Coranne's Costume

I wrote this little story quite a few years ago and have dusted it off for publication. All portrayed here are over the age of 18. This basic theme has been used by other authors, but I hope this gives a new look at an old idea.

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The invitation came to us in mid-October. It was printed on black paper and had yellow and gold printing and highlights. The wording was simple and direct:

Please join us for a Halloween costume party at our place by the lake. The theme this year is European historical figures. Please dress accordingly for an outdoor fest.

The invitation was signed by Susan and Frederick who were two long-term friends of mine. They had made a killing in the Austin tech business and owned an estate half the size of many counties. They stayed there in the summer by "the pond," a large lake behind their tasteful two-story, three-bedroom cabin. I was surprised they were having their annual costume party so far from town, but I certainly did not want to miss out on the fun. Their Halloween parties were known by all in our social circle not to be missed and invitations were dearly coveted. Usually the parties were small, discreet affairs at their place in town. I wondered if this would be a bit bigger affair since it would be outdoors. One could only hope for good weather, but usually fall evenings in south-central Texas are warm, even muggy at times.

That evening I showed the invitation to my girlfriend Coranne when she came home from another day at work. She was absolutely exhausted and I wondered for the nth time how she put up with it. As I massaged her neck and shoulders, she read the invitation and sighed.

"Now who in the hell knows anything about female European figures? I mean, there is Mary, Queen of Scots, and, of course, Queen Victoria, but who else? You guys get all the fun with this one."

"Well, there are a few more," I suggested. "What about Lady Guinevere or Cleopatra or Marie Curie? Or you could go in drag and be a male figure!"

"Cleopatra, you Bonehead, was Egyptian, and furthermore, how could you identify Lady Guinevere and Marie Curie by their costumes? And finally, I don't relish squishing the girls just to go to a party."

I admitted she had a good point, actually several good points and then our conversation turned to what my costume would be. Men clearly had it, hands down, easier than the women. I wanted someone who would be easily identified and was a positive influence on history. Coranne gave me a few ideas and after a glass of wine and a light salad for dinner, we turned in for the night.

I never believed I would one day live with a woman. I had always thought myself rather foot-loose and fancy-free. This was before I met Coranne. The fateful day nine months before was a cold, blustery day when the cold winds seemed to sweep down from the North Pole unhindered by anything but barbed-wire fences. I received a panic call from one of my clients. Apparently their server was acting up and they were under a serious deadline for a major project they were working on. I run a one-man computer support business and I was asked to come over immediately. Fortunately, I did not have an urgent project which I was already working on, so I went on over to check things out. A vision of beauty met me at the door and showed me where the problem seemed to be. She was worried she had done something to screw up their entire system. I worked at it for about forty-five minutes and finally determined what the problem was.

I reassured her she was in no way responsible but their computer needs were gradually outstripping the capacity of their system. I made some minor adjustments on the fly, recommended major upgrades and agreed to put my recommendations and a bid on paper for her and her bosses to review.

She was so relieved she seemed to relax and we chatted about her job and the stresses it posed. After another fifteen minutes or so we agreed to continue our conversation at the Green Lizard, a local burger and beer establishment. After that evening, we started to see each other casually. It was still winter, her clothes were bulky and warm, and it wasn't until on a warm day in late March when I truly got to see what a beauty she was.

For a "let's skip work" Thursday picnic, she showed up wearing a bandana halter top and tight, jeans shorts. I couldn't believe my eyes. Her skin was flawless and her breasts were delightfully enticing under the thin, red-patterned top. As she walked, they seemed to jiggle nicely, almost like her nipples were winking at me. Our drive to the park was difficult for me as I kept trying to watch her out of the corner of my eye. Once when she leaned over to change the radio, I nearly swerved off the road after watching her delicious cleavage. Later as we sat on the blanket under the oak tree at the far end of the state park and talked and laughed, I found myself glimpsing more and more at her beauty. She seemed to be aware of my attention and would shift and stretch out every few minutes, just to tease me with glimpses of her sleek torso and muscular legs.

