The end of October 2008 is looming, and that reminded me of the successful Halloweenfests of past years. So I thought I ought to do a new story to honor Joe Doe's favorite holiday. Bear with me; this is a very short, last-minute production (written in one day) and has not had the repeated scrutiny to which my other stories have been subjected. A MEMORABLE HALLOWEEN by C. Lakewood "Dannit, Heela! High dah AH hatta gah?" His voice was garbled by the elaborate werewolf mask. He pulled it off his head. "This goddamn thing," he sputtered. "Can't see out of it hardly...and can't talk so's anybody can understand.... "It does sound like you're only half-human, George." Sheila Adler sat up in bed as she answered her husband. "Which is good, considering -- but I can understand you. (I ALWAYS understand you.) And you know you have to go to the Benbows' big Halloween party because Larry is your boss." She grimaced. "I'm sorry I can't go with you, but these cramps are going to get worse before they get better. Besides, I can feel a sick headache coming on." "I'm sorry you're under the weather -- 'specially since you would've looked so hot in that Morticia Addams get-up. But I just can't stand that fat fuck, Benbow the Bimbo. Bad enough I have to put up with him at work, and THEN he horns in on the poker game...." "Well, I don't like him, either; he IS pretty loathsome. But be fair about the 'fat' -- you two ARE about the same size...and both of you could could stand to lose a few pounds." She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. "I know you like to claim that you're 'just big-boned,' George, but trust me...." She ran her eye over his costume: dark sweatshirt; ragged pants; paw-gloves, hairy and clawed; scuffed black boots; one-of-a kind mask.... "Though I must admit that outfit has sort of a slimming effect on you...." "Think so?" He struck a pose. "Okay, maybe it's just his swelled head that makes him seem bigger. And I think he plans to wear that stupid Superman costume again this year. Makes him look like 10 pounds of shit in a 5-pound bag." "Whatever. Now scat! You've got time before the party for a few hands of poker, and I want to try to get some sleep." She lay down again and rolled over. "I'm sure you'll have a memorable Halloween, George, if you just try. 'Night." George sighed, put on his "long-suffering-husband" face, and left. ****************************** As soon as she heard George drive off, Sheila jumped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom, dropping her nightgown in her wake. While she pinned up her tawny hair, she briefly admired herself in the mirror -- newly-shaved crotch and temporarily trimmer silhouette (due to a loss of water weight). Then she began putting bronzer all over her body. "I'll get the goods on that two-timing rat bastard this time," she muttered, as she finished darkening her normally pink skin and went on to apply exotic makeup -- particularly around her eyes. A long black wig and green contact lenses completed the preliminaries. Back in the bedroom, she scowled as she dug out her secret costume. "If that casanova thought I was 'hot' as Morticia, wait'll he sees 'the Harem Girl.' It'll be a 'memorable Halloween,' all right...for both of us." ****************************** Later that evening, the Benbow party was in full swing, and no one took particular notice of the diaphanously clad harem girl who arrived unescorted. She was seductively dressed, certainly, but no more so than the score of other hot-to-trot females for which Larry's parties were famous (or infamous, depending on whether you were a horny husband or a jealous wife). Not wanting to be outdone, she slipped into a bathroom and ditched her panties. The move was productive, since she was more concerned with concealing her face than her cunt, and her harem pants were considerably more sheer than her veil (which effectively concealed her face, except for her eyes). Sheila spotted the werewolf right away, but didn't see Superman (just as well, since Larry WAS a pig), and she knew none of the other people there at all well, so she figured the chance she'd be recognized was minimal. She sidled up to the wolfman (who, because of his mask, was sipping his drink through a straw) and rubbed herself against him. Having thus attracted his attention, it didn't take long before the two of them were hurrying off to an unoccupied bedroom. ****************************** Immediately, they sprawled on the bed, breathing heavily, and he reached for both his mask and her veil. But she slapped his hands away. "Unmask