Iris and Sam have a sexy ‘deflowering’ party for two on Halloween.

by  MoonlitOpal. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

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On a beautiful late October afternoon, Sam and I decided to eat lunch
outside the call center where we worked. Sitting on a wooden bench near
the building entrance, we dug into the sandwiches we’d brought from
home.

“It’s such a gorgeous day,” I sighed. The sky held no trace of
clouds, and a maple to my right was spectacular in its display of
scarlet foliage. Breathing deep, I delighted in the cool, crisp air.

“Soon it’s going to be freezing,” Sam said. We’d been working
together for almost a year, long enough for me to know he preferred
summer to colder weather. “Then there will be no lunches for you and me
outside, Iris. We’ll be stuck inside the cafeteria for months.”

I knew he was right, but I wouldn’t let thoughts of winter, with its
frigid days and waning light, dampen my mood. Sam and I chatted about
work and how hectic things had been as of late, and after I finished my
sandwich, I reached for the small bag of candy corn I’d packed for
dessert. Though I knew Sam didn’t share my love of sweets, I offered
some to him anyway.

He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on!” I insisted. “It’s almost Halloween! It’s practically tradition to eat candy corn this time of year.”

He looked at me with an amused smile, and I couldn’t help feeling a
nervous flutter deep in the pit of my stomach. Sam was twenty-three, a
year older than I, and he had gorgeous brown eyes, so expressive they
could make a girl’s heart melt. His dark hair seemed in constant need of
a trim; sometimes I had to resist the urge to run my fingers through it
and brush it back from his face.

“My family never celebrated Halloween,” Sam revealed. I remembered
him mentioning that his parents were extremely religious. Sam didn’t
strike me as particularly devout, and I got a sense that his lack of
faith had caused a rift between him and the rest of his family. “It’s
just like any other day to me,” he went on.

I loved Halloween, though being a shy introvert, I never did much to
enjoy the festivities. Parties and crowds made me break out in a sweat,
so I usually spent Halloween at my mom’s house, where we would hand out
candy and watch scary movies while eating enough junk food to give us a
sugar high. This year, however, she had to travel for work, and I’d
resigned myself to spending Halloween alone in my apartment.

Turning toward Sam now, I playfully held out my tongue so he could
see the piece of candy corn resting on it. “You should get dressed up
and binge on candy at least once in your life,” I told him.

“Well, what about you?” he asked. “What are your plans for Halloween?”

I shrugged. “My social life is pretty much nonexistent, so I don’t
have any. Unless…” My heart suddenly felt like it was pounding in my
throat, and my mouth grew dry from nervousness. I averted my stare, then
sneaked a glance at him. “Unless you want to come over to my
apartment,” I finally managed to say.

My ability to flirt was abysmal; I couldn’t have been beguiling if my
life depended on it. To make matters worse, I knew my face was growing
hot as I waited for Sam’s answer.

When he didn’t speak right away, I awkwardly rushed on. “We could
dress up if you want–there’s still time to get costumes–and I could make
a pizza for dinner. We could watch campy old horror movies and drink
apple cider…”

Even as I spoke, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Sam. I was afraid he would find me pathetic.

“You know what, Iris? That sounds like a lot of fun,” he said, and I
knew I wasn’t imagining it when he moved a few inches closer to me.

I tried and failed to suppress a delighted grin at his response.
“Awesome! Why don’t you come over at around six?” I suggested. Sam knew I
lived in the lower-level apartment of a house not far from the call
center. “I’ll give you the address, and when you get there, just come
around back.”

Sam’s smile widened, as if my enthusiasm was contagious. “So you’re
going to introduce me to all the delights of Halloween?” he asked.

Something in the tone of his voice made a delicious shiver travel down my spine. “I certainly hope to,” I replied.

He raised an eyebrow, and I had to duck my head so I could hide
behind my shoulder-length brown hair. All the while, I told myself to
calm down and stop acting like an idiot. It was just a little
get-together at my place. Sam probably didn’t even consider it a date.
We were simply two friends hanging out for Halloween because we had no
other plans.

So why did I feel so nervous? Why were my palms sweaty and my hands
shaky? Why was it that when I imagined Sam leaning in to kiss me, the
thought sent a surge of heat straight between my thighs?

“And you’re going to wear a costume?” Sam asked.

I looked up and gave him what I hoped was a casual smile. “Sure! I
mean, you don’t have to, but I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in
forever, so I figure this is my chance to go all out.”

Sam reached over to pluck a piece of candy corn from the bag in my
lap. “Then I’ll dress up, too. I can’t promise anything spectacular, but
I’ll do my best,” he said.

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” Already I was trying to
decide on a costume for myself. Should I be a witch? A princess? A
ghost? None of those seemed original enough.

When my eyes met Sam’s once more, I immediately realized just what I
wanted to be. Sitting so close to him, I knew I was the very definition
of average: average height, average weight. My hazel eyes were somewhat
large yet could still pass for average.

But during the one night of the year when Sam and I would be alone,
and I could transform into whatever or whomever I wanted, I resolved to
be anything but average. I would be bold and confident, no longer shy
and insecure.

And maybe, just maybe, I would be brave enough to make it clear to
Sam just how I felt about him. With any luck, he might decide he felt
the same way about me.

Halloween was still several days away, but I went shopping for a
costume as soon as I left work later that afternoon. Some quick online
browsing led me to a store downtown, and I could barely contain my
excitement as I stepped inside the place.

“Can I help you find something?” a woman behind the counter asked me.

“The Bride of Frankenstein,” I quickly replied, then added, “the
costume, I mean.” All the while I prayed the store had it in my size.

The fates must have been smiling down upon me, because the saleslady
easily located a costume that looked like it would be a perfect fit.
“You’re welcome to try it on,” she told me.

I gazed at the black wig, which of course featured white streaks on
either side, and I imagined how I would look wearing it after I applied
some dark red lipstick, along with black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow.

The sleeves of the virginal white dress resembled bandages, and the
garment’s hem was almost floor-length. As I stroked the satiny fabric, I
grinned with delight.

“I don’t need to try it on,” I said to the saleslady. “This is what I want.”

The costume was a little pricey for my budget, but I handed over my
credit card without hesitation. As I stared down at the dress on the
counter, the symbolism of the outfit wasn’t lost on me. While I would
soon be twenty-three, I’d never had a real boyfriend, and I was still a
virgin.

After I paid for the costume and left the shop, I decided to swing by
the grocery store. Outside the entrance, I studied the pumpkins for
sale and finally selected a nice round one, large enough for carving.
Once inside, I pushed a cart down the aisles, grabbing a frozen pizza, a
variety pack of Halloween candy, and a half gallon of apple cider.
Lingering in the cosmetics section, I chose the perfect shade of
lipstick.

As I surveyed the items in my cart, I realized I was smiling. Simply
planning for my evening with Sam made that excited flutter return to my
stomach.

I tried not to let myself get too carried away imagining what Sam and
I might do together on Halloween, but still I wandered the aisles,
searching for an item I didn’t dare ask for help in finding.

Finally I located the condoms, and I stared in bewilderment at all
the different kinds. Glancing around, I was relieved no other customers
were nearby. Then I set about reading the descriptions on the boxes
before choosing a brand that boasted durability. If I did have sex,
durability was definitely what I wanted in a condom.

I paid for the groceries and then started for home. By the time I
pulled into the driveway, it was almost dark, and Nora, the woman who
owned the house and lived on the upper level, had left the porch light
on. I smiled at the kind gesture, though the entrance to my apartment
was at the back of the house, so the light from the porch provided
almost no illumination once I reached my door.

Nora was middle-aged and recently divorced,