This story is not completed. It is a flash story that does not have a real ending. The reason for this is it's based on something that actually happened this past Halloween. This story is not finished in real life, so I left the ending open to allow the real situation to play out. I may choose to revisit this in the future.
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The Halloween party was already in full swing when my wife and I arrived. It was hard to tear myself away from her toned body that was well displayed by her skintight, jet-black Catwoman costume (complete with whip!). I swear to God, even Michelle Phieffer wasn't as sexy as Catwoman. Even after two kids, who were with my parents for the weekend, Alicia was really hot. I must admit that I sometimes forget how attractive she really is.
I was dressed as a pirate. Original, sexy, imaginative? Of course not. However, it was easy.
Alicia gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and went to mingle with the other guests. I made my way to the drinks where several of my buddies were engaged in a very loud debate. It seemed heated and intense. Once I was within earshot, I understood why tensions were so high. It was one of those debates that challenges your intellect; make you think outside of the box.
Who would win? The Hulk or Superman?
I had to shake my head at the pointlessness of such a debate. You would think that a room full of grown, intelligent men would find topics to talk about that were not so asinine.
Everyone knows that the last son of Krypton is the obvious choice. Why was this even a discussion?
Anyway, I decided to participate in this monumental discussion by offering my expert opinion that I'd gathered scientifically through extensive research done as a kid. It involved looking googly eyed at Marvel's and DC's comic books for hours on end. Since my knowledge was clearly superior to anybody else's, I was sure that my input would end the discussion once and for all. Surprisingly, the others involved didn't see my arguments as absolute. I only succeeded in making the conversation louder.
But that's what happens when you mix grown (which is not necessarily the same thing as grownup) men with beer. You get a bunch of adolescents who burp, fart, and sometimes wrestle. You would think that a room full of scantily clothed nurses, Catwomen, and various animals (basically, tight leotards on their bodies and ears on their heads) would draw our attention to baser thoughts.
We all had to finally agree to disagree and table the discussion (even though I was right). There was too much beer and too much fun to be had. I planned to stay relatively sober since I knew that Alicia wasn't going to be driving us home. We'd just got here and I saw that she was already having a VERY good time.
She was sitting on the couch next to her best friend, Susie. Susie was also dressed as Catwoman, though she took on the Halle Berry version. And yes, she did her costume as much justice as Alicia.
Alicia and Susie have been inseparable since junior high. Growing up they lived on the same block. They are so similar that the only way they can coexist in the same place and time is either as best friends or as savage enemies. They talked alike, dressed alike, did most of the same things, and they even looked alike. Both sets of parents are "Mom and Dad" to them. The running joke when they were teenagers was that one of their moms had a set of twins and gave the spare baby to the other family. The only mystery was finding out who was the real mother.
They both hated that joke, by the way.
Susie was married to a guy named Dominic. They got married two years before Alicia and me. We'd been married for 6 years at this point.
You would think that because the two girls were similar in so many ways, that they would marry the same type of guy. Wrong. Susie's husband is my complete opposite. I am a clean cut person who doesn't do much physical labor at work; Dominic works with his hands all day.
I am the district manager of six local restaurants that my company owns. While I may not be a suit and tie kind of guy, I am usually - at worst - business casual.
In case your wondering, I am not "nerdy" or "geeky". I played baseball in high school, and also got into boxing when I was in college. My boxing activities were more of a hobby than a career though. But it kept me in shape.
I will admit that after I got married and settled into family life, my time at the gym dropped off a bit. Or a lot. But I wasn't overweight and out of shape.
Dominic, on the other hand, works for a local factory. I am not sure what his official title is, but I know that it involves lifting heavy "things" (whatever he lifts) numerous times a day for 8 - 10 hours. Not to mention he practically lives at the gym. As you can imagine, he is very fit. While my hair stays cut short and neat, his hair is long and kept in a ponytail. His beard completes his look of Aztec warrior/Brawny man. Dominic is like Drogo from "Game of Thrones", while I am more like Don Draper from Mad Men (Really, I am).
I never really warmed up to him. I didn't dislike him, per se, but we really didn't have a connection that would make us close friends. Or any type of friends. To me he was Susie's husband. Since Susie was my wife's best friend, I saw him occasionally. I never sought him out in any other context, nor had a desire to. I'm certain that he felt the same about me.
This night he was dressed as Tarzan, of course. Typical. Who does that? It was like 50 degrees outside, and he showed up to a party wearing a loincloth. I call that Douche Baggism. Defined: acts that can be construed as or pertaining to being a douche bag. Straight out of Webster's. Honest.
Anyway, Tarzan was hanging out with the women, like he always does at parties like this. He was very flirtatious and often bordered on being inappropriate. None of the women seemed to mind though. His thinly veiled sexual innuendos often had them giggling and blushing rather than slapping him.
Even Alicia. That really burned me up.
One would assume that Susie would find this behavior embarrassing. I know that Alicia would if it were me. However, Susie just laughed along with them. She sometimes gave him a playful slap on the shoulder and said, "Dominic, stop it!" but she never really admonished him, or even looked at him crossly. She almost looked proud that women lusted for her husband.
Tonight, Dominic was in full form. He'd consumed enough alcohol to lower his already marginal inhibitions, so his flirting was all out groping. Single women, married women, it didn't matter. Breasts were grabbed, asses were rubbed, and crotches were ground into. I saw several husbands getting angry when their wives were the subject of such attention, but nobody acted on it. Maybe they were afraid of him. Maybe they were drunk. Maybe they just didn't want to make scene. I don't know. Nevertheless, I kept an eye out when he was in the vicinity of Alicia. One act of Douche Baggism towards my wife and we were out of here.
Alicia must have sensed my trepidation, because she made her way over to me.
"Having fun, Greg?" she asked me over the music. I nodded my head and took a sip of beer. I watched her sway her body to the music as she stood next to me. I noticed that her eyes wandered over to Tarzan. Without realizing it, she gave a silent appraisal of his body. I sensed something I wished I had not. Lust.
I admit it. I got jealous.
"What kind of idiot dresses up like Tarzan when it's cold outside?"
Alicia snapped out of her trance and turned to me.
"You know Dominic, honey. He always has to be the center of attention."
I scoffed and took another sip of my beer. It had suddenly lost its taste. Alicia noticed my sour mood change.
"Honey, don't tell me you're jealous."
"Why would I be jealous of him? I don't feel the need to leave the house naked to attract women."
Alicia laughed dismissively. "Of course not honey." She said as her attention was once again directed at Douche.