at midnight, not before...okay?" she murmured in what she imagined was a Middle Eastern accent. He nodded and turned his attention to her harem pants. Sheila was somewhat surprised by his intensity. George had seemed to be less and less interested lately -- more evidence that he was getting something on the side. But the feral nature of his costume, the provocative nature of hers, and the ineffable delight of anonymous sex with an unknown slut combined to produce the vigor and stamina he'd not showed since ...well...their honeymoon. He went in bareback, as he always had, and would likely make a mess, as he always did, but at least she wasn't worried about getting pregnant; George also always "fired blanks." They began with her on top, and, as she rode him remoselessly, she gloated about what a hell she would make his life...right up to the divorce that would leave him nearly penniless. (Maybe the miserable pig would lose weight THEN!) But, when he flipped them over, she decided to lie back, relax, and enjoy it; it was, after all, the last piece of ass the sonofabitch was ever going to get from HER. It took him seemingly forever to cum. Meanwhile, she'd lost count of her own orgasms. "A hell of a lot of 'em, anyway," she thought, blissfully. Lying there, weak and gasping, she glanced at the bedside clock. It was still fairly early, and she knew she was going to want more. If only he could get it up again.... And he did! "Costume sex," she mused. "I should have gotten into this years ago." ****************************** In the encore, he fucked her from behind, wolf-style. She grunted her appreciation as he pounded her relentlessly. After a while, though, he pulled all the way out, and then surprised her by suddenly grasping her buttocks, pulling them farther apart, and slithering his prick right up her asshole. "Bastard!" Sheila hissed and bit her veil savagely to stifle her outrage. "He's been wanting to bugger me for years, that pervert, and now he's finally done it," she fumed silently. "Thank god he doesn't know it's me." At length, they both managed to cum again and then collapsed in a barely-conscious heap. It was 11:41, and she dragged herself from the bed, pulled her harem pants up (despite drooling both front and rear), and slipped from the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. Her car was parked only half a block away, and she was soon headed home. The whole distance, she recounted out loud, "all the ways that rotten prick will pay...and pay...and pay...." ****************************** She hung the wig and harem costume in the closet, removed her makeup, and slid into bed, wondering idly how long George would search the party for her. She was still snickering when her evening's exertions caught up with her, and she fell asleep. ****************************** George's elaborate attempts to be quiet woke her up. It was 2:27. She called out to him, and he appeared in the bedroom doorway, looking apologetic and slightly drunk. "Didn' wanna wake you up," he began. As her bleary eyes adjusted, she also realized that he was wearing only a tee-shirt and boxer shorts. "Wh-what happened to you?" she blurted. "Oh, this?" He plucked at his tee-shirt. "Hee, hee!" He pulled a huge wad of bills from his waistband. "Fortune really smiled t'night, honey. Benbow was at the game, obnoxious as usual, but got so excited on the second hand that he split his damn Superman suit. 'Course he had to have a costume for his fucking party, so he bought the wolfman outfit...paid a lot more'n it was worth...but he was happy with it...an' I couldn't go to the party in my skivvies, so I just stayed there an' played poker...wound up the big winner...cleaned ever'body else out...an' the other guys were okay with that 'cause at least Benbow left early...." Sheila blinked. "So HE wore the werewolf costume to the party?" George nodded happily. "Yeah, an' deserved it, too. Crappy costume. But I guess you were right -- 'bout us bein' the same size -- it fit him perfeck...-ect...-ly. Well, you go on back to sleep, an' I'll sack out in the spare room. Sorry 'bout wakin' you up...." And he tottered back down the hall, whistling a merry tune (softly but off-key). ****************************** Sheila lay stunned for a long time, re-living the night's events over and over. Then, suddenly, she sat up. "Oh, shit!" she gasped, flung herself out of bed, and lurched to the bathroom. After throwing up, she douched repeatedly, desperately, and then crept back to bed, where she cried herself to sleep. "A memorable Halloween," indeed.