Tricked but no Treats

I hate Halloween. I have always thought it was a stupid holiday that was born more of greed than anything else. In my opinion, the whole Halloween thing is just like Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, and Father's Day. They were all created by the retail industry to sell more products. The unintended consequence has been the desensitization of millions of people to what is really important. But this is simply my opinion. Sitting in my favorite bar, enjoying a cold beer and a hamburger, I barely acknowledge that Halloween is approaching. This will be the first anniversary of the Halloween where I got tricked and sure as hell didn't get any treats.

To fully understand what happened, a little background is important. Eight years ago, I married Lisa Simpson. We stood together in front of several hundred people in a beautiful church and pledged our vows to one another. For the next 7 years, life was idyllic. We were both in our mid-twenties, college educated, with good jobs.

The first Halloween that we celebrated as husband and wife was an eye-opening experience for me. Suddenly, our condo became spook central. I mean, it was almost traumatic for a person like me who thrives on simplicity and order in their life. The condo transformed into a Halloween hot spot. Our roommates became an assortment of ghouls, goblins, and ghosts. Fake cobwebs hung everywhere and no matter where you moved in the condo, a motion sensitive creation of some sort, jumped, banged, or emitted ghastly howls and groans with flashing LED eyes.

Three years later, we purchased our first home and moved from the condo. The first Halloween in our home was another eye-opening experience. My wife went full bore in Halloween mode. The entire front of our house suddenly transformed into a collection of every Halloween yard display available. That was also the year that we hosted our first Halloween party. Parties are not in my repertoire. I don't like crowds, and I am not a social person. I much prefer to be at home, in my space, to dealing with a bunch of drunk assholes. My wife, on the other hand, finds these types of social engagements energizing and exciting. Typically, I go to these events and come home mentally and physically drained, while she comes home from the same event wound up like a two-day clock, hyped and wired.

Every year, when Halloween rolled around, things escalated. The decorations became more elaborate and more expensive. The parties became more numerous and, in my view, more demanding and exhausting. However, I loved my wife and I knew that showing at least a little interest in her fascination with Halloween would mean a happier year. You know the drill. Happy wife, happy life.

Last year, things changed. I thought the changes were for the best when I first heard about them. My wife still insisted on decorating the interior and exterior of the house. Again, there were new decorations. I plodded through getting everything out and arranging it to her specifications. I fully expected to host another party but was pleasantly surprised when Lisa announced that instead of holding a party, we were going to the community wide Halloween bash at the local convention center. She had purchased VIP tickets to the event. Even the $150 per ticket seemed well worth the expense to me, since I didn't have to prepare for the party or clean up afterward. The fact that the tickets got us dinner and an open bar all evening did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm.

Since it was Halloween, of course, this was a costume event. I anticipated doing my usual and finding some cheap adult costume at the local discount supercenter. My wife was having none of that. She was quick to inform me that she would take care of the costumes. When she told me that, I shrugged and forgot about finding a costume.

Two days before the big event, Lisa was bubbling over with excitement. I knew she would start anticipating the event days before it actually occurred, but even I was surprised at her level of excitement. But, if she was happy, I was happy.

Halloween fell on a Saturday that year. The community wide party was held on Saturday evening. Lisa spent most of the day with a grin on her face and literally bouncing around our house. I was content. That afternoon, when she brought out our costumes, I was surprised. Lisa had gone all out and rented theatrical grade costumes for each of us. When she walked into the den with mine, to say I was surprised was an understatement.

Holding the costume on the hanger above her shoulder, Lisa proudly displayed a full Batman costume. I knew I could pull it off. I am 6'5" and played college ball as an offensive tackle. My weight is about 30 pounds lighter than my playing weight, but I am still in excellent shape. The costume had a padded and fitted bodysuit to add a little bulk. I looked at it and smiled.

"That's great. It looks hot, but that shouldn't be a problem. Where's yours?"

I saw the evil grin cross her face.

"You will see it tonight when we leave for the party. And, I think you will be hot in that costume."

I nodded, appreciating the double entendre and the look on her face.

"I'll put your costume in the guest room. You can change there. I will be in our bedroom getting ready. No peeking."

I agreed and settled back into my recliner. The Dallas Cowboys were playing the Houston Oilers in their annual cross state rivalry game. I forgot about the party as I watched the two teams battle. When the game was over, I headed back upstairs to change for the party. The door to our bedroom was closed, and I could hear the shower running. With a grin, I headed to the guestroom to don my costume.

