Halloween Birthday

tagIncest/TabooHalloween Birthday

Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. I know NOTHING about cars. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is. Special thanks to goducks111 for his help and making this a better story.
This is an entry for the Literotica Halloween 2020 Story Contest.
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It's October 31, about 6:00 PM. My big brother Jim has just finished making dinner and doing the dishes. It's my birthday. He made my favorites for dinner: spaghetti, meatballs, and a chocolate cake. Yes, it was a box mix, but I love chocolate cake. Mom is working her second job to support us because dad died years ago in the Iraq war. That leaves only my brother to make us dinner and my birthday cake.
As soon as dinner is made, I rush upstairs to put on my costume; I am an ancient Greek goddess. I take off my pants and shirt. Then I put on white shorts, a white shirt, and a sheet to make a toga. Curl and tease my long honey blonde hair and exaggerate my makeup. I wear a fake pearl neckless from mom; we are way too poor for real pearls. I think I look damn good looking for twelve. I am using mom's bra, and it's stuffed with a shirt of mine in each cup.
On seeing me, Jim wants to object, his mouth is hanging open, ready to explain why my outfit is wrong.
He is starting to say "No," when I interject, "Hurry up, we are late! We need to pick up Jasper and Dawn still. Come on, let's go!" I scream as I run out to his car.
We are poor, like really poor. Mom doesn't have a great job, so she works two jobs. Jim should be in college, but he is working to help mom until I get into college. Jim is a loving brother, but Einstein, he is not. I have the brains in the family. However, Jim works on cars and has a knack for fixing them. The first time I saw his car, I laughed at it. It was full of rust, and no interior, rats, and other vermin ate it! Gross!
As he repaired cars for other people, he was paid in parts and cash. Everyone knew he wanted parts, especially old parts, in good condition. A friend of his painted the car. Now it's still a 1934 Ford Tudor, but it has a beautiful maroon paint job. The thing that Jim excels at is the interior. On the outside of the car, it's a typical 1934. That's a cool car. Under the hood is a reliable small block engine. No turbos or superchargers, this is a cruiser. Remember, we are poor, those things cost a ton of money. Don't ask me what those things are; I just know the words from hearing them for so long at dinner.
On the inside, it's ultra-modern, with satellite radio, video screens in the back, rearview backup tv, air conditioning, a dark red plush interior with glowing red gauges. The car had no direct lights like most cars have. This car has recessed red LED lighting. At night, it's super cool with the lights on.
Would you believe it? Jasper and Dawn love being driven anywhere with me. I either sit up front with my brother or in the back with my friends. Tonight, I feel like a million bucks; I am up front with the window down. I want everyone to see me.
My friends live down the street a few blocks. We pick them up and then cruise out to a much better neighborhood. We have had good luck in wealthier neighborhoods, the kids aren't as aggressive, and the candy is much better.
At home, we get a piece of candy from a $4.00 "300-piece bag." Out here, they give us full-size candy bars, generally several at a time. It's much better pickings. It's also cool because Jim lets us go out by ourselves. We don't have a parent nagging and following us like everyone else does.
We are talking and giggling as we walk between the houses. We never saw the four older boys that step out and cut us off. They must be eighteen! Oh shit, where is Jim? I don't see a parent, no overhead light near us. OH FUCK, we screwed up!
They are all leering at me specifically. I have a terrible feeling about this.
The tall fat boy is in a skeleton costume and says to me, "Hey, little girl. I think you want to spend time with us. If you stay quiet, nobody gets hurt."
Is this how women get assaulted? Of fuck, they think I am sixteen, maybe older. They want to rape me? My stomach is swirling, I want to puke. I am literally getting sick at what they might do to me. I can't talk, I can't scream, and I am frozen from fear.
I then jump out of my skin as I feel fingers on my shoulder. Fuck, more are behind me!
Then my life changed when I hear, "I think you boys better move along before you get hurt," from my brother. He moves in front of me. He is in a pitch-black ninja outfit. No shoes, just black material.
The big fat kid charges my brother. Like lightning, he lowers his stance, screams a short word, and then throws a fist while pulling the other fist back. The punch confused me. The fat boy is holding his stomach, and my brother is helping him to the ground. Damn, that was cool. He stands up, puts his arms out wide, and pushes us back, away from the other boys. We then walk around them and to the next house. Jim stayed with us for the rest of the night, like a regular parent.
