Moving Day

"It might have been more often were it not for the superintendent," he remembered. "Somebody had actually made a complaint about noise..." His grin was memorable.

Old as she was, she still blushed at the memory. "... from this very room, I think, James! I always thought it was Miss Oliphant across the hallway, that dried-up, horrid..."

"Hush, dear," James said, holding up his hand. "Outliving your critics is the best revenge. Esme Oliphant went to her grave alone and unmourned but for the landlord to whom she owed rent, while we still were..." He nodded to the enthusiastic couple on the kitchen counter. Turning towards her, he smiled at his wife, raised one eyebrow.

A series of joyous cries reached them from below. The two peered forward to see the young couple clasping each other in a rock-solid embrace, Tom's hips moving back and forth very slowly. Eventually, he pulled out, his softening cock glistening in the light, then cuddled the girl to his side.

"Honey," Sasha said, "Did you hear something, just then?" She reached down and lovingly clasped his balls.

"Angel choirs, fireworks and sirens," he said, sleepily.

"No, silly, I mean did you hear somebody talking?"

Tom's eyes opened. He frowned for a second, then, "Maybe. I don't know." He paused. "Probably somebody in the next apartment." He closed his eyes. His hand cupped a sweet, youthful buttock, relaxed slowly.

"Oh." With that, she relaxed in his arms as he carried her to their bed.

"Tom, honey?" Sasha asked later.

"Mmm?"

"I've been thinking about those voices."

"And...?"

"You'll think I'm weird."

He was silent in the darkness beside her.

"Tommy, it felt like we had an audience."

"A what?"

"Like we were on stage, in front of an applauding, appreciative audience. Is that sick?"

"Um, I don't think so. You're the star of my show, hon." He ran his hand up one firm thigh, held her by the waist.

"Well, remember when we talked about fantasies?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And you said I was pretty enough to show to the world, nude? Paraded in public on a leash?"

"Oh, yes!"

She could feel him hardening between them.

"I think I can understand it better now. It's like... like I'm realizing how great I look for the first time. Would that be kink, to be proud to be seen making love with you?"

The boy thought for a bit. "No, I don't think so. It might be kinky to actually do it, but... Oh, hell, Sash, I've never met a woman as pretty as you. I can't believe you settled for me and I'm torn between being jealous when another man even sees you when we're out shopping and wanting to feed my ego by showing the world how beautiful a wife I'm managed to catch. Does that make any sense?"

It was her turn to be quiet. Then, softly, "I think so."

"But you think there's somebody's watching here?

"It feels like it, sometimes. I know the curtains are closed, but it still feels like it, somehow."

"And that turns you on?"

She felt herself blush in the darkness, bit her lip. "Uh-huh. A little."

One gentle hand ran up her stomach, cupped a breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple and she shivered.

"Well, then, let's give the audience what they paid for, Sash."

Above them Miranda turned to James, triumph on her face. "See! I told you they'd heard us."

James didn't turn away from the scene below. "Or sensed us, dear. Some people are like that. In any case, it doesn't seem to have discouraged them."

Miranda just humphed. She gave a small gasp when the girl pulled out of Tom's embrace, pushed him hard so that he fell on his back on the sofa.

"It's my turn, Tommy. My turn. Today I get to make love to you."

"But..."

"Hush, lover." She held a forefinger over his lips. "Not a word, or Mama spank."

His eyebrows went up, but he lay back.

James took a quick look at the slim figure standing beside him. Miranda's eyes were riveted to the girl below. He smiled when he saw his wife's nostrils flare. You might be getting deaf, Jimmy, he thought to himself, but your eyesight's still pretty good.

He turned back to see Sasha licking her way up the boy's legs with a broad tongue, slowly but firmly. When she came near his groin on one leg, she began again on the other ankle. Her husband was lying quietly, his eyes closed, a faint smile on his lips.

Sasha licked around either side of his now half-hard length, rolling it from side to side as it inflated. Her tongue continued up his stomach to linger on his nipples. His smile broadened a little, then a lot as soft fingers began rolling his balls.

"I do love you, Sash," he said. "You treat me so well."

She lifted her mouth up. "Shhh."

Not letting go of his now-tight sack and its contents, she shifted her mouth to kiss his lips, ground his lips hard. His eyes opened to see hers staring at them.

She parted her lips again to murmur, "I like to please you, Mr. McKinley. It's fun."

