Sex Cave: SS’s International E-mail Sex Fantasy

0009Sweet 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,

I tried, I really did. But I could not think of a single person that I knew in some way who 1) Wouldn’t immediately recognize my voice in an email, and 2) Didn’t already know of my lustful feelings! I don’t want to shock you (what am I saying, of course I do), but when I have naughty ideas about someone, I tend to share them. I even confessed my elementary school crush to the boy in question…though that ended with me fleeing the classroom in embarrassment.

Sometimes I still get embarrassed (don’t laugh). Even at my most daring, a burst of self-consciousness has been known to trip me up. The most recent example of this occurred a couple of weeks ago, when my husband and I finally had the opportunity to go to a sex club. That sounds rather dirty, doesn’t it? It was actually a very elegant place, meant only for couples. My husband and I went for a quick sushi dinner around the corner before getting ready to visit the club, and I told him how nervous I was.

“What if I feel all weird and don’t like it?”

“Well, then we’ll know it’s not for us.”

“It’s the holidays, what if there’s hardly anybody there?”

“Maybe this is a good time to try it then.”

“What if there ARE a lot of people there?”

“Just eat your rolls.”

When we arrived at the club, an interesting thing happened: Suddenly I felt a wave of confidence and became surer of myself. I wonder if it’s because I realized this wasn’t an entirely new situation for me? (See all my recent exploits.) My husband, however, seemed to get hit with his own kind of nervousness, becoming tongue-tied and misunderstanding the woman who wanted him to step back from the heavy door so she could open it and let us in. It was sweet, actually. We gave her our coats, plus I had to give up my handbag as well, and then we went downstairs.

The “cave” feeling was very cozy, complete with gorgeous chandeliers, plush velvet seats, and ornate furniture and candelabras. The whole place had a luxurious feel, which helped put me at ease. The price included drinks, so I sat on a seat next to my husband while sipping my Kir and looking out onto an empty dance floor. We chatted for a bit, then I drank a little too fast and had to put my glass down; I didn’t want to spoil the night by getting tipsy two seconds in. We decided to explore.

To the right of the dance floor was a corridor, and we followed it past small alcoves until we came to a giant bed. We had seen glimpses of other couples while having our drinks, but they’d quickly disappeared. Clearly this is where they all had gone! A man and a woman were on the left side of the bed, and another man and a woman on the right. Each couple was doing their own thing, which seemed to revolve mainly around the woman lying there while the man thrust into her. I thought of a good friend of mine who’s gay and how boring she would find this. The thought made me smile.

We continued on, taking a peek in a mirrored room consisting entirely of a large, low bed, and, further down the corridor, a smallish, open room featuring seats on one side and a mini-dungeon on the other. We considered the full-sized “X”, complete with restraints built into it, but I felt I needed to work up to that. Would be interesting to try, though…

Retracing our steps, we made our way toward the mirrored room. My husband got on the bed and gestured for me to join him. I had caught another glimpse of the couples on the bed outside the room, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to join them or keep some distance between us. My husband and I cuddled up on the bed, leaving the door closed. I closed my eyes as well, as I found the endless reflections of us (me) too distracting.

He started kissing me, and I held him close and kissed him back. I took off my dress and shoes so that I was just in my black bra, black lace underwear, and black stockings. He remained fully clothed (apart from his shoes), which is just the way we like it. Then he took off my bra and slid his hands up and down the length of my body, slipping them into my underwear, making me wild. I writhed and moaned, and this got both of us excited.

Every so often I’d open my eyes, and at one point I noticed a woman looking through the small window that was on the same wall as the door. Even though we were on the corner of the bed closest to the wall, and therefore not easily seen through the window, I realized that the effect of the mirrors was to make us visible to whoever fancied a peek in. I decided to see what would happen if we left the door open—would anyone join us?

Not long after my husband opened the door, we became aware of a woman (was it the same one as before?) standing at the window, alternately watching our reflection in the mirrors and closing her eyes in pleasure. I realized someone must be directly behind her, and found myself aroused by the idea that we were somehow contributing to someone else’s enjoyment. My husband rubbed me more vigorously, and I tried to let myself go, both for my sake and the sake of the girl in the window! My wet pussy soaked the black lace, and my husband continued to use his fingers on me, to see how far I could go despite the inhibitions due to my nerves. I didn’t come, but I was certainly more relaxed.

Although we were enjoying ourselves in the mirrored room, I was curious to know what was happening on that giant bed outside. I put my clothes back on—wasn’t quite up to wandering around the place practically naked just yet—and out we went. We turned the corner…and the bed was empty. How disappointing! Something between a bed and an alcove was tucked away just across from the bed, and we both made ourselves comfortable on it. I leaned against my husband, trying to get used to being touched in full view of anyone who might happen to pass by. And people did pass by!

I curled around him, murmuring in his ear, “This is so weird—they’re looking at me!”

He replied, “Of course they are, my sexy girl.” We kissed, and I started getting wet again. Since I was facing him and not the other people there, I found it easier to keep going, and I stuck my bare ass out. Another couple stood near us, just beside the giant bed, and they kissed while we went at it. Soon they were on the bed, naked, and after that my husband took off his clothes, too.

“Oh, what is this?” I teased him.

“Well…” he said, and gestured to the other couple.

“Is that because of us?” I asked him.

“I think so.”

“Hmm…” I considered the idea that we were having an effect on them, and decided I liked it.

On the bed, the woman started sucking the man’s cock, and I was partly surprised to watch this activity so closely in person, and partly fascinated. I think it had something to do with how she was sucking him: He lay below her, and she was half sitting, half lying to his right. She leaned over, gently took him into her mouth, and slowly moved her head up and down. One hand held his cock while the other played with his balls. Every movement was slow and gentle, even how she flipped her hair out of the way. I have always found giving head to be quite difficult, it often upsets me and I have no idea why. When I saw the loving quality of what she was doing, it calmed me.

After this, she lifted herself over her partner, and he started rubbing her hard. His fingers were inside her, moving up and down furiously. Every so often he would look over at my husband and I, and I realized that, once again, we were influencing those around us. I couldn’t believe it! I almost laughed. No, I did laugh, and I remember that quite vividly now—any time I felt the urge to laugh, I did. That’s what had bothered me in the beginning, when I’d first seen those couples on the bed: There didn’t seem to be much joy in what they were doing. I don’t want to judge, as who am I to say how others should have sex, but it just didn’t look very appealing to me. Now, being more relaxed, I laughed when I wanted to laugh and moaned when I wanted to moan. I think this is what the people I’ve been exploring with lately have commented on, how my reactions have no bounds. I’m torn because I find the topic interesting, but I don’t want to think about it too much and risk feeling like I’m putting on a show.

Soon the other couple got dressed and went on their way, and my husband said he was pretty sure we were the only ones left. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. We dressed, went back upstairs, and the woman who’d opened the door to us gave us our coats (and my handbag). We went outside and waited in the doorway for our car, watching the rain pour down.

“Are you glad we did this?”

“Yeah, are you?”


That was two weeks ago. While writing this, I’ve been squirming in my seat, feeling aroused, wanting desperately to make myself come but unable to because I know you’re waiting for me to send you something, Mr. X! Let me know if you and your wife may be taking a trip to Paris in the future, we’d be happy to show you the club…


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