|The Invitation - A Halloween Story|
|by The Technician|
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|© Copyright 2016 - The Technician - Used by permission|
|The Invitation The Technician Solo-M; costume; suit; halloween; car; chauffeur; mansion; party; bo-peep; bedroom; rom; sex; first-time; discovery; cons; X|
|This warning is possibly not needed for this particular story, but I am including it because it is needed for most of my stories. If you decide to read other of my stories make sure that you read the disclosures and warnings at the beginning of each story.
WARNING! This warning is probably not needed for this story, but my other stories are usually much stronger. If you are not familiar with my writings and look for other stories, please read the introductory notes so you have an idea of the type of content involved. All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2016 by The Technician ( [email protected] ). Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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If a strange man in a strange car hand-delivered an Halloween Party invitation to you, would you go? Gerry did. And this is what happened.
This story only mildly erotic. It is much more of a romantic mind game concerning what might happen... could have happened... once should have happened... on that mysterious holiday we call Halloween.
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Gerry Maxwell carefully reached into the very back of his closet and lifted out the old, cloth garment bag which held his Halloween costume. It was nearly four o’clock and Halloween trick or treaters would soon be ringing his doorbell.
The formal attire and cape were now almost 90 years old. They had been a gift a decade ago from his 98-year-old great-grandfather when he was discarding things in preparation for going into a nursing home. His great-grandmother had died when Gerry was a young child. Gerry barely remembered her, but “Grandpa Gerald,” as he had always called his great-grandfather, was an integral part of his childhood.
The costume was an exact copy of the famous outfit worn by Bela Lugosi in the Broadway play– and later in the film– Dracula . In the right front pocket, in a small black cloth bag, was a set of very realistic fangs which clipped onto your teeth. Hanging over a special separate hanger under the shirt was the red sash which distinguished the Count as royalty.
“It was made for Raymond Huntley,” Grandpa Gerald had explained when he gave it to him. “He was supposed to wear it in the stage version of Dracula when it was brought to this country in 1927. But Raymond so disliked the play– and his part in the English cast– that he refused to come to America. So the producers cast Bela Lugosi as Dracula instead.”
As he handed the old-fashioned garment bag to his namesake, Grandpa Gerald said, “Bela wasn’t the same size as Raymond, so the costume was discarded.” After a short smile, he continued, “But Raymond was the same size as me, so the stage seamstress, my mother, your great-great-grandmother, brought it home for me to use as a costume.
“You could probably sell it for a lot of money,” he added with a shrug, “but it would please me very, very greatly if you held on to it at least until I pass away. There is quite a story related to that costume that I may tell you some day.”
Gerald had honored his great-grandfather’s wish and kept the costume. Surprisingly it was also exactly his size, so each year for the past several years, he would wear it as he passed out candy to the neighborhood children. And each year he would say with a sigh as the last child walked away, “Someday I will have children of my own... ... if I ever meet that perfect girl of my dreams.”
It wasn’t that he was holding out for perfection. Actually he wasn’t holding out at all. But like so many young, brilliant, entrepreneurs, he was very nervous and bumbling around women and had never been able to develop a relationship past a few rudimentary first-date kisses. So he lived in his nice house all alone and spent his Halloween evenings making other people’s children happy by passing out candy dressed as Dracula.
The sun was just starting to dip over the horizon when the last of the super heros and goblins departed his doorstep. Gerry remembered his father telling him that there had once been a time when trick or treating was done after sunset, but the dangers of traffic– and the modern world– had transformed trick or treating into a before dark experience.
As the small witch and ghost– accompanied, of course by their ever-present parents– disappeared down the sidewalk, a maroon and gray Rolls Royce Silver Ghost glided to a stop in front of Gerry’s house.
That got his attention. He was an avid car buff, so he immediately recognized the magnificent antique machine. It was in superb condition and looked almost new. Gerry could not help himself and stepped out onto his stoop for a better view.
As he stood staring at the Rolls, which idled silently at the curb, a uniformed chauffeur got out of the front portion of the vehicle and walked up the sidewalk. “Master Gerald Maxwell?” he said as he stood at the base of the steps. It was more of a statement than a question, but Gerry nodded his head in response.
“This is for you,” the uniformed man said as he reached out and handed Gerry an envelope.
“I will await your answer in the car,” he added as he turned and walked stiffly back to the open front seat of the Silver Ghost.
