"I finally figured out what I want for my birthday," Carla said to me one day.
She had that 'sly, I'm up to something' look on her face.
"Yes?" I said, noncommittally.
"I want to fuck in public."
"Really?" She hadn't said she wanted to fuck ME in public, so I wasn't getting on board with this idea right away.
"Yes, I want you to make love to me in a crowded place," she said, then suddenly defensive, "You said I could ask for anything."
"Why do you want to?" I asked, secretly thrilled by the idea.
"It's something I've never done, and it sounds exciting," she said with that wide eyed look she displayed when she was exploring.
"Yes, it does, doesn't it," I said, breaking into a smile finally.
"You'll do it then?" she urged, a little shocked.
"Yes. But it will require planning. We don't want to get arrested."
"Of course. We'll be extra careful," she agreed, and then brightly, "Thanks, Babe, that's the nicest present I ever got," and gave me a big kiss.
We took our time in the planning stage. Anticipation is half the fun, after all. Location, time of day, wardrobe, venue, transportation, type of sex; we considered all aspects and discussed everything about her 'present' over dinner every night for a week. We visited places we thought might work for us, took photos and made drawings; it was like a mini D-Day invasion but with risquΓ© jokes and laughter. Most of the time she got so excited talking about it that she wanted to have sex right away. Of course, I couldn't refuse; it was her birthday, after all. What fun!
At last the day of her 'present' arrived. She took hours getting ready in the bathroom and the bedroom. Apparently getting ready to go have sex in public entails making a number of phone calls, also. I didn't ask to who. Finally she presented herself for inspection. Her rhinestone jewelry, long auburn hair, and fuck-me makeup was flawless. She really was a stunningly good looking girl.
Her choice of clothing was carefully pre-chosen for the occasion. She twirled around and lifted her skirt so I could see. What I saw first, of course, was no panties at all instead of the open crotch type; good, one less thing to go wrong. Pantyhose were out, so a lacy garter belt and black stockings, very nice. A short black skirt topped with a brocaded, deep blue blouse, so as to blend with the dark atmosphere of the club; check and check. Tiny bottle of lube; check. Wet wipes; check. And most importantly, her highest black heels. She was just about my height, and with her high heels on to help tilt her butt upward, her pussy was just far enough above my dick to make our planned rear entry position feasible without her needing to lean forward. We knew this of course because we had already tried it here at home. Overall outfit rating: excellent! The girl had her shit together.
She insisted on giving me a blowjob before we left for the club. I asked her if she was sure she didn't want to save me for the main event, but she said that she didn't want me to finish too quickly from 'the thrill of the strange'. Ha!
The hostess at the club seated us against the back wall on a low platform that held just five tables, just where I had asked for. She noticed that we were overdressed and she asked if we were celebrating anything. Carla told her 'birthday' and she wished us a pleasant evening. We were in the corner on two high padded stools, with a small round table in front of us. The platform had a knee-wall running across at the step, giving us quite a bit of privacy actually. There were people in front of us and two tables away from us on the platform, but no one behind us or beside us. It was dark and loud. The only light came from the strobes and the stage spots on the rock group way down in front. They were already playing and a lot of people were standing up and dancing down in front and even at some of the tables. It was organized chaos: just what the doctor ordered!