Do NOT Read!!!
By Katrina Chanice
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I
The house looked alive under the orange glow of the lanterns. Every window pulsed with the heat of the music, every wall stretched with shadows in motion. My annual Halloween party had become something of a legend amongst my friends; an evening where the respectable loosened their collars, the quiet ones spoke too loudly, and everyone hid behind costumes long enough to forget the lives they’d built. I used to love it. Now, as I stood at the edge of the crowd, drink untouched in my hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something in the air had changed; like a spell gone wrong.
My wife, Olivia, moved through the guests like she’d been born under candlelight. Every time she laughed, people turned. I used to take pride in that, that she could hold a room. But tonight, her laughter felt different; slippery, evasive, something I couldn’t quite hold onto. She looked for me once, across the room, eyes glinting behind the mask that she insisted on wearing. She smiled, small and soft, the same smile she’d given me the night we met. Then someone whispered in her ear. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed as a phantom. My wealthy uncle had her attention shifted. The smile stayed, but not for me.
I told myself that I imagined it. That’s what love does; it trains you to forgive the first wrong note, to call it an echo instead of a warning. The night thickened. Laughter blurred with the bassline. The smell of flavored hookahs and spilled spiked spooky swamp punch hung heavy in the air. I made small talk, nodded through stories, raised my glass when people toasted, even managed a joke or two, but my mind stayed with her. I kept catching fragments of her voice, the sound of her heels, flashes of blue in the crowd. She was always somewhere else.
Suddenly to my left was my best friend walking in wearing my favorite color. It complemented her beautiful caramel skin perfectly. The outfit she chose was overly revealing, in my opinion. Clearly single once again and on the prowl. Brooklynn never stayed single for long. Maybe a few months before she was caught up in another relationship with some scrub that was ready to break her heart the moment they met. I kept all of my intrusive thoughts to myself. I knew she needed to slow down and take her time getting to know these guys, but Brooklynn was grown and was going to do what she wanted to. Eventually she’d learn that most of these guys only wanted sex from her.
Not too many wanted an actual relationship with her. She was rather intimidating to the majority of guys that approached her. Only hoping to score another notch in their belts. Not looking for anything more than bragging rights of having gotten down with a girl like her. I most definitely lied when I stated that I was nothing like them. That was four years ago. You’ll say anything to get them drawls really. I should’ve taken my time with her and really gotten to know her. I completely rushed it like a fool and now I’m stuck in a situation that I have no idea how to get out of.
Just as my thoughts continued to drift off into wonderland, a glimpse of my wife; the sexy cop off in the dark corner kissing the phantom, my wealthy uncle. I sighed heavily and downed my glass of whiskey. Granted, I didn’t marry her for love; I had hoped that she’d be as faithful to me as I was to her. She was a flirt. She loved attention and I didn’t mind it at first. Now, I regret a many things. An attention seeking whore can never be a housewife. Or any kind of wife for that matter. The ultimate betrayal. To witness my wife eagerly and happily tonguing down my uncle, the phantom, at what’s suppose to be our annual Halloween party.
This was the third year that we’d thrown this party and every year; my best friend, Brooklynn, came looking better than the last year. She was really driving me crazy with the costume changes. From Poison Ivy to Mrs. Incredible and now Halle Berry’s character from the Flintstones movie. The black and orange tiger stripes, the orange colored pixie cut was definitely a cherry on top but the heels…. My God, those sexy black heels that wrapped around her legs gave me goosebumps. I needed to be snuggled amongst those thick thighs ASAP and had no idea how that would ever happen. Somehow, I placed myself in the friend zone trying to be fucking respectful and now I have no idea how to get her attention for a second chance.
Another shot of whiskey to calm my nerves before crashing out on my damn wife as everybody is starting to notice her now grouping my fucking uncle so freely as if we’re not even married. This only caused me to look at Brooklynn even more. An intense desire to rip that Flintstone dress right off her was fully taking over and yet I was trying my best not to be another sex hungry deviant just wanting to get off with her fine ass.
