Meeting Their Match on Halloween

I peeked around the corner and spied on Annie, my wife of just over a year, standing in front of the bathroom mirror and putting the finishing touches on her Halloween costume. She had chosen it specifically because she knew that it would drive me crazy, but kept it a secret until that morning. My unseen gaze scanned her up and down, the bulge growing in my pants and pressed against the corner of the door frame. I moved my hips slowly, enjoying the sensation, letting my mind wander to how that night would end.

She straightened her wig and put on the fake glasses, then caught me peeking. She turned to me and smiled, cocked a hip, "So, what do you think?"

I stepped into the bathroom and slowly approached. I wanted to take her in my arms, carry her to the bed, suggest we skip the party, but I did my best to contain my lust. "You look amazing..." I leaned closer and took her earlobe in my lips as she let out a sigh and melted into me. "The things I'm going to do to you..." I whispered into her ear. Her hand found my crotch and gently rubbed the bulge she found.

"Mmmm..." she cooed. I just hope you have some energy left after trying to explain your costume to everyone. She laughed and stepped away. I attempted to find a witty retort while she stepped around me and made her way to the door. Phone in hand, she announced "The Uber is on its way," then slipped her phone into an invisible pocket built into her pleated skirt.

Years earlier I had confessed this particular fantasy, and she clearly had stashed it away for future reference. Now tonight it was paying off. My beautiful bride Annie, wife of just over a year, was fully decked out it her best Velma Dinkley outfit. Her blonde bob was covered under a brown wig, a tight-fitting orange turtleneck sweater showed of her curves. The red pleated skirt settled well above her knees, leaving a tantalizing showing of skin before her knee-high orange socks started. She intentionally dressed outside my view, so I would have to wait to know whether the bra and panties matched the outfit.

We stood at the door, waiting for the car to pull up. "Are you gonna be ok tonight?" she asked.

"Of course not!" I quickly replied. "I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you. Promise me that if we get the chance we find a quiet bathroom or bedroom and you give me a minute or two under that skirt." My hand reached down to the hem of the skirt and slid up her thigh. She didn't stop it until I was just about to touch her panties. She then stepped back and smoothed down the skirt.

"I think we can do that... Invitation did say Adults Only." She adopted an insincere pout and continued quietly "but what if someone catches us? I wouldn't want to get in trouble..." I knew her well enough to understand right then that there was nothing that she wanted more that night than to get caught in the middle of some deviant act.

Just one of the things I loved about her; six days a week she was career driven and respectable and just the sweetest thing on the earth. She kept fit chasing 1st graders around her classroom, and usually spent a part of every evening at home doing more prep work. Friday nights usually featured a quiet dinner, bubble bath, and early to bed; recovery from the week that was. But Saturdays were the day she went wild.

Most Saturdays I would wake up to the sensation of her hand or mouth between my legs, or to the sound of her moaning, deciding that she didn't want to wait for me. If it wasn't that, I would get out of bed and find her sipping coffee in the kitchen, naked in front of the large window, not caring who might see. The phone on the table in front of her usually showing an erotic story or porn video that was holding her attention and inspiring the rest of the day's activities. The previous Saturday, she masturbated in front of the window facing the back yard so that I would have something to distract me from raking leaves. The Saturday before that I fingered her in a crowded movie theater. The Saturday before that we sat in a quiet, upscale bar, dressed to the nines, people-watching and describing to each other in explicit detail how we would use various other people we saw. At one point, she said something that made the evesdropping bartender drop a glass.

"Standard rules apply tonight?" she asked.

I had been anticipating this question. "Yeah, I think so. And if something comes up and you want to renegotiate, we can do that." Our standard rule was 1) she could do whatever she wanted with another woman, anywhere, anytime, 2) I could play with other women, just not behind her back, and preferably with her involvement, and 3) if another man was to be involved, we would take it on a case by case basis.

She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "I like you clean shaven like that. We match...." She winked and rubbed her hand against my hairless cheek and chin. I had shaved my usual whiskers as part of my costume for the evening. She had apparently also shaved as part of getting ready.

