Hallowpeen

by Holly Wilde

If I were in charge of story time, everyone would be sharing adventures with masked men who give out hand necklaces and call you Princess.

Same girl

I look down and notice his fingernails are manicured pumpkin seeds. Pulsing veins of green are raised just slightly from his copper skin, climbing up his massive arms like a vine on a trellis. He’s clearly strong as fuck, with biceps the size of a small tree trunk. But the biggest part of him isn’t his arms. It’s his cock.

His engorged gourdhood’s orange surface is slicked with froth, like a whipped topping on a pumpkin spice latte.

uncircumcised seedhole.

massive pumpkin pecker