A Halloween to Remember

The doorbell rang and I opened the front door just in time to see the UPS truck pull away. On the stoop sat a plain cardboard box. My heart sped up as I bent to pick it up because I knew what was in the package. Kicking the door closed behind me, I took it into the kitchen and set it on the counter.

Mitch, I can't believe I let you talk me into this. I thought as I stared at the cardboard. The contents of the box on my counter was the end result of a party invitation that my husband and I had received. It had been decades, since I'd gone to a Halloween party. The last one had been all about princess dresses, cartoon characters, face painting, and other child appropriate activities. The party my husband Mitch and I had been invited to was explicitly labeled "No children allowed."

"Come on Leslie, it'll be fun," he'd said. "We haven't had any adult fun in a long time."

"I beg your pardon," I replied and slapped his arm. "If you don't think that what we did last night was fun, and 'adult', then you won't be getting any more of it for a long time."

Mitch and I were in our fifties and empty nesters. We took advantage of our childless home to rekindle the active sex life that had, by necessity been put on hold while children lived in our house. Not to say that we hadn't been physically intimate throughout our child-rearing years, but the wilder fun we'd enjoyed before kids (a sex swing, toys, and cavorting naked through the house) had definitely been suppressed due to our curious kids. The night before we'd gotten the party invitation, Mitch and I had spent long hours enjoying an erotic massage that ended with us both loudly climaxing. I sighed reliving the pleasure of that evening.

"Hey, I never said that wasn't fun. In fact, it was spectacular," Mitch quickly tried to correct his misstep.

"Damn right it was. And if you're a good boy, I'll do it again with you," I flashed a bit of the dominatrix side that I knew he loved.

"Come on Leslie, let's go to the party." It was his final appeal and he said it with such desire and conviction that I agreed.

And now our outfits, the ones that we'd shopped for on-line together, were sitting in the brown box on my counter. I thought back to the night we'd bought them. It had started with two martinis and my protesting that I had no idea what to wear.

"Leslie, you could wear a burlap sack and look hot," Mitch had said mixing a second drink for each of us.

"Hot? Who said anything about looking hot for this?"

"Hon, it's an adult costume party. It says so right on the invitation," he pointed to the elaborate paper invite. Who sends written invitations any more? Everyone does it online, I'd thought. Chiding myself I realized, Jonathan is hosting this. He's over the top about everything. I nodded to my husband, "You're right."

"Let's do a couples costume," Mitch poured the drinks.

"Bonnie and Clyde?"

"Booooring! How about Tom Cruise and what's her name from Eyes Wide Open?"

"You mean Eyes Wide Shut, and that's Nicole Kidman." I took a sip from my drink. "No offense honey, and I hate to break the news, but I'm no Nicole Kidman and you're not Maverick."

"Hey, don't sell us short. We can still hold our own." My husband was right. We'd both worked hard to avoid having mom and dad bods and were in better shape than we'd ever been. Nobody would mistake us for super models, but I had a well-toned body that didn't jiggle with cellulite and Mitch garnered plenty of admiring looks from our female friends.

"How about Greek god and goddess?" I suggested.

"Not bad, but spending the evening dressed in a bedsheet while juggling drinks seems like a recipe for disaster."

"Your right."

"You should be Cat Woman," Mitch suggested.

"You have got to be kidding! There's no way I could pull that off." I was thinking about the outfit that Halle Berry made famous.

"You absolutely could and then some," Mitch typed furiously at his phone. "See?" He turned the screen to me. Surprisingly it was not a picture from the 2004 movie, with the star and her rock-hard, bare abs, but an image of Anne Hathaway from the Dark Knight movie. It's not as if that outfit wasn't sexy, skin-tight with thigh-high boots, but it was much more like what I could wear as a fifty-year-old. My interest was piqued. "Okaaay. And you'd be Batman?"

"How about Zorro?" He pulled up another photo showing Antonio Banderas from the 1998 movie. I'd always thought he was so sexy in that role. "Not really 'couples', but sure," I said enthusiastically. The second martini was letting lose my randy feelings.

