Welcome to ‘Jaime the Libertine – true Erotica Epilogue.’ It’s a bit of a mouthful but SEO and shit, yeah?
If you have just landed here and haven’t read the rest of this story, could I suggest that you catch up by beginning at the start?
This story was originally published on my old site, serialised over five instalments, and with this epilogue tagged at the end. The original date of publication ran from August to October 2023. I compressed the main part of it into three instalments for this re-publishing. It is as it was when I originally published, with a little bit of trimming of stuff which, on reflection, I didn’t think I needed to tell.
I felt that the story needed an epilogue in case some readers gave a toss about the loose ends which the story leaves. True stories are like that – not tidy. If you want the sexy stuff, mybe give this a swerve. If you’ve read the story and want to know more about the mess my little adventure caused; read on.
41.
I realise that there are a number of loose ends to be tied up in my story. I wanted to put this at the end of the final instalment but thought that it was already overly long, hence my idea to have a little epilogue/postscript to clear a few things up.
I am happy to admit that there are aspects to this story and some of the things I want to talk about with you now which do not show me in the best light. I did think about ‘doctoring’ the account. In the end, I just decided to tell it warts and all.
The process of remembering and getting all of this down has given me a chance to think about what I was like 10 years ago, and although some of what I have told you is, with the benefit of hindsight, sometimes unflattering and sometimes even a bit ridiculous I have to cut myself a bit of slack. In my defence, I had only just turned 24, and despite thinking myself to be a mature woman of the world, I was still, at this point, a really young 24 and quite naïve. I was confused about a lot of things, including my sexuality. It was only just beginning to dawn on me that I was somewhere on the ‘bisexual spectrum’. Gosh – that one really was hiding in plain sight, wasn’t it?
42.
As I have mentioned in the story, I was also, from before the kiss on the dancefloor onwards, drunk. I was not smashed or anything: I was in control of myself (more or less) and was able to give proper consent, but I had been drinking all evening. Sean and I had a drink in our hotel bar for ’Dutch Courage’ before going to the club, and I had maybe five glasses of prosecco at the club before I started drinking cocktails with Charles. I am quite an emotional person, and booze tends to exacerbate that, which might help explain why I got so moony about Charles and also the embarrassing tears after we had sex. I’ll come back to the Charles-related loose ends in a bit.
So, right then. The ‘loose ends’. Firstly, where had Sean gotten to? Was there any aftermath from the night’s events? Did I see Charles again?
The taxi ride back to the hotel was mostly silent. My head was off somewhere else. I was trying to process what happened in the last few hours. We both wanted to discuss what had happened but couldn’t in the taxi. We had to wait until we were back at the hotel. I was so tired I kept nodding off even though it was only a 20-minute ride or so. When we got back to the hotel room Sean told me that he was going to have a shower. I said that I would get in after him and clean myself up before bed. I was, I knew, a sticky mess. I had perspired quite a bit, and my dress was damp around my bum where I had been (sorry, this is a bit gross), sitting in my own juices. I smelled of sex, in short.
43.
I kicked my heels off and rested my head on the pillow to wait for Sean to finish his shower. The next thing that I knew was that there was morning light coming in through the window. Sean had drawn the curtains and opened the window a crack to let some fresh air in. He had already been up, dressed and gone down to a café and brought back takeout coffee and a couple of pastries. I found that I was still dressed. Sean had come out of the shower last night to find that I was already asleep. Rather than disturb me he had just pulled the corner of the quilt over me and left me to it.
I dragged myself up in bed feeling sheepish, ashamed and a little emotional. I was thinking of Charles again but inwardly chiding myself: Why was Sean being so lovely to me when I was certain that I didn’t deserve it? I was glad for the snack – I was absolutely ravenous. Sean suggested that I finish my pastry, then get in the shower, and we would then have a ‘catch-up.’
After my shower, I felt somewhat better. I wrapped myself up in a big towel and my hair in a smaller one and went and plonked myself back on the bed for a little ‘honesty’ session.
44.
What I learned was this: the ‘male harem’ thing had taken quite a while to get going. ‘Tall Girl’ seemed to have a certain number in mind, and her selections had been trailing around after her while she recruited: a process which involved a lot of chatting seemingly. This had gone on for about 40 minutes and Sean had been getting a bit fed up and was thinking that he needed to get back to me. Just as he was about to bin the idea off, the recruitment process concluded, and he and four other men set about pleasing Tall Girl in one of the upstairs ‘soft play’ areas. A couple of the men’s partners had come to watch. It was, he admitted, pretty hot, although he had been increasingly conscious that he had left me alone for quite a long time. Immediately after Tall Girl had kissed goodbye to her harem, he had made his way back to the bar, very conscious that an hour and a half had gone by and certain that he was going to be in big trouble.
He found me at the bar, of course. As he approached across the dance floor (which was empty by now) he saw a small group of people at the bar. He was startled to recognise me, sitting on a stool next to an older man, exchanging with him a long, sensual kiss. As Sean was telling me this, I could tell that he was really bothered by it. He admitted to this and said that he would have been much less bothered if he had turned up and found me being fucked over the bar.
45.