Brooklynn tapped me on my shoulder startling me just a bit. She’s rather quick when she wants to be and seeing the fucked up actions of my wife, made me lose sight of this timeless goddess. Without missing a beat, she says, “Hey BestFriend! How you been?”
While shaking my head, I sighed and stated, “Could definitely be better.” I paused to take in her beauty while saying with a flirtatious demeanor hoping she’d catch my drift, “You look good in orange.”
She did this perfect 360, showing off her costume like she knew what I wanted. Always the perfect tease. She knew I wanted to make her bed rock all motherfucking night long. I understood that she never really wanted to be with me and only enjoying the way she gets me discombobulated by simply being around her. The thought to snatch her fine ass up and place her on the kitch counter that I was leaning against, had severely invaded my thoughts when she replied, “I wore it just for you BestFriend. Orange cha glad I wore it.”
I laughed so hard attempting to mask the thought that I was thinking, ‘That’s it. You’re mine now!’ She’d placed her hand around my neck pulling me closer for what I thought was a kiss where I was sadly disappointed when she whispered in my ear, “I think Olivia’s had one too many drinks. She’s a bit confused on where she left you.”
The storm started outside around midnight. Lighting flashed through the big windows, cutting through the warm glow of the chandeliers. A few guests screamed playfully. Someone joked about the perfect Halloween weather. The next thought flushed out the previous thought as I said to myself, ‘Why the fuck you gotta be so damn perfect?” Brooklynn loves storms. She says they made her feel alive, that the thunder reminded her she was small in the grand scheme of things.
In the beginning of our friendship before I rushed into a marriage with Olivia, I used to hold Brooklynn through those stormy nights; counting the seconds between the flashes and the sound. Now here she was looking like all of my dreams come true. What others would deem as selfish or cruel was simply the pursuit of happiness for me. The plan to divorce Olivia had activated the moment Brooklynn walked through the door needing a wild caveman. While ignoring her statement and I took her hand saying, “I need to talk to you in private.”
We went into the garage under the pretense of needing a private conversation. Really, I just needed to breathe. The garage was quiet, the music muffled by distance. Brooklynn lingered by the garage door. Something in me cracked. I had no desire to discuss Olivia’s infidelities a second longer. She could do as she pleased as I was about to do the same damn thing. The moment Brooklynn let go of my hand and started to walk back up the stairs into the kitchen, I grabbed her hand spinning her around into my embrace. Placing my hand on her beautiful face, bringing her closer to my lips. She stopped and looked at me as if needing confirmation. The only confirmation that I could give her was following through with at the very least kissing her.
She allowed me to tongue her down in a way that I believed would never happen. Her hands ran up my back with her nails saoftly grazing back down. Everything was intense. The moment we locked eyes, I kneeled down while pushing her Flintstone skirt up. A few kisses and nibbles on her inner thighs, caused moans to escape and her hands massaging my scalp. She leaned up against the hood of my cocaine while corvette. Her body shivered from the cold hood of the corvette. She quickly adjusted to the temperature of the corvette while her body continued to heat up from the way I parted her outer lips with the tip of my tongue.
With one thick thigh situated on my shoulder, the other one was soon to join the other side. The more I slurped, the more she massaged my scalp. Best feeling in the world as I swirled my head around, enjoying the best meal of my life. I was hooked and didn’t want to let up for nothing in the world. Her knee buckled and I knew it was time to pick up her other thick thigh. It was the whiskey that caused me to slam into her so hard the first few times. To fill her up with all ten inches was my only mission and fill her up I did.
I flipped her over and rammed her effortlessly from the back. Slapping her ass just to feel the recoil jiggle back against the slams of my balls against her outer lips. With one of my hands around her throat and the other gripping into her side; I plowed into her until that orange pixie wig started to lift from the beads of sweat forming. Within an instant, the wig was stuffed into her purse, makeup all fucked up, heels in one hand and a sweet kiss from her lips to mine as she says, “Thank you BestFriend.”
I watched her tiptoe to her truck and drive off. The entire I stood there wondering to myself, ‘Why is she thanking me?’
