Here's another one-off story inspired by Halloween. As always, comments and feedback are appreciated. Enjoy.
*****
Samantha checked herself in the mirror. Her makeup was overdone; too much rouge, lipstick way too red, and eyes done thick with both mascara and blue eye shadow.
"Perfect," she thought to herself and felt an excited little charge course through her 22 year old body. Every Halloween through high school and college she had watched enviously as friends and roommates dressed in the sexiest (really sluttiest) way imaginable and went to parties, coming back with stories of drunken hookups with random guys. Samantha was far too reserved to let herself go like that, and when she was younger there was always her parents to consider.
Having graduated from college earlier in the year and found her first "real" job and first stand alone apartment, she had still hesitated when friends from work began to pressure her into coming to this Halloween party at a local bar.
"Oh," said her stunningly gorgeous and blonde friend, Nicole, "Just dress as sexy something or other, I'm going as a sexy nurse."
"Slutty nurse, more like it," Janet added and then giggled, "I'm squeezing into my old school uniform... I used to think it was very dour, but trust me when I say I have filled in enough to give Nicole a run for her money."
Samantha begged off, the butterflies in her stomach signaling both her desire to go and the shyness that had always kept her home. Nicole and Janet shrugged and let her know the address if she changed her mind.
Now she stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a make-shift hooker outfit, tube top that barely contained her breasts and left her stomach bare, an impossibly short leather micro mini, thigh high stockings and stiletto heels. Truth be told she felt as sexy and slutty as she ever had, but wasn't convinced she had the confidence to leave her small apartment.
"Okay," she took a deep breath, "I can do this. I want to do this. It's just a bit of fun on Halloween." She hesitated as she took her black woolen overcoat from the hook near the door and took another deep breath. Putting it on, she realized the coat, cinched at her petite waist, fell lower than her skirt and actually made her look even sexier. She unconsciously bit her lip as she turned right and left checking her profile in the full length mirror and then steeling herself, walked out the door.
Samantha's heels clicked along the wet pavement of the nearly deserted street as she made her way to a more populated area, increasing her chance of hailing a taxi. As she did, she noticed an increasing number of eyes turning her way, even with the overcoat, she realized, she was a bit of a spectacle.
Suddenly a taxi came up behind her, speeding by, and by the time she raised her hand to hail it, it was already past her. Miraculously, however, it slowed and stopped, and the click-click-clicking of her heels sped up as she did her best to move faster on the stiletto points under her feet.
Before she could reach the cab, however, a well dressed man reached out and, paying her no mind, opened the door and slid into the seat.
"Hey," she cried out, trembling with a desire to get out of public view as she reached the bright yellow car before he managed to close the door, "you stole my cab."
He gave her a curious look, glancing up and down her body, covered mostly by a coat that came to her mid thigh. Whatever she wore underneath, it didn't show at all. Just the black material of the coat, flaring out, met by her shapely legs in black stockings. Returning to her face he saw that she wore heavy makeup, blue eyes highlighted with blue eye shadow and thick mascara, red lipstick painted on a pert mouth. He guessed her to be about half of his 45 years, but maybe older. It wasn't raining at that precise moment, but the sky was threatening and a downpour would ruin her.
"Tell you what," he said, "I'll let you share it with me."
"But you stole it," she whined.
He chuckled, "No, I really didn't. And in any case, I'm in here and you're out there. There is little you could do to change that now."
Suddenly she felt very small, and not for the first time that night.
The cabbie grumbled about the delay and the nicely dressed gentleman looked up into her big round eyes with a confident if not smug smile, "Last chance, come with me, or stay out here in the cold and wet until another cab happens along. Could be a while, Halloween is always a busy night."
"Fine," she let out an exasperated sigh as she slid her body into the taxi and next to his. She noticed that he wasn't unattractive, for an older man, but then she always did prefer her men a little older.
"So, where are you headed?' His eyes wandered down to her where the hem of her coat laid across her stocking clad thighs.
"Um," words caught in her throat as she noticed him checking her out. Her body flushed at the thought and her voice became quiet, "A Halloween party."