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It's exactly four years later, this is my sixteenth birthday. I am too old for trick-or-treating now. I am at a party with friends from school. Now I have real boobs; I no longer need to stuff mom's bra. Jim dropped Dawn, Jasper, and I off at the party. We are too cool to be seen with my older brother now. My friends and I are much better looking than most of the other girls. Individually, a couple girls look better than us. As a group, no three are is as hot.
We know not to drink the beer, nothing good will come of that. We are doing soda, 7-Up specifically, it looks like a drink. Jim taught me that. As the party continues, the vibe is changing. The boys are getting handsy. The sluts don't mind, but me, my friends, and several other girls are getting nervous. I think it's time to leave. I text Jim, "get here quick, turning bad."
We live about thirty minutes away; I don't like this. Do I call 911? We move to a quiet corner. That was a terrible mistake. Two older boys come to our table. They smell of beer and are loud. One grabs my arm.
He says to me, "I like you. You're good looking. Come with me, and I'll show you a special time."
I scream, "I am only sixteen!"
He laughs at me, "Nice try bitch. Look, I need to screw, and you're the best here. You ARE coming with me."
I see fingers wrap around his neck from behind. I see those fingers turn red and then quickly white.
The boy drops my arm and yells, "What the fuck, dude. You can have next."
One of his legs is kicked out, and he falls to the floor. His tries to hit Jim, he misses, he is off balance from drinking. Jim rotates, punches the boy in the stomach while pulling the other arm back. I have learned that's a martial art move. He is on the floor in severe pain and holding his stomach.
Jim shouts, "Anyone else want a shot at me?"
Not surprisingly, no takers.
Jim shouts again, "We are leaving now. Anyone else coming with?"
About twenty girls are now surrounding us with their arms around him or trying to place a hand on him. We stroll out of the house and to his car.
Jim suggests, "I have room for one more. Call your parents and friends, I'll wait here until you get picked up."
It's an hour before all but one girl has been picked up. We take her home. She sat up front with Jim and never noticed how cool the car was. She only had eyes for my brother.
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It's two years later, Friday, October 30. I just got home from work. I have a part-time job now so I can start saving for college. Jim is ready to take me out for dinner. He has no idea of my plan. I may have hinted that he is taking me out to dinner.
Jim asks me, "Ready to go?"
I give him my best smile, "I am, but you aren't. I have a plan for my birthday, and I won't take no for an answer. Hurry up a pack a bag for two days. You need one good outfit and a nice outfit for being outside all day. Something that would impress a woman, kind of like me. No concert t-shirts. Hurry, we need to get moving."
Jim wants to resist. After looking at me, he realizes it's futile. He runs to his room. Quickly he has one small bag and a second pair of nice shoes. When he opens his trunk, my bag and a box are already in the trunk. He chuckles and adds his bag. We are soon on the road heading towards Atlanta. My tummy tickles, I am excited.
I pay for dinner at a truck stop. That surprises the hell out of Jim. We pull into the southern suburbs of Atlanta. I can't afford a downtown hotel room; we get a cheap queen-sized bed near the airport at a Ferguson. What's a Ferguson? I have no idea, never heard of them. The internet found them, and the rooms are cheap. It's midnight, we are both tired. With just one bed, Jim is nervous.
I hope I set him at ease, "I'm eighteen tomorrow. I've never slept next to a man. You leave your boxers on. I'll step into the washroom, clean up, then strip …" He jumps in fright. "… to my bra and panties." Now he is relieved. "You will hold me. We need to get up at 6:00 AM."
I can see the disappointment in his eyes. He wanted to sleep in. He resigns himself to a short night of sleep. I hate doing this, but we don't have much choice. He won't hold me on his own. I push myself back until I am in his arms. I can hear him sigh, but he doesn't complain. I fall asleep listening to his heartbeat slow down.
+++++
The alarm goes off at 6:00. It's Halloween. I love Halloween and having my birthday on Halloween. I rush to take a shower and get dressed. While I am dressing, Jim takes his shower. I am ready before he finishes. He is quite startled to see my outfit. I am curling my hair still, but I am nearly done. He is looking at me like he can't believe what I am wearing.
