Witchful Thinking

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Looking beneath the surface.
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durablue
durablue
964 Followers

Thanks to sleeplessgurl and ~L for editing.

This is my entry in the Halloween Contest.

Copyright durablue October 2011

*

A small hand shaded the overly large dark sunglasses perched on Amber's small dainty nose. The sun's glare from the store-front was almost blinding in its intensity. Lips slicked with Chap Stick against the winter chill parted in a hiss when sneakered feet misjudged the curve of the sidewalk.

Her purse, cell phone and water bottle went flying as her arms wind-milled in an effort to not fall face first onto the cold sidewalk. Gales of mocking laughter drifted to her. Cringing, she bent down to pick up the things she'd dropped. Her sunglasses slipped down her nose, exposing eyes the color of dark chocolate.

Coming out the front door were three women in their mid-twenties. They were close to her age but that was all they had in common. They had perfectly shaped and evenly tanned bodies with long legs and perky tits. They were all tall with long, streaky hair blowing sexily in the late October breeze.

Jeez, do they have personal fans somewhere on them that blow their hair like some model on a fashion shoot?

She glanced at them again as they whispered about her. Of course they didn't have fans; women like that were graced by the Gods. Amber was willing to bet they could puke and still look drop-dead gorgeous while doing it. She was sorely tempted to throw her water bottle at them, but knowing her luck it would ricochet off the side of the building and hit her square in the forehead. With a sigh she gathered up her things and turned her back to them.

"Jerks," she mumbled under her breath as she trudged into the store to pick up her Halloween costume.

There was no point being a further source of amusement for them or, for that matter, feeling envious. If threatened with bodily harm Amber would admit to being on the short side. On a good day she might stand five feet tall if she stretched her spine. She didn't have a perfect figure either. She was what people called hippy, or if they were feeling generous, curvy.

"There's nothing wrong with curves," Amber reassured herself as she stepped up to the register. "So I'm not built like a coat hanger, so what."

Truth was if she so much as looked at cake or candy it added a pound to her ass and hips. Do not pass go or collect two hundred dollars. It just headed straight to the lower part of her body. It was a battle she had fought her whole life. Her breasts weren't overly large, a bit more than a handful but they did sit high on her chest.

Her hair was long, nearly down to the bra strap. But instead of the straight hair that was in fashion right now she had waves and waves of long strawberry blond curls that had a mind of their own and did whatever they wanted, which was the direct opposite of what she wanted. No matter how many times she tried to tame the curls back into a ponytail, the curls worked their way loose.

She had dreamed of having long dark hair and bedroom eyes that would beckon men to her. Instead she looked like a pixie. She blew a curl out of her face, trying to persuade the stray lock of hair to say where it should. Why didn't hers blow sexily around her face? And it still managed to get into her mouth while she waited on the sales clerk.

"Oh yes, that was sexy, spitting hair out of my mouth," Amber muttered as she rolled her eyes.

And what kind of cosmic joke was that shade of hair color anyway? It was neither red nor blond but some odd shade in-between. Her skin tone was what her mom used to call peaches and cream. Amber called it pain in the ass pale. She didn't tan, she burnt like a lobster. And freckles! Whose sick idea was that? She had them across her nose, her chest, her back... everywhere.

The store was packed with last minute shoppers, but finally a clerk showed up. Amber quickly showed her receipt for the costume she had ordered nearly two months ago. Her friends, Mac and Joan—two big Halloween nuts—were hosting a party at their house tonight.

"Ah, perfect," Amber said when the clerk, a male clerk this time, came back with it. "Is there somewhere I can try it on?"

"Right through here, Miss," the clerk said.

"Oh thank goodness."

She had to have the dress custom-made since she was... ah, vertically challenged. The black dress was simple in its cut, just a straight shift type dress but the material was silky. There was a slit up one side that exposed her leg and the length was supposed to be just above her knee.

The top had a V-neck to show off her bust. The dress had spider web patterns all through it and Amber had fallen in love with it from the start. It was a sexy witch's costume without being too revealing. Now she wanted to scream.

"Oh no, oh damn it, no," Amber said to her reflection. "It can't be too short. This can't be happening, not tonight of all nights!"

