Sex With Strangers: A Travel Journal of Sexual Conquests Part One

Sex With Strangers.

The driver picked me up around the dimly lit Rue de la Paix. I was separated from my family somewhere along the way, with a dead cell phone in my back pocket. I felt relieved and curious about where the night would take me. “American?” the driver said, breaking my haze. A driver seems like too dull of a title for the man I was staring at. “Yes,” I said. He adjusted his rearview mirror and said, “Where to?’ I caught more than a glimpse of his dark eyes and full lips and suddenly had a change of plans. “Take me to your favorite place. It needs to be far away from here, somewhere quiet.” I whispered to him. All I could think about was sex with strangers. I liked to think that I could be that free. 

Would I have the nerve to pull something like this off?

We drove, with what seemed like no destination in sight. I spent the time looking out the windows at streetlights, but slowly he caught me in his mirror. There was so much staring. I would have been angry if I wasn’t enjoying it so much. He started running his hands through his hair and making uncomfortable movements as if we were both anticipating another type of arrival. He pulled into the back of an old café surrounded by trees. “Ok, is this what you wanted?” He said. I wanted sex with strangers,  I thought to myself. He stopped the meter and continued our game. “I don’t have money,” I said abruptly while pulling at my collar and biting my lip.

I did, however, have an animalistic desire to have sex with strangers.

No sense of worry, no sense of fear. My once glance is all it took. I had a rush of elation when he jumped out of his car door and opened mine. He picked up my feet and pulled my legs towards him. His hands began to slide up my thighs, all the while making me tingle all the way to my very core. He nibbled at my hips and my belly, making me wonder why I had never had sex with strangers before this. He hovered over me. Tugging at the buttons of my blouse and kissing my neck, he started combing my hair with his rough hands. Just as he started sliding my tight leather pants down slowly, I pulled out an American fifty-dollar bill and pushed it to his chest.

Without saying a word, I got out and walked to the taxi stand. “Where are you going?” he said. “I have reservations with my fiancée in an hour,” I said while smiling, getting into my next ride. “Where to?” the new driver asked. “The Restaurant at 2 de la Paix.” I said to him with a smile while looking through his rearview. 

Sometimes the rush is all you need. Every once in a while getting close to sex with strangers is an adventure in itself. I’m sure my handsome driver didn’t feel the same way, but I love knowing that he thought about me when he fucked his wife later that night. I also loved my long ride back to my hotel, where my future husband would soon enjoy a very short dinner and a very long night.

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