Last Night in Paris

It was the last night of our vacation.  Tomorrow morning my husband and I would get up and make our way to the Charles de Gaulle airport to catch our flight home.  Back home to family, work, school, runs to the grocery store, trips to the vet and doctor, and the upcoming holidays with all that stress.  Back to vanilla life.  It had been a magical trip.  It had been just the two of us galavanting across Europe for three weeks.  Waking up in each other’s arms, enjoying each other’s bodies until we were both gasping, and long talks about our new kinky lifestyle.  Discussions about how we want me to have my pick of partners, for me to have bigger and better cocks than what he could offer. This was our final evening of freedom.  Our final chance to live out the fantasy of having some hotwife fun in Paris.  

It started when we went for dinner and drinks at a sports bar attached to a hostel.  We specifically picked that place in hopes of finding a nice, young traveling man who would be up for a night of fun with a sexy married woman.  We got a four top table and ordered drinks and food.  Like most places in Paris, an open seat is an invitation to join.  After a while we were joined by a young French man about thirty years old, whom I will refer to as T.  He had a scruffy goat-tee, tousled black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a devilish smile.  At our confirmation that the seats were open, he chose the seat next to me.  He was supposed to meet some friends to watch a soccer game, but they couldn’t make it.  We happily chatted with him through our dinner.  Hubby let me do most of the talking and all of the flirting.  T politely asked about our travels and looked at some pictures.  He was friendly, warm, and funny.  The bar was quite loud, and naturally, we had to lean toward each other in order to be heard and view my photos.  I could smell the clean scent of his skin with a hint of cologne.  I enjoyed feeling my husband’s eyes on me as I flirted and teased my new friend.  He could see the sparks flying between the two of us and knew that if something was going to happen, that he would need to provide me with an opportunity.  After my husband’s subtle attempt to give us an opportunity by a trip to the restroom, he not so subtly downed the rest of his beer and told us that he was going to head back to the hotel.  Hubby told me to stay and finish my drink and that he would see me later.  He kissed me and whispered that he would send me a text.  A few minutes later, hubs sent me a text to let me know that he was waiting outside, and he would either discreetly follow us back to the hotel or walk back with me if I didn’t have company.  

As I sipped my drink, T remarked that it was interesting that my husband would leave me alone in a bar with a stranger.  The way T said husband was more of a question, because up until that moment we hadn’t specifically said we were married.  We had toyed with the idea of not telling whoever I met on the off chance that it might scare them off from playing.  But when T looked into my eyes, I knew that I would be doing him, myself, and the relationship I have with my husband a disservice by lying.  For me it would taint the experience, by portraying the loving ethically non-monogamous relationship I have with my husband as dishonest, sneaking, and cheating.  So instead I told him that my relationship with my husband was unique and that he is an incredibly generous man.  He asked what I meant by that.  Then I asked him if he had ever heard of a hotwife.  He said no, and I informed him that in a hotwife relationship, I am free to do what I want with any man that I’m interested in outside of my marriage because it turns us both on.  

T said “so are you interested in me?”  

I said, “why do you think I’ve been flirting with you most of the night?”  

He said “oh really? What does that mean if I’m interested in you too?”  

I said, “It means that if you want to kiss me you can.”  

He said, “do you want me to kiss you?”  

I said “yes”  He leaned in and gave me a shy but very sweet kiss.  

T asked me: “What else does it mean?”

I said: “I said it means you can rub your hands on my leg.” T took the hint.

“It means that you can fuck me if you want.”

T said “do you want me to fuck you?”  

I said, “yes I do, very much.”  

He said, “Now?”  

I smiled at hime and said, “Well, when I finish my drink.”  

He said, “Well drink up!” 

T downed his drink, and I laughed at his eagerness. I could tell he was feeling more confident that I meant what I said, when he put his hand on my leg, and I started rubbing his hand and encouraging him to go higher.  I finished my beer, and got my phone to tell hubs I was heading back to the hotel….with company.

We gathered our belongings and started walking back to the hotel hand in hand.  I could feel butterflies in my stomach.  My mind was whirling from the excitement, and I had to focus to remember where my hotel was!  His hand was warm and firm in mind, and I caught him stealing glances and smiling at me out of the corner of my eye.  As we were walking a homeless man approached us for a handout.  We brushed him off, intent on our goal, and he yelled something in French after us that made T laugh.  I asked him what the man said, and he said “He said’“enjoy having sex.’ Do you think he could tell?”  I laughed and said, “probably.”  Then I stopped him and pulled him in for a deep kiss right there.  “He definitely knows now,” I said.