Soon the Uber pulled up and we were out the door. Even though we lived less than a mile away from our destination, neither of us wanted to drive, and even though it was nice weather for late October in Minnesota, neither of us wanted to walk either. The Uber driver took a long look at Annie as we got in the back seat. He was wearing a Superman t-shirt, to be festive apparently, and with minimal conversation drove us to the party. My hand stayed planted on Annie's thigh, trying to inch higher, and getting swatted away only once.

We arrived at the destination and wished our driver a good night. This was the home of Joey and Wiley; they were a couple with a realty business who had helped us find our house earlier that year. They were both in their late 30s, no kids. Joey looked like an older version of my Annie, same size and hair color. Much of our home searching involved the two of them discussing closet size and lamenting their inabilities to cook despite the nice kitchens we toured. Wiley was a good guy too. He didn't have that expected salesman oozing phony charm that one would expect. He was the quieter of the two, good sense of humor, very smart and good at his job. We'd hung out a few times since closing on the house. Wiley and I went to a few basketball games (he got great seats) and the ladies went out for brunch and shopping a few times. The four of us spent an afternoon in the previous August day-drinking on their deck. There was a lot of flirting and sexual tension that day, confirming Annie and my suspicion that they were swingers, although we didn't partake. Annie did confess later that, when they went inside to refill drinks, Joey squeezed her ass and said that she was available to her any time. Annie only told me that she responded affirmatively, whatever that meant.

We could already hear the party going inside when we got to the door. Without knocking, the door opened, and Joey greeted us, looking sexy in a 1920's pink And black satin flapper dress, complete with headband and elbow length gloves. I admired the silk stockings extending just below the hem, showing off the attached garters. Maybe the dress was a little shorter than vintage, but no one would complain.

"Annie! Adam! Welcome!" she announced as she welcomed us in, giving both of us a kiss on the cheek. "Oh my God, Velma, I love it! There's a Daphne already here that you'll have to meet." She turned to me, "Guess I know what your fetish is!" She winked and patted my chest. Then she took on a puzzled look. "Hmm... and you are..."

Annie burst out laughing and said "Here we go," as Wiley approached. He was wearing matching 1920's attire, a pinstripe suit and fedora. When done right, any guy can look good like that. He welcomed Annie with another cheek kiss then put his arm around Joey and pulled her close. Together they studied me, and Joey guessed "junior college English professor?"

Annie laughed again and remarked "Close. Now Adam gets to explain for the first of dozens of times tonight what his costume is."

I stood there wearing a navy blue corduroy blazer, dark red checkered shirt that was buttoned up to the top, brown slacks. My blonde hair was shaggy, hanging Longer down my neck than usual and over my ears, the top swept from right to left. I was wearing a pair of glasses with black plastic frames, no prescription for the lenses, and in the breast pocket of the jacket was another pair of glasses with silver wire frames. Lastly, and most significantly, there was a white bandage wrapped around the tip of my right index finger.

Two blank faces stared back at me.

Wishing I already had a drink in my belly, I answered "I am Joseph Turner White, a playwrite turned Hollywood screenwriter facing a moral dilemma, as portrayed in the 2000 movie State & Main by Philip Seymour Hoffman."

There was a beat before Wiley let out a loud laugh. "Ha, love it..."

Joey's response was more profane. "No! Fucking! Way!" Now it was my turn to look puzzled. She continued "You're the second person here dressed as Philip Seymour Hoffman!" She gave me a quick once over. "I think your's is better though, she's too short..." I assumed the "she" was referring to the other party guest.

I looked at Annie and shrugged, "Guess I wasn't the only one with this terrible idea." We all had a chuckle and Wiley lead us into the party, Joey taking me by the arm.

Like you'd expect from two successful young realtors, their house was amazing. It was on a larger, fenced-in tree-filled lot, with a brick front giving it a classic look. Inside, past the entry, there was a large, modern kitchen opening into a greatroom that was perfect for hosting parties. There were several groupings of chairs and couches, and a fireplace that was adding warmth and ambiance. Some of the windows were open to ensure fresh air, but the fireplace made sure that none of the scantily clad guests got a chill. Off to the side was a formal dining room repurposed this evening as a bar, with a few snacks set ou on the table.

