"God, I love Halloween season," my husband, James said as we watched a group of college girls skipping down the street eager to get to whatever party they were heading to. One girl appeared to be Wonder Woman. Or perhaps more accurately what Wonder Woman would have looked like in a cheesy 80s porno. She wore a red bandana across her chest. My gaze lingered over her large chest straining against the thin material, a silent bet going on in my head as to just how long that would stay sprung. The crisp autumn air carried pumpkin spice and excitement as the bandana flapped in the breeze, barely clinging to its precarious position. Her friend was a bubbly blonde with smaller boobs, dressed as Catwoman. Her black spandex suit leaves little to the imagination. Under the streetlights, her suit gleamed, accentuating every curve as the sound of her high heels clicked rhythmically upon the pavement. Girlie laughter resounded through the night, mingling with the distant thumping of bass from the parties nearby.
I gave a soft chuckle as I sipped my margarita, the jagged texture of the salt on the rim coating my lip as I swiped it off with the flick of my tongue. This had become a yearly tradition of sorts for us since we got married nearly a decade ago. The week leading up to Halloween we would sit on the porch and people watch as neighbors made their way to various parties. James, for obvious reasons, seemed to enjoy it more than me, but I couldn't deny the wicked thrill I would get remembering my college days.
"There should be a law that men have to wear just as revealing of a costume as women," I said, placing my hand on his. He gave it a quick squeeze, his callouses pressing into my palm.
James turned to me, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement beneath his unruly mane of brown hair. The streetlight caught the hints of grey in his beard, giving him a distinguished lumberjack demeanor. At 38, he wore his age well, the creases around his eyes deepening as he smiled.
"I think you just want to see Daniel wearing something like that, Erica?" he teased, tilting his head toward a dark haired girl in a short toga. His fingers danced around the intricate Halloween-themed tattoos that adorned my right arm- it's my favorite holiday. His touch sent a shiver through me, despite the unusual warmth of the evening.
I tossed my hair over my shoulder, the red curls resting on my back as my green eyes narrowing playfully. At 34, I still felt the rebellious energy of my punk days coursing through me. "Oh, now there's an image I'd like to see," I mused, my gaze sweeping over him appreciatively.
Daniel was the husband of my good friend Cori. The two of them had been married almost as long as us. While all of us have dabbled in "the life style", we've never actually been intimate with each other. Don't shit where you eat and all that. But still, I could see why Cori married him. Daniel was a former special forces sergeant, which judging by his arms, I assume meant he spent every possible second in the gym. The image of Daniel in such a costume flashed through my mind. His 6'2" frame would tower over most, his broad shoulders and chiseled jawline demanding attention. The intricate tribal tattoo that snaked from his right shoulder down to his elbow would be on full display, its black ink a stark contrast to his sun-kissed skin. I imagined him in something like a Spartan warrior outfit, his muscular thighs and calves exposed, a short leather skirt barely covering what needed to be covered. The thought of his usually serious face, with that small scar above his left eyebrow, trying to maintain composure in such an outfit almost made me laugh out loud.
James laughed, the sound deep and rich. "I can see you, you know!," he laughed breaking me from my daydream as he leaned close to nuzzle my neck.
I giggled, pushing him away half-heartedly. "Behave yourself," I scolded, though there was no real heat in my words. "We're supposed to be watching the parade of scantily-clad co-eds, remember?"
"You know, they're having their annual party next weekend. It's supposed to be the best one yet. Maybe we should go?" James words sent a thrill through me straight to my core. I adjusted in my seats, the possibilities of what would happen at such a party running through my head.
"I thought we agreed to stay away from those parties after what happened last time?" I teased as I felt his hand slowly circling my bare knee. I felt goosebumps forming all over my body, unsure if it was due to his touch or the thought of the last party we were at.
"We did," James whispers his breath now hot on my neck. I reached up pulling him toward me, my hands snaking through his dark hair. His lips rested on my exposed neck, for just a moment as if he too were thinking about that night.
"Did you forget what happened at the last party of theirs that we attended?" I whispered, my voice husky with desire as I saw a final party goer rushing down the street through half-lidded eyes. James pulled back, his blue eyes dark with want.
"How could I forget?" he murmured. "Truth or Dare..."
