Sweet Soumise is an adventurous young woman living in Paris. She wrote in asking for a monthly dare, and here’s her response to her most recent experiment from Mr. X.
Dear Mr. X,
“Somebody’s got to come.” I’ve had this sentence in my head since you sent me your dare. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out how to make this happen. You know when it comes to a sexy challenge I’m always game, but this time I was up against some serious logistics!
I wanted to do this with my husband. My other partners have not been in the picture for some time now, but even if they had been, I expressly wanted to share a moment with the man who has been so open about my experimentation. Also, he has been gone for work a lot, and I just wanted some time with him. At first I considered meeting him at work for lunch (something I never do) and then finding a secluded place to seduce him before sending him back to his office! But he was too busy, and I wasn’t sure I could make this work in broad daylight with Parisians milling about everywhere, not to mention all the tourists. Though I suppose that would have given them a hell of a story to share back home!
Then, suddenly, a stroke of luck: Plans changed, and on a random Tuesday night just as the weather was finally turning spring-like, we went to see a film. I had looked up a couple of ideas, and wasn’t sure how he’d feel about seeing an old movie, but we went to a tiny little cinema in the 5th and saw Charade with Audrey Hepburn. Charade is a great film, really well written, and what a treat to see Paris in the ’60s! (Honestly, with the exception of the cars and the clothes, everything pretty much looks exactly the same.) If the film hadn’t been so wonderful I might have gotten up to shenanigans in the cinema, but come on, who am I, Peggy Olson?
I had been thinking over the course of the evening about where I could take my somewhat-suspecting husband (he knew I was up to no good thanks to your dare, but didn’t know the details). I thought that after the film we might have a short stroll to the Seine and take in the incomparable sight of the lights reflecting along the water. In Charade, there’s a scene at night where Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant are on a boat, and it shines a spotlight on the couples clutched in passionate embraces along the banks of the Seine. When I saw this I smiled; it was almost like I was watching my idea play out on screen.
Once the film ended, I marveled at the experience of walking along the streets of Paris after watching a movie where the characters had been walking in the exact same place. We arrived at the Seine after a few minutes and began to look for a staircase leading down. We were near St Michel, not far from a certain bookstore that featured in a previous dare. Instead of going in that direction, though, we went the opposite way, and followed the river until we came not to a staircase, but more of a little street. There was still a bit of the wall beside us as we made our way down, and I realized that this might be a better location than continuing all the way down to where it was more open. Since the wall was so low, we could easily see the Seine, but we were still slightly covered. It was dark save for a few lights casting long shadows. This was the place.
I stopped my husband and smiled. We came together and kissed, but I soon put a stop to that, too, so we could exchange places. We were standing on quite a slope, and I’m short enough as it is! Now he was standing on the lower part, which still didn’t make us even, but at least I no longer felt like I was going to break something just to plant one on him. It felt incredible to make time for this, just to stand here on a mild Paris night, kissing. I pulled back and smiled again. I gently cupped the bulge in his pants.
“So…,” I began, rubbing him steadily. I stood on my tiptoes and put my lips to his ear. “We’re staying here until something happens. It can be you or it can be me, it can be with whatever parts we want. But the idea is, ‘somebody’s got to come’.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you think?”
“Hmmm…,” he answered, a mischievous smile on his lips. His arms were around me, and he held me tightly.
“I know the obvious idea is me, but it doesn’t have to be that way,” I said. It was obvious because not only does he consider me to be quite naughty—as if he isn’t right there with me!—but I wasn’t sure how comfortable he would be with the idea of being exposed. I was still rubbing him as I looked at him suggestively. “Remember, we can do it however we want.”
He considered this, and then drew me even closer. His hand slid down until he was rubbing me through my clothes. I closed my eyes and tried to forget about just how strange it felt to be doing this standing up, outside. He moved his hand faster and faster, but I told him to wait. I took his arm and slowly guided it beneath the fabric of my jeans. His hand was pushing against me through just my underwear now, and I could feel his fingers much better. He circled his other arm around me and I held on tight, first unzipping his jacket so I could get my arms around him properly. I was gripping him, he was gripping me…and then I moaned out loud.
Hearing the sound of my own voice made me aware of the other voices I could hear coming from the other side of the Seine. I knew it was the group of people that had been talking and laughing when we’d arrived. They were far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to see (or hear) us clearly, but from our movements they could surely make out what we were doing if they looked across the water. My husband slipped his fingers beneath my underwear, and I stopped caring what anyone could see. As he touched me, my eyes traveled up to the white clouds spread out before the dark blue of the night sky. He was rubbing me vigorously, and I clasped my hands around him, alternately kissing him and moaning. It was difficult to keep my balance! I didn’t come, but there was a sort of pulsing, a pleasurable sensation that was fun for both of us. I continued to writhe against him, my head buried in his chest, and then we paused for breath.
I lifted my head in time to see a man walking by below us, along the Seine. I knew he’d soon be rounding the corner to where we were, and I hesitated. What if he’d heard me moan? The man walked past us, adjusting his earphones, heading up towards the street above. I couldn’t tell if I was more excited or embarrassed. I began to laugh, a lone, loud sound reverberating against the cobblestones.
“We could continue that way,” my husband suggested a couple of minutes later. For a moment I didn’t know what he meant, then I realized that clearly he thought we were done fooling around.
“But the metro’s just over there,” I pointed behind him.
“Yeah, that’s true….”
“Also,” I said, cutting him off, “I want to try again.” I gave him a saucy grin. “If you can.”
In seconds we were back in the same position as before, my lips on his neck while his fingers pressed against me, playing with my clit as I enjoyably squirmed in agony. He leaned even closer and whispered in my ear, “Come for me.” I pushed myself against him, barely able to keep my feet on the ground, willing myself to give into the feeling building up where his fingers were busy stroking me. Motorcycles were going by above us, the group of people across the Seine were still talking and laughing, and the clouds had changed their positions in the night sky as I looked up over his shoulder. The pulsing sensation reached its peak, and I gasped as I clutched my husband. I came, and it was in such a small way I’m not sure he could tell whether I had or not. It may have been small, but the enjoyment of it filled me, and I let out a contented sigh.
He gently removed his arm from where it had been hidden beneath my clothes, and I smiled at him again. “I’m glad we did this.”
He smiled back. “Me, too.” Then he added, “Naughty girl.”
“Right, you had nothing to do with it.”
“No, me, never.”
We walked to the metro holding hands. It had all happened as I’d hoped, under a night sky, exposed yet hidden, the excitement of the dare pushing us to experiment but never feeling like we had to do things a certain way or else we’d fail. As we crossed the street I felt light. Thank you for the push, Mr. X. We needed a bit of fun. Like with the sex club of the previous dare, I think we’ll be experimenting more in this direction!
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