Love to Love You Baby!

(Sexually explicit)

This was the first party Carly’s mom condoned her attending, and it was going to be awesome! Thank God her friend Lizzy was such a smooth talker. If Lizzy hadn’t been there when she asked her mom, the answer would have been a flat-out “no,” without question. The precept that ‘honesty is the best policy’ was one her mother lived by, which made Carly’s little white lie feel even more risky.

“Okay, let’s have a look at your costume.” Her bedroom door swung open, and her mother, dressed in her usual sweatpants and T-shirt, waltzed in. Her expression denoted she was prepared to throw out a list of negative comments about Carly’s costume. As soon as her eyes landed on her, everything about her stopped short, and her grin stretched with aggrandized pride. “You’re going as a fairy princess?”

“Sure. I mean, why not?” She shifted in her glass slippers that were actually clear plastic. They matched her tiara, with added plastic sapphire insets. The gown she wore was a polyester blue silk with white lace around the puffy sleeves, the hem, and the bodice. The neckline was conservatively low and had a lace insert. There was no question she was a royal princess—no fairy, but for the sake of saving an argument…

“Wait a second,” her mom interjected. “I’ll be right back.” As quickly as she’d arrived, she was gone and then back again with her hands hiding something behind her back.

When she entered, she saw Carly applying final touches of light blue glitter eyeshadow on the underside of her brow.

Carly stood tall, hands on her hips and head cocked to one side, hoping that whatever her mom had behind her back wouldn’t kill the mood she’d worked so hard to maintain but reveal a janissary.

“Ta-da!” she whipped her hands out from behind her back with pride, pulling out two elbow-length white gloves. “What do you think?”

The amazement on Carly’s face expressed what words couldn’t possibly. “Where in the world did those come from?” she questioned, taking the gloves into her hands and running her fingers down them. “These are the real thing, not fake like the rest of it.”

“True,” her mother sighed, relaxing her posture. “These are actually from my wedding. But I figure this is a really special night, and this way, you can have something of mine with you—for good luck, you know?”

Throwing her arms around her mother’s neck and pulling her in for a hug, with the gloves clasped tightly in her hand, she gave her a sincere squeeze of gratitude. “Thank you so much, Mom.”

A horn honked outside, and she pulled the blinds away from the wall to give the driveway a look. “It’s Lizzy,” she reported. “I gotta go.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “Don’t wait up, okay?”

“Home by midnight, Cinderella,” her mother called after her, “or your butt is going to turn into a pumpkin!”

“Mom, can you ease up on the dramatics?” the voice echoed from downstairs, followed by a giggle, just before the front door slammed shut.

The VW Bug purred in the driveway, sounding like it hiccuped every so often, but the pink color drew attention away from the irregular sounds of the engine—at least in the daytime. As Carly opened the door, Lizzy leaned over the console and flashed her bloody fangs and pale face accented with lots and lots of blood. “Well, well, well,” Lizzy snarled.

“A very deep subject,” Carly added in a fun and whimsical, high voice. “Are we gonna blow the lid off this place or what?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” They both chanted, simultaneously, and laughed together as the car rolled out of the driveway and headed down the street. The windows and body vibrated in time as the bass pumped rhythmically from the speakers.

There was no question as to which house contained the high schoolers’ party. And although Lizzy was the one who told Carly’s mom there were chaperones there, there was no effort made to tell the truth. So, in Carly’s mind, she didn’t lie; she just worked her way around the truth, was all. Besides, with the turnout here, if she hadn’t come, her entire school would know about it. And that was not going to happen tonight.

There were vehicles parked all up and down the cul-de-sac, and both stories of the house were glowing on the outside, due to skillfully placed jack-o’-lanterns periodically lined up at the edge of the driveway and along the porch. But the spiderwebs that were strewn back and forth, as well as up and down, were a tangled mess no one could avoid. The tiny flashing orange, purple, and green bulbs positioned behind them created an eerie splay of colors that began dark and lightened as the lights moved across the threads. Across the front lawn were humorous tombstones, some with bony hands poking up in front, but all of them with clever statements on them: Nora Manes, Barry D. Hatchet, Irma Goner, etc. Then, of course, a conglomeration of ghouls, clowns, demons, vampires, etc., scattered about and standing in the doorway, talking over the music and laughing it up—most of them with a red plastic cup in one hand. “Go-Juice” was what it was referred to, formerly known as “Jungle Juice” in the olden days, and all parties had it by the barrelfuls. Specifically wanting to try it, Carly had only heard of it, and the opportunity had finally arrived to see if the cacophony around it was true.

When the girls approached the door, entering was quite a feat—not because of any locks or anything like that, just the influx of bodies crammed within the doorframe. Mostly, they were people attempting to get in. For some reason, they all paused to find a familiar face before entering, as if it might be the wrong teenage Halloween party—on Elm Street, no less.

Plastering on their smiles, while holding tightly enough to Lizzy’s arm that a tattoo artist might need to cover the discoloration, Carly was almost through when a demonic clown stuck her extraordinarily oversized shoe directly in front of her. Never even seeing it, Carly tripped, plunging forward and losing her grip on Lizzy’s arm as her fingers dug in even tighter. Sure, she could audibly make out Lizzy’s shrill scream of despair through some strange echo chamber that seemed to surround her, but visibly, the crowd swallowed her up. That was when Carly realized they hadn’t made their usual game plan of coordinating a time and place to meet up if all else failed—or didn’t. Who knows? Maybe they’d find a totally hot guy and need to tell the other?