The envelope was thick, ivory colored stock. It looked very old and very expensive. Gerry’s name was written in bold blue-black script on the front. He smiled at the fact that it said, “Gerald Maxwell, Esquire.”
He untucked the back flap and opened the envelope. Inside was a printed invitation. On the outside it said in very ornate printed script, “You are invited to an old-fashioned Halloween Masquerade party.” That explained the strange way it was addressed.
The invitation, like the envelope, looked old and expensive. It was high-quality ivory cardstock paper with hand-feathered edges. Gerry ran his fingers across the message on the front of the card. The printing was of a type that could not have been done on a color copy machine– or even at most print shops with modern print masters. The ink was raised slightly from the paper indicating a quality off-set press with special ink and engraved plates. It was almost impossible to find printers who could do that anymore. Today almost everything was computer printed or done with computer-generated flat-etched masters.
Inside the invitation, in the same glossy black raised ink, it gave the location of the party as “The Hargrove Mansion,” and the time as “Halloween, beginning at dark.”
Beneath the elaborate printing was a handwritten note in the same blue-black ink as on the envelope. It said, “It would please me very much if you would come to my party.”
It was signed, “Maddy.”
Gerry stood tapping the invitation against his hand for several seconds and then said aloud to himself, “Why the hell not? It’s probably a mistake and I will end up getting kicked out of the party when Maddy– whoever she is– discovers I’m the wrong person. But I don’t have anything else to do tonight, and I’m already dressed in an old-fashioned costume.”
Shutting off the porch and livingroom lights, he slipped the invitation into the front pocket of the jacket and walked out to the Sliver Ghost.
“Count me in,” he said to the driver.
In reply, the driver handed him what looked like a black, silk, handkerchief. “You will be needing this,” he said politely.
When Gerry looked confused, he explained, “Your costume doesn’t have a mask.”
“Oh,” Gerald said as he unfolded the silk to reveal a soft mask. He tied it in place around his face as the driver opened the rear door and indicated that he should enter.
He half-way expected there to be other people in the car, or at least that they would stop to pick up other guests. It had to have cost a lot of money to hire this extraordinary car and driver for the evening, so surely whoever was giving this party would not have done so just for him... or for whoever it was that the driver was actually supposed to be picking up.
The car, however, was empty when he got in, and the driver didn’t stop for anyone else as he drove across town and began the drive up the winding road to what the locals called “Snob Hill.”
In the grand old days of the city, many of the wealthy elite had luxurious mansions there. Today, the mansion grounds had mostly been sold off and the huge houses had almost all been subdivided into apartments. The one or two huge estates that were still intact were museums or– in one case– a cemetery with the mansion acting as the cemetery mausoleum.
The Silver Ghost rolled along almost silently, just as Frederick Henry Royce had intended it to do. Even the time worn and pot-holed street leading up Snob Hill felt smooth beneath the large wheels and superb suspension designed by Sir Frederick.
A man in an old-fashioned livery uniform opened the heavy iron gates at the entrance as the car glided silently up to it. He closed the gate behind them as they continued slowly on up to the mansion house.
As they approached the house, Gerry thought to himself that it looked very much like the picture that Grandpa Gerald kept in his room at the nursing home. Gerry had asked him about it once and he explained, “Your great-grandmother– God bless her soul– was once from a very rich family. But she lost everything in the crash of ‘29.”
He sighed and tears formed in his eyes as he continued, “All of her so-called friends deserted her, but I didn’t. Her parents committed suicide by starting their Rolls Royce in the closed garage at their mansion. We got married on November 29th, one month after everything else in her life fell apart. Your grandfather was born eight months later.”
Gerald was never sure if his great-grandfather’s tears were for his dear wife who was now gone, or for what she had lost so early in her life.
Another servant, also dressed in formal livery, opened the door to the Rolls with his gloved hand and gestured for Gerry to exit. When he was standing upright, the footman said in very clear and crisp British-style English, “Your invitation, sir?”
Again, it was more of a statement than a question, but in response, Gerry pulled the invitation from his front pocket and handed it to the liveried servant. The footman read the name on the outside of the envelope and then opened the invitation itself to read what was inside. His eyebrows raised slightly as he read the very personal note which Maddy had written.
Setting the invitation aside in an elaborate basket next to one of the pillars of the portico, the footman said crisply, “Follow me,” and turned to enter the front doors of the mansion. Two menservants stood watch at the doors and opened them as they approached. Once inside the large foyer, the footman picked up a large walking stick and pounded it loudly against the floor.
