I was dressed as Madonna that Halloween. You know the costume: a cut-up, over-the-top ‘80s wedding dress, fishnets, jelly bracelets, veil. It’s easy, trashy and sexy without getting too naked.

For some reason, the guy I was fucking at the time was obsessed with this costume. “Did you have a crush on Madonna when you were a kid, or what?” I asked him, laughing, as he panted over me while I dressed.

“Pal, I don’t know, but something about this outfit is making me crazy.”“It’s gonna be a pretty long party then,” I teased, flashing the white lacy panties and matching garter belt at him. “Just so you know what’s under this dress.”

“God dammit,” he moaned. “I hate you.”

We arrived at the party and immediately headed for the alcohol, which was located in my friend's kitchen. After a glass or two of some kind of punch with Everclear that she served, the two of us were on a roll. Girls in revealing costumes were running around the party trying to get guys. There were people everywhere; it was like the Halloween party in Mean Girls.

My friend leaned over to me and whispered: “Tell me again what you're wearing under your dress?” I smiled. “Oh, just this white garter belt-all lace,matching corset. Oh, and little white lace panties. Which we mustn't forget.” He grabbed me and pressed me against him, so I could feel him getting hard. “Did I tell you they have a split crotch?”

Boy groaned. “You wouldn’t.”

“I did.”

That’s all it took. We found a quiet corner in the house, mostly secluded from the action with just a few costumed acquaintances wandering in and out, and in a flash his hands were exploring the mechanics of my panties while I sipped champagne. “You’re such a tease,” he murmured, sliding a finger through the split to play with me, stroking the wetness he’d found, swirling circles around my clit.“I just wanted to make this a Halloween to remember,” I replied, laughing between the little waves of pleasure. “And to ensure you’ll get a boner every time you see Madonna from now on.”