As she floundered on the floor, searching for something to grab onto so she could stand, a formidable hand gently seized her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “Thank you,” she said as she steadied herself. “Sort of a rough start for someone who hasn’t even tasted the punch, right?” She nervously tittered and noticed that this minatory guest’s other arm was coiled around a decapitated head. “Oh,” it finally dawned on her as she pointed out the obvious. “You can’t speak because… I get it.”

“I’m surprised anyone can communicate in here,” an insipid voodoo doll with numerous short ponytails jutting out of her head shouted at Carly above the commotion. Carly noted that the music was quite loud and wondered if anyone could communicate. Whether it was understood or not, plenty of people were yelling to each other, but all of them seemed to have a drink in their hand. She figured each person probably thought they heard the other person and answered accordingly. No wonder they were all so happy. They all heard what they wanted to hear—but it was a party, after all.

The headless man motioned with his arm to the table on the far side of the room. Two people stood behind it: a farmer with an oversized straw hat and a graduate who seemed to have died in a car accident, brandishing bruises and lesions across his face. The graduate pulled a bullhorn up to his mouth and bellowed, “You need a drink for you and your—How’s he going to drink?” He sounded genuinely concerned for the guy.

Surprised and caught off guard, Carly chuckled. “Good question!” The nervousness was evident as the man behind the counter turned to the man accompanying Carly.

“Would you care for a drink?” the server inquired.

Without a skosh of hesitation, his shoulders gyrated back and forth like a super-large washing machine. The server shrugged and turned back to Carly. “See that? He’s a non-drinker.” He leaned forward as if he intended to whisper, even putting his hand alongside his mouth. “I still wouldn’t let him drive.”

“Right!” Carly laughed, appreciating her new friend’s shoulders shaking with humor. When she received her drink shortly after, she took a gratuitous sip. “OMG, this is exactly what I thought it would taste like!” she exclaimed with excitement. “Do you want to dance?”

The head in the crook of the arm winked, didn’t he? Or was it the nuance of the drink—making her mind play tricks on her? Well, it was already in her stomach and pumping through her veins; she may as well enjoy herself—while keeping an eye open for Lizzy, of course. Try as she might, searching among all the bobbing heads through the flashing colorful lights, Lizzy couldn’t be located. Meanwhile, the Go-Juice was working overtime as her glass magically never emptied. Of course, the more the night progressed, the more she drank, and the less sense anything made—but she didn’t care one iota. Until, over the rambunctious crowd, an announcement from the deejay sounded.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a classic tune which, in my opinion, should never have been stripped from the shelves of our great nation—the most un-Halloween song ever, from 1975—at the request of The Headless Horseman. Everyone, find someone to love!”

Everyone clapped and cheered as Donna Summer belted out above the boisterous rapture of the crowd, “Love to Love You Baby.” As soon as the music started playing, The Headless Horseman gathered the intoxicated princess in his free arm. He twirled her into an oblivious euphoria, landing her against his chest and crushing her against him. His face pressed his nose against her breast, and she could feel the fabric of her gown breathing in and out against his orifices as if he were deliberately drowning in her scent, but she loved it, and she loved him. In some bizarre manner, she felt as if she’d known him her entire life.

Carly was in a place she never would have imagined possible, both physically and emotionally, so soon. Before she knew what was happening, she was following him up the winding staircase that flowed along the outer wall around the room, holding tightly to his hand as if letting go would cause her to drown. As his gait increased, she stumbled but fought to keep up until he stopped in front of a set of double doors.

Swooning, Carly couldn’t stop giggling as he drew her in front of him and pushed her back against the doors, temporarily pinning her against them. Groping her breast with his free hand, he held his decapitated head up to her mouth. His kiss was sweet and languid as she found herself starving for more, unable to satisfy her desire no matter how intensely she pushed against his body.

The doors popped open and slammed on either side of the doorframe, revealing a king-size bed suffocating in fluffy pillows and ruffles, adorned with an overwhelming amount of red velvet rose petals. Her feet slid out from under her as she realized he’d never asked her name, and she’d never even heard his voice. She wasn’t even positive she was making out with a male. Females could be especially strong.

Perhaps a horribly deformed person was inside and about to reveal repulsive physical attributes at any moment. Her mind was flooded with tantalizing and horrific possibilities! And then she realized she couldn’t care less. The feelings engulfing her body couldn’t be extinguished if he was the ugliest man she’d ever met or the manliest woman.

Whoever would be climbing on top of her as she lay back on the bed deserved to be there, and she would give herself to them a hundred and fifty percent. 

Carly lay stretched out on the bed with an alluring curiosity, unaware of what came over her as she clasped the bottom of her layered dress with one hand and pulled it up to reveal her garter belt and white stockings that clung to her firm thighs. Her hands extended into the air above her as she tugged at each finger of the gloves until she could slide them off with ease and gently set them on the edge of the bed.

The Headless Horseman gingerly gathered the gloves, setting them aside on the dresser, and instead set his head on the bed next to her hips. Then he began to unfasten his trousers one button at a time. One thing was for sure—there was only one female in that room, and it was reaffirmed as he picked up his head and carefully placed it between her legs, rotating it up and down as well as side to side.

Of that first teenage party Carly attended, there were three things of which she had no doubt: she had an undeniable weakness for Go-Juice, Halloween was her favorite holiday, and she had the ride of her life that All Hallow’s Eve. That song played over and over in her head whenever she had a hard time falling asleep, as she recalled her first true love, The Headless Horseman.

What she hadn’t counted on was leaving her mother’s borrowed gloves on the dresser. Would she ever get them back? Only The Headless Horseman knows!