"So honey, any ideas for the costume party?" my wife asked. Pam was standing at the kitchen counter, chopping carrots for the salad. She was a petite brunette and her hips shifted as she leaned against the counter, giving a nice curve to her back.
Even after five years of marriage, I was still crazy about her, but I wasn't crazy about the idea of this costume party at her friend's house. Why couldn't we just go and pull a good drunk? I remember the last time I had to get dressed up. I wore a frightening latex mask in the shape of a skull, a black leather jacket, motorcycle boots, and black jeans. I looked pretty damned frightening and cool at the same time, but it was impossible to drink beer through the mouth hole and within an hour, condensation from my breath had turned the inside of the mask into a sauna. Eventually, I took it off, but after sweating in the goddamn thing for hours; I was still a damned scary sight.
Then an idea struck me. "You could dress up as wonder woman, and I could be that guy from the Airforce," I said a little too helpfully.
"Bore-ing..." Pam replied. "How about Little-bo- peep and her sheep?"
"That's sick," I said. "And no way am I going to dress up as a sheep with people asking me if I'm lost all night."
I ran through some ideas in my head. God, I wish she would have dressed up as Wonderwoman. I could imagine her in those tight blue panties, her shapely legs, and a top that wasn't much of a top. The images in my head were waking up the little guy down below. It was then, with my mind in the gutter, when inspiration struck. "I could be a pimp and you could go as my ho."
"I don't like pimps," she said, then waved the knife at me. "Besides, I don't need protectin'. But I like the way you are thinking."
Pam snuck up behind me and reached around, grabbing my cock through my pants. "I thought so," she said, while I tried to continue working on the stir-fry.
"What about a cop?" she asked.
"What about a cop?"
"Silly," she said. "You know. A cop and a Ho."
"It gets my vote." The little guy liked it too. He throbbed in her hot hand as images of Pam in a tiny black number, high heels, and stockings crept in my mind.
Pam leaned close and whispered in my ear. "A whore would have to do whatever the cop said to keep from getting taken down town, wouldn't she?"
"Yes, she would." Okay, Halloween just moved from last place to first as my favorite holiday. I wanted to dress up now. I wished Halloween came every week.
"Oh yes, she certainly would," Pam growled as she unhooked my belt and worked at my zipper.
"What about dinner?" I asked.
"Are you that hungry?"
"Not for stir-fry." I cut off the stove, turned around and grabbed her. We didn't even make it to the bedroom.
The week seemed to last forever, and then, thank God, Halloween arrived. I had several recurring fantasies of my wife dressed up as my Ho' all week. I hoped I could make a couple of them come true.
"Honey, I've got the costumes." I heard Pam shout from downstairs.
"Alright!" I said, as I bounded down the steps. "Are you ready to try them on?"
"Don't even think about it buster," Pam warned with a smile. "We don't have time to play around. Just enough time to get dressed and go to the party."
"Do we have time enough for a quick cavity search?"
"If you're lucky, I'll let you pat me down for weapons officer Morgan."
I took the outfit and hurried to the bedroom to try it on. It was then that disaster struck. My arms hung down from the sleeves of the shirt. The pants and shoes? Fa-get-about-it. My fantasies were quickly dissolving. I looked to silly to be a cop. I looked like Jethro.
"Honey," Pam said, as she came out of the bathroom. "I think there's been a mistake."
I burst out laughing at her. She looked at me and laughed as well. Her dress was too big for her and her heels swallowed her feet. She looked like a little girl who got lost in her mom's closet.
"Those bastards!" she laughed. "They must have got the sizes switched. What are we going to do?"
"We could go as Mark and Pam," I volunteered.
Pam looked me up and down and smiled wickedly. I didn't like the look she was giving me. I felt like a mouse being eyed up by the cat. She came over, sat on my lap, and kissed me.
"Oh Markie," she said. Her hand found its way through the hole in my boxers. "You know what else we could do?"
"No," I squeaked, but I knew what she was thinking. I didn't like it, but I knew alright.
She licked her upper lip and bit her pouting lower one. "I could be the cop..." she said huskily. "... and you could be the whore."
"No way." Uh huh. No way. No how.
