Miscommunication

"Really babe, it's not that big of a deal." Stacy continued to plead with her husband from the bedroom. He finished his lunch in their small apartment kitchen as she toweled off her long black hair after her shower. "I'm not participating in the party. I'm just there as a favor to Jane to serve drinks and finger sandwiches and such."

Don had finished his sandwich and walked into the bedroom to continue the argument with his wife. As he entered the room, even though irritated, he couldn't help but admire the sight of the back of his wife's toned legs rising up to disappear into a loose pair of grey cotton shorts as she was bent over wrapping a towel about her hair.

The shorts were exactly that, short, revealing the tender rounded curves of the bottom part of her, well . . . bottom. The loose fitting white t-shirt she had put on was hanging open as she was bent over at the waist, facing away from him, showing the underside of her breasts. He paused there for a second, momentarily distracted by the shape of his wife of four years, wishing he weren't aggravated right now. Wishing he didn't have to go back to work soon.

She straightened and noticed him in the room, turning to face him. "Really Don, It's like you don't trust me." She couldn't totally blame him for being a little upset. Her friend Jane had just informed her today that two of the girls she was going to hire to help serve at the costume party she was having that evening were not able to come.

Stacy had known Jane since college. She and Don had met at one of her parties almost 5 years ago and had been to a few since. Jane's parties, they both knew, could be a little much. Single men and women commonly paired up and disappeared into back rooms. Fairly often, married or not, women would succumb to the influence of alcohol and cheering onlookers to shed articles of clothing, flirt with random party-goers, dance on a table, etc.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Don stated. "I don't trust the guys at the party to know you're not on the menu."

"I can let them know that. And besides, that's also what this is for." She said this as she held out her hand, the back toward her husband, showing the diamond ring in place on her finger.

He had sat in the chair next to his dresser, crossing his arms in a gesture of stubbornness he demonstrated when he thought he was tight about something and someone else could not sensibly see the logic in his argument.

"That isn't something that stops a lot of them." Don said dismissingly. "Some of the worst behaved ones we've seen there are married."

The look on her face was one of slight exasperation. The one she got when he went on about something she thought unnecessary. His frustration was mounting and for many reasons. He had planned on taking her out to dinner that evening and didn't like unexpected changes. However, he couldn't really fault Stacy for that, or her friend, since it was going to be a surprise.

Another reason for his frustration was the outfit that her friend was having the servers wear was rather risqué. The so-called, "Tavern Witch's outfit (a clever play on tavern wench) that currently hung on a hanger on her closet door, looked like a cross between a dominatrix outfit and lacy black lingerie.

His more immediate frustration though, was the white shirt she had put on was a rather thin material. As she stood before him, her arms stretched up to her head to fidget with the towel. Her soft, full, c-cup breasts were pushed out against the material making the dark, half-dollar sized circles around each of her nipples easy to see.

The conflicting emotions of arguing with his wife and at the same time wanting to push her back onto the bed to enjoy some "dessert" was frustrating because he had to return to work soon and didn't have the time to follow through on either one to the outcome he would like.

Stacy noticed Don looking at her. They had never had any problems in the area of mutual attraction but lately it seemed like they had fallen off a little because of Don's increased hours at work. It just seemed like they weren't as passionate as they had been. She understood though. She knew the overtime at work and the stress of their current project were taking a toll on Don. He was often tired and since she had been out of work for the past few months they had both been a little stressed over the finances.

Getting paid was the initial reason she agreed to work Jane's party but now she was thinking maybe she agreed out of the need for a little excitement, the need to feel sexy and, maybe, to feel wanted. Stacy started to feel a little guilty.

"I wouldn't even be going to the party if it weren't for the money Don." This she said for herself as much for him.

They could use a little extra here and there he knew, but this was a little beyond what he had in mind.

"We should have plenty once my bonus comes in after this project. It's just taking longer than we thought."

He tried again to talk her out of it but somehow suspected now that she actually wanted to go for other reasons. He had reached a breaking point.