When everyone was quiet he called out, “Master Gerald Maxwell.” He then turned and walked pompously back out the front doors.
Almost immediately everyone resumed talking. Gerald wasn’t sure what to do next. He could see that there appeared to be only a select few at this elaborate gala. This was obviously some sort of lavish fund-raiser for one of the museums. He couldn’t understand at all why he was invited. He wasn’t– and never would be– a major financial supporter for any of the charities in town. And he was sure– absolutely sure– that he had never been inside this particular museum.
Just as he finally decided to wander around the room and hopefully find a food table before he was thrown out, a young woman hurried across the parquet floor. Her costume was stunning. She was dressed as Little Bo Peep, complete with layers and layers of taffeta petticoats under a very full blue dress with wide, exaggerated hips. In her hands, she was holding an elaborate shepherd’s crook topped with a bright blue bow. A blue and white bonnet covered her auburn hair. A white satin mask hid the upper portion of her face. Beneath the white mask a perfect pair of red lips parted slightly to reveal gleaming white teeth.
“Gerry,” she said with a smile. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come after what father said to you.”
“Maddy?” he asked.
This had to be Maddy. He could not see her face. But even if she had not been masked, Gerry was sure he would not have recognized her. He was absolutely sure that he had never before in his life seen this young woman.
“What’s wrong?” she asked in response.
He answered truthfully, “I’m not sure why I’m here or what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“You are here because you love me,” she replied, pulling him close and laying her head on his shoulder.
Turning so that her face was under his ear, she breathed softly as she whispered, “I knew you would come. Even after daddy drove you away, I knew you would come. You were my last hope. That’s why I sent Jerome for you.”
Her head raised as she looked around the room. “This room should be full,” she said, breaking into tears. “They’ve all deserted me... except those who are in the same boat with me. Everyone knows that we were wiped out in The Crash. Those of my supposed friends who still have anything are afraid to be seen with me. They are afraid we will pull them down with us.”
“I don’t understand,” Gerry said. He wanted to ask, “What crash?” but her sobs drowned out his question before he could ask it.
“Dad was trying to start a new company,” she replied as her sobs abated slightly. “He had everything mortgaged to the limit... the house... the business... even the stocks he had in other companies.”
She turned and gave Gerry a weak smile. “The bank wants us out of the house by the end of the week. After that, we will be on the street.”
She made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “This party,” she said with a hollow laugh, “was already paid for.” Pointing to the servants at the door, she said sadly, “They are here out of loyalty... and the fact that they don’t have anyplace else to go.”
“I’m here,” Gerry said. He put his arm around her and added, “and I will always be here for you.” He had no idea why he said that or how he was ever going to keep that promise, but it sounded like the right thing to say at the time.
“Do you love me, Gerald?” she suddenly asked. She had stopped and turned to face him so that they were looking directly eye to eye. “I know that my parents told you that I could never marry so far below my station. But I was willing before, despite what my father said, and I am willing now.”
She looked down at the floor and sighed deeply, then raised her head to again look into Gerry’s eyes. “Can you love someone who is now so far below your station?” she asked with a sob. “Would you still be willing to marry me?”
“Of course,” Gerry stammered out. As a way of giving himself time to think, he added, “But there are a lot of things to work out before we start planning the honeymoon.”
“Not necessarily,” Maddy said with a smile. “Let me show you something.”
She led Gerry over to the grand staircase and tugged on his hand to pull him up behind her as she climbed the stairs. When they reached the upper floor, she continued to pull him down the hallway to the last room.
“This was to be my wedding chamber,” she said softly as she opened the door. “It has always been the tradition of the family that the first night is spent at the family estate. This room was intended to be used for nothing else.”
“We could have our honeymoon first,” she said– almost smiling– almost crying. “Then it can never be taken away from us.”
Her blouse was hanging from her waist. She pushed on the oversized hips of the costume and it slid to the floor. She was now standing in a white, cloth brassier with a matching white garter belt that held up her Bo Peep thick, white stockings. Beneath the garter belt was a rather expansive pair of white granny panties that must have also been part of the costume.
After standing still for him to examine for several moments, she said, “I didn’t wear my corset tonight.” She giggled and added,“I didn’t think anyone would notice that it wasn’t there under that heavy costume.”
