Sketch Artist

"Shitty day, shitty day, shitty day."

Huddled down in her jacket, digging for her keys, with a stack of canvas under one arm, she spilled the soda... of course. One more breath before tears. On more year. It's going to happen... one more year.

Finally the ball of keys worked itself loose from her pocket, and in a miraculous mind saving moment, the apartment key was right between her thumb and index. Hallelujah for the little victories.

Burst through the door in a flurry. Mind trying to organize. Costume party tonight. Absolutely no idea what to wear. No way that Eddie would have thought to get a costume for both of them. None of this was making the headache go away. Drop everything on the island in the kitchen, deep breath, positive smile. No more hints of tearing up.

Up the stairs, turn the corner to the bedroom and screeching halt.

Eddie is laying on the bed, dressed as a goddamn ringmaster from the circus... and a sexy clown costume... a fucking GORGEOUS sexy clown costume... was laid out beside him... cute new panties and all.

"I know you look forward to this... and I know you've been busting your ass trying to sell that art work," Eddie mumbled. Words weren't his thing. "So I thought I'd surprise you... but its a double edged surprise. Special costume, special rules of engagement for the evening."

Eddie rolled off the bed, looking ridiculously graceful in the brilliant red jacket and top hat. With a flourish, he whipped out his ever present smart phone and a brilliant red clown nose.

"My phone is programmed to respond to the sound of the squeeky nose. silly little app I wrote. The nose squeaks, my phone sends a signal to..."

A dramatic pause? Eddie was really getting into this and it was sexy on him. Eddie continued with a dramatic flair and somehow pulled off enough slight of hand to produce her remote butterfly vibrator. OH SHIT!

"Every time the nose squeaks, my phone changes the setting on the butterfly... and you're going to keep it on you all night."

Tucking the toys back in the outside pocket of the tux jacket and then pulled a joint and a lighter out of the inside pocket.

"Smoke up and get in the shower. We're going out to play tonight, baby."

Puff... puff... puff.... these clothes are light enough, drifting off to the soft pitter patter of the shower. Bouncing water droplets, glorious, bone deep warmth... weight of a thousand gallery deaths and gory rejection letters drifted up past the steam.... and cleaning all her special places in anticipation of evening activities that would leave her in a puddle in the mattress without her body a burden...

Damn, that was some good weed... Thank heavens Eddie was a sober partier... Strange bird that he was, he thought the show was more interesting than the ride... just another reason to love him. He was so devious some days it made her heart ache. Lex Luthor with limited ambition.

The tiny little flounced skirt of black and white diamond barely covered the curve of her ass, and left her delightfully aware of the exposure. Her societal reflexes, carefully honed by mother, kept tell her to pull the fabric down, but she knew better. Halloween is, after all, about breaking taboos. The cleft of her bosom was scandalous by any measure... and this outfit was amazingly flattering. Eddie had nailed it. The brilliant red nose was just ridiculous enough to keep her ego in check.

Reveling in the relaxed feeling of knowing the bills were paid and the power was on, the lights of oncoming traffic faded into a mindless hum of light noise accompanying the thrumming of the stereo. The headache faded into aching strains of vocal acrobats and steely strings... the pain left, the music stayed. A hand on her thigh and a burning awareness that she was being quite naughty helped her cast off the drudgery of the day to day.

Inside the club, Eddie discovered the flaw in his plan. The live band for the night was so loud the sensor couldn't pick up the squeak of the nose. She didn't care. She lost herself in the music and the buzz and the liberty of a masked party. She floated through the night... hands on her body, lighter than air. Sweaty, hot, primal and ridiculous. In love with every part of it.

Eddie was smart enough to stay off the dance floor. He had his little games, but nothing about him glittered under hot lights and heavy music. He sat contentedly and chatted with the endless flow of customers near the bar. His eyes rarely left her and she could feel it. Her mind reeled with delight that she had permission to do it all on the dance floor from the only person whose opinion mattered to her.

She bled her life away under the bass line, grinding on a string of legs and pelvises... every passing moment thrilling her whole being. Music used her body because her master said it could... and that was all that mattered. Total peace. Total trust. Totally gone in the moment. She knew her body would be exhausted when they got home and she knew he was going to make her remember every inch of flesh she touched on the dance floor once the bedroom door closed.

Every leg she touched reminded her of the moment she knew was coming before the end of the night. She fantasized on the dance floor about a guy standing in the corner. Every man who touched her thought he had won the jackpot for the evening until she drifted away to rub her curves on the next. She was lost in the thought of Eddie spreading her out on the bed and doing that thing to her body that made her squirmish and sullen for hours afterwards.

All the posers and hoes and dancers and prancers were one long stream of imaginary people she masturbated with while in her heart... he just stood there and waited for her to get off on him when the time came. He loved her... and loved that she loved things he could never touch. So they shared an intimacy on the dance floor that no one ever saw... and he fucked her stupid every time the foreplay ended.