I have mom's dark blue satin robe over a tiny black bikini. I don't want him seeing the bikini yet, he would throw a fit. My smile curls up, and he has no idea why. It's 7:00 before we are again on the road. We eat a few breakfast sandwiches on the way north. We only have a thirty-minute drive today, our destination is an abandoned shopping mall.
We pull up, and there are a few people there already with some cool looking cars. They are setting up signs for parking and showing cars. We are the second "Show" car there.
Jim is at a complete loss; he looks at me with an open mouth. He is clueless.
I use a few short, simple words, "In a few hours they will open this car show to the public. We have two hours to detail your car."
Jim looks unhappy, "I don't have my stuff, the car looks like hell."
I get out of the car and have him pop the trunk. Inside that "extra box" … everything we need to detail the car.
I apologize, "I know two hours isn't enough. It will have to do. Give me jobs, and I will help the best I can."
For two hours, we speed through cleaning every part of the car. Is it perfect? No. But it's much better than it was. Now it's my turn to get ready. Around my waist, I add a hoop that has a cat tail. I add a headband that has cat ears on it. I exaggerate my eyelashes, paint on whiskers, add pink to my cheeks, and black on the tip of my nose. I take off my shoes and socks, I have small black slippers. I turn towards Jim.
Jim is motionless. He stares at me, and his cock grows in front of me. He gets embarrassed and turns around to adjust himself. I laugh internally; I don't want to hurt his feelings.
When Jim turns back around, "Wha, wha, what are you doing?"
I purr and use my hands like cat claws, "I am cat woman!"
I notice that a crowd of people are around us. Most are staring at me.
I go into sales mode, yelling, "Come get a great look … at this awesome car! Check out the interior. I climb into the car, and everyone rushes to get in a doorway and follow me. Once they see the car interior, their geek turns on, and there is a collective, "Woah, how fucking cool."
I exit the car and yell with a breathy voice, "Jim built the car, the motor, and the interior. Have you ever seen anything as cool?"
The organizers see the huge crowds and allow me to use their mic and speakers. That was a huge help; it's easier to speak sexy when I don't have to yell. For eight hours, I invite people to look at the car, talk about the highlights, and describe the interior.
I know many of them are there to perve on me. Its extreme fun showing off my body. Some stare at my breasts. Some watch them sway back and forth. Some look at my pussy. I bet they're wondering if I shave. In this cat woman outfit, I have never felt so sexy. The men can't help watching me walk around the car as I talk about it. We have by far the largest crowd.
When I walk, I am like a runway model. My right leg crosses over to the left side, and then my left leg follows up by crossing to the right side of me. That forces my hips to swivel and my breasts to bounce. This is a ton of fun showing off.
If someone watches too much, I suggest they get me a soda or a hot dog. Jim and I had way more soda and hotdogs than we needed. I start sharing with children that look like they're hungry … if their parents allow it.
Soon, Jim is ignoring me. He has a group of people around him with business cards and pens in hand. It seems like two hours later, and the organizers are asking for their PA equipment back. They get big hugs from me. It's 5:00 PM, and they close. There is a line by Jim still, I help by standing at his side.
There are two types of people talking to him. One type wants to hire him to work in their custom garage. The other type is individuals that want their car to be the best. They want Jim to redo their interiors.
I help by walking ten feet away and shouting, "Anyone here to offer Jim a job working on other people's cars, please come over here!"
Half the group moves to me, and every one of them has a huge smile on their face, even the one woman.
I shout out, "We're not negotiating here. I need your company information and a phone number. We will contact you and set up a formal interview. If you have a business card, write your number on the back if you want him to call a different number. Otherwise, hand me your cards, please."
For the next twenty minutes, I exchange business cards for a breathy, "Thank you, have a safe drive home," and a handshake.
When they are all done, Jim crushes me in a hug. I didn't expect that at all. He has tears in his eyes.
To break the awkward moment, I whisper to Jim, "Three miles from here is a lovely steak house. You owe me dinner for my birthday. We can skip trick-or-treating; my feet are killing me."
As we are getting into our car, a man calls out. He is older, probably in his fifties. He has big arms and the man, even though he is older, looks quite fit. He has salt and pepper hair and balding on top. He has a permanent smile on his face and a handlebar mustache.
The guy leans over, so he can talk to us, "Hey, I saw your car. I like the work you did. Do you have time to talk?"