"The bar is pretty well stocked," Wiley said, gesturing that way. "Its pretty informal, so help yourself and clean up any spills you make. If you want the professional touch, there's a guy here dressed as Blackula who is a pro bartender. I'm sure he'd mix what you like if you let him suck on your neck for a bit." Joey playfully slapped his shoulder. "Otherwise, do what you like. The brownies at the far end of the table have pot in them. Mingle, have fun."

"Really," Joey added, flashing her bedroom eyes first at Annie, then me, "have fun. Let loose. We'll be around..., oh, and no cameras." They then made their way back toward the door to greet additional guests.

I went to the bar and mixed Annie a vodka sour, making another for myself so that I wouldn't have to think too much. When I went to hand Annie her drink, she had made her way to the brownies on the table. She picked one off the plate, broke it in half and put half in her mouth. She extended her hand holding the other half to me. I reached out and took it from her, quickly eating it, and handed her the drink in return.

Nearby were two other guests who commented "be careful with those; they're pretty strong." The woman who made that comment was dressed in a sexy nurse costume, unbuttoned just enough to show off her cleavage. She was standing next to a sexy ghost. This was a costume I'd never seen before. It was a basic white sheet with holes for the eyes and a hole for the mouth (through which a straw allowed the ghost to drink). But the sheet only extended to the ghosts waist. Below that was just a pair of white panties and white sneakers. There were no arm holes, so when the ghost raised her arm to drink, half of the sheet lifted also, showing her bare midriff, and, if I was on the other side of her, I suspect, at least some portion of her breast.

I leered at the ghost and said "Love your costume."

From under the sheet she responded "Thanks professor. I'll be keeping warm by the fireplace later."

Annie took my empty hand and we moved back into the larger room. There looked to be around 40 people present, with a few more trickling in through the door. On the other side of the room was the deck hanging over their back yard. Some guests had moved outside to enjoy a smoke or the cool air.

We looked out over the crowd and took it all in. In the corner stood a possibly old man (or maybe younger guy with really good makeup and fake beard) dressed as Gandalf, with a long gray robe and hat. Around him were several others, including a lumberjack, dentist, and french maid,excitedly cheering on something or someone. Nearby two guys dressed as Bill and Ted from the 80's movie were making out while a zombie bride called them deviants. Most everyone looked to be in their 30s or 40s, except for one older couple wearing matching farmer costumes, which consisted of only denim overalls for both. Behind us, coming down a set of dark stairs, was another couple in full 80's business attire; he had slicked back hair and a navy business suit on, she had her blonde hair teased out and had big shoulder pads under her pink suit jacket. I wasn't sure if the white powder under her nose was part of the costume.

Standing near the fireplace, a couple in matching cheerleader costumes were showing under their skirts and giggling about how hard it was to keep him tucked in, mockingly apologizing in case anything flopped out. They were showing off for another couple, comfortable in one of the couches, drinks in hand. I could only see them from behind, but he was in a blue blazer with messy blonde hair, and she in a spot on Daphne Blake costume. Unless there was another Daphne hiding somewhere, she was likely the one Joey had mentioned when we arrived.

Annie had also spotted Daphne and started to lead me toward the fireplace. The cheerleader couple loudly greeted us and issued another advance apology in case anything flopped out from under his skirt. I wanted to tell him to just take off the panties and chill out, but maybe another drink was needed first.

When Annie locked eyes with the woman dressed as Daphne, she stood and greeted Annie like they were the oldest of friends. They remarked at the verisimilitude of each other's outfits, and their touch seemed to linger. That was another thing I loved about Annie -- that unique ability to connect with people, to cut through any awkwardness and forge an immediate connection. Every introvert needed someone like her to guide them through the real world.

Annie introduced herself (as Annie, not as Velma) and introduced me to Daphne. Daphne responded by introducing herself only as Daphne, either not wanting to share specific details or because her character shared her real name. She then introduced her partner to Annie and I. During this process, the cheerleader couple apparently got bored and wandered away.

I then realized that I had mistaken Daphne's parter as a man when I saw them from behind. Up close, I could see that this was a woman. She was shorter, a little stout, dressed like a man for her costume (blue blazer, white oxford, loose red and blue striped tie, wrinkled khakis), she kept a cool smile on her face. She and Daphne both appeared to be about 10 years older than Annie and I.