I caught Sean up with what had happened with Charles. I was ashamed to note that I was deliberately leaving certain information out, namely that this had been the best sex of my life to date, that I had, in the heat of lust, told Charles that I would move to Paris and give myself to him; that our sex had been incredibly intimate (despite happening in full view of an audience) and that I had felt some quite strong emotions about Charles. I think Sean knew that I was not being entirely open with him, and I hated myself for it. We got ourselves together and went out into the icy cold Parisian January to blow the cobwebs away and find more coffee.
Sean and I spoke more about the evening on and off over the next few hours and days. We got to the point of rationalising that it had been all good and ‘what happens in Paris, stays in Paris’. There is no doubt that there was a slight atmosphere between us for a couple of days, though. For myself, I was constantly on the alert for a sighting of Charles while we were out on the streets, although god knows what I thought I was going to do if I saw him.
Did I see Charles again? No.
46.
When Sean arrived at the bar, Charles realised immediately who he was. He got off his stool, offering it to Sean and telling him effusively how incredibly lucky he was, what an absolute angel I was and how we must contact him if we were ever in Paris again. He did have to go now and rescue his wife, who, he was sure, would be more than ready to be unshackled. Charles squeezed my hand, kissed me on both cheeks, and we exchanged a brief look loaded with meaning. Then he was gone, marching off towards the stairs leading downwards. I was dismayed as I watched Charles go but quickly reminded myself of certain realities and smiled at Sean. Yes, I was fine. Yes, he was a really nice guy. It’s really lovely, actually. Yes, we did. Yes. I’ll tell you all about it later. How was Tall Girl? Oh good. No, I don’t really want another drink, thanks. I’m so tired, would you really mind if we go now?
Sean tried unsuccessfully to cover his disappointment but went to fetch his Jacket from the locker then escorted me to the exit, picking up our coats on the way.
47.
I have thought about Charles on and off over the last 10 years, quite a lot at certain times in my life. It was crazy, given that I was with him for about 90 minutes. Sean and I went back to normal on returning home and did not speak very much about our night in the Libertine club afterwards. Our sex life continued to be good, really good, in fact, but it was a while before I found that I was not thinking about Charles every time Sean and I made love. I’m not proud of that at all; I’m just stating it as a fact. Sean really deserved better.
A few years later, Sean and I had separated, and I found myself in an abusive and controlling relationship. In the many times when I found myself hugging my knees and sobbing, I used to fantasise about running away to Paris and finding Charles. Maybe he had left his wife? Maybe she would indulge him in having me as his mistress? The French are very liberated about that, aren’t they? Surely, he had been thinking about me too and would be beside himself with joy to see me. He would protect me and love me and put me back together again?
Maybe I do have daddy issues after all.
I still have Charles’ business card. I have it in a keepsake box. I never contacted him, no matter how much I wanted to because, deep down, I was scared that he had forgotten me. Maybe I was just one of many young women that he had fucked in libertine clubs over the years. Perhaps the faces blurred into one for him. I couldn’t bear that risk, so the unrequited fantasising seemed safest.
48.
With the distance of 10 years and a more mature head on my shoulders, I can say that I feel pretty sure that we did have a connection, which he felt, too. Thinking that I had fallen in love with him and that the feelings might have been reciprocated, though, were a feature of my drunk, emotional, naïve, horny 24-year-old self. Since my memory of the evening comes to me through that particular filter, I also have to accept that some of my memories of Charles may be coloured by who I was then. Maybe, in different prevailing circumstances, we would have met up later, and something grew from that, notwithstanding the big age gap.
Charles would be in his 60s now. I bet he is still suave and as charming as ever. Some things are best left in the past, though.
49.
What did I learn about the whole swinging business, though? Well, I guess the main thing is that you can plan what you think you are going to do and visualise what may happen, but once you set foot into that arena, all bets are off. Things can go completely differently than you intended.
The other thing that I learned is that you need to have a strong ‘headspace’ about yourself and your relationship. I am an emotional sort of soul, and I wasn’t really prepared for the way that my experience with Charles impacted me.
I would say to anyone who is intrigued and wants to open their relationship up in this way to look into it definitely. It is wildly exciting. On the other hand, you have to be prepared for things to go differently than you expect. You must guard yourself against possible emotional complications. You absolutely have to be aware that you or your partner may like the idea of sex with other people but, when confronted with the reality, may not like it at all. I think that ’the lifestyle’ can be very rewarding and exhilarating for many secure couples but it is not without its risks.
Despite the somewhat bittersweet night that Sean and I had, this was not the only experience that we had with the swinging lifestyle. I will tell you more about that another time…
And that, dear friend, is the end of this story. I have a couple of older stories which I need to tidy up ready to be re-published and some more true stories and sexy fantasies to share. I don’t know which to tell you next so be sure to check back in a weeks time to find out. ‘Till then…
Love, Jaimie. xx
Links and Stuff
Interested in ‘the lifestyle?’ Here’s a straightforward list of pros and cons. Remember, communication is key!
2 thoughts on “Jaimie the Libertine – True Erotica Epilogue”
This was so touching, incredibly erotic, sensitive and lovely. Thank you so, so much for sharing this part of your life.
Thank you Sarah. That means so much. I’ve shied away from the true stories a bit recently, mostly because there’s either an emotional memory attached (like this one) or I’ve felt some weird pang of loyalty to someone that I’d be spilling the beans about. I’ve got a few more real-life tales that I think I will share though, probably in the new year now.
Thank you so much for the lovely comment. Jx