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Subject: {ASSM} Trick or Treat
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Date: Wed, 30 Sep 2015 12:10:01 -0400
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Trick  or Treat (FMBeast?)
 
It  was a dark and rainy night.  Nah.  That isn't the way the story  went.  
It was a cold and windy autumn night.  Leaves were swirling in  dust 
devils, crackling to the ground.  The neighborhood filled with   ghosts, and 
witches and scarecrows adorning houses and lawns.  All along  the streets goblins 
and assorted costumed kids were running and  yelling.
The young honeyhaired woman stepped out of her SUV.  Grabbing an armful of  
bags she strode across the lawn to the front door.  The security light  
kicks on and illuminates the house and front yard.  Fumbling for her keys,  
bags fall to the porch.  Opening the door, she grabs the bags and deposits  
them on the dining room table.  
A shiver and goosebumps raise on her arms.  Should have worn the coat  
instead of carrying it on the arm.  Another load of plastic bags fills her  
arms.  Looking down the street, she sees a dog costume; but so  realistic.  A 
giant mastiff.  All sorts of scary beings and  professions are represented by 
the myriad of kids and adults.
Tit tatting across the driveway and walkway, her heels clicking, loudly in 
the  night.  Another load of bags deposited on the table and a sigh of  
relief.  The stress of work, forgotten for the moment, as the woman grabs a  
large bowl from the kitchen and deposits bag after bag of candy in the  bowl.  
Brrrring.  The doorbell.  A ballerina and Darth Vadar, her  first two 
customers.  
Quickly running up the stairs, shoes clicking across the natural wood 
floors and  steps, the woman kicks her shoes to a corner.   Unbuttoning her 
blouse  it falls to the carpeted bedroom floor.  Next her skirt puddles around 
her  feet.  Sitting back on the bed, a sigh, as she rolls her pantyhose down 
and  off her legs.  Standing, she stretches and enjoys the freedom of 
unhibited  flesh.  Just a coral bra and thong her only clothing.  Brrring.   Again 
the doorbell.  Pulling a Jets sweatshirt from a drawer, over her  head.  And 
then a non-descript grey sweatpants and slippers and down the  stairs.  
Brrring.  Customers impatient as she opens the door to  deposited goodies to 
the hobgoblins.
Turning the lights inside out, candles the only illumination, and the music 
 of Godsmack,  setting the holiday decor.  A hot cup of chocolate, takes 
away the chill,  as feet tucked underneath, she enjoys the freedom of work 
being over.   Again and again the doorbell rings, with assorted kids and 
parents in  costume.
At 9, she turns off the outside light.  Trice she has filled the bowl with  
candies.  It was a good night.  The pumkin still sitting in the  window, 
looking out on the street.  Eyes and nose and mouth flickering with  the 
candle inside.  A sigh or relief that now she can finally really relax  and enjoy 
the rest of the evening.
Metallica now playing on the stereo.  The woman pads up the stairs of her  
old house.  Wide stairwells and large rooms.  Reaching the bedroom,  she 
pulls the sweatshirt over her head and deposits it in the pile of work  
clothes.  Sweatpants quickly follow.  As her bra joins the pile, her  breasts, 
still firm, even though she be in her thirties, sway slightly as she  let her 
thong fall to her feet.  The nipples semi-hard with the coolness of  the room. 
 Well toned legs compliment the woman.  Just a wisp of pubic  hair above 
the juncture of her lips.  Carrying her slippers, she runs to  the bathroom.  
Turning on light and vent, she closes the door.   Turning on the shower, 
adjusting to warm/hot, the blasts of droplets melt the  tiredness from the 
muscles of her back.  A long sigh, as she stands the  whipping of the spray.  
Turning towards the shower head, the water assails her face and then neck, 
as  she adjust the head to her breasts.  Soapy fingers circle the  round  
globes.  Then a tingle as the fingers pinch, oh so lightly at the turgid  
nipples.  Hardening to her touch, a flash of pleasure and then the fingers  
trail soap down her flat belly.  Fingers twirling the small patch of hair  and 
then rubbing at the lips, swelling to the touch.  Fingers now probing  the 
slit, and then legs spreading to accomadate the fingers.