He gave her a funny look. "Halloween party?" he asked, "Don't you need a costume for one of those?"
"I, um," she was suddenly very self conscious. Of course she had planned to wear her costume out, but it was supposed to be around an entire party full of people where she would blend in with the other scantily clad young women. "It's under my coat."
He gave her a wry smile, "Can I see it?"
She felt her entire body flush. "Um, no," she replied holding her hands high up on her coat holding it together in a defensive fashion. "I don't think so."
He glanced up and down her body again, as if appraising her. "Okay," he said turning toward the window, adding a dismissive, "I see."
"What?" She asked defensively. "What do you see?"
He let go a sigh turning back toward her, "I get it, pressures on young women such as yourself, make you self conscious about your body. I mean, you're very attractive, but I can see how you might have dressed in a provocative costume only to decide to never show it to anyone." He patted her knee lightly, condescendingly. "It's okay if you're not all together confident in your body."
"Excuse me?" she said suddenly enlivened and defensive. She sat up and leaned toward him letting go of her jacket and as it parted he could see that her top was necessarily cut low since he couldn't see it in the space the coat had opened.
"Look just because I don't want to show you my costume doesn't mean I have body issues. How full of yourself are you?"
Through her abrasive response he remained stoic. "So if it's not shame keeping you back, what is it?"
The comment left her dumb for a moment. "Fine," she said rolling her eyes and moving to unbutton her coat. "It's not a big deal; it's just Halloween."
She opened her coat and shrugged it off revealing the tube top and micro mini that ended remarkably high on her thighs in her seated positions. The stockings she wore were thigh highs, which he could see because the stocking tops and the garter that held them in place were clearly visible an inch below the hem of the skirt.
He glanced from her legs back to her face and held her eyes as he said flatly, "So you're a prostitute."
"Dressed as a prostitute," she corrected him and folded her arms in front of her chest falling into a pout.
The taxi stopped at a red light and a car full of college aged men pulled up next to them. She turned toward them. Looking out her window without her coat on, they could see her tube top, combined with her hair and make up, and one of them said too loudly, "Holy shit, that rich dude in the cab picked up a hooker, look!"
Next thing they knew, the young guys were hooting and hollering at them, shouting "How much?" and encouraging her to "do her job."
She tried to look straight ahead and ignore them, but couldn't help glancing back their way several times. She was embarrassed, and her cheeks burned redder than the rouge she wore, but if she were honest, she'd admit to herself a little thrill about that entire car of young men thinking of her as a sex worker. Somehow, it proved she got the costume right, but mare than that, despite her shyness it had always aroused her to know that men were thinking of her sexually.
As a cheerleader in high school, she caught the looks from both her classmates and the older men who came to the football games. After a friend had teased that every man in the stands imagined fucking her, she couldn't get the thought out of her mind. On game nights she would race home and bring herself to orgasm thinking of the looks she got and what the men behind them were thinking.
But that was a little different. All women know what it's like to have men stare at them with sexual intent. The guys in the next car thought of her as somehow worse, someone whose body they could buy and use without care or concern. It was so depraved, but she found herself biting her lower lip at the thought.
"You should put your coat back on," the older gentleman next to her in the cab advised, and motioning with a nod of his head added, "people could get the wrong idea."
Turning to him, she smiled smugly believing she had the upper hand, "Now who's ashamed? What's the matter? Don't want people to think you'd pay for sex?"
The corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk, "Oh, I've hired an escort or two, so no, it's not that."
The admission caught her off guard. "Really? Why? You're not..." She stammered, "I mean, you don't seem like the type that has to..."
"Oh, it's not that I have to do anything," he explained calmly. "Look, you're young, but maybe you'll understand. You ever just want to fuck?"
He waited for a reaction but she just stared at him blankly so he continued, "I mean look, even the most casual affair carries with it an exchange of names, the possibility of a second meeting, a follow up phone call, emotional neediness. That's all well and good, and important, but sometimes I just want to fuck, empty my stress into her, and not have to worry about being followed home. You understand?"
