Nasty Habit - A Halloween Tale

Suddenly, I had no idea what to say. I went into the bathroom to get a washcloth so she could clean up. I looked into the mirror as the water warmed up; I can't say I thought I was looking at any kind of a good guy. I had never treated Samantha like that before – ever. I realized I had to do something special for her, so I started the water in the tub. I carefully picked her up and placed her in the tub. She didn't, or wouldn't, say a word to me.

I ended up washing her hair and combing it out. I dried her carefully and laid her on the bed again. Only this time I gave her a very slow soft massage. Toward the end of the massage she drifted off into a quiet sleep. I was watching TV when she awoke. I half expected Samantha to either call the cops or call a lawyer after the spanking and marathon fucking. Instead we began to talk, to really listen to what the other was saying. When we weren't talking, we would just cuddle and hold one another. I realized how much I loved her and needed her.

Marianne called the next day to invite me to coffee, I didn't go. I called her during the week and explained what was going on. I was surprised when I heard my voice suggest we stop seeing one another for a while. I was relieved when Marianne agreed and said it was time for her to invite someone else for coffee.

Things between Samantha and I changed completely. Over the next few days and weeks Sam and I cleared the air about just every aspect of our lives, or marriage; everything - but one.

I needed her to confess, so that I could confess – then I knew we could go forward with a fresh start. I didn't want either one of us feeling any guilt for whatever we may have done for whatever the reason we had done it.

Try as I might, she wouldn't do it. I even brought up the timing of our problems with a vague reference to the Halloween party. Nothing. I began to suspect that maybe she just couldn't do it; maybe she felt too guilty. One thing that had really helped us open up our communication was to write or tell stories that illustrated how we saw things.

I decided to write her a story about what I had seen that Halloween night. I wrote it exactly as it happened, from fondling the mermaid to witnessing the tryst between the couple in the garden; then I read it to her. To say that I was surprised when Samantha grinned, then smiled and finally began to laugh as I told my tale, would not be an understatement. I couldn't believe it, I was stunned. She seemed to be utterly free of any feelings of guilt. Then she said something that shattered my world.

"Oh my God Bill, I can't believe that you saw that. I wonder if they knew you were watching? That would be so erotic to have someone watching you..." Sam's eyes glazed over for a moment, and then she refocused. "I was coming out of one of the bathrooms and this woman comes up and asks me if she can borrow my costume. She said that her husband was raised Catholic; and attended Catholic school from kindergarten all the way through college. She said the poor guy has this huge fetish for all things Catholic involving women. She even has a Catholic school girls' uniform that she wears for him sometimes. Isn't that the kinkiest thing you've ever heard?

"So I decided to let her borrow it. We went into a bedroom to change. I decided to just wait for her; that's why I ended up drinking too much that night. When she returned she was so happy. When she removed the habit I saw her sex, her husband's semen was dripping down her thighs. I'd never seen anything like that before; it made me feel all funny and strange, kind of excited and guilty at the same time.

"This woman loved her husband so much that she was able to be free with him. She could indulge him and doing that made her happy too. I wanted that, for us. But I didn't know how to talk to you about it. I tried to initiate some things, but you resisted; I felt like such a failure. I think that was why I started arguing with you about the stupidest things.

"Bill, you've always treated me as a complete equal. So much of what we do involves us compromising to maintain that equality. But that wasn't enough and at the same time it was too much. I wanted to experience freedom from compromise; I didn't want to settle for...the same old us. But I just couldn't tell you about what I needed. I was afraid you would think – less of me.

"That day when you spanked me, I was really fighting you at first. But then I wasn't; I didn't want to fight you anymore." Sam looked down at the floor and paused. "I wanted to be dominated by you. I needed to be taken, I had to be fucked. And you did Bill, you fucked me so good. Bill, I've never come so hard or so many times in my life.

"Afterwards, you treated me so lovingly, so gently. My heart just melted open completely to you. I was free, I was free to be honest with you. I wasn't afraid anymore. I love you so much Bill." Tears filled Sam's eyes. I scooped her up and carried her to our bed. We made slow, sweet perfect love.

It was in the sweet afterglow of our love that I understood how truly fucked I was. I knew she would eventually think more clearly about my story. The pieces would fall into place and she would realize that I must have thought that it was her getting fucked by the Devil. I heard her voice in my head, "Well Bill, quite an interesting response. You think you're watching me fucking around on you and you don't say word one – you don't do anything about it? – or did you?"

I was fucked and I knew it. I didn't know if I should confess or keep quiet. I was sinking into a deep quandary of confusion, completely unsure about what to do. I felt Samantha move beside me and I heard her whisper my name. I opened my mouth to speak – nothing came out.

Thank God she slapped me.

It took a while for Samantha to begin forgiving me. She said that forgiveness is like sobriety, "it's one day at a time and you can't take anything for granted." But she did forgive me.

We attended the Henderson's Halloween party again. It was just as wild as the last one. There was catching up and filling in (the story of my fall and resurrection through Sam's forgiveness figured prominently.) While I hardly left Sam's side, I did notice that a number of Samantha's friends kept me under a constant surveillance. I can't I say I really minded. Sam and I were together – and that was the only thing that mattered. Iknew it, Sam knew it.

Oh, and about that ridiculous rumor that a significant part of Sam's forgiving me involved a dog collar, a ping-pong paddle, and a large strap-on dildo - don't you believe a single word!