Page 21 of No Bones About It

We look through couples costumes, but I’m having trouble figuring out what could work for a twelve-foot skeleton and a woman. I’m scrolling when suddenly, a skeletal finger is excitedly tapping at the screen.

“Oh my gosh. Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” I beam up at him, and his eyes glow with warmth. “It’s one of my favorite movies. Should we watch it?”

He nods enthusiastically, and I order the costumes, then start streaming the movie on the laptop. We both start by sitting upright, but by the time the main characters are kissing on top of Spiral Hill, we are hopelessly tangled.

From the corner of my eye, I see BJ look from the screen to me and back again.

He studies them, then me, and I wish he could tell me just what he is thinking. Then he reaches over, and closes the laptop lid with one long skeletal finger.

I smile and take it over to the table and plug it to one of the many extension cords for the night, and when I turn back to face him, he’s lying outstretched and has made a pile of pillows and blankets along his ribcage.

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me at seeing his pose, one leg bent and one arm propped under his head. The stereotypical sexy guy waiting in bed pose.

“Well, hello big guy,” I say and shuck off my jeans. I wished I could have worn something sexier to bed but opted for warmth since I would be spending the night in the tent.

He looks me up and down, and although I’m in an oversized sweatshirt and knee high socks, he seems pleased with the end result as he pats the spot right next to him.

I smile and curl up facing him, surprised at just how cozy this is. My head is on one of the pillows he’s piled on top of his arm, and I curl my arms through his ribs, letting my fingers wrap around them.

He brings his legs up and spoons around me as much as his size allows, then reaches over and snags another beer from my stash and offers it to me.

“Sure, why not,” I say and sit up a little higher against the pillow to take a swig.

He caresses me with his free hand, toying with my hair, drifting it along my belly, and finally exploring my fuzzy socks. There is no judgment in his eyes, no analyzing. Just adoration. He seems fascinated by everything I say and do, and the interest is an aphrodisiac.

When I swig the last of the beer, he pulls the bottle from my hand and then watches my face as he starts gliding it down my belly.

When he trails it lower, I start to get a suspicion and let out a squeaky, “What are you doing?”

When he uses it to nudge my knees apart and then trails it up my thigh, a fine tremble runs through him.

“You did watch me!” I squeal, cheeks flushing as my suspicion is confirmed.

Shooting my eyes from the bottle he’s currently rubbing against my panties to meet his gaze, he winks at me.

“You naughty skeleton,” I say. “So, yes, I may have been a little desperate and used what I had at hand, but I’m thinking there’s something else I’d rather have touch me now.”

He stills and searches my face. I give him a shy smile, and he tosses the bottle away where it lands with a dull thud in the grass. He shifts up onto his elbow and grips the edge of my sweatshirt, tugging it up.

I help him slip it off and then lay back down against him.

His electronic pupils blow comically wide at my naked breasts, nipples peaking in the night air. It’s still comfortably warm in the heated tent, but without my sweatshirt I can feel Fall pressing in.

He reaches out and traces over my skin, ghosting just the tip of his bony finger over the swell of each breast. With each stroke of my skin, his confidence builds, and soon he covers my body with his large hands, learning every dip and swell.

“Yes, BJ, this is what I was imagining when you watched me,” I whisper.

His eyes flash when I let out a breathy moan as he becomes fascinated with my nipples and he spends long minutes learning what I respond to the most. When my hips move, seeking his touch, his eyes snap down to them and go darker.

He slides his enormous hand down my belly, scraping the tips of the bones along my flesh, and the sound of my breaths turning harsh fills the space. When his fingertips ghost under my panties I moan and move to start shoving them off. He presses down on my belly, restraining me, and gives me a slow shake of his head, no.

He rises up to kneel over me, then slips my panties down my legs himself inch by tortuous inch. Once they’re off and tossed off in the direction of the beer bottle, he bends my legs up and spreads them wide.

His eyes glow in the fading light and are fixed on my core as he traces his long bony fingers up and down my legs, inching closer to my aching core with each pass while the candles from the pumpkins start to cast flickering shadows around the darkening tent.

His white bones appear brighter against the surrounding gloom, and I can’t pull my eyes away from the skeleton worshiping me with his eyes and hands. I’m amazed at just how big he is, towering over me like this. My pussy weeps with desire at the sight.

When he finally grazes the inside of my thighs, trailing along the crease there, my hips shift up, searching for his touch.