“Ashton, I had no idea you were coming home,” said Cheryl Winters. The forty-five-year-old mom of three looked incredibly sexy in her tight, black witch costume. Twenty-year-old Ashton Johnson had returned for a few days from the first semester of his second year of college. He was secretly pleased to see Mrs. Winters. He’d fantasized about Cheryl since the Winters moved next door during Ashton’s parents four years ago. Cheryl’s short red hair, ruddy lips, brown eyes, and curvy hips drove him wild.
Chuck Winters, Cheryl’s husband, was a force to be reckoned with. Although neither large nor muscular, Chuck managed to somehow terrify everyone with whom he crossed paths. He was president of the town’s bank and notoriously hot-blooded. Many of those who knew the couple (including Ashton) scratched their heads in wonder as to why a sweetheart like Cheryl ended up with a jerk like Chuck.
Ashton had stopped by the Winters’ home at his mother’s insistence. Mr. Winter was returning the next day, and Cheryl was short a stick of butter to bake a welcome home cake. Kara, Ashton’s mom, was out of town for the week but had received Cheryl’s request via text. Kara called her son to ask if he’d bring the butter to Cheryl. Ashton got a cheap thrill when his fingers touched Cheryl’s as he handed over the butter.
“Come in for a sec. I need company. Ronny and Mel are at Halloween parties and Chuck is out of town. You’re a lifesaver for bringing me this,” said Cheryl about the butter. “You look great! College agrees with you. How’s practice going?”
“Pretty good. They’ve played me a few times,” Ashton said proudly about playing football for his school.
“I’ll bet. You look really built up. So, do you have a girl?” asked Cheryl coyly.
“Sort of. We’re dating. Nothing serious.” Ashton wasn’t being entirely honest. He had a girlfriend he was seeing exclusively but didn’t want anything to upend the iota of a chance he had with Cheryl.
“I’ll bet,” said Cheryl with a wink. “She’s a lucky girl. You’ve always been so sensitive and so handsome.”
Ashton uncomfortably shuffled for a second. Cheryl cocked her head down to conceal her smile.
“Hey, it’d be great if you could help me with something. There’s an air conditioner in Mel’s room that’s too heavy for me to get out of the window. Any chance you wouldn’t mind removing it?”
Naturally, the young man was agreeable to going upstairs with Cheryl, even if it was to remove an air conditioner from Cheryl’s daughter’s room. As the duo arrived at the top of the stairs, Cheryl offered a new plan. “Actually, can we get the air conditioner out of the window of my room? I don’t want Chuck to get hurt removing it himself.”
Cheryl opened her bedroom door. For the briefest of seconds, Ashton wondered if he’d died and entered heaven. Cheryl’s bedroom significantly deviated from Ashton’s expectations. He expected an erotic paradise. Instead, the room was kind of boring. Sure, the walls were painted a soft, seductive pink. But the room seemed similar to that of Ashton’s own parents. A few photos were hung throughout: one of Ronny and Mel (the now teenage Winters children), one of Chuck and Cheryl on their wedding day, and an anniversary photo taken last year. But the banal nature of the room was shattered when Ashton looked at the blood-red satin sheets that adorned the bed.