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When done, I let my body air dry and then put back on my white cotton chemise, feeling a lot cooler now. The flannel lands in the trash can by the toilet with a thud.
I almost don’t want to put the suit back on, but I can’t go out there in this.
The bathroom door closes behind me as I smooth down my dress one final time. It only comes to just past my rear. I was thinking of going in nothing but my underwear but convinced myself that would be a bad idea. Especially if the suit got ripped.
I drunkenly head forward despite the fact I’m not paying attention and collide with a bare chest.
“Dude,” I mutter stupidly staring at somebody’s throat in the dark. But then I make out the collar and realize the chest under my hands is solid and so perfectly toned and smooth. “Hello, Father.” I giggle drunkenly and he smiles in the dark, his teeth flashing as his hands touch my waist, holding me in place. “Do you want to confess?”
A whisper of his whiskey, sweet-scented breath fans across my face. That’s how close we are.
I am so drunk.
“Do you?” he asks, his tone holding amusement.
“Nope, I’ve been so good this year, Santa.” I shake my head. “Wait… wrong costume… wrong fetish.”
He chuckles and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “You’re drunk.”
“I am,” I admit, flashing my eyes at him. “So are you.”
“I am,” he replies on a breath.
“You should get back to work,” I murmur, glancing between his eyes and his lips.
“We’re at a party.”
“Right.” Duh. I’m so stupid. “Can you help me get back into my costume?”
“Sure.” He steps away from me and crouches on the floor, holding the feet part open for me so I can step into them. He pulls the costume up my body, his hands slide up the outside of my legs, slightly lifting my dress as he goes.
My body is on fire again for an entirely different reason this time.
I push my arms through, breathing heavy and still wobbling.
“Happy Halloween, Mr. C,” I whisper and press my lips against the corner of his mouth.
Because that was a good idea that I won’t regret when I’m sober.
I don’t wait to see his reaction; I pull the thing over my head and zip it up tight before exiting the room completely deflated. The costume… not me.
It inflates as I go, the battery pack on the inside humming gently.
What an awesome night.
“Where were you?” Pax asks, his tone accusatory and harsh.
“Bathroom,” I reply, shaking my inflatable butt some more. “Shall we go home and have sex?”
His eyes soften and his lips quirk with a smile.
“What about Laurie?”
I look at my little moocow all grinding up against her new lover.
“She’s good, she’s going home with him tonight.”
“Well then,” he says with a smile. “Let’s get you home and thoroughly fucked.”
Thoroughly fucked indeed.
The following Monday at work I have officially reached legendary status. Apparently, I won best costume but I left before I could receive my prize so that was waiting for me on my desk this morning. It’s a bottle of whiskey and a plaque that I proudly display on my desk for all to see.
Truth be told, I’ve been dreading coming in today. I texted Mr. C yesterday asking him to call me and he never did so I’m guessing that’s because he’s mad that I kissed him.
Although it wasn’t really a kiss and I was really drunk.
I knock on his door and enter, remembering how dark it was in here just two nights ago.
“Hey,” I say softly, smiling at my boss who is working at his laptop.
“Hey, Godzilla, how’s your head?”
“Better than I deserve,” I respond with a shy smile. He grins but doesn’t look up from his laptop. “Can I… talk to you?”
His brows are raised and his eyes curious when he finally gives me his attention. He also seems nervous, and I vaguely wonder why but decide to focus on my own misgivings right now. “What is it?”
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my behavior in your office at the party,” I mumble, and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair before standing and rounding his table to lean against the side closest to me.
“Your behavior?” He looks confused now, definitely wary.
“Yeah, I kind of maybe kissed you when I was getting dressed?”
His lips part. “That’s all that happened?”
I panic. “Why? Did I do something else?”
“No.” He raises his hands, laughing. “You didn’t do anything. And don’t worry about the kiss. It wasn’t even a kiss.”
“It kinda was though. My lips were on your lips,” I argue, still feeling panicked. “It wasn’t appropriate at all.”
“You kissed me like I used to kiss my grandma. Trust me. Out of the two of us, your intentions were innocent.” He mumbles the last part and I don’t think I was supposed to hear it. When he checks his watch, I say my goodbyes. I don’t know what’s going through his mind, but I’m terrified of it.
