H is for Halloween

Insecure.

Honey never would have described herself that way. But the tables have turned. Now that she's dating a younger man, Honey is stuck in self-doubt. Will her boyfriend Jacob boost her confidence with a slow ride on Halloween night?

**********

"We had a fight."

"And it only took seven months."

I brushed past a sparkly vampire and plopped onto the barstool between Stella and Pan. My gray koala tail poked my bottom. "I guess the honeymoon is over."

Stella snorted. "Honey, what could you two love birds possibly squabble over?"

"We don't agree on everything," I insisted, trying to make my voice heard over the din of the holiday party inside the bar.

"Your noses are usually so far up each other's butts sniffing for roses. It's sickening how into each other you are."

I frowned at her, my black koala nose wiggling on my face. "Says the woman who got knocked up by her husband for the seventh time."

Pan fist pumped the air, causing the chain to rattle on his guy-in-leather costume. "More crying, more diapers. We got this."

"What horrid opinion did Jacob deign to share with you?" Stella asked, adjusting her pumpkin costume over her plump belly.

"He said that mumble trap rap was better than old school hip hop."

"How dare he!" Stella pounded on the wood table. "Pan, you find the pitchforks, I'll light the torches."

"It wasn't simply what he said. It's who he said it to."

"Whom?"

"His friends. Who I was trying to be cool with. But now I look like a dumb old lady."

Stella put her arm around my shoulder. "That's not fair."

"I know, right?"

"You are our dumb, old lady."

I shrugged off her arm.

"Okay, you are not dumb," Stella clarified.

I said nothing to my best friend.

"Honey," Pan asked with care, "is it important to you to make a favorable musical impression on the people your boyfriend hangs out with?"

"When you put it that way, it sounds silly." I looked across the room at Jacob, socializing in his lumberjack outfit, which he told me he purchased-- from the red flannel shirt to the tan hiking boots--solely to turn me on.

"Don't beat yourself up," Pan said. "It's okay to want them to like you."

"Is it, though?" Stella ate a cheesy nacho from the table next to us, which was populated with more of our associates.

"It's more like..." I hated thinking about this, "Sometimes the ten years separating Jacob and me feels like a chasm. I can't keep up with the latest artists or the hybrid genres or what's playing at the club. And if I'm out of touch with pop culture... "

"What is he, 27?" Stella surmised. "In three years, he will be right there with you."

"And I'll be 40."

"So will we," Pan noted. "And the two of us live with six daily reminders of how old and uncool we are."

Stella pointed at her jack-o'-lantern stomach. "The seventh will join us in a few months."

"And Jacob clearly adores you." Pan partook of the tortilla chips as well. "Look, he's coming this way."

"With his puppy dog tail wagging," Stella snarked.

I shushed them as he approached.

Jacob wrapped his toned arms around my furry waist. "You talking about me?"

"Yes," I told him. "Well, actually about me and my insecurities."

"Which are?" he asked.

I looked at Stella, who was urging me to tell him.

"I was bummed that our musical tastes don't overlap because we are from different generations, and therefore I won't fit in with your buddies and into your life."

Jacob recoiled like a heavyweight had punched him in the jaw. "How...?" He shook himself into an attempt to understand.

"Stella and Pan are helping me work through it."

"We're good at what we do," Pan inserted.

"First," Jacob cradled my hands, "based on our birthdates, we are technically members of the same burned out generation."

My peers eyed him dubiously.

"Second," Jacob gestured behind him, "Ron is wondering when you're coming back to the table, so he can discuss how neo-soul influenced ska and electronica."

"It's a direct line," Stella opined.

"But, but," I was losing ground, "our friends are in different places, not just in our lives. Mine are over here and yours are on the other side of the bar. Would they even get along?" I whined.

"You mean my friend Gaby and your bestie Stella?" Jacob challenged. "Who share the same parents?

He turned to politely elbow through the crowd. He found an empty table and heaved it to a clear location in the middle of the otherwise congested party. "Honey's crew!" he yelled at the cluster around Stella and Pan. "Ron, Gaby!" he yelled at his group. "A round of appetizers on me. Get over here."

Both sides met in the middle.

"Hey, I know you," the pirate said, squeezing past a clown and a butterfly.

Stella gave her little sister Gaby a noogie. "Of course you do, peanut."

While the rest of our peoples scarfed a platter of jalapeño poppers, Jacob nudged me towards the fringe of the crowd. "We can do this."

I stuck my hands in his back pockets. "I'm sorry I caught your nervousness about our relationship."

"Don't apologize. It's been latent in my system for so long, I thought it was gone for good. I must have sneezed and infected you with my past anxiety."

"I got scared," I admitted, massaging his lower cheeks. "I've never been in love like this before."

"You've never been in love?"

"I have. This is different. With you, I feel like I could do anything. But I don't have to. It's okay for me to simply be. How do you feel with me?"

Jacob made a goofy face and danced around with his arms flopping. "I'm the happiest man on Earth."