The dress was several inches too short and a bit too tight. It clung to every curve she had. It was cut up so high on one side you could see the bottom of her garter belt. And the party was in several hours. Amber yanked at her hair and tried to remember why yelling bloody murder in a dressing room on Halloween was not a good idea. There was no way she could find another costume this late.

"What am I going to do? It's so damn short! I can't wear this. Why does this always happen to me?"

Amber quickly stepped out and called the clerk who came hurrying. "Oh wow, Miss, it's hot! You'll blow them away tonight."

Amber snapped her mouth shut and did a double take. He thought she was... hot?

"You don't think it's too... short?"

"Absolutely not," he said, eyeing her legs with an appreciative smile.

Amber noticed that a couple of guys who had been dragged inside the shop by their girlfriends were staring, too. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she first thought. Amber put the witch's hat on and looked back into the full length mirror.

"If you... ah, if you happen to need a date for tonight I get off in a few hours," the clerk said.

"Aw, thank you, but I'm meeting friends. But really, you just made my night."

That, more than anything else, made up her mind. She was wearing that dress and she was going to feel great in it, short hem and all.

* * * *

Amber hurried home and took a bath. She curled her hair then proceeded to bribe, threaten and promise all sorts of things if it would only do what she wanted. The dress fit her like a glove and her skin glowed from her bath. Feeling daring, she used a body powder that had sparkles in it.

She dressed and drove to Mac and Joan's, where the party was being held. Amber parked on the street and walked around to the front the house. The first thing she noticed was the graveyard in the front yard.

One grave was flung open, and a partially decayed body was thrown over the side, trying to wiggle its way out of the casket. Another grave had skeletal hands digging their way up through the dirt, reaching for freedom. A limp body hung from a nearby tree with dead, vacant eyes. When people passed it the body shook and shrieked in death throes, as she found out.

"Good god!" Someone next to her on the sidewalk gasped.

Amber laughed slightly and patted the woman's back in front of her. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, it's just that Mac and Joan get crazier every year with all this stuff."

"It's fun though."

"Unless it's scaring the shit out of you," the woman laughed as they walked up to the house.

Battery-operated red eyes gleamed from the trees and ghoulish jack-o-lanterns sat on hay bales in the yard. A spider jumped and lunged whenever someone passed. A deformed cat hunched and hissed by the steps. Thick cob webs with deadly-looking spiders decorated the front porch. Creepy moaning screams drifted across the yard from outdoor speakers.

Amber walked up the steps and noticed the top step was still cracked. Joan had that on the list of things for Mac to fix. Looks like someone didn't get finished with his 'honey-do' list. Shaking her head, she made a mental note to remind her hostess about that step. Joan would freak if a guest actually got hurt during the party.

A skeleton sat on a bench and greeted people when they got to the front door with a loud awful yell. Big hairy rats with red eyes chewed on human remains. They were black as pitch and hopped around, fighting each other for food. Several ghosts twisted in the breeze. A fog machine blew a sinister smoke all over the yard.


"Good lord," Amber said as she opened the front door, admiring the elaborate spectacle.


The theme carried on inside. Misshapen monsters, silent as death, hid in dark corners with fake knives waiting to attack, cob webs covered every corner, and the same creepy music played inside, too. Electric candles lit up the place and lamps had black light bulbs in them. Snacks were placed throughout the main room.

Amber hesitantly investigated the food offerings. There were bowls of trail mix with candy spiders in them and chips and dip that looked like it had seen better days. A meat tray had what looked like bloody, hacked-off human fingers holding to the edge.

"Oh now, that's just gross," Amber said as she looked at the tray.

"Hacked them off myself just for you," Joan, the hostess, whispered evilly in Amber's ear.

"Oh good lord, you freak!" Amber giggled as she turned around to see Joan, her best friend. "Hey girl! And wow, love the costume. Let me guess... Joan of Arc?"

"With a name like Joan I just couldn't resist," Joan said as she hugged Amber. "Like the fingers, huh?"

"It's so you," Amber laughed. "Where in the world did you come up with that idea?"

"Here... it was in this," Joan said as she handed Amber a magazine. "Damn, gotta go, Mac is waving frantically at me for some reason. We might be getting low on blood and guts."

"Sick puppy; sick, sick puppy," Amber shook her head as Joan hurried off.