She stood before him and took the bonnet from her head, but left the white mask in place. She threw the bonnet over to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Then she lifted up her leg slightly with her bent knee nearly touching Gerry.
After a moment she said, somewhat petulantly, “Well, aren’t you going to undo my stockings?”
“Oh!” blurted out Gerry. “Oh... yes... stockings.”
He reached forward and then stopped. “How do these things work?” he asked.
“You are so precious,” Maddy answered with a light laugh. “You push the little rubber knob back into the big circle and it pops out.”
Gerry followed her instructions and the first clasp came free. There were two clasps on each stocking. Maddy was pushing her body closer and closer to his face as he worked to open the clasps and then slide the stocking down her legs. The warmth of her skin and the smell of her body powder were extremely distracting.
“I had better do this,” she said as she reached behind her back and opened the clasp on her bra. “If you can’t do stocking garters,” she laughed, “you surely can’t handle a bra clasp.”
She turned down the covers on the bed and sat on the sheets. Looking up at him, she asked, “Do you want me to undress you?”
“No... no...” he stammered out. “I’ll do it myself.”
He started to take off his coat, but then looked around the room. He was half expecting someone to jump out with a camera and shout, “You’ve been pranked!”
He checked again before slipping off his shoes, and again before unbuttoning his shirt, and once more before unzipping his pants.
When he was down to his underwear, he looked back over to the bed and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure that I will lose everything,” she said softly, “if I don’t do this.”
Holding her face in her hands, she added, “Without this, I will have lost even the will to live.”
She sighed deeply and ran her hand across the sheets of the bed and said sadly,“This is all I have left of my dreams of what my life would be.” Her voice became much stronger as she ended with, “But if we do this tonight, they can never take it away from us.”
Gerry lowered his underwear to the ground and slid into the bed alongside Maddy. While he was undressing, she had taken off her garter belt and panties and, of course, the mask. She was a beautiful young woman. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but Gerry was still absolutely sure that he had never met her.
She hugged him tightly and said softly into his ear. “Despite how wanton I may have seemed to be tonight, please be gentle. I have never been with a man before.”
Gerry wanted to say, “I’ve never been with a woman before either,” but somehow it didn’t seem like the right thing to say. So instead, he kissed her as passionately as he could.
Her lips opened as he pressed against her. Her body was suddenly hot against his own. He slid his tongue forward slightly, but her teeth were closed, so he merely licked her lips as he moved his kisses across her face.
There is no such thing as a totally unskilled lover. If a man listens to a woman and pays attention to her body and if a woman listens to a man and pays attention to his body, they will know what to do. Maddy and Gerry explored each other and slowly discovered each other and each other’s needs.
She cried out slightly as Gerry broke through her hymen. When she called out, he stopped and held her gently for a few moments before again beginning to move within her. Soon Maddy’s pain was forgotten as she pressed fervently against him, matching the tempo of his thrusts. Finally, she threw her head back against the pillow and groaned out a long “Aaaahhhh” as her body shook in the throes of passion.
She wound her arms and legs around Gerry and clung to him tightly. “If there is never a tomorrow,” she said, trembling “we at least had tonight.”
Then, as she relaxed back against the bed, she said softly, “My mother always said that if a woman is overcome with passion, it means that she has gotten pregnant.” Her voice seemed much more firm as she added, “If I am pregnant, then no one– not even Father– can prevent us from getting married.”
“But if I am,” she asked, “will you still marry me?”
“Of course,” he answered, and she pulled him down against her and buried her head into his neck. He was still on top of her when they both fell soundly asleep.
Gerry Maxwell woke with a start in his own bed. Something was buzzing loudly. The Dracula costume was strewn across the floor. The snap-in fangs were sitting on the small table beside the bed. Next to the fangs, his cellphone was vibrating noisily.
“Weird dream,” he said aloud as he reached for his phone. It was his mother.
“The nursing home just called,” she said. “Grandpa Gerald is asking for you.” She paused before continuing. “They said the family should gather because he’s dying.” There was another long pause before she said, “He wants you to bring the costume.”
“What?” Gerry blurted out. “Why?”
“He says you will understand when you get here,” she answered. “But hurry. There might not be much time. He is the oldest person in the nursing home, you know. A person approaching one hundred and ten doesn’t have much strength– or time– left.”
Gerry quickly gathered up the Dracula outfit and carefully put it properly on its ancient wooden hanger. An hour later he was at the nursing home.
