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Halloween at the Fairgrounds

Years ago, when my wife and I were under-inhibited and over-sexed, we enjoyed naughty thrills from getting away with sexually charged “play” beyond the bedroom, beyond the house, and beyond norms. I was generally the architect of our shenanigans; she was generally the focus. She was a go-along kind of gal, wagging her finger at me for the compromising situations I would get her into, but clearly enjoying the flush of arousal that inevitably rose in her in those scenarios.

One year, with Hallowe’en approaching, I learned of a huge “haunted adventure ” being set up at a local fairground. It was in many respects like a “county fair”, but after dark, with many Hallowe’en-themed exhibits and activities as well as the typical fair fare – a music stage, food, etc. It got my imagination going. I showed her the ad, which included a restruction to ages 21+.

“Babe, I think this could be fun …”

“You want to costume up?”

“Well … sort of.”

She looked at me with that smile of suspicion she gives me sensing that I had a hidden agenda.

“Sort of … ?”

“Yeah … I’m actually think less about costuming up than I am about costuming down.”

“Go on …”

“Everything is going to be dark and black, so I was thinking of wearing my black jeans and black T-shirt, and you could wear your flowy black hooded cape.”

“Ok …” she said with a note of suspicion still in her voice.

“That is … *only* … your black hooded cape.”

“*There* it is …” she said with her signature playful glare, silently saying … the things I put up with!

We had done this kind of thing before at “adult” Hallowe’en parties, so she was familiar with what I was proposing, but the idea of going into such public situation wearing only the cape – which closes only with a simple string tie at the neck – had her protesting. I playfully chided her for her reluctance, assuring her that she would be able to hold it closed with no one being the wiser. And … if it would help settle her nerves, we could both wear masks.

I persuaded her to at least try out the idea. So we went back to our bedroom and dug out the cape. She stripped and put it on, tied the neck and clutched it closed. I had her move around in front of the bathroom mirror to see how it moved, especially to see if it would gap open dangerously or keep together. As usually happens, at moments like this, she realized that I was right … even moving around, holding it closed from the inside, there could be normal-looking flashes of leg now and then, but there was nothing “dangerous” about it.

I left at the mirror for a moment and returned with her standard black date-night heels. She looked at me with disbelief …

“You want me to wear high heels at the fairgrounds???”

“Just put them on … you’ll see.”

With an air of protest, she slipped into them and stood there slightly defiant.

“Now … take a bit of the cape in each hand and put your arms around me … look in the mirror.”

She looked at us standing close, both of us wrapped up in her cape. The defiant look dropped away as she took in the look.

“Keep your arms there …”

I reached down and unzipped my pants, pulling out my cock which had firmed up in anticipation. Her eyes leapt wide open …

“OH – MY – GOD! You’re going to fuck me in public at the fairgrounds???”

“Not in public, we have portable privacy … look in the mirror … no one can see what we’re doing …”

I slipped my cock between her lips, stroking her clit … she was wet.

“And THIS is why you need to wear those heels … ”

I slipped inside her, slowly stroking as her wetness grew.

“You see, we need the extra height so that we line up correctly.”

“Oh – my – god …”

Her protests faded as she accepted her fate … leaned into my shoulders … and shuddered.

That was about a week ahead of Hallowe’en weekend. We picked our night and had amazing sex every day leading up to it. While she was getting ready to go, I put her cape and heels in the car, along with a couple of very basic “bandit” type black masks for a little anonymity. As usual on date night, she was puttering around the bathroom naked, fixing her hair and makeup, checking the smoothness of her hairless vulva. Finally, she turned to me, let out a nervous sigh …

“Ok, I’m ready.”

We have a date night tradition. I pre-position her attire in the car – this time her cape, heels, and our masks. When she is ready to go, she leaves with me by the front door barefoot and naked. Like the gentleman that I am, I escort her down the front walk to the car, and we get the night going with some deep kisses as I let my hands roam her skin. Then we’re off. The end of date night largely plays out in reverse, except that I’m fond of fucking her nude over the hood of our car before heading into the house. Somehow, we’ve never been caught in the act. (These days our neighbors have Ring cameras, so that has had to stop.)

On our way out for a date, she remains naked in the car as I enjoy stroking her skin along the way. As we approach our destination, she’ll don her night’s outfit – usually something quite small and revealing – on this night, the cape was her clothing, and ironically, not revealing if handled right. As we turned into the fairgrounds, she pulled it around her and tied the string closure at her neck. We parked a little far from the entrance, so she walked barefoot across the lot and saved the heels for later.

We paid our fee and walked to the official entrance, where we encountered a surprise: Security was doing pat-downs to check for contraband such as weapons – much like the TSA. There was a man stationed to pat down the men and a woman to pat down the women. We looked at each other. She took a big beath and sighed.

My guy: “Can you hold your arms out, sir?” Sure … pat-pat-pat … done.