After the cold chicken and beer were consumed, she took my hand and led me down to the river. The park was deserted and as we walked along the path, I became intensely aware of her closeness, her warmth. Suddenly, she turned to me and pulled my head down and kissed me full on the lips. She nuzzled up to me, slipped her leg between mine and her lips melted open. It did not take me long to warm to the occasion and as I pulled her even closer, she took my left hand and placed it gently on her right breast and purred softly, "I think the girls would like some attention."

"I'd be glad to provide it, but are you sure you want to right now, here?"

"Mmmm, yes I am."

I don't think I have ever more quickly undone a top than I did that day by the river. The bandana fell apart and I was able to slip the whole thing over her head between kisses.

Her breasts were firm, not particularly large, but true beauties to behold. They stood proud and announced, "I am woman." I teased them both to Coranne's obvious delight. She leaned back, the sunlight caressing her erect nipples, and pulled at my belt buckle. I was stunned. She clearly not only wanted me, but she wanted me right then and there, outside, by the river. My pants slid down before she pulled down my boxers. She folded them into a small pillow and pushed me sitting down on them. Imagine what a wonderful sight I saw, a sleek lady, topless, sun kissed, unzipping and pulling down her tight shorts. Without panties, no less. With no further ado, she straddled me, both of us sitting, with her on top. In no time at all, she reached down and guided my now very erect penis deep into her.

Absolute bliss. The next few minutes were bliss as she rode me up and down, back and forth, pubic bone on pubic bone, until she moaned and shrieked a little. A few seconds later she shuddered, moaned and nuzzled my neck. She seemed to realize I had not come yet and began to move anew. She moved up and down more, sliding nearly off of me and then dropping all the way down. At the tip she would tease me with the opening of her vagina sliding in and out an inch or so, then she would plunge all the way down. It didn't take long now until I finally couldn't hold it any longer. She and I both came together in a wonderful moment of mutual joy.

After I came, she stretched down on me and we lay there, snuggling and kissing some. It was certainly warm enough we didn't need clothes, but I was self-conscious about being nude there by the river for anyone to see. I mentioned this to her and she replied, "So what? If someone sees us it'll make their day and it doesn't change anything for us at all."

I certainly could see her point and tried to relax and enjoy the closeness, the skin-on-skin sensation and the warm sun on us. After a few minutes she asked if I was interested in another round. Normally it takes me awhile to recharge the batteries, so to speak, but my cock was making it be known it would not take that long. She obviously felt it and chuckled and answered her own question.

"I guess not too long, hmmm?"

"Why, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, how about you take charge this time."

One of my favorite positions is doggy style. There is something about being upright behind a woman, thrusting in and out, all the while rubbing her back and reaching around to rub the breasts. I suggested this to Coranne and she immediately agreed saying it was one of her favorite positions also. She pulled up off of me and put her shorts down on the ground to kneel on. She leaned forward and gave me a nice, quick couple of licks on my cock to improve the erection, then turned around presenting her ass towards me. I took my clothes and used them for my kneepad and gently slid myself right into her.

This was a visual feast. Her torso was stretched in front of me, the waist was slim and her hips flared out into a pleasing fullness. The skin was flawless and smooth. I started to pound in and out only to be met by her counterthrusting with every stroke. She moaned quietly and I became aware she had moved one hand down below her. I could feel her rubbing herself and occasionally reaching back and lightly stroking my balls.

Since I had already climaxed once, my endurance was quite good. I varied the depth and intensity of my strokes while she wriggled her ass from side to side, generating new and wonderful sensations with nearly every stroke. She eventually increased the intensity of her strokes and developed a faint, flushing rash over her upper back. She screamed out, "Oh, my God" repeatedly as she came. Feeling her, watching her and hearing her as she climaxed sent me into a powerful orgasm of my own and I came thrusting deeply within her.

A few minutes later I pulled out and we sat together leaning against each other while staring out at the river. "That was very nice," she murmured.

"Yes, indeed. And it's kinda funny, but I don't feel so exposed as I felt earlier. I wonder why."