"Cat Woman and Zorro it is. Let's order them right now," he pulled out the laptop. After a quick Google search we found both outfits in the correct size on an adult costume website. I pulled out the credit card and clicked through the site to place the order. The sex we had that night as I fantasized about being taken by a sexy masked lover, and I'm sure Mitch about screwing Cat Woman in thigh-high, spike heeled leather boots, was amazing. We never made it out of the kitchen and both came multiple times as we vigorously fucked on the counter, the table, and the cool tile floor. Now, the result of that alcohol fueled decision was sitting on our countertop.

I poked at the box with my finger as if there was a wild animal inside of it. This is ridiculous, I thought. It's costumes in a box. Just open the damn thing. I grabbed scissors and cut the sealing tape. Under layers of newsprint stuffing lay the two plastic wrapped outfits. The picture on the Zorro package showed a ripped model sporting the cape, mask and sword of the movie star. I swooned a little imagining that was exactly how my husband would look. I dug deeper and pulled out the costume meant for me. My heart sank. The cover photo showed a twenty-something year old model with zero percent body fat sporting the skin-tight outfit. There was no way I'd look that good. I threw it back into the shipping box and petulantly sat down on a kitchen bar stool.

Who am I kidding? There's no way I'm going to look sexy! Even the teenager on the cover doesn't look hot like Anne Hathaway! I buried my face in my hands and held back tears. I'm old, washed up. There's nothing sexy about me. All kinds of negative thoughts rushed through my mind. Then, unbidden, Mitch's face appeared before my closed eyes. On it was the look he gave me the night we ordered the costumes and cavorted in the kitchen. His face was filled with love, and more than little bit of lust. He loves me, I thought. And HE thinks that I'm sexy. Confidence coursed through me. Fuck it! I can do this. With my hot, sexy husband, I can do anything. Fuck Anne Hathaway, fuck everyone. I'm gonna wear this and I'm gonna own it! I pulled the cat woman outfit from the box and tore open the packaging.

There wasn't a whole lot to the costume, but then again that was the point wasn't it? The material was thin, but it looked decently well made. Not too bad, I thought. I can do this. There was a utility belt and a mask with a pair of cat ears made from fake leather. Shoes? Where are the spike heeled shoes? I wondered as I pawed through the box. I read the package carefully, "shoes not included" it said. WTF? Shoes not included. How can this be a cat woman outfit without the damn shoes? The shoes make it! My mind raced. I thought of the CFM heels that Mitch and I had bought years before. My spike heels and the fake costume boots (actually just flared leggings made to look like the upper part of the boots) would definitely work. I squared my shoulders, gathered the pieces of the costume and headed to our bedroom to try on everything.

I stripped in front of a full-length mirror and studied my image. Flat stomach courtesy of hours in the gym doing core work, tight butt, the result of many miles on the stationary bike, and well-defined leg muscles from countless squats. Not bad for an old broad, I thought turning sideways. My thirty-eight DD breasts rested just right on my chest. Not too high that they looked fake, but not droopy like an old lady. I've still got it, I decided and reached for the costume package. The costume was a one-piece affair with a long zipper that ran from crotch to neck. I squirmed into the skin-tight outfit, clipped on the utility belt and settled the mask and cat ears onto my head. When I looked up at my reflection I gasped. Holy shit! I look kinda hot! I raced to the closet to get the CFM heels I kept in the very back. I pulled them on then realized I needed to get the "boots" on first. Laughing while I rearranged everything I stood, fully outfitted, in front of the mirror. TI was surprised by the image before me. The tight spandex clung to every curve, emphasizing my form and concealing my softer, older features. I looked way better than the model on the package cover. I turned left, then right and liked everything I saw in the reflection. The CFM heels and thigh-high boot leggings added a spicy touch. Damn, I look good! I twisted and turned, bent and arched, striking every sexy pose I could think of. They all looked good. Fucking-A! I thought.