Waiting downstairs in full Batman regalia, I looked in the mirror in the entry hall. I had to admit that the costume was great. It was authentic down to the last detail on the utility belt. The downside was the extra padding in the costume that would make it hot, and the heavy latex hood and mask were tight on my face and head. My thought was that a few drinks would alleviate the discomfort and make the evening much more enjoyable.

Admiring myself in the mirror, I heard Lisa open our bedroom door. I turned to watch as she came down the stairs. Before I could see more than her lower legs, I knew this was going to be exciting. I saw a pair of thigh - high leather boots (well. The boots looked like leather anyway.) The heels on the boots had to be at least 5 and maybe 6 inches. As Lisa came down the stairs, I beheld a latex bodysuit that looked like it had been applied with a spray gun.

My reaction was immediate. The bodysuit of my costume immediately got much tighter as my erection ballooned. When Lisa was in full view, I noticed that she was covered in latex to the top of her head. The costume she wore included a full latex head mask complete with two long braided ponytails hanging down each side.

That was a change for sure. Lisa is no petite creature. She stands almost 5'11" and is proportional. She has large full firm breasts, wide hips and long legs. Her dark brown hair is kept in a bob cut, so seeing her as a blonde was a surprise. I whistled my appreciation, and she strolled toward me seductively.

"You like?"

"What's not to like. Let's skip the party, go trick or treating, and then come back and have our own Halloween celebration."

"No way, big boy. You will get your reward later, but we are going to make the most of those tickets tonight."

I reluctantly agreed, and we set off for the convention center. The parking lot was already getting full. As I said, this is a community wide event, which proved to be popular. Our VIP tickets got us seats at a table with 3 other couples close to the dance floor and the band stand. We were only a few steps away from one of the open bars. I thought the evening might have possibilities. We introduced ourselves to the other couples at the table. I left Lisa to fetch drinks.

The bar closest to our table already had a long line. I saw another bar toward the back of the convention hall that didn't have a line. I headed that direction. As I navigated my way through the crowd, I was surprised to find that my Batman costume was a popular choice. I counted at least 6 other costumes exactly like mine. The costume rental people were probably behind this shindig and were making money hand over fist. I also noted that there were at least 5 other costumes just like the one my wife was wearing.

After dinner, I headed back to the bar for more drinks. As I waited in line, the band started and the lights dimmed. I finally had fresh drinks and returned to our table, but Lisa was not there. One of our table mates told me that a man in a 30s gangster costume had asked her to dance. That wasn't unusual, since I am not light of foot and have never had a problem with Lisa dancing with other men when we are out together. I sat down and turned to look at the dance floor.

Looking across the dance floor, I saw at least three women wearing identical costumes to my wife on the dance floor. One was easy to differentiate. Being much shorter and much more rotund than my wife made her easy to identify. Either of the other two could have been my wife. At distance, they were both tall, leggy and obviously having a great time. The woman dancing with a shorter fellow in a pin-stripped gangster suit, complete with the felt fedora, was strutting my wife's usual dance moves. I sat back to enjoy my drink and watch.

A couple of hours into the party, I was doing my best to get my money's worth out of the open bar. I didn't feel like I was drunk, just pleasantly relaxed. I suspect that, despite my own convictions, I was well on my way to a hefty hangover. Trying to watch my wife every minute was not my usual modus operandi. She was a big girl who could take care of herself. She had been back to the table several times to sit for a minute. The last time she was there, she had drained her drink, and I was needing another as well. I headed to the bar and when I returned, she was gone again. I sat down and put the drinks on the table. One of my table mates, a younger man, was dealing with a broken leg. He and I struck up a conversation. As we talked, I saw his eyes go up and look behind me. I turned and smiled as I saw my wife approaching. This time she sat down across from me and leaned over the table. In my slightly inebriated state, all I could think about was getting her home and peeling that latex off her body. I guess my cognitive abilities were more impaired than I thought.

"Hello Batman. You haven't danced a single dance. Come on."

It isn't unusual for my wife to cajole me into dancing a few times. I took her offered hand and rose, walking with her to the dance floor. The song that started was a slow one, and I felt her mold her latex clad body to the padded bodysuit. My hands went around her, and we started to move in my clumsy fashion. My dance moves closely resembled when I was trying to manhandle a 300 lb. defensive lineman. I am not the most graceful of men.

The first song segued into a second slow song, and we continued to move together. My hands were on her waist when, suddenly, I felt her hands go to mine and move them down to rest on her ass. I smiled behind my mask and gave her sexy butt cheeks a squeeze, making her giggle.