She moved over to a couch and sat down. She had a perfect view of the room. This was her favorite pastime... people watching. Several people stood around a boiling cauldron that served punch, laughing and joking as they taunted other people into drinking the boiling brew. Her eyes traveled over the bodies that moved through the shadows.

There were werewolves, Elviras, cat women, gladiators, and monsters of all sorts. Of course there were the bodies that weren't so in shape but still wore revealing costumes... fat bellies with faces drawn on them, hairy chests and backs framed perfectly in togas, and oh, man... one guy was in a wet suit. Amber shrugged; she respected them the most. They had flaws and were not afraid to show them. She still was trying to get to that place.

"Kind of like me," Amber said to a bat that zipped by overhead. "Not perfect by any means, just normal."

A few men asked her to dance, but she refused. Finally she got bored people-watching and picked up the magazine that Joan had pointed out. There on the cover were some of the things she had seen around the house along with the fingers. She was leafing through the magazine when the atmosphere in the room changed.

Energy crackled in the air and a wave of... tension, of desire, skimmed across the crowds, snagging everyone's attention. Even as deeply buried in the magazine as Amber was, she sensed the change that washed over the room. She raised her eyes, and scanned the crowds wondering what had caused the sudden shift in dynamics.

"Oh... my," she breathed once she spotted the reason.

Stepping through the front door was the sexiest man she had ever seen. Shoulder length jet black hair fell around his face. It was combed back from his forehead, and he had a widow's peak. His face was pale due to the Halloween make-up he was wearing. A strong, chiseled jaw with a five o'clock shadow hinted at strength.

Full lips that turned up in a slight grin from the reaction he caused caught her attention. Amber's thoughts turned inward as she wondered what those lips could do to a woman, and her breath sped up. He had pale icy blue eyes under black eyebrows and a perfectly straight nose. Those were bedroom eyes if she ever saw them.

An old-fashioned poet's shirt was opened enough to see a nice mat of dark hair. Tight black pants and a long cape finished the outfit. This was every female's vision of Dracula. Amber watched, along with the whole room, as this magnificent example of masculinity walked into the room. He was tall, but it was hard for Amber to judge height. Everyone she met was taller than her.

The whole room held its breath when he flicked the cape behind him. That shirt showed off every muscle he had. The sleeves draped upon wrists that had a sprinkle of hair and the tightness of the shirt showed off well-defined arms. Amber's eyes traveled down to what looked like a sculptured chest, to a distinct bulge; a sizable bulge.

"Heavenly day," Amber said as her eyes lingered south of the boarder.

Amber quickly jerked her eyes away and looked around the room. Several women were staring just as star-struck as she. Other women posed provocatively, breasts thrust up and backs arched. So much hair was being flipped over shoulders Amber was amazed some of those women didn't end up with whiplash.

And the guys were no better. Chests puffed out, stomachs were sucked in and if you listened closely you could hear the scream of several male egos as they died painful deaths when compared to the newcomer. They either admired the sculptured abs, muscular legs, hard pecs, or stared at him with hate-filled eyes. There were even a few pairs of male eyes that caressed that perfect body, and few sighs of unrequited lust.

A blond woman dressed as a cat walked over to the vampire. She sauntered across the room with clear intent and Amber rolled her eyes. Every woman in the room understood exactly what that walk meant. Cat Woman planned to have Mr. Vampire bagged and tagged before the next stupid horror song ended.

If she put any more swish in her walk she'd throw something out of joint. The blond held up an empty cup for the vampire to fill with punch. He grinned, flashed his fangs, filled the cup, and handed it to her. Then Mr. Vampire politely turned his back to her, leaving Cat Woman fuming.

"Ha! Shot ya down, didn't he?" Amber smirked as she watched Cat Woman storm off. "Bet she thinks he's gay now."

A guy pulled the same routine, and again the vampire did the same thing.

"Guess that answered that question," Amber chuckled as the disappointed guy walked away.

Everyone watched in stunned silence as the sexy vampire turned people down right and left.

"There ought to be a law against looking that good," Amber said. "He really should have a big hairy mole on his chin or a third nipple... something."