We walked quickly to the hotel, and I could feel myself getting wet at the thought that he would soon be inside me.  We walked through the small lobby and I nodded to the other guests and the receptionist as we walked to the stairs.  The room we had was small, only enough room for a bed, a small desk, and the adjoining bathroom.  It had a window overlooking an inner courtyard, and I had discovered earlier that you could access the courtyard from the lobby of the hotel.  There were chairs out there for anyone who wanted to smoke.  Sounds from the windows in the rooms above would cascade down to whoever was sitting there.  I made sure to leave our window partially open.

We closed the door, and after shedding our jackets, we started kissing again. After a lingering kiss I broke it off as it was growing late and I knew he had to catch the last train. I told him we should probably get undressed as I retrieved some condoms and started undressing myself while watching him out of the corner of my eye.  He was nervous and a little shy, but he followed my lead in shedding his clothes.  I was faster.  I crawled across the bed in just my thong and told him that I wanted to taste him.  I pulled his underwear off, and his cock sprung forward.  It was thick and longer than my husband’s, and I was thrilled.  I had picked up a young, sexy, and hung Frenchman, and I intended to enjoy every inch of him.  I swirled my tongue around the tip and gripped the base to hold him steady.  I licked him from base to tip.  I loved listening to the sounds of his sharp intake of breath and slight guttural moans when I sucked him all the way down my throat.  I asked him if he would be willing to let me take a few pictures for my husband, and he agreed.  So I texted my husband some pictures of me obviously enjoying this cock.  Then I put down my phone and went to work.  Lick, suck, swirl, repeat.  I loved feeling him grow even harder in my mouth and the taste of his pre-cum.  I liked fondling his balls while I tried to take as much of him down my throat.  I was enjoying listening to his breath change and the slight guttural noises of pleasure that he was making.  I was feeling this great sense of power knowing that I was giving this younger guy an amazing night.

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I kissed my way back up his body to his mouth and told him that I wanted him to fuck me.  I grabbed a condom and put it on him with my mouth. I lay back on the bed and told him that I wanted him to help get me wet first. So he went down on me.  I could feel his warm breath on my pussy, his hands holding my thighs apart as he lowered his mouth to my clit. I could see the open window over his shoulders, and I could feel how soft his dark hair was as I ran my fingers through it.  His tongue felt soft and wet and wonderful on my clit making me gasp and grow even wetter.  But I was impatient, and we didn’t have much time so I told him that I wanted his cock inside me now.  I love to spread my legs and feel a new man climb between them and lower his body to mine. I love feeling the first thrust of a new cock.  I shivered in anticipation of this feeling as T lowered his warm body to mine.  I slid my hands around his waist and raised my lips to his.  He kissed me deeply as he thrust all the way into me slowly.  I had been fucking my husband regularly on this trip, and I could immediately feel the difference.  The contrast between their two bodies just made it even hotter.  His cock filled me up and reached places in me that my husband can’t.  

He fucked me slowly at first and then increased the pace until he had me moaning and gasping.  I was turned on knowing that anyone who was outside in the courtyard could probably hear the unmistakable sounds of sex wafting down.  I wrapped my legs around him trying to pull him in deeper.  I slid my hands down to his ass so I could feel him flex as he thrust harder into me.  He sat up and fucked me with my legs on his shoulders.  He felt amazing and had me cumming on his cock in no time.  I was moaning and gasping as we kept fucking.  He flipped me over and fucked me from behind, grabbing my hips and slamming into me.  

After about 40 minutes I wanted him on top of me again. I remember the warmth of his skin, the way his hands pushed my legs up as he pounded my pussy and my voice moaning and urging him on.  I wondered how many people in that hotel could hear us.  He told me that he was getting close and asked me where I wanted it.  I looked him in the eyes and told him to “cum deep inside my married pussy.”  My words sent him over the edge, and he gasped and shuddered his orgasm.  I pulled him in deeper and milked his cock with my pussy.  