Half an hour later we got up, dressed behind the bushes and went back to our picnic. It was a wonderful afternoon and for the first time in my life I realized I was with a woman who truly liked sex, was aggressive and didn't seem shy about making love outdoors. It was only a few weeks later that our relationship warmed to the point we agreed living together was the best for the both of us. We decided to get a new apartment and had been living there until the invitation came.

Months later we were super comfortable in our relationship. Making love was a delight and I was always surprised when she suddenly would turn on and demand satisfaction. She seemed to particularly like sex when there was an element of danger or discovery. One time we were at one of the only remaining drive-ins in the state when she nearly had us arrested for lewd conduct. She had no interest in the movie, pulled down my pants, pulled up her skirt and sat right down on me. I was no longer surprised at her not wearing underwear and within seconds, I was erect and inside her. She rode me up and down, moaning loudly. Since it was so warm, we had to have the windows open. The manager had apparently received a complaint from a mother in the next car and had us kicked out, fortunately after Coranne had finished having her way with me.

Another time she took me back to her university for homecoming and showed me her old dorm and later, in the library basement, attacked me in the rows of old, dusty books. I had wondered why she took me downstairs and kept looking around the library like she was searching for something. Eventually she said, "This should be ok" and she pinned me up against rows of old English texts. She reached up and started kissing me deeply and rubbing her torso up against me.

"What are you doing?"

"I always wanted to do it in a library, so here is my chance. No one is around here, no video cameras, just us."

She reached down and undid my belt and zipper and pulled my jeans and briefs down to the floor. She kneeled down and gave me a quick but enthusiastic blowjob before she hopped up, pulled up her sundress and slid down on my cock. I held her while she thrust up and down until she shrieked with an obvious climax. She kept at it for another minute or so until I came deep within her.

By then I knew she loved the danger of sex where she might be caught, and I complied with her every wish. It was interesting being with a woman who wanted sex as much, if not more, than I did.

A few days before the party we discussed our costumes again. I had decided to go as Einstein; surely no one would mistake my outfit. Coranne, however, continued to be frustrated with her choices. She thought of being a convent nun or even Joan of Arc, but she always complained no one would know who the hell she was. The night before the party, she announced her boss had told her she would have to stay late the next day. She appeared to be upset, but no more than the idea of not knowing what role she was going to play. She urged me to go ahead, took down the directions to the party and promised to not be too late. When I asked her what famous European figure she was going to be, she responded only with a thin smile, a small shrug and a far-away look in her eyes as she murmured, "I'm still not sure."

On the thirty-first, I left work a bit early. I needed to go to a professional make-up artist to get the right hair and moustache look before going home to get the baggy gray clothes Einstein was famous for. Around dusk I left for the forty-minute drive to Susan and Frederick's place. Their driveway was several hundred yards long beyond the cattle gate and the front yard was filled with cars; a smashing success! I hopped out and went around to the rear.

Candles and small lanterns lit the yard and it was as if centuries of famous Europeans had descended down on the lawn of this Texas estate. Henry the 8th was the first one I saw, then, of course there was Hitler, next to him Stalin. William Tell, holding a bow and apple, was asking assorted ladies if he could shoot the apple off of their heads. Most of the ladies obviously had the same problem as Coranne did. It was hard to determine who they were. I recognized "Bloody" Mary only because she embellished her costume with fake blood. I figured out Marie Antoinette who carried a tray of cake and had a bulging bosom peeking out from a corset. Several of the other women looked like pub wenches and, to my surprise, there was a Cleopatra holding hands with a Roman, no doubt Anthony.

Some of the faces I recognized, most not. Many had tried to disguise themselves. As a rule, the women tended to feature low cut tops and heaving bosoms, even a few nipple outlines were noticeable. These women obviously got a lot of attention. I missed Coranne, however, and spent most of my time near the bar and talking with Mussolini and Charlemagne about stock options and the recent closure of a local high-tech firm.