Her gal: “Can you hold your arms out, ma’am?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t.”

“I just need to …”

“I know … I’m … not adequately dressed under here.”

“But …”

“I’m naked.”

“Oh … umm … I guess I can pat you down over the outside of the cape …”

“That would be fine.”

The several security people darted looks at each other as the gal rather tentatively pressed the cape to my wife’s body, the look on her face reflecting her awareness that she was feeling my wife’s nakedness under the flimsy fabric. She took longer than one might expect, not out of any prurience or lingering, but out of the awkwardness of not being sure how to “handle” the situation. But she did her duty …

“Ok.”

“I can go in?”

“Yes.”

We walked into the fairgrounds proper, biting our lips and casting sideways glances at each other. She mounted her heels finally. On other occasions I would hold her hand to help steady her, but that would mean letting the cape fall open, which could not be done here. We donned our masks, took some deep breaths, and walked around for a while, letting the nerves settle and taking in the sights.

We avoided the bright lights, looking instead for shadows and dark corners that would be friendly to our designs. There were a couple of “haunted house” set ups. The second was better for our purposes, having a couple of particularly dark “U” turns with no illuminated exhibits. Mental note for later.

We came across a makeshift bar with beer in red solo cups – I thought it might help her nerves to get some beer into her. I parked her at a small stand-up table in a dark corner of the place while I fetched the beers. She stood with her back to the room while I stood across from her in the corner. She had to let the cape open a bit to handle her solo cup. I smiled over the top of my cup as one of her breasts peeked out. She caught me looking and gave me one of those “naughty boy” looks. I finger gestured for her to show me both breasts. At first she subtly shook her head “no”, but then looking over each shoulder she coyly let the upper part of the cape fall open showing both breasts to me and the empty corner behind me. The beer was working.

I finished mine first. I motioned her to come around to the side of the table, still with her back to the room, and gestured for her to let the cape fall open. Again, she looked over both shoulders and complied, giving me unobstructed full-frontal view of her nudity. But a wave of nerves hit her again and she quickly clutched it closed with one hand while nursing her solo cup with the other, allowing just a peek of one nipple.

“Come closer.”

She took a step closer, close enough for me to touch her.

“Let it open.”

She again darted looks.

“Don’t worry – I got you. Nobody’s paying attention and no one will unless you telegraph that something’s going on … just relax.”

So, she took a breath and let the cape fall open. I reached out and touched her, brushing the underside of one breast with the backs of my fingers, then let them slide down to brush her hairless pussy the same way. She jerked nervously but did not pull away. Slowly, so as not to startle her, I turned my hand over and cupped her pussy, letting my middle finger dip slightly testing her wetness. Our eyes locked, I brought my finger to my mouth, tasting.

“Mmmm … it seems that you are ready.”

She finished her beer with a gulp and clutched her cape closed again.

We worked our way back to the haunted houses and that “U” turn I had noted earlier. We settled in rather as we had at the bar, with my back in the curve of the U and her facing me.

“There will probably be some people coming through now and then. I want you to be very obvious about kissing me – that will distract them and maybe embarrass them so that they will “move along”. Besides that, hold your position to help block anyone’s view. Don’t look over your shoulders, just focus on me. Ok?”

She nodded and kissed me.

“Now, unzip me and pull my cock out … that’s it …”

I pulled her closer, her naked body pressed against me, my firming cock getting coated with her wetness. Her heels showed their worth here. We continued kissing as she guided me into her pussy. Neither of us was going to last very long after a week of anticipation sex and a night of continuous foreplay. We kept our movements subtle while wetting our faces with unrelenting French kisses. A few people did pass by. Couples. Guys watching, the girls pulling them along. Traffic seemed slow – good.

We have had lots of public and semi-public exhibitionistic sex, often leaning up against our car in some parking lot or side street. She wears something extremely tiny or at least easy to rip off. As we fuck against the car and I reach the critical point, I give her the word and she pulls off her dress so that she’s completely naked as we finish. Very hot, even when it’s cold. Something similar happened here.

I was nearing that critical moment but needed a slightly better angle. I reached down and pulled her left leg over might arm tilting her hip a bit so that I could really pound her. Then with my left, I reached up and pushed the cape off of her shoulders and pulled it to the side. Anyone coming in at that moment would have seen us fucking with her completely naked. I pumped her full of cum and while still coupled and throbbing, quickly reset the cape on her shoulders.

We were both still breathing heavily, my cock still in her hands, when a couple more visitors came through, looking at us a little oddly. I tucked myself away and we moved on.

Time to go. We walked out and she kicked off the heels and walked barefoot across the parking lot. At the car, I tossed our masks and her heels into the back, then untied the cape’s string closure letting it fall away and put it in the car also. We leaned into each other in the cool night, not completely oblivious, but nearly. It never ceases to thrill and amaze me how it sometimes means more to her to be wrapped in my arms completely naked than to be wrapped in mere clothes.