Again she bent towards him, slim fingers fondling and stretching below.

"She's so bold, James!" Miranda said softly. She turned to look up at him. "Did... did you like me being, um... adventurous?"

His smile beamed at her. "Oh, yes, my darling lady. Oh, yes! Every man who isn't insecure loves experimenting, loves his woman to enjoy herself. Did you never notice?"

Miranda was silent, her attention focused on the display just below them.

Sasha smiled as she saw a lipstick smear on her husband's cock rim. Messy, she grinned to herself, needs cleaning up. Her tongue began lapping at the stain as if trying to lick it off. Tom's back straightened. She grasped him between scrotum and body with one hand, squeezed gently. His balls pulled away from his body. Her other hand began pumping his shaft, velvet skin sliding over the wooden core. As she felt his fingers in her hair, she started running a firm tongue around his head, flicking at the most sensitive triangle underneath each time she went by. Tom's hands stopped their gentle strokes, his grasp becoming firmer. She could hear him begin to pant. As he approached his orgasm, she slowed down, lightened her strokes, eased off on the pressure, leaving him quivering on the edge.

"You're driving me crazy, Sasha!" he cried.

"Good."

Miranda looked at her husband. His eyes were wide, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"She is good, isn't she?"

"Good?" he breathed. "She's going to shatter his heart."

"From the look on his face," she replied, "he'll die very happy." Her own hands traced lightly over her lips and cheeks, slowly ran over her thighs, breasts and belly.

Sasha knelt on either side of the boy's torso, trapping his arms under her. She clasped her ample breasts, presented hard nipples to Tom's face. She was as turned on as she had ever been; the feeling of her power over her man's lust was exhilarating.

"Lick them, Tommy!" she cried. "Get them wet!"

His tongue darted in and out of his mouth, teased her soft orbs. She guided herself so most of his attention would up in her cleavage. She was immensely excited, close to orgasm herself, but she pulled away, ignoring his brief protest.

She wiggled down to his groin, took his engorged cock in her mouth and bobbed up and down a few times before shifting up to place it between her proud breasts, holding him in place with her fingertips as she began to slide her soft womanly flesh back and forth over his rigid manhood.

His freed hands returned to her head, loving, pleading.

Again he approached orgasm. Again she pulled back.

Tom's protest died instantly as she moved forward to straddle him, pushing herself down on his cock in a single motion. She gave a low cry of pleasure to match his welcoming moan.

Above them, eyes still fixed on the twisting, ecstatic pair, James fumbled for his wife's hand, missed. He tried again, missed again, gave it up and concentrated instead on the girl's increasingly shrill sounds.

Sasha bounced on her husband as quickly as she could. There would be no stopping this time. Tom, his hands clasping her bouncing boobs, was thrusting in sync with her hips. A fire began to build in his cockhead, exploded. With a low groan, he clutched her hips, pulled her down as hard as he could onto himself. With that, her rapid cries turned to one long shriek of joy as she collapsed onto his chest.

"Oh my," Miranda sighed. "Oh, my, James. Do you think we ever looked that happy, my darling man?"

"I cannot speak for myself, dear, but I have seen that same expression on your own sweet face on many occasions. It was always a wonder to me."

He thought for a moment, quickly added, "Your face was prettier, of course." James had been married a long time.

After watching the sleepy lovers for a few minutes, the old couple returned to the third floor, each silently musing on a previous life.

+

Halloween came. Tom arrived home, a package under his arm, to find a note just inside the door.

Get your costume on before you come in.

=) Sasha

Tom dropped his coat on a chair, put the package on the kitchen counter and opened it. Dropping his work clothes on the floor, he rapidly donned a pair of elegant black trousers and a ruffed dress shirt with full sleeves and a lace cravat at the throat. An embroidered burgundy vest set off the shirt. A knee-length black cape with a scarlet lining finished the ensemble. Tom hefted it, wondering whether or not to wear it into the bedroom. Making up his mind, he draped it over a chair. Fumbling in the package, he found a pair of fake fangs, put them into his mouth and strode to the door.

It opened under his knock. Sasha sat on the bed, beaming at him. "Don't you look just amazing, Tommy!" she greeted him.

Her husband stood unmoving, his mouth open and his eyes almost bulging.

The girl rose, brushed her hair off her shoulder and gave a small curtsy.