When the song ended, she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar. I ordered two more drinks, handing her one. We stood near the bar watching others dancing. I admit that I was thirsty and drained the class rapidly. I ordered another for myself and looked at her, but she shook her head no. With the new drink in hand, I looked at her, trying to figure her intentions.

My expectation that she would find someone else to dance with was wrong. I saw a sly look in those eyes as she took my hand, leading me around the bar. Pulling aside the heavy curtains that formed the enclosure for the bar, I saw a dark space beyond. Following her into the darkness, I found myself in a niche that held a lot of electrical equipment.

The next thing I felt were hands working at the front of my costume. She was apparently familiar with the way the costume was designed. In seconds, she had the utility belt free, and was opening the fly of the tights. I gasped as I felt cool air on my cock and then her hands working it free of the costume. In the dim light, I saw her drop to her knees and felt her lips encircle my cock. With my eyes closed, I leaned against whatever was behind me and let the feelings wash through me. It didn't take her long to bring me to an orgasm worthy of a superhero. She slowly rose, looking up at me, and used one latex covered finger to wipe across her mouth and then suck the finger clean. To my surprise, she didn't say anything, just stepped out of the niche and disappeared back into the party.

I stood there for a moment before I rearranged my costume, put the utility belt back on and stepped back out myself. Stopping at the bar, I asked the bartender for my usual as a double, and he smiled knowingly. Taking the drink, I walked a little unsteadily back to our table. Sitting alone for a while, my wife eventually came back across the dance floor after another song finished.

She sat down beside me and looked around.

"No drink for me?"

"I'm sorry. You want me to get another one?"

Smiling, she leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Not for me. This party is almost over. Let's get out of here and go home."

That was what I had been waiting to hear all evening long. I stood and realized that I was more under the influence than I thought. Lisa grabbed my arm to steady me.

"Careful there Batman. I may need to drive the Batmobile home."

Nodding my head, I agreed and reached into the pouch on my utility belt and handed her the keys.

Back home, I quickly stripped off the costume and left it laying on the bed in our guest room. I had been commando in the costume, so I walked across the hall naked. Smiling broadly as I walked in, I found Lisa still working to peel the latex. If you haven't dealt with a tight latex costume on a sweaty body, you can't understand the problems. I moved to help her, and we ended up laughing as we struggled with the latex. Finally, we found ourselves laying in the bed breathing heavy, both naked. I rolled over and stroked her naked breast.

"I have been waiting for this since we found that dark corner in the convention hall."

Even in my slightly drunk state, I knew something was wrong. Lisa tensed slightly, and her head turned to look me directly in the eyes.

"Tell me more."

"You don't remember. You came back to the table and we danced. After a couple of slow songs, we went to get fresh drinks and ended up in that equipment niche behind the curtains at the bar."

I saw a forced smile come across her face.

"Did you like what happened?"

"Hell yes. That was one of the best blow jobs you have ever given me."

Lisa rolled to the other side of the bed and stood, her hands on her hips, and looked down at me.

"That's interesting because I never danced with you all night, and I sure as hell didn't go to any dark closet with you."

Let's just say that things went downhill from there. There were some tears, some shouting, recriminations, and accusations. I did my best to defuse the situation, explaining that the woman I thought was Lisa had on the same costume. I blamed my inability to see the difference on my inebriated state, but Lisa wasn't having any of it. The rest of my night was spent in the guest room.

The next few days didn't get much better. Lisa couldn't get past the fact that I had oral sex with some unknown woman. There weren't many excuses, and none of them mollified her. I tried explaining that it was just one instance, a mistake, no real intercourse occurred, and no harm was done. To my surprise, those arguments only seemed to intensify her anger. It seemed that no matter what I said, I only made the situation worse. I suggested counseling, and the answer I got back was a set of divorce papers and a restraining order. The second week after the party found me searching for a cheap apartment.

That leads me here. Sitting in a bar, less than a year later, drinking beer and eating a greasy hamburger and fries. Indigestion is the holiday celebration for me this year. I am alone and divorced. As yet, I still haven't come to terms with the response I got from my wife to the incident. It was like she went nuclear. She certainly nuked my world. We never really spoke again after I was served. I tried to get her involved in counseling, but her attorney successfully argued that there was no need. I asked for a face-to-face sit down before the final papers were signed, and she refused. To this day, I have no idea why she dropped the hammer so hard on me. Hell. It was just a blowjob and I thought it was her

I no longer celebrate Halloween. I got tricked once and the treat I got was bitter.