"Fine, do what you want. You don't care what I think. Dress like a whore and flaunt yourself, but don't try to tell me you're only doing it for the money." With that he got up and walked to the door. "I'll probably be late again but at least you won't be here alone and bored tonight."

He shut the door behind him.

Stacy stood there for a minute, mouth half open in an attempt to say something she couldn't quite fully form in her brain. There had been a lot said and not said. Her thoughts and emotions on the matter were like the clothes tumbling in the dryer one room away.

She looked over at the sexy black outfit hanging from the closet door and wondered if going would be a mistake but also wanted to go out of anger at what Don just said. She was taking out the wig Jane had given her to wear as part of the look when she heard the door open. Thinking Don had come back to apologize for what he said, she hurried to the living room and saw that it was just her friend Connie. Stacy's face must have given away her disappointment.

"Stacy, what's the matter?" Connie said, shutting the door.

"Oh, Don is upset about me going to Jane's party."Stacy hung her head as she sat on the sofa.

Connie put down the bag she was holding and went to comfort her friend who had seemed on the edge of tears. "You did tell him that Jane wouldn't have asked if she didn't really need help. Besides, you're also getting paid." Connie's arm around Stacy gave her a little shake trying to get some like back into her friend.

"I know," Stacy said, "but that doesn't seem to matter to him. He's upset about me going to the party alone. More upset that I don't mind going without him."

"He probably doesn't care for you being dressed so sexy without him being there either I imagine."

"Oh I don't know, I think I could be dressed like a nun and he still wouldn't want me to go." Stacy said as a tear ran down her cheek..

"It sounds like he has some dependency and trust issues if you ask me." Connie said, turning Stacy's face to look at her, wiping away the rail of a tear. "Or he's just being an ass."

Stacy allowed a quick smile but then dropped her head again. Her towel falling away from her hair letting the long wet strands flop forward and down. She looked even more depressed now Connie thought.

"I know he's being unfair but I also know he's been under a lot of stress at this job with the hours and money's been tight and . . ." Stacy was starting to sound frantic when Connie cut in.

"But you really want to go anyway, right?"

"Well, yes." Stacy sighed. "It seems such a long time since we've had a night out and even longer since we've been to a party, especially one of Jane's parties."

"Are you saying Don's gotten boring?" Connie inquired.

"No, not really, I . . ." Stacy seemed lost in thought, staring at the floor. "I don't really know. It has just been different lately now that I think about it, like we're out of synch . . . or something. I don't know."

"He can't expect for you to just sit here all day playing housewife."

Connie hated to see her friend like this. Stacy never was the most carefree exciting one but she had never been this indecisive. Marriage did this to her, Connie reasoned.

"You have to get out and do something besides grocery shopping!"

"That's just it," Stacy started as Connie noticed her face reddening and starting to produce a new batch of tears, "I am a housewife! I'm not supposed to want to go out and flirt and party while my husband works. That's what I see some of those other women doing at the parties. The same thing on some of those reality shows. They're all on their second or third marriages!"

With a cynical tone Connie commented, "That's why I'm not getting married any time soon."

"But I love Don! I want to be married. I know he's being unfair but part of me thinks he has a right to feel that way."

Stacy was a mess now. Shaking and fidgeting like her mind and body couldn't agree on any certain position or action to take. Connie quickly glanced around the room for tissues but when she didn't find any she handed Stacy the towel that had fallen from her head in the living room.

"He can feel any way he likes," Connie said with more than a little contempt, "that doesn't make it right. He's probably just upset you can go and he's stuck at work. I don't think he really thinks you'd cheat on him or anything."

"You see, that's where I think it's not fair," Stacy began, "that I get to go and have fun when he doesn't get to. He's the one that's been working this whole time. Doesn't he deserve a night out?"

"But you're not going to have fun." Connie answered back. "Even though you might enjoy it a little, you're there to work. It will be a long night of walking around handing out drinks and such, carrying trays, being on your feet the whole time. That's work."

