I don’t remember what I said. I wish I did. I really wish I did. Whatever it was, I think it was in the odd category of noncommittal affirmative. Sort of an “if we did this, how would you want to do it,” thing. She said that she’d want to surprise him. I think she honestly thought I should jump out of a cake. No chance. We decided that the best thing would either be for me to flash him at the front door, a plan that involved me making my way through the London underground in a trench coat and lingerie, another non-starter; or for me to already be in the house in a state of semi-dress when they got home from “elsewhere.” Gail wanted desperately to spring it on him, and didn’t want to have to explain what she was asking for. She was going to tell Rich that his birthday present was waiting for him in the bedroom, and the candles were a sign it had been delivered. A half naked girl on their bed was supposed to be explanation enough.

So here I was. Candles lit, clothes off, pulling on white stockings and clipping them to a lacy garter belt. Why white? Gail’s choice. She’d obtained the outfit, and said she’d be wearing a matching one in red. Wince-worthy to me today, but at the time it seemed cute. White lace “why bother, these aren’t hiding anything” panties, with a matching demi-bra. Looking at myself in the mirror, I understood where the phrase “tits on a plate” came from. Nothing this tiny could offer the least bit of support to my then C cup tits. But bless young bodies, I didn’t really need much. I kept tugging the bra up. The damned thing barely came up over my nipples, and I was pretty sure a deep breath would pop me out altogether. I looked myself up and down, cursing my short legs. I never wore stockings to show off…I thought they made me look shorter. And certainly not white ones with sparkly bits up the legs! But Gail thought it’d contrast well with the black coverlet on the bed. Ah well. My legs may be short, but my body is long and curves in nicely at the waist before flaring back out at the hips. I was proud of my breasts, and more than a little vain about my tanned and toned tummy. Maybe white wasn’t such a silly idea after all, it made my skin look lovely. I let my hair down, fluffed it, fussed with it, and gave up on it. It always does its own thing. I took off my afternoon pink lipstick and put on something that should’ve been labelled “Fuck Me Red.” Vamped up my eye makeup, and then reached into my bag for the bit of costume even Gail didn’t know about….a yard and a half of two inch wide velvet ribbon. It was an impulse buy earlier in the day. I’d tied many a bow in the flower shop back home, and nothing says “birthday present” like a great big bow. It was tougher to do around my own neck and in the mirror…but I had time. Eventually, I was all decked out and ready for my debut. Which is when the butterflies really hit.

What the hell am I doing here? I silently demanded of my reflection. Which is when the little voice in the back of my head gave me the one piece of advice I became most grateful for. The answer simply came back: anything they want.

See, what had been worrying me was that Rich hadn’t been consulted on this one. He and Gail apparently had talked, in jest, about bringing playmates to bed. But not seriously, as far as I could tell. I didn’t want to be sent home, if for no other reason than that I would never be able to look Rich in the eye again. But I didn’t want him to be pressured into doing something he didn’t want to do. OK, there was a big dose of “what if he doesn’t want me” insecurity in there…but that wasn’t all of it. I didn’t want to be part of something that would up messing up their relationship. I knew Gail depended on Rich to be the level headed one in the relationship, to keep her crazy schemes from going too far. But we were doing everything in our power to unlevel his level head tonight…and if this turned out to be a mistake, who was going to stop it? But that message from the back of my head had given me my answer. Tonight, if I could manage it, was going to be about them. I was going to have one hell of a good time, and I was going to have a story I could tell forever, but I wanted this experience to bring them closer together…and I was going to do my damnedest to make sure that was what happened. I was going to do whatever they were comfortable with, and I was going to make sure I was doing it with both of them at all times.

Which is when the car horn blew…my signal that they were home and I was to get into position. No time for second thoughts. Oh please please don’t let him think I’m a tramp! God, don’t let her back out now. I curled up on the end of their bed, facing the door, my legs crossed under me and what I hoped down to my stockinged toes was a seductively playful smile on my face.

I heard the downstairs door close. I heard muffled voices on the stairs. I heard the front door open and close. I think I was holding my breath. I heard Rich’s deep voice ask “were we expecting candles?” and then I heard Gail’s voice talking, but I couldn’t make out the words. I didn’t hear anything for a moment, then Rich said something that included the words “sweet,” “love” and “plotting.” And then the bedroom door opened.