Eyes and mouth closed, nostrils flaring to the touch and probing of her  
digets.  Bosum heaving as one hand caresses her teat, while the other  
massages her lower lips, pushing at the hardness of her clit.
Brrrring, brrrring.  The doorbell interupts the pleasurable reverie.   
Distracted, the woman finished soaping and rinsing.  The toweling quick and  
firm, leaves her body flush and warm.  Taking a forest green satin robe,  that 
hangs to her knees, she belts it and pads down the stairs.
Metallica is still playing in the background, as the young woman opens the  
liquor cabinet and takes out an unopened bottle of white Zinfandel.   
Pulling the cork, she pours it into a long stemmed glass and gently swishes it  
around.  A sip and a contented sigh.  Walking over to the couch, she  curls 
up, feet underneath and wraps a throw around her lap.  The  flilckering 
candles make interesting shapes on the walls and ceiling.  Sort  of like the way 
Xmas lights give the room a special glow.  A second glass  of wine and she 
is mellow, eyes closing to almost shut, the warmth of the wine  seeping deep 
into her body.
Getting up to make a pee call, she checks the front door and locks it.  The 
 room is chilly; but a third glass of wine and she is almost asleep.  The  
relaxation is almost total.  The aromatics of the candles lulling her eyes  
closed.  The music a light ballad from Metallica.  Enter  Sandman.   It 
would be so nice to not have to go up to bed.  The woman's right hand,  cupping 
her mons, lightly stroking at her lips.  The feeling of well being  so 
comforting.  
In the corner by the doorway to the dining room, a shadow.  Then it  
resolves into a giant dog, standing, eyes fixed staring at the woman.  The  wine 
is going to my head, she thought, screwing her eyes shut.  Head  spinning a 
little, she opened her eyes and the dog still stood observing  her.     
Woozy, she sits up.  Focusing on the doorway, nothing there  she  slides 
off the couch and stumbles falling flat on the floor.  Raising onto  her hands 
and knees, she feels a weight on her back, pushing her head to the  floor, 
arms buckling under her.  Warm fur tickles her back and ass  cheeks.  Her 
robe is pushed up along her shoulder blades.  She feels  the fur along the 
inside of her legs, pushing her legs apart.  Furry arms  or paws wrap around 
her waist, keeping her pushed head to the hard wood  floor.  Panic is in her 
numb head and quickly beating heart.
Then she feels a prodding member at her inner thighs, and then the 
something  pushing at and then between her lips.  Slowly it sinks into her pussy,  
moist from her toying fingers.  She can felt the tickling hairs against her  
soft sensitive tissue of her thighs.  The penis is trobbing in her  pussy.  
Buried as the paws pull her cheeks tight against the warm  body.  Now the 
penis is withdrawn and quickly pushed in again.  The  thrusting is strong and 
steady.  Oops.  It pulls all the way out and  stabs at a lip.  Quickly it 
pushs deep again into her womb.
The woman lays there not knowing what is happening.  Is this a dog, or a  
man or something in between.  The reflex to scream buried deep in her  
throat.  The thing is now pawing at her right breast.  Grasping it and  stroking 
at the nipple, swollen and stiff.  The beast is still pumping at  her now 
swollen lips.  Her pussy is wet, and in spite of herself, her ass  is pushing 
to meet the strokes.  Muscles seeking to clamp down on the hard  member deep 
in her vagina.  The paw that was playing with her breast, is  now fumbling 
at her hard clit.  Rubbing, the hairy paw, seems almost to be  pinching at it.
Panting from the intruder and exhalations from the young woman, and the 
slap of  flesh and the exquisite swishing of organs, the only sounds in the 
room.   Somewhere Metallica kicked off.  A macabre dance of pleasure, casting  
shadows flickering on walls and ceiling.  The woman head spinning barely  
notices the quickening of the strokes as the beast empties seed into her moist 
 grotto.  Still on her knees head to floor, thw woman thrusts her body back 
 to meet the slowing thrusts.
