The Halloween party held each year at the old Garner Mansion is a blowout head banging celebration. Everyone in town wants to attend, but only a select group are invited. My best friend, Jamie, a wild child at heart, has somehow procured a couple of tickets for the bash. The tickets are darn near impossible to get unless you happen know the right people, which by the way Jamie does not. I don't know how she got the tickets, and I'm not asking; sometimes it's better not knowing. She came through and that's all that matters in my book. I can't believe it, I've been a walking zombie all week, I can't concentrate on anything else but the upcoming party.
It's not your ordinary Halloween party, it is elegant, private, and very chic, masks are required. The party is always at the Garner Mansion which is supposed to be haunted by the Garner's eldest son, Christopher, and you guessed it, he died on Halloween night. It's a good story to tell, and a few people swear they have seen the ghost; probably after one too many glasses of punch. I suppose it adds to the whole atmosphere of the party, if you believe in that sort of thing, which I don't. Ghost, or no ghost, I plan on dancing and celebrating like it's my last night on this earth. I figure why not, isn't the world supposed to end in the year 2012 anyway? I need to make the best of each and every party crossing my path.
I spent much of the past week preparing my costume. It consists of a deep emerald green ballroom gown with a full skirt held up by layers of petticoats, cinched in at the waist with bone stays which push my breasts up and out into breathtakingly creamy soft mounds; my areolas peek out if I so much as take a small breath. My thick auburn hair is swept up off my neck into a mass of curls, with a few wispy tendrils framing my face . Silver shoes to match the small silver bag for all the girlie stuff, and one silver mask lined with tiny glass beads complete my outfit. I am ready, let the party begin.
Jamie picks me up, arriving on time. I am impressed, this is a stellar moment, Jamie is never on time for anything in all the years I have known her. She must be as excited as I am about the party. I open the door to see an absolutely stunning vision, Jamie squeezed into a small french maid outfit, which does little to hide her curvaceous body. The bust line of the costume pushes her ample bosoms up, just short of spilling completely out of the top. A white apron covers a black uniform, white petticoats, white stockings with a garter belt, and a black mask with rhinestones complete her look. Jamie looks breathtakingly gorgeous.
"Wow, is the only word I can say about your costume, Jamie," I tell her, "you look killer."
"Watch this," she says and quickly turns around, bending at the waist to reveal one very cute ass, without a stitch of underwear on.
I laugh hysterically, "only you would do that."
"This is going to be a perfect night, I can feel it," she tells me, "let's get moving."
Twenty minutes later we pull up to the front of the mansion. It is dark and forbidding, lit outside only by a few burning torches. A handsome young parking attendant jumps to the side of the car, and opens the doors for us. Jamie presses her breasts gently against his arm, giving him a bird's eye view of her attributes. She casually tosses the keys in his general direction, purposely missing his hand so the keys drop to the ground.
"I'm so clumsy," she smiles, and she hurriedly bends over to pick up them up.
She gives the poor boy a close-up view at her smooth rounded ass and shaven mound. When she turns back to hand him the keys, she brushes the side of her hand lightly across his apparent erection, and whispers into his ear, "very nice!"
The poor kid blushes three shades of red and almost falls down when he turns back to the car. Laughing quietly, we walk up the stairs and head into the mansion. The first room we enter is jammed with people, who are decked out in every imaginable costume. Flickering candles provide the only light throughout the entire mansion. They are set up on tables and mantles in each of the different rooms and hallways. The furnishings are opulent and luxurious, in rich deep colors and soft fabrics. Every wall seems to hold an original oil painting framed in ornate gold, portraying each of the Garner family members. Jamie and I press through the crowd trying to reach the ballroom. We can feel the pounding bass emanating throughout our bodies as we get closer. Along the way, we are both groped, touched, and caressed by men, and women.