The DJ switched the music to an upbeat pop tune, but Jacob and I swayed to our own heartbeats.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked, his arms enveloping my waist.

I looked at the table surrounded by our integrated cohort sharing a basket of onion rings. "But you just engineered a way for our two parties to coexist."

"There's always next Halloween."

I kept kneading his cute butt. "It would be nice to have you all to myself, since we're not fighting anymore."

He nibbled on my earlobe. "We were fighting?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "About the music." I felt the nibbling turning into sucking.

"That was a fight?" He pushed back my fuzzy, gray hood over my French braided hair, so that his tongue could swirl inside my ear.

"I walked away from you in a huff."

"I thought you went to order a drink." He sneaked his fingers under my sweatpants.

My panties grew damp. "You're not going to gaslight me with your seduction, Jacob."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No. Are you?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to be." His fingers dipped lower, grazing the crotch of my underwear.

I tugged his hips against mine. "Can we get out of here?"

He removed his hand from my warm mound and walked me towards the back door of the bar. "I thought you'd never ask."

...

"I can't believe I missed our first fight." Jacob stepped inside my apartment and removed his boots. "Next time, send me an invite so I can add it to my schedule."

I locked the front door. "Keep this up, and there won't be a next time."

He unzipped my plush hoodie. "I want to come prepared, have arguments and counterarguments ready."

I snapped his orange suspenders. "My first point: unzip those pants."

"Counterpoint: you unzip them for me."

I complied. "Second point: let's take this into the bedroom."

"Counterpoint." Jacob walked behind me into the bathroom, leaving me standing in the foyer.

When he returned, he carried two beach towels, which he draped over the couch cushions. "Living room: we always make a mess."

We continued removing our garments, exchanging coy glances.

Jacob sat naked on the terrycloth. He stroked his shaft as I approached him, wearing only my cotton bikini panties.

He hooked his thumbs on my underwear and pulled me into a straddling position. "Take these off. I want to enter that honey pot."

I cocked my head at him. "Cute. Point three: condom, please."

To my surprise, he lifted a throw pillow and handed me a foil package.

"I stashed them in clandestine spots in every room of your apartment." Jacob kissed my neck. "That way, no matter where the mood strikes us, we'll be ready."

"You think of everything."

"Use me as your throne," he said, stripping my panties from my sticky outer lips. "I have a lever you can play with."

I rolled the latex down his dick. "Where is my crown?"

"How about a pearl necklace?"

"No, thank you." I was about to climb on, to take him inside my depths. Then I slid back.

"Honey?"

"Watch this."

I closed my eyes, harnessing my power. I let my arms hang by my sides. My knees trembled next to his hips, making the furniture shake. I felt my calves leave the cushion. My shins skimmed the fine hairs on his thighs.

"Oh my gosh." Jacob gulped.

I opened my eyes. My nude body hovered over Jacob's. My pink clit was peeking out of my curly bush, directly in front of my boyfriend's nose.

He lifted his chin, extended his tongue, and licked me tenderly, exploring my crevasses as he pried deeper into my dripping inner walls.

I sobbed with contentment, it felt so good. Still levitating in a seated position, with my firm thighs pressed against his beard, I ran my fingers through his wavy locks. My toes curled in the air.

"Mmpph, you're kicking my ribs," he mumbled, face planted in my steamy crotch.

I set my feet on the back of the couch and circled my clit on his bristly mustache. "Keep going. Don't stop. Almost there." My right leg wobbled, making my thigh slap his left cheek.

He slipped a finger in my gooey slit.

I growled as the orgasm swelled to a glorious climax. My concentration shattered, I dropped out of the air like a quivering, zaftig anvil. I landed in Jacob's arms, squirting all over his body.

He held me lovingly as I recovered. "Glad I brought the towels."

"Whew." I gazed up at him. "I want some more." Unsteady but insatiable, I mounted Jacob's throbbing lever, balancing my hands on his shoulders until I let my weary body sink on his chest. "Let's play."

He thrust languidly into my moist cave.

I rocked back and forth, exerting the least amount of energy to generate the friction electrifying our groins.

This was a slow burn, both of us grinding with deliberation, luxuriating in the warmth and connection between our bodies.

Neither of us spoke as we created a conflagration on the cushions, our heat radiating, our groans reverberating off the walls of my apartment.

My second orgasm rose to crescendo, which induced a series of spasms in Jacob, which in turn triggered a gush that drenched our lower halves.

Even as our movements ceased, we relished our corporal gratification until it transformed into a blissful afterglow.

Both of us drooped on the soaked towels.

"My final point," I panted. "Let's go to bed."

Jacob, his eyes rolled back in his sockets, offered a weak rebuttal. "What about..." He unfurled his full condom and gestured towards the mess we made.

"We'll clean it up later. Bathroom first."

Sweaty and spent, sleepy and serene, fingers woven together, we lumbered to the toilet, giggled as each of us tinkled in the bowl, and washed each other's hands.

Once we reached my room, I lifted the blanket, we crawled under the sheets, and the two of us didn't wake up until morning.