"You're right." Stacy relented, wiping her eyes. "I just . . . I don't know. I just wish I knew for sure the right thing to do. I don't want to resent him for making me feel I can't go but I don't want him resenting me if I do go, despite making money."

Connie sighed, "You're a grown woman and deserve to be able to do what makes you happy. I know you don't want to let Jane down and I know you don't want Don to be upset either."

"Ugh," Stacy's lip curled as she looked at herself in the mirror, "I look terrible."

"Yes, you do." Connie picked.

"I'll figure something out." Stacy seemed to calm a little. "By the way, what's in the bag?"

"It's those dresses you let me borrow and my costume for the party." Connie said as she went back into the living room to retrieve the bag, speaking louder as she went. "It's not as sexy as the outfit you'll be wearing but I thought it was cute."

"If there are some you really like you can keep them. I don't know the next time I'll be wearing one - except the blue one, I need that one back. It's my favorite and Don bought it for me."

"No problem." Connie went to the bag and pulled out the dresses to give back to Stacy. "I think I'll keep these two," she said holding them up. "They got me some looks and drinks last week."

"I can imagine," Stacy said with a smile. "The only difference between us is your boobs, so I'm sure you had plenty of cleavage."

"That I did." Connie smiled and gave her friend a wink. "Well, what are you going to do about tonight?"

"I still don't know." Stacy let out a sigh as she lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling. "For now, I just need something to eat and then maybe I'll try on the outfit Jane gave me."

"Can't wait to see you in that."

"Yeah," Stacy said, still sounding depressed. "I just wish Don wanted to see me in it."

"I'm sure he does," Connie said suggestively, "which is probably another reason he was upset. He wanted you dressed like that for himself." Connie then added, "Jane will surely let you keep it for a while if you wanted to wear it here a few nights."

"Maybe," Stacy seemed to be in thought, "but it might just remind him about this whole thing and backfire."

"Stacy, any man that sees you in that outfit and doesn't want to peel it off you doesn't deserve to be called a man." Connie then lightly swatted her friend on her hip. "Hell, I'd probably want to jump you."

"That's part of the problem. Don knows how they get at these parties and doesn't want me pawed at all night."

"You'll be fine." Connie said while lifting Stacy outfit from the closet door. "Now let me see you in this and see if there's anything we have to adjust before the party."

With a look and a final sigh Stacy resigned herself to get up off the bed and try on the outfit. "Might as well."

Later that night Jane's party was in full swing. Don had parked down the street and was walking up the sidewalk toward the house. He had thought work might not last as late as usual tonight but didn't tell Stacy that to see if she really wanted to go to the party or not without him. They had finished up early tonight and he went by the house to see if she was there.

When he didn't see her car he came up with a plan. He went to the nearest costume shop to see what they had that would conceal his identity. The pickings were slim. Most of the good ones had been bought or rented already. This close to Halloween they were going fast.

He talked to the lady behind the counter and was in luck. Someone that had reserved a costume had cancelled and she was about to put it back out. Costume in hand, he planned on seeing exactly what Stacy was doing at this party. Dressed in a wolf costume that would have gone well with a Red Riding Hood or a Three Little Pigs, Don made his way into the party.

It was a typical Halloween party for adults, lots of drinking, music, dancing and plenty of women using the event as an excuse to dress and act provocatively. He remembered some of the fun times he and Stacy had at a few of these parties. Flirting with each other, and teasing each other by flirting and dancing with others.

Usually after a few hours they'd find a closet or room to hide in for as long as they needed to vent some of the sexual tension they built up over the course of the evening. He thought to himself it was starting to get a little warm in the wolf costume. He got a couple of looks and comments from a few of the women about huffing and puffing and blowing their clothes off, which he would've considered back in his single days.