The family was all gathered in the room when Gerry arrived. As he entered the room, Grandpa Gerald said loudly, but with obvious effort. “That’s the suit I am going to be buried in.”
There was a buzz of questions and concern from the family members, but Gerald shushed them all and said, “I will explain my reasons to Gerry. He will make the final decision. You can argue with him after I am gone.”
Everyone quieted down and Gerald continued more softly, “I need some time alone with my great-grandson.”
There were murmured objections, but everyone left the room.
“Bring me the suit,” he said, and Gerry laid the costume on his lap in the bed.
“There is no need to bury me in this,” he said flatly. “I just needed to be sure that you brought it... and that the family would think they knew why I wanted the suit.”
“This will explain everything,” he added as he reached into the inside pocket of the coat– a pocket that Gerry had not known was there.
When he withdrew his hand, he was holding an envelope. It was thick, ivory-colored stock and looked very old and very expensive. Written on the front in bold blue-black script was “Gerald Maxwell, Esquire.”
He sat quietly for several moments, sliding the envelope through his fingers.
“A week before that party,” Gerald said slowly, “her father threw me out of their house. He called me white trash and said that I would never be good enough to marry his daughter.”
He slid the envelope back inside the jacket and then took a deep breath. “She came to me a week or so after the party,” he continued, “and said that she was pregnant. She asked if I was still willing to marry her.”
He smiled. “Of course I said, ‘yes’. I never asked about the father of the child. I raised your grandfather as my own, even knowing that it was another man’s child.”
He looked intently at Gerry. “Then you were born,” he said, “and you looked exactly like me. As you grew up, you were me as a small child.”
He sighed. “I finally said something to her. I said that you looked enough like me to be my own flesh and blood, and I wished that our son had truly been mine.”
Gerald looked down at the costume. “On one of the last days she was still with me, Maddy told me that when Bo Peep and Dracula made love on that Halloween night, it saved her life. While the party was going on in the mansion, her mother and father– and their chauffeur, Jerome– were sitting in the garage with the motor running.
I knew that.
What I never knew was that she was supposed to join them at midnight. But when Dracula walked into the party, she decided to do something wild and impulsive instead.”
He patted the envelope through the fabric of the costume. “She told me that it was on that night that our son was conceived.”
He once again pulled the envelope out of the coat. “The only problem is,” he said with a slight shake of his head, “Dracula never went to that party.”
Gerry felt himself sitting down... or did he just collapse into the chair.
“I was supposed to be there,” Grandpa Gerald continued. “I was supposed to go to that party. I was supposed to make love to Maddy. I was supposed to get her pregnant. But I couldn’t be there because my asshole of a boss had us all working very late on Halloween.”
He patted the coat once again and said sadly, “I was supposed to be at that party.”
He then gave a very deep sigh and said calmly, “I was also supposed to die last night.”
Gerry looked at him in shock, but Grandpa Gerald merely smiled back at his alarm.
“Last night, the angel of death visited me,” he said softly. “He told me that before he took me, he had to correct an error in time.”
His voice became even softer– but still very clear– as he said, “It seems that I was supposed to go to that party after all. I shouldn’t have had to work late because my boss was supposed to die from a heart attack that afternoon. But death was so overwhelmed by the many suicides that sprang from the crash of ‘29 that he skipped a pickup for a natural death and my boss didn’t have the heart attack until a day later.”
He slowly exhaled and said, almost with a smile, “I die tonight... a day late, just like my boss.”
His face became expressionless as he explained, “Death can’t change the past. He can’t go back and fix things when he has messed up. He can, however, take someone back in time to see their life as they approach the time of their death. He can even show a person what their life could have been if they had made different choices or if things had been different in their lives.”
Pointing at Gerry, he said very slowly, “And, in extreme circumstances Death can take someone back in your place... even someone from that life that could have been.”
He took a very deep breath before saying, “And when you combine all that with ... Halloween, what should have been can even replace what was.”
Gerry felt as if a thousand buckets of ice water had suddenly been poured over his head.
Grandpa Gerald leaned forward slightly and whispered to his great-grandson. “Was it a grand party?”
“Did you dance with Bo Peep before you went up to the wedding chamber?” he asked as the color slowly drained from his face.
“Did you promise that you would marry her no matter what?” he murmured as he lay back against his pillow.
Finally, with his last breath, he said softly, “She was such a beautiful young woman. Thank you for saving her.”
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Wayne Mitchell “The Technician”
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