The Difficult Seduction of the Halloween Dangler, Snake Cracker, Bull Dropper and Pacifist Contender.
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Christie was ready. Dressed in black with a tall conical hat and carrying a straw broom. She'd even had time to paint her face black. And her legs. And her arms. She'd been ready for a while, was extremely excited, and I was the slow poke. I didn't really want to go. Parties are not my best entertainment. I had the engine out of the Ford and wanted to get on with the repair. But we had to go, so I put a cloth over the engine to keep out the bloody dust and was soon in the shower scrubbing off the grease. Halloween. What the hell is that?
We don't have that here. Another commercial opportunity for the bloody retailers, that's all. Ernie Briggle was once going to be a real retailer, and a detailer too. So many dogs getting around with their tails, there'd be plenty of business in detailing. And when the fashion changes he'd have the retailing shop across the road to put them back on. No shortage of dog's tails. What are little boys made of? Slugs and snails and puppy dog's tails. Surely he could get them from where they do. I never quite knew if he was serious. It didn't matter really, I knew he was an idiot. When ever I think of a retailer, I think of him.
In the car Christie nursed the plate of food we were contributing. Lucky she'd put cling film over it, her paint was coming off. She looked very different painted black. It was obviously paint and not beautiful and natural The stubbies of beer were in the esky with ice around them, and a bottle of orange juice was on top for me. I've never liked yeast urine, never understood why it's so popular.
At the Bowsmiths there were always a lot of things I didn't like. When we arrived we were greeted at the door. Our host took the things we'd brought and we went through the house into their back yard. There were a lot of men standing around, holding their yeast urine and doing their best to be conversationally clever. There wasn't much to substantiate how clever they were, a lot of them looked like they'd be clueless about a lot of things. Some of them were black, dressed and painted for the occasion and looking very embarrassed.
No one knew what to do for Halloween. People milled around looking at others to see what to do. With everyone in black it looked like a bloody funeral. Embarrassing. We celebrate the cup and its legends like Archer, Gunsynd and Phar Lap. Didn't they know that? The cup is exciting, not like this. I'd rather be with the Ford.
The women weren't much better, their skirts high enough that it was difficult not to see their panties and indeed, it seemed the only reason one couldn't see panties was because a lot of them were wearing thongs or G strings. I guess they liked to floss. I would have thought they'd choose black underwear to be discrete. Obviously there was no intention to be discrete. Funny thing though, they all seemed to be dressed identically, like some one had bought a bolt of fabric and run up a lot of skirts. Christie was the odd one out, her skirt wasn't cut from the same bolt of cloth.
Their shirts were also black distinguished by their brevity and often quite transparent with out a bra. I guess they thought that being painted black it wouldn't be noticed. One woman had her unpainted tits poking through big holes in her shirt and when asked she explained that if she was going to ride her broom stick in the dark she'd need head lights The jewellery glittered on their fingers and toes, on their arms, in their cleavages and hanging from their ears. The make up was caked on and they had a predatory look about them.
I wanted to leave but Christie didn't. I noticed she'd hitched her skirt up to show her panties. They all wanted to be the focus of attention with loud laughter and silly antics.
A lot of them had straw brooms and tiring of carrying them around the ladies passed the handle of the broom through the crutch of their panties to be held up, with their hands available for drinking. Even Christie did it. Bloody hell. I didn't see any of them checking for splinters. When the weight of the broom was too much for the panties, there was a theatrical screech from the lady concerned and a cheer from the rest of them. It was mildly interesting to see whether the paint jobs covered every thing.
As the evening progressed more of them cut holes in their shirts so their head lights poked through. Some washed the paint off their tits, leaning over the pool and dried them with a towel. Then they cut holes in their shirts and poked their head lights through.
No one was in the swimming pool yet and mercifully, no one was using the exercise apparatus. My exercise was always in the work I did. I also did weights. Every morning I raised my eyebrows five times. I didn't need more. I certainly didn't want any one showing me up with their finesse on an exercise machine. But, my wishes weren't to prevail.
It wasn't long and Angie was showing everyone how clever she was, running on a machine with her head lights heaving and her skirt flipping up at every step to show how brief her thong was. Emma, took over and demonstrated her briefer thong and bouncier tits. I could see a good part of her labia. The other men obviously revelled in the exhibition and women egged her on. My experience is there's always a price to such exhibitions.
One of the women dispensed with underwear and had big holes in the back of her skirt. She explained as she held her breasts up that if she needed head lights surely she needed tail lights. Another woman gave her bum a slap to make the tail lights red. I wondered what she'd use for indicators.
One of the men said the girls were into wrestling. Then there was a splash and when I turned I saw some one had jumped into the pool, a woman who'd left a heap of clothes on the side of the pool and was risking only her thong to the chlorine. The water around her was turning grey as the paint came off.
The party was in full swing as others shed their clothes and jumped in. They were all topless and many were bottomless too. They splashed each other and squealed with the fun of the exhibition. I think it was a relief for them not having to think of what to do for bloody Halloween. Beside me I could feel Christie getting excited. Some one called her to join them and with out looking back she raced to the side of the pool and stripped off. The water was black, I wanted her to stop and called her.
"Christie! Come here." She chose to ignore me. I watched as she stood at the pool edge, naked for everyone to see. She held her tits up as though offering them to everyone. Then she did a little run and dived in. Unfortunately, she managed to kick a pile of clothes into the pool. I've no doubt it was an accident.
Emma disagreed. The moment Christie emerged from her dive she was attacked. I saw the arms go around Christie's neck and watched as her face turned blue. There were words too.
"Bloody bitch, you'll pay for that." I moved closer. I thought Christie was becoming purple. It was difficult to know with the paint. I was on the edge of the pool and asked that Christie be let go. I told Emma it was an accident. She tightened her grip and Christie was flailing around helplessly. Her colour was going to dark blue and I knew I had to do some thing. I jumped in and pulled Emma's arms from around Christie's neck. She started coughing and breathing again. I grabbed Christie, pulled her to the side of the pool and lifted her out of the water.
It was time to go. Unfortunately they didn't agree. Angie was standing on Christie's clothes and Emma was standing between us and the gate.