I did a second, more careful inspection and saw that the fabric was so thin that I could clearly see the outline of my bra and panties. Kills the image. There was only one solution, Guess I'm going commando! I took off the outfit and stripped naked, then squeezed myself back into the costume before I looked in the mirror. When I did, the image that greeted me was even sexier than it had been before. Without anything between the stretchy fabric and my bare skin, it looked like the black outfit was painted on. The spandex clung to every curve in a supporting way, hid my wrinkles, and emphasized my female form. "I'd do me", I said out loud and laughed. I grabbed a hand mirror to inspect my backside in front of the full-length mirror. Thin seams ran under my butt cheeks making them look just a little more prominent, firm and round, like those of a younger woman. There was another seam that ran vertically up between my cheeks, subtly separating each. Very sexy! I did my best imitation of a twerk and laughed again. I faced forward. Uh oh, I thought. I hope Jonathan is going to have heaters at the party. The spandex clung tightly to my breasts and did nothing to hide my nipples, and actually made them very obvious. I played with the zipper to see if adjusting it might make a difference. What I found was that I could pull it down to my navel without the form-fitting fabric releasing my tits. I looked like one of those movie stars on the red carpet at the Academy Awards dressed in a plunging neckline outfit that showed lots of cleavage. My excitement grew. This is gonna be great. I paused realizing that there would be people that we knew at the party. While I felt confident and sexy alone standing in the bedroom, I wasn't sure that I'd have the same self-assurance in a public setting. Calmly I studied myself even more carefully. Gotta dye my hair, I thought. Add dark make-up around the eyes and even heavier on the face. Nobody will suspect it's me. I was pumped. You've got this girl!

A thought flashed into my brain and. No way Mitch's outfit isn't going to be as hot as mine. I rushed back down to the kitchen, pulled out his costume, and ripped open the package. There was an eye mask of course, a blousy shirt that opened to the navel. Excellent, I thought picturing him in it. A cape and a pair of baggy black pants. No way! Nothing sexy about those. That just isn't going to do. I racked my brain trying to figure out what I could do to make his outfit as provocative as mine. Running tights, I thought. I love the way he looks in running tights. During the cold winter months, Mitch would put on long, skin-tight, spandex running tights to protect his legs from the chill air. Of course, he covered them with baggy shorts, which left me disappointed that I couldn't enjoy the sight of his tight ass and bulging crotch when he ran. Perfect, I decided and replaced the baggy costume pants with a pair of his spandex tights. This is going to be great! My excitement climbed as I envisioned us together at the party in our outfits, then I put everything back into the box. I can't wait until he gets home.

I met him in the kitchen when he got back from work. The open box sat on the counter and I pushed it forward. "The Halloween costumes came today," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping my voice wouldn't betray my excitement.

"Cool." Mitch put down his briefcase and poured himself a glass of water. "Want to hit the gym before dinner?" He sounded totally disinterested.

"No, I went this afternoon," I lied. "But if you want to go, that's alright by me." I was desperately hoping he'd refuse. I stared at him.

Mitch gazed at me. One of the many things I love about my husband is how well he knows me, and in that moment he sensed that something was up. Instead of quizzing me, or pushing back, he nodded his head slightly. "You want me to try on the costume?"

With relief, I let go the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Yes please," I replied as calmly as I could.

"Do I get to see yours?" I could tell that he somehow knew my answer.

"Not just yet."

"Okay." He didn't put up a fight. Oh my god, I love my husband! I thought.

Mitch reached into the box and pulled out his costume. "Looks like somebody's already been checking it out," he poked at the flap I'd opened.

"I just had to. Hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind anything you do Leslie." He kissed me lightly on the lips. "I'm going upstairs and change." He pointed to the picture of the muscular model on the package, "But I should warn you to hold yourself back. You might not be able to resist me," he laughed then headed up to our bedroom.

I sat at the table for what seemed like forever while Mitch got dressed. Eventually he sauntered back into the kitchen. Swaggered was more like it. Mitch was fully decked out in the costume, hat, mask, cape, leather gloves. And he looked even better than I had hoped. Oh my god, so hot!

"I hear that you're in need miss," he said with a wry smile. I recognized the same tone that he used when we role played.

"I've got a powerful need masked stranger."

He took a step toward me. I always thought that tights on a man looked effeminate, even on a superhero. That was because the crotch was smoothed out, hiding the best part of his manhood, reducing him to a Ken Doll. On Mitch, the running tights looked exactly the opposite. Through the breathable mesh at his groin I could see the hint of his semi-erect penis and its perfectly flared mushroom cap. Below, were his succulent round balls, rolling as if they were wild animals yearning to break free. That sight along with his mask and cape, was breathtaking. Heat flashed in my belly, blood poured into my groin, and my labia swelled. In an instant I lost myself in the role play. I was no longer Mitch's wife; I was a sex-crazed bitch in heat. And the man before me wasn't my husband of more than twenty-five years. He was an exotic stranger that had driven me past the edge of desire. His mysteriousness, his foreignness, his total unfamiliarity made me crave him beyond reason.

