I do as I’m instructed and minutes later have a fairly decent pair of ovals staring back at me. I move lower, attempting to make the mouth when Mabel approaches.
“You’re doing great, hunny,” she says, patting my shoulder and observing my work.
“It’s not award winning, but I think it’s cute,” I respond, smiling slightly. It’s actually hideous, with two lopsided eyes and a jagged mouth, but it’s my first.
I take a minute to notice everyone finishing up. Some of their pumpkins have beautifully carved faces while others are etched with words. How did they all get so good at this?
“Want to see mine?” Sam whispers in my ear.
I nod at him, waiting for the big reveal, when a giant glob of pumpkin guts lands directly on top of my head. “What the fud—” I begin to shoutfudge, when the next wave smacks the front of my sweater and the sound of Nora cackling rings in my ear. Ilook up, making eye contact with all of them for a brief second. Seven smiling faces greet me before all hell breaks loose.
Like a frenzied food fight, pumpkin innards begin to fly. Everyone is being pelted with the gooey substance, and all they can do is laugh. Realizing I better get in on the action and quick, I grab a handful and throw it with all my might at Sam. Unfortunately, he dodges it and it lands with a loud wet smack against Mabel’s cheek. Shoot!
“I’m so sorry,” I say quickly, but instead of being mad, she doubles over laughing and then launches a handful in my direction.
After several minutes of flying pumpkin guts and precarious hits on Sam’s family, his dad announces that the annual pumpkin smear has come to a close. Each of us is covered in an array of pumpkin flesh and seeds. My sweater is matted so thick with it, I think the best course of action will be tossing it straight in the trash.
“Okay, everyone, time to get changed for dinner,” Mabel says.
I look at Sam, my eyes practically popping out of my head.
He gives me a reassuring look then says, “Ma, since we were surprising Olive, she didn’t bring a change of clothes. I’m going to run her home to get cleaned up.” Sam nods toward the gate in the fence, signaling where we exit.
“Oh, Sammy, I’m sure we can find something for her to wear,” Mabel puts her hands on her hips.
“No really, Ma. It’s okay. I’ll take her home to get cleaned up.” Something transpires between the two of them, an unspoken understanding.
“Fine, if you insist. But you two are not leaving until I’ve packed you up some stew and biscuits. I’ll be right back,” Mabel says, already starting toward the kitchen to get our food.
“Mom doesn’t let anyone leave hungry. It’ll just take a minute.” Sam looks at me reverently, and my heart melts evenmore. This man and his amazing family are so kind, almost too nice. I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Mabel rushes out with a huge container of beef stew, a foil-covered plate of biscuits, and a sack filled with cookies. We couldn’t eat this all in one sitting even if we hadn’t consumed food in a week. We make our way to the truck, and I slide in gingerly in an attempt to not muck up the interior too badly.
It’s a short drive, filled with far too much laughter over my initial reaction to being pelted with pumpkin guts. Sam explained it’s a yearly tradition, and one that is never shared with new significant others until it happens. Reflecting on it, I have to say it was one of the most freeing experiences of my life. The ability to throw caution to the wind and just let loose isn’t a privilege I’ve had often.
We arrive at my house and make our way inside, undressing in the entryway so that I don’t have to peel dried pumpkin off the floor for weeks to come. Conveniently, Sam had a bag with a change of clothes with him. I guess he knew to come prepared. Down to our final layers, we walk to the bathroom, Sam’s lips on my neck and his hands wrapped around my belly.
“Do you, uh, do you want to go first?” I ask, turning to face him after I set the shower to hot. He presses a kiss to my lips, and I feel it all the way to my toes.
“How about together? I mean, if you want to.” I can see the trepidation take over his expression as he asks me. Of course I want to. He’s like a walking underwear model with his ripped muscles and beautiful tattoos. I kiss him again, stretching on my tiptoes to meet his pillow-soft lips.
“Is that a yes?” He peeks at my arm briefly, and my stomach bottoms out. I know it’s a natural reaction, one I’d probably do too, if the roles were reversed. But it also gives me pause—is this how it’s going to be now?
His face sinks when he notices that I caught him. “Hey, I’m good with whatever you want. I just want to make you happy.” My heart skips a beat. I’m massively overthinking this. I need to live in the moment—let go and have fun.
I tentatively bring my hand to the elastic at his waist, deciding to seize the moment instead of running scared. I tug his boxer briefs down slowly, admiring his impressive length as it springs up toward his abs. Standing and carefully reaching around, I unclasp my bra, letting it coast to the floor. A myriad of pumpkin seeds fall with it, causing us both to laugh.
“I guess I was saving those for later,” I manage in between wheezing.
“Come on, baby.” He leads me into the shower and under the spray. Hot water cascades over my skin in direct contradiction to the cool air of my cottage. My nipples pebble and goose bumps breakout across my skin. Sam runs his hands up and down my arms before leaning in and kissing the tender spot behind my ear, then down my neck and onto my breasts. Any chill I had evaporates instantaneously as my center becomes slick with need.
“You are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” Sam growls out quietly as he steps back to drink me in.
I take a second to squirt some body wash in my hands and rub them together, creating a lather. Stepping forward so the spray is hitting my back, I run my hands from his neck, down his arms, and across his abs, landing on his impressive cock. I take my time feeling the hard planes of his body under my fingertips, careful to get all remains of pumpkin off his skin. Sam hisses out a slow breath when I wrap my hand around him and tug slightly.
Quickly, he peels my fingers off of him and says, “My turn.”
He turns me around, so the water is splashing my front, and grabs the bodywash, putting a generous amount in his palm. Sam steps up close behind me, his cock pressing into mybackside as he wraps his arms around me and covers me in suds. I can’t help but grind back against him just slightly.
