Friday, being Halloween, Doc and I had a rousing evening planned, watching a bit of TV and handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters. Doc pulled out his wizard's hat and I bought a purple and black witch's hat and we had a wonderful time.
The first group of kids started showing up mid-dinner. Doc and I alternated between answering the door. When the fifth group of children arrived, they asked, "How many can we have?" I told them, "Take what you'd like," anticipating that good manners would dictate restraint. Three children quickly emptied the candy dish of what had moments before been nearly four bags of fun-sized candy bars. Well, okay then.
We refilled the dish and when the next group asked how many they could have, I told them they could have one or two of each kind. I wanted to tell them, "Please demonstrate a culturally appropriate level of restraint in your choices, acknowledging that more children are certain to arrive," but I was sure they'd just stare blankly at me.
Two a piece it became.
And it was a LOT of fun.
I thought I was going to get a completely free pass this year and I was stoked!
You see, I was assaulted on Halloween by a stranger some years ago. This does not factor into my daily lived experience. I get a little jumpy during the month of October, and while I've been a bit anxious this month, recognizing early on what was happening has largely short-circuited my PTSD response. This is awesome.
I thought I was going to get a completely free pass this year.
Still, I brought my oldest stuffed animal with me - a stuffed raccoon I've had since I was six.
I thought I would get a free pass this year.
And then the last group of trick-or-treaters arrived. They were older boys, on the verge of manhood. The could have been in high school or even early college. And they were aggressive.
They opened the storm door to its widest point, they leaned into my personal space. As I leaned back slightly, they leaned into the foyer, their chests entering our home as they leaned past and around me. "What did you have for dinner?" one asked.
I panicked. I was terrified. I knew that I could call for Doc and he'd come immediately. But I didn't know if my level of anxiety was related to this being Halloween, or the really creepy mask one of the boys/men was wearing, or if there was a legitimate threat as they leaned into my personal space and our sanctuary.
"We had spaghetti for dinner," I responded, trying to keep it light.
"Do you have any left?" the one to my left asked, leaning farther in and bouncy on the balls of his feet.
"Sorry, no," I laughed nervously, just wanting them to leave. "Happy Halloween." I started to pull back and close the front door." But they wouldn't leave. They just stayed half-way in the house, half-way out, leaning their torsos over the threshold. They reached out and everything in me screamed to just drop the candy dish and run to Doc.
They grabbed more candy and once their hands were free of the entry door, I closed it tight and headed back to the living room, not even bothering to check that they were gone.
I curled up against Doc and rested in the safety of his embrace while we watched TV. When the show we'd been watching ended, I turned off the outside lights, closed the shades over the sidelight and locked the front door. It was late enough that we did not expect more trick-or-treaters.
Doc and I retired for the evening. Teeth brushed, I lay in bed naked awaiting him.
When he came to bed, he kissed me, touched me, stroked my legs, breasts, genitals. He stroked my hair. I smiled. I smiled the whole we embraced and kissed and touched. I smiled because I felt connected and safe and good. I smiled because I really believed I'd gotten a free pass this year.
Doc entered me and I smiled and kissed him and touched him.
Doc touched my hair at the nape of my neck.
"Please! Don't! Stop! Not that. Please, don't pull my hair," I begged as panic came swift and intense.
I would not get a free pass this year.
Doc stopped immediately. He took his hand from my hair. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern deep in his voice.
"Yes," I said. "You can continue. Just...please...please do not pull my hair."
Doc continued and did not touch my hair again.
"Is it okay if I turn you over?" he asked.
"Ummm.....let me think about it," I said, still feeling unsure of myself. I was so afraid if I couldn't see him I wouldn't be able to stay connected to the fact that I was with him. I said his name over and over and over and over in my mind. "I'm with Doc. This is Doc. I'm safe with Doc," I told myself. When I had calmed myself enough to feel present in the moment again, I told Doc he was more than welcome to turn me over, so long as he didn't touch my hair.
"It's okay," he said. "We can stay like this."
"No, really," I told him, wanting to make sure his needs were met and knowing I could be okay now. "We can change positions."
"It's okay," he said again. "I'm happy to stay like this."
And it was wonderful.
Then, Doc said, "You can get your witch's hat and wear it if it'll help."
I laughed. I laughed and I laughed and I had a hard time not giggling. "Just you saying that made everything perfect," I told him.
"I'm serious," he said. "You can get it if you want!" And he was serious. It would not have bothered him a bit.
But I love being beneath him, his body moving over mine, his arms around, my legs around his waist, stroking his shoulders, back, and buttocks while he fucks. My witch's hat was in the other room, and I did not want to stop for a moment, let alone move from beneath him and leave our bed to retrieve it.
Next weekend, though, I'm definitely wearing the hat.
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