After our breathing returned to normal, he pulled out, careful to keep the condom on, and started to go clean himself up.  I sat up and drank some water and checked the time.  He was going to have to leave soon.  I told him that I wished he could stay for round two, but he needed to catch his train, and I had an early flight.  He kissed me again and laughed and said if things were different he would have stayed all night having sex with me.  I asked him if anything like this had ever happened to him before, being picked up in a bar for sex, and he said never but that he had fantasized about it.  He had read about this but never expected to experience it.  I told him that he did very well for someone that was new.  I helped him get dressed and threw on some clothes to walk him out.  We shared one last long kiss in the lobby, and I went back upstairs with the mildly bewildered and amused faces of the other guests in the lobby following me.  I had looked for my husband in the lobby but didn’t see him.  I had every intention of walking right up to him and kissing him in front of everyone, so they would know that I had just cucked him with a man ten years younger.  I went back upstairs and texted him that T had left, and he needed to taste and smell another man on his wife’s skin.  

My husband came upstairs right away, and I had started to get ready for bed and began to fill in the story from his point of view. He had followed us back to the hotel and paused in the lobby. He got curious and climbed the stairs to our floor and could hear us before the top of the stairs. He stayed on the landing long enough to become aroused, but as he didn’t want to appear as a creepy dude hanging in the stairs listening to people fuck, he went downstairs and again sat in the lobby.  Unable to settle to anything, he grabbed a book and pretended to read while his mind was racing and his heart was pumping with adrenaline at the thought that the man he had just left his wife with at the bar was now upstairs buried inside her.  Hubs remembered the courtyard and decided to “read his book” out there.  With the open window, he could hear the sounds of my ecstacy floating down to him. He knows me so well he can almost tell what sexual position I am in by the sounds I make.

I lay back on the freshly fucked sheets and let my husband bury his tongue in my pussy while I relived the evening for him. In between licks he asked me if T was bigger and if T could fuck me in ways that he can’t.  Every time I said yes, he would lick and suck with more enthusiasm and moaning, turning us both on.  Then he fucked me gently and slowly, feeling how loose and stretched my pussy was from T’s cock.  We loved having that moment of reaffirmation.

Finally, reality reminded us that we really did have a plane to catch the next day.  We started packing up our things, and I found that T had left his scarf.  I texted him that I had it and asked him if he wanted me to mail it to him.  T very generously told me to keep it as a souvenir of our time together.  I wore it the entire plane ride home and enjoyed the smell of him coming from the scarf the whole time.  It’s currently hanging in the closet, and it’s my favorite scarf.  

Our last night in Paris was full of surprises and meaning for all three of us.  We loved enjoying the spontaneity of the moment, and the thrill of the unexpected.  We had a chance to explore and live out a fantasy. But what I found out later was how much meaning that evening held for T.  

After we returned home and our lives went back to normal, I reached out to T to thank him for the amazing night and get permission to write about it in case I ever published a blog.  He was flattered that I would want to tell this story, and thanked me for an amazing night.  I am always curious about what goes on in the minds of the men I engage with sexually, and I asked him to share what went through his mind that evening. I found out that he had been in a relationship for 10 years which had ended badly only 10 days prior to our meeting.  A relationship that in his words left him with “little scars and scared of being single.”  He told me that when I picked him up, it was like life telling him that he still had things to explore and that women can still desire him.  He told me that my confidence and knowing what I wanted and taking the lead from the moment our clothes came off made everything relaxed and not stressful.  He had never experienced a sexually empowered woman who knew her body and was confident in what she wanted.  Then he told me that for him this would be a memory that he would keep for his entire life.  “The day I die, I will still smile at it.”  

This lifestyle can be so difficult and challenging.  It can often break or bruise many couples.  But it can also be incredibly rewarding and yield so many positives.  Non-monogamous relationships can be healing and fulfilling in so many ways when it is practiced ethically and consensually.  I think the same can be said for the individual sexual encounters we have.  My husband and I walked into that bar with a bucket list fantasy we wanted to try.  T walked into that bar not sure how he would move forward with his life after his breakup.  At the end of the night, he walked out of my hotel room knowing that he was incredibly sexually desirable.  We walked away with a long imagined fantasy finally checked off our bucket list.  All three of us came away from the experience with a very sexy memory to cherish.  Our last night in Paris turned out to be a gift, not only to ourselves but to the wonderful young man brave enough to say yes to the opportunity put before him.  Vive le Paris! Je vous embrasse!

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