Mitch sensed what I was feeling. The look in his eyes told me that he too had given himself over to the role. He reached down with a gloved hand and held my jaw. Fixing his eyes on mine he said, "I've got what you need." Feral lust echoed in his words.

"Yes, you do ... and I need it all."

He pulled me up and assaulted my mouth with a passionate kiss. My already swollen labia throbbed, and I felt wetness soak my panties. I wanted him so badly, this masked man, this shadowy interloper; only he could satisfy my uncontrolled desire. I returned his kiss with equal fervor.

"Then you shall have it," he answered drawing his lips away from mine. Leather clad fingers wrapped into my long blonde hair. I knew what he wanted, and I longed to give it to him. I dropped to my knees; his bulging crotch inches from my face. The partially inflated penis I'd seen before was fully erect and straining against the confines of the clingy fabric. His musky smell filled my nostrils and I inhaled deeply savoring his scent. I would have him just the way we both wanted.

With one hand I stroked the rock-hard pole under the fabric while I curled the fingers of my other hand under the elastic waistband. Slowly, carefully, like unwrapping a Christmas present, I eased the edge of the tights down until just the tip of his cock was visible. Even though I knew his cock well, the sight that evening felt brand new and looked extraordinarily beautiful. I kissed the tip gently and was rewarded with his low moan. With both hands I pulled the waistband lower revealing the full length of his erection. Thick, ropey veins stood out in full splendor as they coursed along the length of his turgid manhood. His cock pulsed and swayed, free from the restraint of the spandex as if beckoning me, promising unspeakable pleasure. I tugged more and uncovered his sac and his roiling balls, and more heat surged up from my now sopping pussy. I ran my tongue up the full length of his rigid dick.

Another moan, louder than before, echoed from my masked man. I licked him again and felt his knees buckle slightly at the power of my oral ministration. His fingers wrapped more tightly in my hair encouraging me on. Curling my tongue around the crown of his penis I rose up onto my knees to gain a better position. Then in one motion I dropped my mouth onto his cock, taking it completely into my mouth. "Fuck!" was the expletively that I heard as I pulled him deep inside. His heat and hardness slid over my tongue and hit the back of my throat cutting off my air supply. I didn't care and I pushed myself farther downward forcing the thick cock farther into my throat. The fingers clutching my hair pulled even tighter as my hero bellowed, "Yesss!"

Saliva poured out of my full mouth and I used its slipperiness to massage his balls. Just before I ran out of oxygen I backed off and took a deep breath. Without a pause I dropped back onto him, re-ingesting his full length. He subtly thrust his hips forward meeting my downward plunge. Yes, that's it. Take me, I thought, then pulled backward, and drove forward again. I would have kept on until he exploded in my mouth, but I wanted more. It would only be when this masked stranger truly had his way with me, filling me with first this hardness then his hot seed, that I would be fully satisfied. I pulled my mouth away. "Take all of me masked man. Take me the way I know you want to."

He roughly pulled me to my feet. "Bare yourself vixen. Show me your need." There wasn't going to be any sensual strip tease. I tore my clothes off and threw them aside. Wetness ran down my thighs, a testament to my raging lust.

"Is this what you crave?" I stood turning my palms outward. "Can you feed my hunger with your manliness?" My eyes bored into his. "If so, then have your way with me!"

Once more his gloved hands grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth to his. He invaded me with his tongue, letting loose the passion that had flared between us. I gave myself over to him and went limp in his arms. He caught me and spun me around to face the wooden kitchen table. I offered no resistance. With a shove he bent me over, my bare ass toward his unclothed groin and the throbbing erection that I knew was meant for me. One hand was on my hip, another stroked down the back of my bare thigh. Electric pulsations raced through my body as he nudged my legs wider, opening a clear path to my needy pussy. Obediently I spread my legs putting my swollen labia on display for the stranger's pleasure. That thought excited me further. I arched my back, inviting his penetration.