Now that my wife’s New Year’s sex dare is told (and here), it seems only appropriate that I share the fabulous adventures that night of our reader Sloane, who continues to push herself into new sex dares and capture our admiration in the process.

For her New Year she took inspiration from the experiment I first proposed to reader Lisa, then to my wife’s friend Mona. The experiment was then taken up by other daring readers on the site, who have posted their results in the Your Experiments group, and now Sloane….

Here’s the experiment in a sentence: write down one of your most pressing erotic fantasies and deposit it in a public place. I’ll let Sloane tell you how she did it, but I’m warning you: she’s charming.

“My fantasy write-up was on a piece of folded paper. I carried it around with me for part of the evening, then slipped it under a tip jar at the bar I was at on New Year’s Eve.

I was not drinking at this point of the evening, but I had been flirting with a hot bartender as I came up to him with my friends to get their drinks. I hadn’t typed the fantasy out with the plan to give it to anyone specifically that night, but I thought he would do nicely. My friends returned to where we were standing before, and I stayed at the bar chatting with him. He excused himself to help another customer, so I pulled my write up out of my purse and slipped it under the jar right in front of where he had been standing. I don’t think anyone saw me do that, and he certainly did not.

He came back to me and we chatted for a bit longer – I was anxious standing there talking with him, but he didn’t look down to the counter between us, where this folded letter had suddenly appeared. The other bartenders started to get busy with people coming up for drinks, so I told him I’d come back later and walked back to join my friends.

I could see the bar, and him, and the letter, from where we were standing, and I kept glancing back to see if it had been picked up as he made drinks for people. After a short while, the bar got less busy, and I looked over just as he found the letter – he went to collect some money from the tip jar, but instead pulled my letter out from under it and set the jar back down. My heart jumped a bit as I watched him unfold it, but the lighting wasn’t great in the bar, and he attempted to read it, but couldn’t. There was a small lamp on the counter behind him, so he turned towards that, and away from me, so that he could read.

While I hadn’t planned this sex dare out, I had somehow assumed that I would be able to watch my intended target read my letter. I just watched the back of him, not knowing his facial expressions, or how he was reacting to it – just knowing from the way his head was dropped down that he was still reading. I got more nervous and more excited the longer I waited.

He finally raised his head, and before he turned back around, he folded my letter back up and stuffed it into his back pocket. I grinned like an idiot to myself and rejoined my friends’ conversations before he could catch me staring at him. I stayed smirking the rest of the time we were there, and as we were leaving, the bar and my bartender were very busy. I watched him as I slowly started walking past the bar, and he glanced up as I did. We were both already smiling when he looked at me, and he gave me an even bigger smile. And with that, any ounce of me being subtle went away – I returned his smile with the most obvious grin, and I could feel myself start to blush.

His face changed when I did this – he so knew. I had apparently really slowed my pace down as I walked past him, and my friends came up and grabbed me, and pulled me out of the bar with them. They were ‘giggly happy drunk’, and despite having no alcohol, I doubt I was acting any differently as we left. We headed to a house party afterwards, where I caught up to their intoxication as best as I could. And, even though I’m a happy person, a few people did ask me throughout the rest of the evening why I was smiling so much.

I think that if I’d had some alcohol in me while I did this experiment, I would’ve handed it right to my target like I was planning on doing, but my sober nerves won out. I’ll just try it the next time I attempt something like this. Which will happen – this was way too fun to only do once.

My write up: “I need to be told what we are doing, not to be asked. You know what I want – tell me what I’m doing to you, and what you’re going to do to me. And even though I know what you want, and I probably know what is going to happen, I love to hear it from you. Not just to hear you tell me, but to hear you growl it into my ear, you pressing yourself into me.

But, not just telling. I need you to show me. Keep pressing into me until my back is against a wall. Hold my arms at my sides while you kiss me. Hold my arms above my head with your one hand while you feel how wet I am with the other – how wet you have made me.

You’re giving me what I want and need. You know I’m enjoying myself – I sigh and flinch as you pull off my shirt and pinch my nipples. I groan and cling to you as you pound into me and you tell me to cum for you. I smile and I look up at you from the floor as I pull your cock out of my mouth. Knowing that I have given you pleasure gives me pleasure – getting off on getting others off.

But, I also might not make this easy for you.

As you tell me these things, I might mess with you. As you say what’s going to happen, I might reply with, ‘Oh, of course you’re going to do that,’ and, ‘We’ll just see.’ I might have a snarky grin as I tell you this, but we both know that I’d love nothing more than to be proven wrong.

As you start to show me, I might struggle a bit under your grip. I’ll push your buttons. I’ll tease you. I’ll smile even more when you stand your ground and you’ve put me where you want me.

With all this, the one thing I want the most is for you to prove how badly you want me back.

So in between this telling and showing, and as much as I enjoy listening to you, should I get the last word in, I’ll probably tell you to go to hell. So then you can take me to heaven.’”

Need to catch up? Read the Sex Experiment from the beginning: Table of Contents

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