“Why are you dressed in leaves?” he asked as she came out to pose. He had been completely engrossed in the game and looked confused.
“It’s Poison Ivy,” she replied with a “duh” look on her face.
“What? Why are you wearing poison ivy? Are you insane?” Then he looked at the outfit more closely. “That’s not poison ivy.”
“You don’t really think I’m dumb enough to put poison ivy on my body, do you?”
“But you said…”
“Poison Ivy. From DC? The costume party tomorrow?”
Understanding flooded his face. “Duh.”
“So what do you think?”
“I think that everyone at the party is going to be turned on and/or envious if you wear that to the party. Like, fuck, woman, you look hot.”
She smiled. “You think so?” She strutted to stand in front of him.
“I know so.” He reached up to stroke her thigh. “Do we have to go to the party tomorrow night?”
“It’s your company party,” she laughed. “I think you need to be there.”
“It is, isn’t it,” he paused. She knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Too much?” she asked.
“Maybe, a little,” he squirmed.
She giggled. “Good thing I got another version of this that has a bit more cloth. But I thought maybe you’d like this one a little more for tonight. That is if the game is over.”
“What game?” he asked as he turned off the TV. “I’m feeling a little itchy, anyway. Do you think it’s poison ivy?”
“You never know. Maybe we can do a little scratching of each other’s itch.” She moved just outside of his reach, teasing. “Mine first though.”
2 thoughts on “P is for Poison”
That must have been some costume. I’m sure it was a hit at the party 😉
Great story 🙂
Thank you,! 😊