A Surprise Lover for All Hallows

Whitney slunk away from the party. The music was too loud, the lights too bright, the people too much.

Though she loved dancing, she’d felt claustrophobic trapped amongst the horde of writhing sweating bodies, all bumping up against her as they moved around the dance floor.

The odd shapes of the headstones through the trees lured her out of the yard and across the street.

Passing through the rusty old gates seemed to be enough to mute the party beyond to the dull thud thud thud of the bass, and Whitney closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the cold clear air, and enjoyed the silence.

When she opened her eyes again she found they’d already adjusted to the darkness, the full moon providing enough light that she could make out the grassy paths between rows of graves, tall crosses and marble guardian angels silhouetted against the night sky.

She leaned in close to read the inscription:

Edward Pitman

accidentally drowned 24 Jun 1845

aged 28 years

Gone but not Forgotten

“Aww. Poor Edward.” As Whitney spoke her breath came out in puffs of steam.

“Poor Edward indeed.” The deep voice came from behind, and Whitney shrieked, spinning around to come face to face with a young man in a brown coat and top hat. He was leaning forward slightly, as though to also read the markings on the stone, but then his gaze met hers and he inclined his head. “Terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a fright like that.”

“That’s fine.” Whitney pressed a hand against her chest and sucked in several deep breaths. “I didn’t realise anyone else was out here. Are you escaping the party too?”

The young man tilted his head to one side, a slight smirk on his face. “I escaped the party a lo-ong time ago.”

“Oh.” Whitney was always cautious of strangers, especially outside in the dark, but something about him felt trustworthy, and she found herself opening up in ways she normally wouldn’t. “My name is Whitney, by the way.”

His face broke out into a grin, and he held out his hand. “Edward. Charmed to meet you.”

She took his hand, but instead of shaking hers he lifted it to his mouth, his lips brushing her fingers.

Whitney’s cheeks warmed at the gesture. “Edward? That’s a funny coincidence.” She nodded towards the grave.

He gave a little laugh. “I’m not sure I’d call it funny, myself.”

“Sorry.” She cringed. She was always saying the wrong thing and offending people, when what she’d really intended to do was the opposite.

“It’s fine.” He waved away her concern. “Would you like to join me on a stroll around the stones?” He offered his arm.

She smiled as she tucked her hand inside his elbow. “I’d love that.”

He told her the history of the stones, and many of the people buried beneath them.

Her eyes shone. “Fascinating. I love learning about local history. You sound like you’ve spent a long time studying the cemetery.”

He gave a sad smile. “I have had plenty of time for that, it is true.”

“So what do you do when you aren’t researching old graves?”

He stopped walking and turned to her. “Woo beautiful women.” His voice was husky, and a shiver travelled Whitney’s spine.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Her words were a whisper.

“I do.” He leaned in close and pressed his lips against hers. “Will you allow me to be intimate with you?”

Butterflies danced in Whitney’s stomach. She made a point of never getting so close to a stranger. She never felt comfortable until she knew the person well enough to feel an emotional connection with them. But with Edward, something was different. From their short walk around the graveyard she felt she knew him already, they shared so many things in common. She nodded, and he leaned in close and kissed her again, his lips barely brushing hers at first, before pressing with more and more urgency as his tongue slipped into her mouth to press against her lips.

She slid her hands inside his coat jacket and spread her fingers out across his chest. He pulled away, removed his jacket, and spread it out on the ground.

Whitney undid the buttons of her shirt, allowing if to fall open, and pushed her skirt past her hips to let it fall to the grass. His gaze roamed appreciatively over her body his hands settling on her waist as he pulled her closer, the hard heat between his legs meeting the damp heat between hers.

They kissed again, his hands cupping her bare breasts, her fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt, and the odd cords holding his trousers closed. He knelt before her, removing her knickers, his finger sliding between her legs, exploring her folds until they found her entrance then pushing their way inside.

He was certainly skilled. He lapped at her pussy with his tongue as his fingers did their work, and she clung to him, biting her lip to stop from calling out as he brought wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her body.

“Oh my God!” she gasped as she came, hot and sweaty despite the cool night air.

He lowered her onto his jacket and removed his shirt and trousers. His cock was thick and erect, and when he dropped to his knees between her thighs she reached out to stroke it.

“Your touch is so soft.” Edward gasped, leaning over her to brush his lips against hers.

“Fuck me, Edward.” Whitney spread her legs, desperate to have him inside her.

He rubbed his cock against her opening, coating it in her juices, before plunging inside. Now he was a different man altogether.

“You feel so good.” He groaned as he thrust inside her, biting his lip as she tilted her hips to meet him.

“So do you.”

“Call my name, please?”

“Edward.”

“Don’t hold back. Don’t hide your moans.” He panted.

Heat and electricity zapped up her spine. “Edward. Fuck. That’s so good.” He moved so fast she could no longer keep up, and simply clung to him as he rode her body, another orgasm sending her mind flying as she moaned his name to the dark.

He came, his thrusts slowing until he came to a stop, his weight resting on her.

Slowly Whitney came back to herself. “Shit. I didn’t think about contraception.” Her face burned.

Edward laughed. “You need not worry about an unwanted pregnancy.” He glanced up at the moon, and for a moment his face was luminous. “My seed will not create a child.”

“Oh.” She felt a pang of sorrow, but then he turned to her and kissed her again.

“Thank you, Whitney. You have made my night complete.”

“I’m glad.” She lifted a hand to stroke his face. His cheek felt like ice. “You’re so cold.”

He smiled at her. “It’s midnight, time for me to go back.”

“Back where?”

His smile faded. “I am Edward Pitman, accidentally drowned aged 28. I spent most of my time at sea, never had a wife, just a handful of lovers scattered across a handful of ports. Before I died I decided to quit the sea and settle down. I would’ve liked a woman like you to be my wife.” He sighed, and now Whitney could see through his shape to the shadows of the trees behind him.

“I like to come back, and experience what I missed out on, if only for an hour or so. But there are not often beautiful young maidens waiting in the graveyard with whom I can join. So again, I say thank you. You have made my night complete.”

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