Chapter 1 — My Wife and I Share Our Experience

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

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My wife and I are newlyweds.

Like many others, I'm an avid reader of erotic stories… so I've decided to share our experience—a fantasy I've wanted to write about for some time.

This is the first part: our story at the video booth. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Perhaps it might even inspire couples or partners who always seek something new.

Back when we were dating, one of our favorite places to make love was none other than the video booth.

We just weren't used to going to love motels during broad daylight—it felt awkward.

So whenever we craved each other and needed to be alone, the video booth became our go-to place.

That day was a Sunday.

We met around noon, unsure what to do, and ended up heading to a video booth without saying a word.

We didn't need to say "I want sex." All we had to do was suggest "Let's go to the video booth," and the meaning was clear.

That day, we were in a neighborhood we'd never been to before. We wandered around until we spotted a video booth that caught our eye.

It was slightly different from the ones we usually visited—the kind where all the windows were completely sealed off with movie posters or thick paper so no one could see inside.

This one had a door made of wood up to about knee-height, and above that, foggy translucent glass reaching nose level.

Next to it, there was a room with a window—half wooden paneling, half opaque glass up to chest height, and above that, transparent glass.

It was still a bit early in the morning when we walked in.

The owner—a man who looked like he was cleaning—was running a vacuum cleaner. He quickly turned it off when he saw us enter and hurried over to greet us.

He was a tall man, about 180 cm, in his mid-thirties, with sharp, well-defined features.

Seeing him cleaning, we hesitated at the entrance and asked if they were open yet.

He apologized, explaining there had been a gathering the night before and things were delayed, but assured us the rooms were ready. Only the hallway still needed cleaning, and he asked for our understanding.

As compensation, he offered us discounted room fees and free drinks.

We agreed happily and decided to stay.

The video we picked—I honestly can't remember the title clearly now.

To avoid disturbing us with noise from the hallway cleaning, he guided us to a room down the second corridor.

After turning into the second passage, there were three rooms on the left and two on the right—the far end blocked by a building column.

We entered the middle room on the left.

The room at the very corner appeared to be used as a storage space for drinks, its door slightly ajar.

So in effect, we were in the innermost room.

Was this the owner's subtle consideration for such an affectionate couple?

At first, we were quietly disappointed—the room wasn't fully sealed off.

Part of me hoped we'd turn back.

But we couldn't refuse his generous offer of free drinks and half-priced service. And leaving after coming all this way would've been awkward.

So we stayed.

The room had a three-person sofa, with a large cushion attached so you could stretch your legs out—almost like a bed.

We hung our outer clothes on hooks mounted above the glass window—something I assumed was thoughtful planning for couples—and took off our shoes before climbing onto the sofa.

Then, like any young lovers, we lay down together and started watching the video.

My wife rested her head on my chest, watching the screen, then slowly began touching my cock through my pants.

Already aware of the mood, my cock had swelled to full hardness, straining against the fabric.

Her hand moved back and forth, frustrated by the barrier, until finally she unzipped my pants and freed my cock from both underwear and trousers.

As if thanking her, my cock sprang out, throbbing in the air, flushed and pulsing with urgent breaths.

My wife lowered her head further and began sucking it.

I watched, mesmerized, as she opened her mouth wide and took my glans deep inside. A dry swallow slid down my throat.

For a long while, I listened to the wet slurp-slurp sounds of her mouth working me, my cock growing harder, racing toward orgasm.

I lifted her top, unhooked her bra, and began fondling her breasts.

The video playing on the TV continued on its own, oblivious to us—but we were completely absorbed in each other.

The room echoed only with my moans and the sound of her lips tightly wrapped around my shaft, filling the space with raw sensuality.

My hands guided her onto her stomach, and she kept sucking me as we formed a T-shape—me lying on my back, her kneeling with her head near my groin.

She wore a skirt, so I told her to take off her stockings and panties.

Without stopping her oral rhythm, she slipped her hand under her skirt and pulled them both down.

Seeing her bare legs beneath the skirt sent a fresh wave of arousal through me.

I was close to climax, so I gently pulled her head up and kissed her deeply.

Was it the semi-open room that made everything feel more thrilling?

Knowing someone could walk by and see us instantly heightened the tension.

Our hearts pounded, yet we both felt electric currents surging through our bodies.

When my wife moved her head back toward my cock, I suddenly froze.

From the corner behind me, near the door, I saw a dark shadow moving back and forth.

Instantly, a mix of shame and indescribable excitement took over my body, leaving me dazed for just a moment.

Yet my wife, either unaware or unconcerned, kept sucking me vigorously.

Her hand gripped my thick shaft, pumping up and down steadily.

After that brief pause, I gently pulled her head up again, kissed her, and whispered into her ear what I'd seen.

Glancing sideways, she noticed the shadow too—but acted as if nothing had happened.

Instead, she lowered her head again and sucked me even more fiercely.

She even licked my balls with her tongue.

My cock, glistening with her saliva, stood straight up, twitching violently.

Rather than feeling ashamed that someone might be watching, I felt an overwhelming, nameless thrill—and realized, in that moment, I was actually enjoying it.

A strange emotion stirred within me.

I guided her back into position—on her stomach, me beside her in a T-shape.

I caressed her groin and hips gently, then slowly lifted her skirt.

In the quiet room, the sound of her sucking and my swallowing echoed louder than ever.

Her pussy was already soaked, leaking so much arousal that it had dripped down to her inner thighs. She was incredibly turned on.

I rubbed her clit, slick with wetness, all while keeping an eye on the shadow.

Then—the shadow shifted to the left, toward the window.

Wanting her to be seen, I pulled her skirt all the way up to her waist and spread her legs wider.

Anyone peering through the window would have had a full, unobstructed view of her glistening, dripping pussy.

I slid a finger into her.

One. Then two.

As I thrust in and out, my wife, who had been sucking me passionately, began moaning into my cock.

I quickened my pace.

Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore—she released my cock from her mouth, grabbed it tightly with her hand, and focused on the sensations flooding her body.

She rocked her hips as if performing for an audience, chasing orgasm with wild abandon.

I stopped moving my fingers and twisted my body, sliding underneath her—from her legs upward.

She lifted her hips higher to let me in more easily, which shifted her pussy even more into view from the window.

I clearly sensed a dark head moving closer to the glass, then pulling back.

Once beneath her, she couldn't wait—she grabbed my cock and guided it into her pussy, taking me in from above.

As she swallowed me inch by inch, from glans to root, I knew someone was watching us—very closely.

The thought electrified me, sending waves of intense arousal through every nerve.

Fully buried inside her, she collapsed forward onto my chest and began riding me up and down.

It was as if she wanted the watcher outside to see everything.

Whether it was the intensity of the moment or the thrill of exposure, I came faster than ever before.

And my wife—she later told me—felt three orgasms in that short span.

After sex, we just lay there for a long time.

Stunned by what had just happened.

Overwhelmed by a strange, delicious excitement.

Silent. Just holding onto the warmth of each other, the echoes of pleasure, and the secret we now shared.