Author's note: The events of this story take place October 31st, 2008.
Stacy shifted uncomfortably on the passenger seat as Greg slammed on the brakes at another stoplight. She wanted to lean back so that the shoulder belt didn't dig into her neck so much, but the knife in her back really made things difficult. It was Halloween, and they were on their way to a friend's house for a costume party. Stacy had found an old cheerleading outfit at the thrift store and, with her long dark-blonde hair drawn back in a high ponytail, she looked perfectly the part. That wasn't gory enough for her though, so Greg had gone to a specialty store and bought a plastic retractable knife and some fake blood. Now, with the knife stuck in her back and a small line of blood trickling from the corner of her lip, she really did look like one of the bimbos out of Scream.
That was the fun part, because in truth Stacy had been the "bookworm" at her high school, the kind of girl the cheerleaders sneered at and never invited to their parties. Which was fine with Stacy... why would she want to go to some snotty girl's house just to have all the popular boys ignore her while the disc jockey played awful music and everyone either got drunk, or stoned, or both? No, she had stayed home, gotten good grades, and been accepted at the University of Northern Colorado, where she was in her final year. It was in a physics class that she met her boyfriend Greg. Greg was the antithesis of every dickhead she'd met in high school. He was smart, sensitive, with a dry sense of humor that kept every conversation interesting, and they had been together for almost three years.
Stacy looked over at him and had to stifle another giggle. Except for the mask and green silky gloves, which he had thrown in the back-seat so he could drive, he was dressed perfectly as "The Joker" from The Dark Knight. She thought it funny that her gentle, caring boyfriend would want to dress as a maniacal terrorist. But he was so excited about the costume she didn't have the heart to tell him that because of the movie and Heath Ledger's death, she would bet one third of the partygoers would be dressed exactly the same.
To tell the absolute truth, seeing Greg dressed so "dangerously" was starting to turn her on a little bit. They had never role-played in the bedroom, but now she could see how it might be fun. Greg hit a bump, and the shoulder belt slid directly across her left nipple. To her surprise it instantly hardened at the teasing contact, and she had to stifle a small moan. Greg looked over and immediately saw her erect nipples, pressed as they were against the cheerleading sweater.
"Playing dress-up is turning you on, isn't it?" he asked.
Stacy blushed furiously, but had to nod. Keeping his left hand on the steering wheel, Greg reached over and cupped her breast. As he squeezed the soft mound gently, Stacy let out a gasp of combined pleasure and shock.
"Greg, what are you doing? Someone's going to see you!"
"No they're not," he answered, opening his hand to gently roll the palm against her now aching nipple, "and even if they did... who cares?"
Stacy was about to protest again, but when he dropped his hand and started to push up her short green and silver pleated skirt, she forgot what she was going to say. Breathing heavily, all she could do was watch in amazement as he exposed her white panties to any passing car that cared to take a glance. His eyes never leaving the road, he began to slowly rub the length of her pussy. Every time he got to the top of her slit, he pushed the material of her panties in just a little, making direct contact with her throbbing clitoris. Up and down, up and down, he never picked up the pace, and as Stacy neared orgasm she pressed herself harder on his hand, willing him to go faster.
Just when she thought she was going to explode, Greg abruptly stopped the ministrations. Stacy cried out in desperation, but all her boyfriend did was calmly turn onto a side road and park. There were already several other cars there, and she could see that the house the party was taking place at was in full Halloween regalia. She turned to Greg, about to ask why the hell he had stopped when she was so close, but as she opened her mouth he just smiled.
"I just wanted to give you a little taste of what's to come later. I want you to walk into that party wet as hell, and I want to be the only thing on your mind while you talk with your friends."
With that he opened the front door and stepped out. As he retrieved his mask and gloves from the back of the car Stacy unbuckled the seat belt, shaking her head in amazement. Greg had never teased her so unmercifully before, and he certainly had never touched her in the car! And the way he spoke to her just now... so forceful, so demanding. It was like wearing that costume turned him into a different person.
She climbed out of the car, remembering at the last moment to pull her skirt down. Her legs were shaking and yes, her panties were sopping wet. As the wind picked up, she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. True to Colorado Halloween tradition, the weather channel had forecasted snow later in the evening. Greg had already donned his mask and was walking towards the house. Shaking her head again at his strange behavior, she hurried after him.
Opening the front door, they were immediately greeted by "Monster Mash" blaring on the speakers, and sixty or so partygoers all in costume. As their hosts ushered them in, Stacy realized with a sinking sensation that her prediction was right. There were three other "Jokers" just in the living room, dressed almost identically to Greg. She turned to him in sympathy, but found herself looking into thin air. He had already left her side and was chatting with a few of his friends. Feeling a bit hurt at his brusque attitude towards her and his abandonment, Stacy wandered through the living room, absently noting costumes as she went. Apart from the usual witches, "Jason Vorhees'" and "Freddy Krueger's," she saw a Wolfman, a slutty fairy, and a guy in drag.
There were plenty of others, but she lost interest in them when she noticed her best friend Cara in a group of girls. Hurrying over to her, she had to admire her costume. Some might say dressing up as Snow White was a boring choice, but Cara's shoulder-length jet black hair and fair complexion complemented the costume perfectly. When Cara shot her a wicked look and blew a kiss through ruby red lips, Stacy laughed. Hurrying over, she hugged Cara and the other girl returned the embrace, then held her back to look at her costume. At first she seemed confused about the line of blood trickling from the corner of Stay's mouth, but then she noticed the knife in her back. Cara's hand clapped over her mouth and giggling helplessly she sputtered "Oh Stacy, that is so evil! I love it!"
For a while the two friends chatted and Stacy forgot about Greg's behavior. Only her damp panties and the slight tingling she still felt in her pussy reminded her of her boyfriend's attentions in the car and his almost threatening promise of what he was going to do to her later. Lost in thought, she had to drag her attention back to Cara when she asked "So where is Greg anyway? I haven't seen him yet."
Stacy shrugged. "Well, he's dressed as "The Joker"." She looked around the room and pointed. "That's him over there... I think."
Cara rolled her eyes. "Didn't he know that half the guys were going to dress like that this year? I'm surprised he didn't come up with something more creative."