I nodded, biting my bottom lip as the memories flooded back. "Three years ago now. God, I was so nervous." His hand had moved further up my leg now; gripping my inner thigh possessively.
James chuckled softly his eyes staring daggers into my soul. "We both were. But then Cori dared you..."
"To let that guy go down on me," I finished, heat rising to my cheeks as my hips pushed toward his hand. "God, I still don't even know his name."
His hand tightened on my thigh causing me to growl in pain and arousal. "I remember how you looked. How you trembled. It was so fucking hot."
"I felt so exposed," I whined, willing his fingers to push through the confines of shorts. "Everyone was looking at me."
"Daniel couldn't take his eyes off you," James added fueling my fantasy. "You were mesmerizing. I thought he was going to push that guy off you and take you himself."
I gripped his arm, my fingers digging into the flesh of his wrist. "You're making that part up!"
"I swear I'm not," he laughed, pulling me into a kiss as he pulled his arm away.
"Maybe we should take this inside," I suggested, my body thrumming with need.
As we stumbled through the front door, the playful mood shifted. James pressed me against the closed door, his body firm against mine.
"James," I said softly, placing a hand on his chest. "That night... it nearly cost us our marriage."
He took a deep breath, resting his forehead against mine. "I know. But we're stronger now, Erica. More... experienced."
I searched his eyes, seeing the same desire I felt. "Are you really ready to go down that road again?"
Instead of answering with words, James captured my lips in a passionate kiss. His hands cupped my face as he poured everything into that kiss - love, desire, and a promise of adventures to come.
When we finally broke apart, breathless, I knew we'd be RSVPing to that party. But for now, we had our own private celebration to attend to.
****
The week seemed to drag by painfully as I thought about the party at the end of the week. I was surprised that he wanted to go after what happened a few years ago, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that wasn't exciting. Those early days of our marriage really were some of the best in our life.
Absently stirring my coffee, the spoon against the ceramic mug clinked away, wafting odors of pumpkin spice into my nostrils. At first, when James and I got together, we were the envy of everyone. Our love was infectious, always making out in public and announcing how much we loved each other. This was only strengthened by the adventures we went on together. James and I used to be so carefree, so ready to embrace every adventure that came our way. We were that couple that everyone else resented. They couldn't believe that we could be as in love as we were even after the crazy nights with other couples.
But then came the party. The one that nearly tore us apart and changed everything.
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of that night settle on my shoulders. It had started normally enough. We were at one of Cori's infamous parties that often ended with people going home with someone who wasn't their spouse. James and I were no stranger to this and we were excited to see where the night would go. That's when Cori announced the game for the evening. Truth or Dare, innocent enough, or so I thought. While James and I were no strangers to swinging, one thing we'd never done was hook up with someone else in front of each other. At the time, I didn't think it was that big of a deal; but as I came down from that earth-shattering orgasm and looked at James I saw the hurt in his eyes.
The aftermath had been brutal. Weeks of awkward conversations, weeks of tiptoeing around each other's feelings. We'd both been forced into confronting parts of ourselves-and each other-that we really weren't ready to acknowledge. The easygoing couple we'd been seemingly disappeared overnight, replaced by two people struggling to reconnect.
It had taken time, and more than a few tearful nights, but we'd found our way back to each other. Our relationship had deepened, matured. We'd learned to communicate better, to truly listen to each other's needs and fears. But something had changed -- a carefree spark had dimmed, replaced by a more cautious approach to life and love.
In the years since we've talked a lot about that party. James claims he sees it in a whole new light now. That he's able to look back on that night and see just how sexy I looked. But the thought of seeing that hurt in his eyes... I don't know if I can go through that again.
I glanced at the clock, knowing James would be home soon. We'd need to talk about this, really talk. If we were going to step back into that world, we needed to be on the same page. No misunderstandings, no unspoken fears. I needed to know we were going to leave the party stronger than when we got to it.
When James finally got home I was keeping myself busy cleaning the house. I had just finished vacuuming the living room, Paramore blaring in my AirPods as James stepped through the door. His tie hung loose on his neck, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched me hopping around singing "Still Into You" over the hum of the vacuum.
"Hey," he said softly, crossing the room to plant a kiss on my forehead. "Looks like you're having fun."