Jim sounds sad, "I would love nothing more than to talk shop with you. However, it's my sister's eighteenth birthday today. It seems I'm taking her out to a steak restaurant about three miles from here. I hope they have chocolate cake for her. It's her favorite."
The guy smiles, "I have a bunch of people going over there. I'm buying if you stop by. Otherwise, here is my card. My booth was busy as well, but each of my people told me about your car."
A massive 4×4 Ford pick-up stops, and a lady yells out, "Gary, I'm hungry. Come on."
Jim then surprises the hell out of me. He gets out of the car!
Jim says to Gary, "Drive my car. That's the best way to get a feel for it. Careful, my sister bites. I'll catch a ride with this monster. You OK with that?"
Gary looks at me, "Son, you are trading an eighteen-year-old-goddess for a fifty-five well-used brunet. I'll make that trade any day. I'll get your sister there, no problem."
He yells at the truck, "Martha, take this nice young man to dinner." He chuckles loud. "No, you can't keep him, you're stuck with me!"
Martha yells out, "Dammit Gary, this is the best-looking thing I have seen all day."
Martha is looking at Jim, "Get in, cutie, we'll follow them."
Jim gets in the big 4×4, while Gary gets in our car with me sitting next to Gary. I am nervous about this.
Gary says to me, "I'm safe, I won't harm you." He looks around. "How do you start this spaceship up?"
I point at a button, using my breathy voice again, "Push that one. It's manual, fifth is warp speed … if you can handle it, big boyyyyyyy."
Gary laughs hard, then looks at me. He eyes me up and down, whistles, and then says, "My oh my, you are walking trouble for any married man. I doubt my wife saw you or no way I am allowed in this car. You two are going to be a ton of fun, I can feel it."
We pull out of the parking lot. Gary is being cautious about driving the car. It's not long before he relaxes.
Gary is smiling, "Not only does it look cool, but it's comfortable and feels … natural. I almost know what each button does. I love what he did with the lights. That is way cool. I'm going to hire your brother; I need him to elevate my place to the national level. That's something I have been working towards for years."
We pull up to the restaurant, he parks in the back of the lot, next to his own truck. They were right behind us the whole way. Both couples, Gary and Martha, Jim and I, walk arm in arm into the restaurant. Gary stays behind to talk to the hostess. Martha guides us to the back room. There we meet all the garage employees. I take my robe off. Every man is staring at me, … and my chest. Jim rolls his eyes.
I can't help it. It's a huge turn-on seeing them so filled with lust, staring at me in my bikini still. Imagine them if I were naked. Ooooh. My pussy is leaking from that thought.
Gary comes back and introduces us to his crew. He then tells them who we are. Every one of them knew exactly who we were. We were "The Babe" and the guy with a "Super cool interior." Jim continues talking about the different variations he can do and then other ideas he has. They all look at him like he is speaking another language. Dinner is served, and it's incredible.
Jim explains how the car looks even cooler at night. They all want to view the car after we finish dinner. They finally talk about the other cool stuff they saw and how their vehicles stack up against others. It seems there were cars there that were better, but they were done by individuals, that means not a threat. They are worried about a few competitors, due to their work being so close in quality.
Martha is first to see it.
Martha shouts out, "Oh. Oh. You sly dog. Jim is the difference-maker." She is thinking. "With him, we can do SEMA?" (SEMA is the nation's largest car show for upgrading and modifying cars).
Gary smiles, "Next year. We don't have enough time for this year, and I still need to hire the kid. We need to show SEMA some finished stuff. They will flip over what I saw."
The next thing I hear is clapping from behind me. There is a large chocolate cake with a single sparkler in the center. Gary and Jim are the first to start singing "Happy Birthday," to me. Soon, the entire room is singing. It's good they can fix cars; they suck at singing. Thankfully, the thirty restaurant employees are pretty good.
Me, I am crying, of course. I am embarrassed. I laugh at myself. I am almost naked, and that doesn't bother me. People sing to me, and then I get embarrassed. How weird. This is a bunch of people singing. When I say a bunch, there is close to twenty of us, thirty from the restaurant. Then they open the retractable walls, and everyone in the restaurant is singing to me as well. With my bikini on, it's easy to see the red all the way down to my breasts.

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