Sasha was dressed in a sleeveless white Candyfloss dress. Form-fitting in the extreme and obviously lacking a bra, the costume ended so far above the knee that it was barely a skirt at all. Her silky thighs were displayed in the wide gap between the hem and the tops of her blue thigh-high stockings. A high, plain collar was set off with a blue silk bow tie; a matching blue sash with a large bow secured the waistline. A pair of white heels and a broad-brimmed white hat completed the outfit. Her long blonde hair was brushed straight down behind her.

Her arms clutched a large white teddy bear with a dress and hat matching her own.

She looked like she needed a large lolly to go with the bear, but no schoolgirl ever had a figure like Sasha.

Thrilled with the stunned look on his face, she decided to press her advantage. Smiling wickedly, she pirouetted in front of the boy, stopped, reached out one finger and ran it down his nose.

"Like it?" she asked.

"Um... yeah. Oh, yeah! I really like it, Sash."

Miranda smiled a knowing smile at her staring husband. She was possessed of little jealousy and knew that window shopping was in her husband's nature.

"I think, James, that she looks like one of those fast girls you told me about seeing in Paris during the war."

James, not really paying attention, merely said, "Mm? I don't remember."

"Don't you try to dodge, James van Ampt! You know precisely of whom I speak -- that cabaret dancer who so captivated you the night your platoon got leave. I remember you describing her to me."

"Um?" The old man shook his head, tried to dispel the vision in front of him. "I suppose you're right, dear."

"You were excited just talking about her, James. Such a night we had! And this young thing looks precisely the way you described that French strumpet."

Tom reached for his bride, ran tender fingers over her breasts, down her sides. He started to pull her in closer when she pushed him back.

"Whoa there, boy! We're due at Lee and Tim's place in half an hour."

"Quickie?" he pleaded. She could see his reaction; his dress trousers were straining to contain him.

"No time, stud," she smiled. "Much as I would like it. But I suppose we can't have you walking around in public like that." Careful of her stockings, she knelt in front of him, unzipped his trousers and eased his stiffness out of them. Looking up at him with smouldering eyes, she gave it a soft kiss under the head before taking it in her mouth. As she bobbed over him, her hands ran over his stomach, bum and thighs.

James tried again to pat his own wife's bum, but his faint hand only passed through both dress and bottom like a sieve through water. Too soon, he thought.

He watched as the young man sagged against the wall behind him, the girl licking him clean before tucking him back into his costume with a wicked smile.

Below the older couple, Tom helped his wife into her coat before donning his cape.

"Oh, one last thing before we go, dear," she said to him, standing at the door.

"After that, anything you want, Sash."

Her hands slipped under her skirt, thumbed down her thong. Stepping out of it, she handed the scrap of fabric to him. "Would you please keep this in your pocket for me, Tommy?" She smiled wickedly, knowing the effect it would have. Sure enough, his eyes widened and a bulge began to regrow in his trousers. She ran her hand over it affectionately. "Sorry, boy. The first one was on the house. This one you're going to have to earn."

With that, she tucked her purse under her arm and sashayed out of the apartment, buttoning her coat as she went and leaving her thunderstruck husband to follow.

Sasha knew her man. He'd never be more than arm's length away for the rest of the evening. The shortness of her skirt was going to be an issue, but she was sure she wouldn't be the only woman flashing at the party.

It was going to be a fun night and THAT kind of party.

Tommy would never know what hit him.

The older couple looked at each other, blinking. James smiled at his wife. "Oh, my! Such a minx!" he breathed.

Miranda smiled back at him before spinning in place to return to their attic haven. She knew without looking that James would follow.

"I'll show you 'minx'," she whispered to herself.

Their normal state had many drawbacks, she reflected. But, on that one special, spooky, hallowed night each year, the normal order briefly changed in their favor. Re-embodiment became possible for that one extraordinary evening.

As she moved up the stairs, Miranda began to unbutton her blouse. Looking down, she caressed her once-again-firm bosom, felt reborn nipples tingle. Unspotted fingers ran over unwrinkled skin. Reaching up, she unpinned and let down her coiled grey hair, watched it turn lustrous and brown as it hit her shoulders, cascaded down past her waist.

Not bad for 126 years old! she smiled, putting a little more hip-swing into her step.

Below her, silently, a red rose was lifted from a vase by pale hands just becoming visible. James smiled to himself and began to whistle as he followed Miranda upstairs, slowly plucking petals as he went.