'I love Halloween.' Catherine Davis thought to herself. 'It is the only holiday that's just for me.' Christmas and Thanksgiving were family holidays. Forth of July was always company picnics. Easter was church and family, but Halloween was hers. Especially now, that the kids were grown and off to college or on their own, All Hallows Eve had become her special holiday.
She spent the entire month decorating the house and yard and most importantly designing and making her costume. Catherine and her husband hosted a yearly party that was always the talk of the neighborhood.
Last year over two hundred people had attended. It was a good thing they had a large walled in back yard and the weather was usually warm. Her husband indulged her every year for which Catherine was grateful.
Halloween allowed her to step out of her role as wife/mother/ P.T.A. chairwomen and for one night a year be something else, something mysterious and erotic and sensual. At forty two that happened all too seldom.
Catherine looked down at her body as she stepped from the shower. She had been graced with a slender frame that she kept toned and tanned at the gym, long legs and her personnel nemesis a huge set of breasts. She often joked that if they were silicone instead of natural, she would be a trophy wife.
She patted herself dry, walked into her closet, and took down her costume for tonite. This year she was going to vamp it up for real. Her costume would put Vampirella to shame, it was more gauze than cloth, exposing her body in peek-a-boo slits, and flashes where the see through panels moved across her body as she herself moved, bent, and turned. It was her most daring costume to date, even more than the torn and slit kitty cat outfit modeled on Halle Berry's Catwomen costume she wore several years ago.
That one had got her talked about. Every guy was checking out her butt all evening long. Every guy except her husband who ignored her, as usual. His only comment was a compulsory "That's nice."
Nice? She wasn't going for nice. Sexy maybe, provocative defiantly! Naughty even, but nice? She loved her husband, she really did, it's just that after so many years of marriage the fire had defiantly damped down to a few smoldering embers.
He was coming to the party as the Joker. No work put into his costume at all, just some grease paint and an old suit. She looked into her full length mirror, as she stepped into the six inch stiletto, fuck me pumps.
The mirror showed a tall slender woman, dressed as though she was made of smoke. Every move gave glimpses of tanned flesh that hid even as you watched. Catherine loved the look. She finished off the outfit with a long black wig and the three hundred dollar custom made fangs which a dentist had fitted on her own canines. Once on and with a little dental glue they were guaranteed not to come off even while she ate. The dentist had explained that he would have to remove them and polish her teeth afterwards but until he did they were as strong as real teeth.
Catherine had to be very careful, these fangs were sharp, and she had nicked the inside of her lip last night while eating dinner. She smiled watching as they emerged from her mouth. Perfect.
The guests would be arriving any moment, so she went around making sure everything was in place, everything was perfect. She started the spooky sound effects for the front yard and poured the rum punch over the dry ice blocks she had bought. Soon the cauldron of potent rum drinks was wreathed in a cold smoky fog, tendrils of which snaked along the floor.
The front doorbell, altered for tonite into a witches cackling laugh, summoned her to the first of her guests and from then on Catherine was forever moving, greeting people, and checking the food and drink. At least her husband helped out by playing bartender.
The costumes were many and varied, mostly traditional but a few, a very few had some imagination. She especially like the Indiana Jones outfit one of the better looking neighborhood men had chosen; authentic right down to the ten foot bullwhip which he had demonstrated in the back yard popping out candles with a flare and wrapping his wife as she fled across the yard to every ones delight.
Catherine caught a glimpse of a tall darkly handsome man in an expensive though old fashioned tuxedo. She hadn't recognized him, not surprising considering the amount of people at the party; but when she moved towards him, he had slipped into the crowd and vanished.
All evening as she moved through the party stopping here and there to talk with this or that old friend, she would catch a glimpse, just a hint of the man and then he would move or someone would step in between them and when they passed he was no where to be seen.
If the copious amounts of food and drink consumed were any indication, the party was a huge success. Catherine was bringing out the last big tray of meats, cheeses, and crackers when her six inch heel slipped on the kitchen floor. Strong arms reached out and caught her while simultaneously rescuing the tray from spilling all over the floor.
"May I be of assistance?" His low bass voice sent a shiver down her back as he spoke almost directly in her ear. He steadied her on her feet, nodded just the once a slow dip of his head before whisking the tray away from her and slipping out of the kitchen.
Catherine stood staring at the closing kitchen door.
"My God, Catherine are you alright?" Grace, one of her friends from down the block asked as she took hold of Catherine's arm. 'I was sure you were going to fall. Who was that?"
"I have no idea." She replied.
As quickly as she could Catherine moved back out to the dining area where the tray was centered on the table but her rescuer was no where to be seen. Catherine moved throughout the party, looking to no avail. He had vanished once again.
An hour later Catherine decided to indulge in her one forbidden vice. She slipped into the den for a moment of peace and quiet and took a pack of cigarettes from behind the books on the shelf. This was her one hidden vice, the one even her husband didn't know about. She would slip off and have a single cigarette about once a week.
She pulled out the slender tube and fumbled for the lighter when a match flared behind her. Catherine swung around, once again almost falling as the spiked heels caught in the carpet.
A strong arm gripped her forearm steadying her.
