Happy Haunting #4
Molly sinks onto the plush spa massage mattress that has an almost terry-cloth-like texture to its washable pink cover, struggling out of the dress as she does so. “What spa treatment do you recommend?”
“Well, first, I’d like to write you a letter of recommendation. That treatment was divine,” I shakily get to my knees, “and then I’d recommend some rest and rejuvenation for your muscles. You used them so sweetly in the service of your patient.”
“Write a letter? Toby, not now,” Molly laughs, caressing my arm.
I pick up the body butter and undo the lid. Chocolate wafts through the air. Molly makes a hungry sound that’s usually reserved for the brownie sundae at The River House.
“But you haven’t seen my new ink, love,” I whisper, and pull a healthy amount onto my finger.
I’M TOBY’S CANVAS. No part of me is spared from his ink in the form of smooth, rich chocolate fluff. “She is the best,” he says, scrawling words slowly on my chest, working over my breasts. He dots my nipples with generous, silky dollops. “Must dot every ‘i’, cross every ‘t’,” he smirks.
The letter continues across my ribcage and down to my bare, newly shaved skin.
“I love her. Her work was ex—” Toby has to pause to keep the frosting-like body butter flowing with his words, “excellent. I would come again. And again. And again. Nurse Wifey gets an—,” he parts my legs, and I gasp as he leaves a thick smear down each outer lip, “an 11 out of 10.” Toby writes these last two numbers on my inner thigh.
“This is supposed to leave the skin soft and slightly exfoliated. Like a sugar scrub. But it shouldn’t sit on for too long.
I hear sugar in certain places can cause all kinds of problems. Don’t worry.
I’ve been trained by the best in the medical profession,” Toby says in all seriousness, and then proceeds to start licking every single trace off, starting with my pussy.
“Ohh. Oh, Toby,” I gasp as his tongue cleaves me in two, splitting my wet pussy apart.
I was so close to coming earlier, but I didn’t, and he knows that.
His fingers replace his tongue while he finishes cleaning me off, using his reaper tongue now, a thick, swirling tentacle of muscle that feels like a massage on every inch it touches.
And while his tongue is at work, so are his fingers, diving in and out of me at the pace I like, reaching to that secret, deep space inside as I hump his hand hungrily.
“I love you, Moll. I wanted to give you the happiest Halloween,” Toby whispers into my skin, mouth at my neck.
Our mouths fuse, and his fingers leave me. His cock takes their place, but his hand stays down low, working my throbbing clit as I open around him again.
“I’m so, so happy. We can go to the ball next year. Or not,” I whisper, groaning when he drives in deep, my walls surrendering every inch. “Because I love this spa. I want to come back.”
“I just want you to come. Period.”
“Oh, I will, I will,” I gasp, already feeling the satisfaction I was denied earlier resurfacing, sharpening. I bite down on his shoulder. “But I still think this place should have a name. It might become one of our favorite after-work haunts, don’t you think?” I ask, eyes closing, pussy tightening.
Toby doesn’t stop. He doubles his pace, triples it, using every reaper trick he owns. “Well, I have the perfect name for it, baby,” he growls, hips flying.
I’m flying. I’m on some orgasmic cosmic cloud as everything bursts inside. Wetness shoots out from my pussy as his cock erupts inside of me. “Ohhh! Oh, fuck, Toby, yes!” I screech.
“Mm. Ungh! Ungh, that’s... That’s perfect. That’s wonderful, Moll,” Toby praises, collapsing onto me.
We hug, holding each other tight, wrapped in warmth, tingles, and the aroma of pumpkin spice and chocolate.
“Officially the best spa day ever,” I gasp once my lungs work again.
“Don’t tell your friends. Happy Haunting is just for us.”
“Happy Haunting? That’s the name?”
“If you like it,” Toby looks up at me. “I thought... Because of Halloween, and it becoming a regular haunt, and... And I don’t know. I suppose it’s silly.”
“I think it’s brilliant. Just like my husband, who happens to be the owner of Happy Haunting,” I say firmly, kissing his sweating brow. “Um. Hey?”
“What, love?”
“Does this spa have any other treatments you’d recommend?”
Toby slowly glides down my body, a wicked, crooked grin on his face. “We have something we like to call the ‘Perfectly Pink Massage,’ which can be completed when madam is empty or full. Cream filling is extra and must be applied by the spa staff first.”
“You are the kinkiest, sweetest Halloween surprise, Toby,” I moan in delight.
“Oh, good. I’m counting on you to write me a five-star review later.” He settles between my thighs and bats the half-empty jar of chocolate body butter into my hands.
I look down at the beautiful, pale, muscular canvas where my words will go—after he’s done sending me over the edge again— and at the mouth already gently cupping my pussy with a reverent sigh.
“Oh, yes, sir. I will. Here’s to Happy Haunting, baby.”
“Happy Haunting,” Toby says. At least, I think that’s what he said—his mouth was full.
Not that I’m complaining.