She can feel the wet lips of the beast on her back, head resting, body 
still  tight to hers.  Sliding one hand back, she feels the softening penis.   
It feels like a mans; but what does the penis of a dog feel like.  Hot with  
need, the woman strokes at the wilting flesh.  Pulling and stroking, it  
starts to stiffen and elongate again.  What am I doing, the clouded mind of  
the girl thinks.  As it is now again hard and ready, her fingering tickling  
the head of the organ, the furry body pulls back and then pushes into her 
moist  pussy.  Legs are now cramping from the unnatural position, but the penis 
 stroking in and out brings muscles to grasp at the member.  
A long stroke out and the member is free, pushing back quickly, it rams up 
and  pushes at the small ring of the woman's ass.  The need to find a hole, 
adds  momentum to the pushing and the young woman, moans as the head pushs 
into her  ass.  Inch by slow inch it is swallowed till the balls are slapping 
against  her pussy lips.  A whimper and then a rhythm of strokes pound into 
the  accomdating hole.  The woman now moaning with the need for release and 
the  pleasure of the filled orifice.  The ring tightens on the invading 
flesh  and squeezes at the sausage of meat.  OHHHHHHH.  Lips relase a long  cry 
of pleasure.  Spasm after spasm as the woman comes, rubbery legs ready  to 
collapse if not for the steadying paw.  
Unconcious the woman slowly rolls over to lie on her side on the floor.   
Unmoving.  The beast pads out to the kitchen and in a corner by the sink,  
cleans his organ.  At last satisfied, he pads by to the woman lying on her  
side, and with a paw rolls her over onto her back.  Pushing her legs apart,  
his long tongue, rolls out and licks at her slack lips.  The taste of cum  
and pussy juice strong.  As he laps at her pussy, pushing his tongue deeply  
into her hole, his penis elongates.  Her legs move slightly to the lapping  
and sucking mouth.  Looking quizzically at the young woman, the beast seems  
at a loss.  Cock sticking out of the mat of hair, he gazes at the woman,  
then padding around to where her head is, he pushs his cock against her  lips. 
  Not an easy position.  Parting the lips, the penis slides  into her wet 
mouth.  Leaning over his tongue again licks and sucks at her  pussy and then 
her clit.  
The woman's lips close around the cock.  Tongue and mouth suck at the slick 
 organ.  Slurping and licking the only sounds.  The woman's thighs  
clenching at the mouth paying homage to her pussy.  Raising her thighs,  they close 
on the animal head, holding it to her mons.  Her lips sucking at  the 
swollen penis,  tongue licking at the raised vein in the  cock.   The organ 
thickened and then a spurt of juice fills the womans  mouth.  A couple of coughs 
and then she swallows the fluids.  Arms  still lying at her sides, her 
thighs squeeze at the furry head, as her pussy  convulves.  Legs slowly relax and 
fall slack to the sides.
The woman, still unaware of her surrounding, is cleaned of fluids by the  
beast.  Gently, he settles her on the floor, pulling the throw over her  
body.  A lick across her lips and he disappears into the night.

Head throbbing, in the morning, the woman wakes to find herself lying on 
the  floor.  A single candle still flickering.  It is still dark  outside.  
Laying still, trying to remember, and then a flash of  memory.  A dog, big and 
furry.  "Oh my god", did I have sex with a  dog?  Where are my dreams 
taking me?  Was it real or just a dream  brought on by too much alcohol?  There 
are pains all over my body.   Are they from falling off the sofa and rolling 
or was I assaulted?  My ass  and pussy feel like they were used.  There is a 
pain in my back.   Rolling over she finds the lifelike vibrator that 
sometimes brings relief.   That might explain the areas of pain and use.
Work was a thing missed this day, as the young woman called in sick.  The  
morning was just a steady headache.  The pains receded with rest and  
aspirin.
Brrring.  The damn doorbell.  It was only Rusty, her beau.   Oh.  I'm 
fixing dinner tonight for his birthday.  Going down to the  basement, Rusty got a 
package and took it to his truck.  Looked like a dead  animal with the fur 
sticking out!!!!!
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