About an hour after I arrived, I was becoming concerned. Where was Coranne? She had planned on coming, just as what I did not know. I wondered if she was already there and seeing if I recognized her. I was sure she wasn't there; I would recognize her walk anywhere. I pulled out my cell phone (What would Einstein have said about that?) and called her. She answered and I heard road noise in the background. She assured me she was arriving soon and she was so excited about coming to the party. I hung up wondering. Excited? Last night she was not sure who she was going to be and now she was excited? Who knew what she was up to?

Back by the drinks, Winston Churchill was pontificating on the lousy play of the Cowboys when he stopped in mid-sentence, his mouth gaping open. For a second I wondered if he had had a stroke, before I noted a murmur go through the crowd. I turned and my vision through the crowd in the dark first picked up the legs of a white horse partly obscured by a tree. Then I blinked, looked again and there, riding sidesaddle and bareback, was Lady Godiva!

Her hair was long, blond and a few wisps of it were braided off of her forehead and tied back behind her head. Over that was a long, thin scarf, which draped down to her mid back. She had on sandals with leather strings half way up her calves. And nothing else!

Her breasts were firm and proud and announced "I am woman". Her head was regal, held high, and she looked everyone in the eye, daring them to stare at her beauty. The pubic hair was discreet, her buttocks without a hint of flab and her sleek legs were to die for. Coranne!

I was dumb struck. Here she was without a hint of embarrassment exposing everything she had to everyone there. She discreetly dismounted (as discreetly as a nude woman can, under the circumstances), slid over to the host and hostess, greeted them with a peck on the cheek and wandered over for a drink. You could have heard a pin drop. Not a man there could tear his eyes from her and not a woman there could compare herself favorably to Lady Godiva. Envy oozed from Mary, Queen of Scots, and even Cleopatra in her slinky, eastern harem dress looked downright dowdy. After a few minutes the people began to nervously talk again. Coranne made her rounds from group to group, mingling. With each group there was a sudden loss of conversation, usually resumed by a ribald comment or joke made by Coranne.

I watched her from across the yard, my eyes mesmerized. Churchill began his comments again in his fake British accent, this time talking about the decline and fall of the American culture. I was a bit angered by this and reminded him Lady Godiva was, after all, English aristocracy. I also told him the old legends said that those who looked upon her would go blind or were fined heavily by the courts. That shut him up quickly and he turned back to talking of stocks. I, however, couldn't keep my eyes off her. She was not known in this crowd; indeed, I believe only Susan and Frederick knew her by name. This seemed to make her all the more spontaneous and teasing. She would laugh at the women, flirt with the men and even lay a light hand on their arms. Not a woman there was happy for the competition.

After she made the rounds, she moved over to Churchill and me. She pretended not to know me, introduced herself as Lady Godiva and engaged us in small chatter. I looked over her shoulder and saw dozens of furtive peeks from the men and women alike. After showing off her superior knowledge of stocks to Churchill, she dismissed him with a flick of her hand and turned to me. She continued to pretend she didn't know me and carried on as before. It wasn't long before I realized she was using some code words often in her conversation, words which had a special meaning to us. She repeated "bandana" and "halter top" twice before I caught on, she was getting hot! Whenever she was the most passionate was when there was a chance of getting caught, such as by the river, at the drive-in and in the library. She wanted it now, no doubt about it. While it is one thing to be nude, it is another to screw in front of seventy or more people. After a few minutes I even saw her take a few deep sighs and her nipples hardened.

For the benefit of the others, I said louder than usual I had to use the restroom and asked they excuse me. I ducked around the corner and made my way into the house. Once in the upstairs bathroom, I peeked out of the window and saw she was still there and now chatting with Hitler. I went ahead and used the bathroom and a few minutes later, there was a rapping at the door and she burst through. In no time at all she jumped on me, pulled at my pants and Einstein was quickly impaled into Lady Godiva's dripping wet vagina. Three strokes and she cried out, shuddered and relaxed, only to start up again slower and more deliberately. This time we came together in short order. She unhitched herself from my penis, dabbed off the assorted juices and quickly went back downstairs without saying a thing to me. I followed several minutes later.