bernie.”
He opened the door and entered. His overalls were unfastened letting the straps dangle at his sides and his shirt was unbuttoned exposing a good bit of his chest. ‘Wow is he pale,I thought as he stood in the doorway with his head down wringing his hands.
“Come sit,” I said patting the bed.
“Thank you, Miss Anne,” he said and sat.
I told him that I felt he needed a hand and I was able to offer that to him. He nodded as I spoke, and smiled when I said that this seemed a good opportunity to repay what others had done for me.
“I am sorry you had troubles, Miss Anne,” he said looking up at me with his dark green eyes barely showing under his dark hair.
“It was along time ago,” I said.
Bernie touched my hand and a shiver ran up my spine. I stared down at my hand and when he asked if he could kiss me all I could do was nod my head. I didn’t understand why I nodded my head, but my body wanted him to kiss me even with my mind screaming. It was as if his touch awaken a sleeping part of me and locked my reasoning mind away.
His lips were as cool as his hand, but soft and gentle. I didn’t move, but didn’t resist when the kiss grew in passion. Before I could stop them my hands rested on his bare chest and began to slip his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms.
He stood and walked around the bed removing his shirt and sliding his overalls down watching me with his green eyes. I forced myself to breathe deeply because all I could think about was him. My body felt stiff and rooted to the bed. As he rounded the bed he put his hand under the covers and touched my bare leg shuddering my breath and leaving a trail of ice along my skin. The room faded to only him and my desire to warm him.
When his hand reached the hem of my nightgown he asked, “May I see you?”
I nodded, unable to speak, and watched him raise the covers tossing them aside. He lifted my nightgown slowly to my waist exposing my cotton panties. When he didn’t touch me intimately I frowned, but gasped when he grabbed my sides with his calloused frigid hands and lifted my middle as he knelt between my legs. I expected him to lower my panties, but as his chilled hands lightly touched my belly I squirmed. He grabbed my hips tightly and I looked at him with my eyes wide, a gasp etched on my face.
“You are so beautiful, my sweet Anne,” he said and I felt his passion in each word. “Tell me that I may have your body this night.”
I nodded, all my words lost to me.
“Tell me I may have you my sweet Anne,” he said again lowering his face and piercing me with his eyes.
“Yes, Bernie, you may have me,” I said hoarsely.
His eyes fluttered and as he tilted his head back he let out a deep breath saying, “Thank you.”
In what seemed to be a moment he had his overalls off and had removed my panties. He stared down at me scanning with his eyes and smiled. I returned the smile and my only thought was for him. When his thumbs pressed against my warm lips I shivered and broke out in goosebumps.
Bernie smiled as he leaned down, pushing my nightie up and exposing my breasts. He stared down at them before kissing each standing nipple. I lifted my head and shoulders letting him remove the last of my clothes. Normally laying naked with an also naked man would be unnerving to me, but I only felt calm, wanton desire for this man I didn’t know.
Before I could stop myself I said, “I want you, I need you, please Bernie, oh, please.”
He leaned in and I thought he would kiss me, but said, “For your kindness I will give you all that you desire, my sweet Anne,” then passionately kissed me.
He spread my legs and I could feel his head against me just seconds before he entered me. My head rolled back, breaking our kiss, and I moaned loudly. All my blood and warmth rushed to my middle and fought with the coldness of him. Bernie held himself deep inside me, letting me dance my hips around him and use him to my pleasure. It had been so long since I felt a man inside me that every cell in my body went into overdrive. I shook and shuddered as the instant orgasm waved around me and he remained still.
When I looked up at him he smiled and said, “Now, my sweet Anne, you are ready for me. Do you accept my gift to you?”
At that moment I would’ve said yes to giving him my life, but just breathed out, “Yes.”
“Then I shall give you all that I have.”
I had a momentary thought of ‘All that you have?’ but he silenced my question by swiftly pulling back and plunging deep again. With stroke after stroke embedded deep inside me I moaned and shivered as he probed my depths and squeezed my excited breasts. He pulled the strings of my being each time he delivered a hard deep blow and opened me up more to him. Just as I felt the last of my will leave me I felt his rhythm falter and heard him breathing heavily. He groaned loudly, scooped up my legs then fell upon me. While he crushed me into the bed his pace hastened and I breathed in quick pants. Lust, pleasure, desire and animal instinct over took me and with each of his hard thrusts he pushed me closer and closer to ecstasy.
“Anne,” he shouted as he gave one last hard push and we toppled over the edge and into the abyss.
I groaned and quivered under him, shaking anew with each spurt he released inside me. He breathed heavily in my ear, as I did in his, and I could feel warmth from him for the first time. There was a chill to my skin when he rose up on one arm, and looked down at me. I felt his icy finger move a lock of my hair from my face as I smiled up at him. My contented smiled turned to a frown and I pushed out my bottom lip when he started to pull out of me. Quickly I wrapped my legs around him.
“You desire more, my sweet Anne?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said softly.
“Then you shall have more,” he said leaning in to kiss me, reinserting himself fully.
My weakened body, sore muscles and drained energy didn’t afford me any ability to participate physically; but I sang for him. Not showing any signs of tiredness or fatigue he played me like an orchestra conductor. His measured, full penetrations into my sensitive insides served as the cadence keeping us on the same page and with our combined sounds we added a hint of woodwinds. As he kept the steady time he brought about the strings and brought me screaming to crescendo, but failed to direct the coda. He slowed and I thought he might give me release, but this was just the second movement of his concerto. The slow, full and caressing entrances into me elicited shattered breathes laced with broken moans caught half way in my throat. His cool fingers embarrassed my sides as he pulled my body tighter to him and paused, dramatically, at the end of me bringing more convulsing and wavering breath. I looked up at him, unable to speak, and pleaded with my eyes to end this delicious torture. With a smile, he swiftly led into the finale.