Spooktacular Classics are dried-up chunks of word vomit which I like to regurgitate every time a Halloween Spooktacular event rolls onto the Interwebs scene.

You’ve been warned.
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Dark Arts Lovers

Nude
He takes lipstick from her purse
Scarlet red
Like blood
She takes it
And draws a pentagram
The floor is stained
With impure thoughts
He grips black candles
Sparks a flame
Piercings glint
Shadows dance upon their faces
Clouding reason and rationality
He binds her
Cold chains dangling loose
Blindfolded
She chants
He joins the chorus
A ripple moves them
Arouses them
Arouses spirits
Floating misshapen shadows appear
He pulls her hair hard
Excited
Enthralled
She moans
Begging him
Begging the spirits released
With bound hands she scratches
Drawing blood
It trickles onto
The center of the pentagram
He bites her shoulder
Sensually
Teasingly
Rough
Penetrating pleasure
Spirits fly hazily above
Thrusting the lovers
Into bliss
Heavy
Breathing
Nails dig into rotting floorboards
Chains rattle endlessly
Blindfold is lost
In the heat-inducing moment
They bare themselves
To each other
To the spirits
Reckless
Abandon
Inhibitions released
Binding metal collapses
She takes control
Laughing
Sexy
On top of the world
Riding
Bared breasts
Bouncing
Flesh from his chest
Beneath fingernails
Wrapped in the moment
They embrace lips
Tongues dance wickedly
A nibble
Harder
Blood drips down grinning chins
Devilish tattoos
Glisten with sweat
The spirits dance
She grabs a candle
Wax pours
White hot
He squirms in approval
He rolls
Hand presses firmly to her throat
Allowing air
Allowing pleasure
She gasps with desire
They shiver in unison
The spirits shimmer
Culminating in
Screaming
Both
All
Painful
Erotic
Sensual
Pleasurable release