It was Halloween and I was excited. I love Halloween; more specifically, I love dressing up for Halloween. I typically spend all year planning my costume, leading up to the big night when I would go out with my husband and our friends for a night on the town.
This year I had dressed up as a British policewoman, with a short black pencil skirt, knee length black boots, and a snug white dress shirt with a black and white checked cravat. A bowler hat with black and white checked band on my short cropped chestnut hair and a truncheon at my hip completed the costume. My legs were going to be chilly, but what else was Halloween for, if not showing a little skin?
I arranged my cravat and shirt, leaving the top few buttons undone to best display my slightly better than average cleavage and joined my husband and friends in the kitchen for a shot before heading out.
The guys, as usual, had put off costume decisions until the last minute. Eric was decked out in the same priest costume he had worn several years in the past, my husband, Derek, wore a token pirate hat and eye patch, and Rob hadn't bothered at all, wearing jeans and a t shirt.
After another round of shots, Derek flashed me one of his grins.
"Ready to go?"
While my husband wasn't what you might normally call stunning, his shaggy dark hair and deep mahogany eyes gave him a quiet intensity that melted your heart, made your knees weak, and did less poetic things to the region in between.
"Ready when you are."
The four of us locked up and headed downtown. It was only 10:30, but the streets were already full with a broad variety of sexy nurses, sexy police officers, sexy Disney princesses, and lingerie with animal ears. The men invariably sported a hat and accessories in a last ditch effort.
We stopped at a couple different bars as we made our way down the street, shouting to people we knew, loudly complimenting awesome costumes, and yelling "whore" at scantily clad women; basically being drunk and belligerent and having a blast.
A few drinks in, I was well into tipsy, which meant that my horny, bi-curious side was surfacing. Eyeing the women around me with increasing appreciation, I slung my arm around Derek as we sauntered across the street.
"What about that one?" I murmured, probably much louder than I thought. I nodded towards a tall brunette passing us in a nurse's uniform, her large breasts nearly popping free of the zippered top.
was a game we often played, drunk or sober. It began with a hypothetical choice: if each of us had to choose one person to share our bed, who would it be? Neither of us had been too crazy about a man in bed, and the game had ended up with each of us evaluating women when we went out somewhere. When one found a particularly attractive lady, we would ask the other's opinion.
Derek gave her a long look, turning his head as she passed.
"Not bad," he said. I sometimes thought he understated for my benefit.
"Not bad? She's hot!" I protested.
"You are drunk," Derek countered.
"I'm not! I'm only tipsy."
"I know you; you're drunk."
By this time we had reached our favorite bar, a dim, cramped space packed with people.
As we crowded in, I put my mouth up to Derek's ear.
"You really don't think she's hot? Tell me you wouldn't want to unzip that top and suck on those tits."
He turned towards me, eyebrows raised. I normally saved the bedroom talk for the bedroom.
Okay, maybe I was a little drunk.
"You sure that's not something you want to do?"
I glanced towards the ceiling in faux innocence.
"Mayyybeee..."
Inside, our friends had already gotten drinks, and Rob was attempting to chat up a ballerina. He was not doing well. Derek brought me a whiskey sour as the uninterested ballerina minced away. Rob turned back to us with a grin, taking a long swallow from his beer. He was rarely very disappointed by his lack of success.
"You win some, you lose some," he said with a shrug. Or rather, shouted over the music.
We elbowed our way through the throng to a table against the wall.
"I bet you could've gotten her number," Derek spoke in my ear.
"Reeeally?" I replied, amused.
"Definitely."
"Too bad we'll never know."
We sat down, and the guys launched into a half yelled conversation consisting mostly of comments on the costumes around and ranting about work problems. I simply sat, looking around and nodding to the music as I finished my drink.
"Want another, Sweetie?" Derek asked.
"Sure!"
When he returned with another whiskey, he leaned in.
"Why don't we find out if you could pick up a girl?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"Well..." He smiled slyly. "We'll choose someone, and you try to get her number. Romantically. You can't just make friends with her."
"Oh, well that's easy." The whiskey was making me over confident.
He folded his arms. "Easy, huh? Well then not just her number; you have to get her to kiss you too."
It was my turn to be surprised. I wasn't about to let him see it though.
I sipped my drink. Well, okay, this late and this drunk, my sips were more like full fledged gulps.
"What if she wants to go home with me? "
"Well," he said slowly. "We'll just have to see how it plays out."
"All right then, it's a deal."
Derek turned back to join conversation with Rob and Eric, and I scanned what I could see of the room.
There were several promising candidates, but none seemed quite right. A pale, long legged cheerleader had a less satisfying chest, a petite Asian power ranger had too many piercings for my taste, and a busty blonde batgirl had a somewhat average face, putting it politely.
"Find anyone yet?" Derek asked after a while.
I shook my head.
"What about her?" He gestured towards a nearby bumble bee in striped leg warmers and a yellow tutu short enough to display the curve of her firm bottom.
"Nah, she's too skinny," I said.
He tsked at me.
"Well it's 12:30. You better hurry up."
"If I'm going to do this, she has to be perfect."
Derek snorted.
"Good luck with that."
Fifteen minutes and another whiskey later, I saw her.
She was lounging against the bar, tall and lean with straight blonde hair falling past her shoulders. White lace topped stockings stretched over shapely legs and a deep red corset accentuated a slim waist and perfectly rounded breasts. Rather than pants or any other sort of typical bottoms, she wore plain white bikini cut panties. Over top she sported a tailored white dress coat with long tails, and short white gloves covered her hands. An old fashioned alarm clock hanging at her hip and a pair of fuzzy white bunny ears completed the White Rabbit costume.
"I'm going to get another drink," I told my husband.
"I can get it for you," he offered, starting to stand.
I pressed down on his shoulder.
"No, no, I'll get it." I winked at him and gave a little nod towards Miss Rabbit.
As I stood, though, she moved away from the bar.
Well, crap. Now what was I going to do?
I watched until she stopped in the line for the ladies room.
After only a moment's hesitation, I followed her.
Stepping behind her in line, I waited for a few heartbeats, then placed a gentle hand on her arm.
"I love your costume!" I gushed. Which was true; it was awesome.
She turned with a smile.
"Thanks! You look great too!"
I eyed the drink in her hand.
"Always take your drink to the bathroom?" I teased.
She looked down at it.
"Oh, well, I didn't have anyone to hold it for me."
"What? You mean you're out on Halloween alone?"
She shrugged.
"Well, I was with a friend, but he left."