"I could make it worth you while," she said and traced my lips with her tongue. "Besides, we don't even know for sure that they will fit."
"Sure you can, it's Halloween."
"But what about... you know... the little guy."
"He feels like a big guy to me right now," she said, giving him a shallow pump. "Don't worry. I can take care of him. I can take care of everything."
She went down on her knees and took the head of my cock in her mouth. She sucked it and leisurely ran her tongue along the ridges. It wasn't enough to bring me off, but it felt damned good. I felt my resistance weakening by the second.
"Puh-leaze," she said, and gave my cock a kiss on the very tip.
My resistance dissolved. "We'll try. But no promises. If I look too stupid or you laugh the show's over."
She jumped up, squealed happily, and clapped her hands. "Oh goody, oh goody, this is going to be so much fun!" She led me to the bathroom and stripped my clothes off.
"First a shower." Pam turned on the shower and pushed me in.
I got in, picked up a bar of soap, and started to lather up.
"Oh no," Pam said, as she slipped into the shower with me, and snatched the soap from my hand. "Just leave it up to me Sugah; I'll take care of everything." She squeezed some gel onto a shower puff and lathered me up. It smelled like peaches. Hell, I guess I smelled like peaches as well. She caressed my cock or my nipples every now and then, keeping me in a state of constant excitement.
"Now comes the fun part," she said, as she started to coat me legs in shaving cream.
"Oh no," I said. "That's going too far."
She licked and sucked at my balls. "Shhhh..." she said. "Lots of guys shave. It makes it easier to see your muscles."
I can't believe it, but I allowed her to shave me. All over. I blush thinking about it, but she even shaved me around my ass. The only thing she left me was a tiny triangle of curly hair above my cock.
"God, you are so sexy," she said, gently licking at my cock. "You make me want to cream."
"Fuck the party. Let's stay here and play. I'm horny as hell."
"Not yet. Come on," she urged. "Let me finish you up."
"That's exactly what I was hoping for." My balls ached, and I was desperate to cum.
"I meant your costume," she said.
We got out of the shower. She dried me and wrapped the towel around herself.
"Whores always wear lots of perfume." She took out her perfume and sprayed me on my neck, crotch, and stomach. She looked at me critically, smiled, shrugged her shoulders and sprayed me some more.
"First let's do something with these nails." Pam took out a pack of fake nails. "Here we are. Nice long whore nails."
"These come off, don't they?" I asked. No way was I going to let her do anything permanent, no matter what the inducement she was offering.
"Of course," she shrugged me off. "They're just press on and pop off." She stuck them on and the painted them. When she was finished, she had me hold them up and blow in them. While I did this, she painted my toenails.
"Baby, don't you think you are taking this a little too seriously. I haven't said I was going like this yet," I said.
"I know, just let me finish with your nails and then we'll put on your makeup." Pam said, ignoring all my protests.
"And whores love their makeup." My wife proceeded to give my face a liberal coating of make-up, complete with long fake eyelashes.
"Stop calling me whore," I said, struggling to get up. "And let me look in a mirror. I want to see what kind of damage you've done."
She pushed me down on the toilet seat and straddled me. The towel fell from her body as she shifted back and forth. "Be patient," she said, kissing me deeply, stabbing her tongue into my mouth.
"Good girl," Pam said. "Not stay there and let me finish you up."
Soon, I was completely in costume, sporting red heels, a black padded bra, black fishnets and garters, and a black mini skirt and top that hugged me like a glove. Completing the outfit was a big blond wig.
"One last thing," my wife said, as she unwrapped a piece of bubble gum and pushed it in my mouth. "Okay, now you can look at yourself."
The image that greeted me in the mirror was astounding. My wife had done a good job. I looked like a prostitute sure enough. More precisely, I looked like a pretty damned scary prostitute. The clothes hugged my slender build and the heels made my legs and ass look... well... sexier than I felt comfortable with. But, the jaw, the muscular shoulder and arms, and the fact that I was six four in heels made me look as much like some sort of androgynous Amazon as a whore.
"You're a good looking whore." Pam hugged me from behind. Her hand were busy sliding up my stocking clad legs and playing with my garters, which I had to admit felt damned sexy.
.... There is more of this story ...