He made his way around the large house spotting a few of the girls Jane had hired as wait-staff. Their outfits did attract plenty of attention. Black knee high boots, over black lace stockings and garters, black panties, black lace gloves, and a black corset top. The corset was lace and a sheer material which didn't do much to hide what was underneath if not for the lace being in strategic locations. Still, on two of the girls, you could see the dark circle outlines around their nipples.

The outfit was topped off by a sort-of black witch's hat along with a black masquerade style mask that looked as if maybe it stuck onto the face somehow since it seemed thin and there were no straps that he could see. Lastly, they all wore a wig of some kind. There were a few different ones, blond here, brunette there, but he was looking for the redhead.

One of the cocktail girls came up to him asking if he wanted a drink. When he declined, she commented that maybe she had something else he could "lap up" with a long wolf tongue. "Oh boy," he thought to himself. His mind was racing with what Stacy might be doing.

He was constantly telling himself that she was trustworthy while questioning why he was here to spy on her. At the same time, he just knew there was something to why she wanted to be here and maybe it was because he hadn't been paying her enough attention lately. Perhaps, she needed to be flirted with. Perhaps she wanted the excitement. Maybe she wanted to be held and touched without really going too far.

His mind was awash in his own thoughts of suspicion, doubt and guilt as he walked through the party and then he saw her. She had just entered into the large dining room that had been converted into the dance floor from a door on the other side, which he figured led to the kitchen since she had a full tray of what looked like some sort of snacks or sandwiches.

He kept an eye on her from afar for awhile, watching as she approached guests, offering them what was on the tray while many seemed more interested in other things she had to offer. It seemed each time she approached someone or they stopped her to sample what was on her tray, there was an obligatory touch on the waist or pat on the bottom. Some lingered more than others and she seemed not too bothered by it.

Don was starting to worry and fume at the same time. For the most part she seemed to be dismissing those that acted like they wanted to sample more than the snacks, telling them that she had work to do and didn't have time to play. That was good. He didn't hear her ever mention anything about being married though. That was disconcerting.

He started to think maybe she was just trying not to think about him tonight. Maybe she was still upset and trying to have fun despite him. Maybe she didn't want to feel bad about being here even if he said he didn't want her to be and the positive attention kept her from thinking of it.

As his mind continued to generate possibility after possibility, he suddenly found himself in a corner with her approaching. He only had seconds to think of what to do, what to say. He then invented a plan. Her tray was close to empty when she approached and asked if he wanted anything. She was using a cute cockney accent she liked to use when acting like a serving wench, or in this case of course, "witch."

"My, whot big teeth you 'ave there luv."

Oh, he loved that accent.

"D'ye see sump'n you'd like to sink those wolf teeth into?"

She was laying the accent on thick. Did she phrase that to mean more than he thought? Maybe that had something to do with what he did next. Maybe it was how that corset top made her boobs look like they were about to spill out the top of it. Maybe it was watching her all night flirting and getting touched and pawed on. He didn't know but he had to try something. He needed to see how far this would go.

"I see several things." He said in a gruff voice. He figured he'd disguise his voice a little even though it was muffled through the mask.

"Well," she kept up the accent and the heavy flirting, "d'ye fancy salty or sweet then?"

"You seem to be a little of both." He reached a fur-gloved hand around to the small of her back just the way she liked to be touched and in one of the just-right places.

"I might just be for a strong gent like you."

He moved closer to her, backing her towards the wall as she held the tray out to the side. He pressed his body in closer to her letting one furred leg press between her thighs and let his hand that wasn't on her back go to her side and then slide up just under her right breast. If she was going to stop this now would be the time.

"Why mister wolf, your fur feels so good on ma skin but whatever would I do with these treats?" She was still playing into the characters. He was thinking he had wanted her to break character and ask him to find someone else to harass, or perhaps stay in character and politely excuse herself, but so far nothing. He wanted to be upset but instead he found himself getting excited.

Maybe it was the confines of the costume but he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He wanted her. It was like something new, like they were strangers again. Part of him wanted her to know it was him but another part wanted to see how far she would let this go. It was like an extreme role-play.