When she completed the introduction, Daphne said "And I will let my wonderful wife Georgie explain her costume to you, since I know that you wouldn't be able to guess otherwise." As she said this, she sat back on the couch and stretched out her long, purple nylon clad legs. Annie stared at her thighs as she lowered herself onto the brick hearth of the fireplace, keeping Daphne within reach and not minding whether her knees stayed together. I stood nearby, away from the fireplace where all three (and up Annie's skirt) were in my view.

At the same time, Georgie stood. She and Daphne made an odd couple. One tall and lean, the other short and stout; Georgie was barely 5 feet tall standing. It looked like both were wearing wigs, Daphne's long luxurious red hair contrasting with Georgie's stringy, windblown blonde hair. Daphne's face was made up expertly, with radiating red lips, while Georgie seemed to not be wearing any makeup at all.

"Ok, I've really gotta act this out for you to get it," She said. Then she started twitching and stammering and gesturing as if she had just done a line Of coke with that 80's power couple. "Huh? Huh? You getting it yet? Huh?"

At the same instant, Annie and I remembered what Joey had said at the door. That there was another person at the party dressed as Philip Seymour Hoffman, or at least one of his characters. We turned to each other and she said with feigned exasperation, "Go ahead, you earned it..."

Trying to stay cool, I took a sip from my glass and said "Clearly you're dressed as Philip Seymour Hoffman's character from Scent of a Woman." I punctuated it with another sip.

Daphne nearly fell off the couch. "No! Not possible!" she shouted and laughed.

Georgie clapped and pointed at me, screamed "Yes! Exactly!" Then to Daphne, "I told you! I only needed one!"

In the commotion, Daphne had spilled a bit of her drink on her dress, and Annie jumped right in with a napkin to help her clean it. Georgie had reached out and grabbed my arm, pulled me closer to her, then gave me a full look. "Wait, you're not..."

"Yes I am! Philip Seymour Hoffman's character from State & Main!"

In a quiet voice, with all seriousness she could muster, she said "this might be the most amazing moment of serendipity I've ever experienced." She then slowly embraced me, her head pressing against my chest. I put an arm around her and squeezed her tightly also. I looked over her toward Annie and Daphne. Annie had discarded the napkin and now knelt next to the couch, her arm half around Daphne, their heads nearly touching as they both dealt with the shock of what was happening.

Georgie leaned into me and quietly said, just for me to hear, "Daphne and I had a little bet tonight. She said that if even one person knew my costume, she'd do a specific thing for me that I've been wanting for a long time."

"Mmmm..." I quietly responded, "Annie and I had a similar bet. What's your thing?"

"You go first."

"Well," I gulped, "without giving up too much personal information to someone I just met, I'll just say that she has to spend the rest of the weekend as Velma, and I get to be the bad guy who gets the best of her."

"That'll be fun." Georgie took a half step back, keeping her hands on my chest. She looked me in the eyes and said "when we get back to our place, Daphne has to fuck my ass with a strap-on."

I smiled and probably blushed. "Also fun."

She then guided me to an oversized chair across from the couch. It was just big enough for the two of us to sit side by side, our hips against each other. Annie saw us sit and realized that this left the rest of the couch for her and Daphne to snuggle on. She quickly took her place and rested her head on Daphne's shoulder. I saw her biting her lip and knew that she was only thinking about what to do with her new friend. I didn't mind at all. This was all acceptable within our established rules.

The four of us stayed there for a while, shutting out the rest of the party and enjoying each other. The four of us talked together, talked about our jobs, how we knew the hosts. (Daphne and Georgie were also clients; they lived in a house just a few blocks away in the other direction from ours.) Daphne was a former teacher turned librarian, which only made Annie want her more. Georgie was in corporate law; she talked about how her days were spent dealing with bullshit that no sane person would ever care about if they weren't paid very well to. Just like my Annie, she talked about how she dedicated her Saturdays to being a different person. They told us about a recent trip to the Caribbean, how they spent days just lounging on a nude beach. Annie and I talked about our own recent camping trip, about bathing in the river and making love under the stars, about making each other scream so loud that any other camper within miles would have heard and thought a murderer was on the loose.