He scanned the room, a slight smirk on those gorgeous lips from all the attention. His eyes traveled across the room then finally crossed over to where she sat... and immediately his eyes snapped back to her. A slight smile crossed his face. He moved away from the punch bowl and walked toward... her?

No way. That was just wishful thinking.

Amber actually looked around her to see who the lucky person was that had caught this handsome man's attention. There wasn't a living soul sitting on the couch, only her. Amber's mouth dropped open as the sexy vampire walked straight up to her.

Holy Mother of God.

Her eyes traveled up muscular legs and across a nicely toned chest up to icy blue eyes... and fangs.

"Good evening," he said softly as he looked down at her, "my sexy little witch."

Sexy? Amber shivered and she had to fight to keep her lips from twitching and her mouth from dropping open. His voice was deep, husky, and wickedly sinful. Her toes curled. Oh that voice alone could make her do all sorts of witchy things. This guy could give Vin Diesel a run for his money in the voice department, and heaven help her, what an accent! He sounded like a Transylvanian.

"Hi," Amber squeaked, then her eyes widened. Now that was sexy, wasn't it? Who found a squeaky voice alluring?

For one horrible moment Amber wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. Could she be any more of a loser? A flush covered her cheeks. Damn pale skin, there was no hiding the spread of redness across her face as she blushed.

Amber cleared her throat and prayed this time her voice got with the program. "Um, hi."

"May I join you?" he asked then sat down.

"Ah, well... Ah, okay go right on ahead," Amber said. What else could she say?

She was amazed at how much room his big body took up on the couch. He was sitting so close she could feel the heat off his body. And his scent. He smelled of sandalwood and musk. She was doing her best not to pant with excitement.

He stared at the room for a few minutes before facing Amber. "Hmm, more of a kitten I think."

"W-what?"

"I think I'll call you kitten," he said, then turned his head to look at Amber. "You were staring at me."

Amber knew her skin was burning red once more.

"Well, me and everyone else here."

"Ah, but it was your eyes I felt on me," he replied as his eyes drifted down. "Your nipples are hard for me, my lovely little kitten. Such pretty points standing up begging for my attention. Should I indulge what they are asking for so nicely?"

Amber dropped the magazine and sat frozen, trembling with desire that uncoiled and rushed through her body only to pool in a throbbing ache between her legs. Tingles raced through her system as she fought for breath. She found herself leaning into him when she should be slapping the crap out of him for what he said.

She couldn't believe that he just up and said that, and what was more, she couldn't believe she wanted to hear more! She ached to feel those strong hands caress her arms, her neck and other places. What was happening to her? Her whole body shook from her toes up. A small moan escaped from her lips.

"Oh my..." Amber whispered, "god."

"Not god, he has no place here," he said and that accent washed over her.

Amber swallowed a whimper as he reached in between her legs to where she had dropped the magazine. His finger tips brushed against her inner thigh. Her short dress had ridden up until the top of her garter belt with the little black bow showed. The heat from his touch scorched her leg and Amber found herself squirming. Dear lord, she was getting wet from a simple touch and that smoky voice of his.

"Interesting," he said then dropped the magazine onto the table as his finger traced up her leg.

"Um... yes," Amber said as chill bumps broke out all over her legs. What were they talking about?

She had never done anything like this; had never picked a guy up in her entire life. Her body hummed with desire for this sexy man, and she still couldn't believe he had picked her to talk to, and from the sounds of it, planned to do more than talk.

Could she do this?

"Such a pretty color, so vivid and interesting," he said as he lifted an errant curl off her shoulder. "I find this shade so sexy; it's neither red nor yellow but a golden blend of the two that hints of the fire and spice such colors are known for. Very lovely, kitten."

Heat flooded her body at his words. She damn well could do this.

"My-my name isn't—"

"Shhh, I like that name. I plan on making you purr for me... later."

"Oh... goodness."

"Eyes the color of the richest dark chocolates; so delicious dark chocolate," he said as he leaned into her and nipped a delicate ear, "and a favorite of mine. Good chocolate should be savored, rolled around on the tongue so the richness explodes in your mouth."

Oh, he was good, she'd give him that.

"I like a good, creamy chocolate that I can let melt in my mouth and trickle down my throat."

Amber let a low moan escape as his thumb traced her lips.

durablue
durablue
964 Followers
12