SEX DIARIES: 'Filming ourselves had always been a fantasy. On his birthday, I made it a reality.'

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We had just finished dessert when I excused myself from the table. Teetering in skyscraper heels and a tight black dress, I moved through the restaurant, feeling his eyes follow me. The sun had long set over the city, and Sydney Harbour sparkled 250 odd metres below. I was woozy on celebratory champagne and wet with excitement for my boyfriend’s next birthday surprise.

I veered towards the bathroom and then, when I was sure I was out of sight, ducked into the lift and jammed zero. Silently urging the elevator down, I typed out my text message, hands shaking with nerves.

Reaching George Street, I picked up my pace and hit send.

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“Look for the envelope on my seat.”


I pictured Rob's reaction, confused and leaning across the table to retrieve it, with a key card and white note inside.

“Come find me. Room 437 at the Hilton.”

I arrived at the hotel breathless, clattering heels across the tiled floor, and shot upstairs to the room. Unzipping my dress, I slid it down my body, over a black lace suspender belt and stockings.

Reaching into the wardrobe, I pulled out the costume I had handmade from his favourite movie - a khaki green shirt, I’d adorned it with American military insignia from the film and wore only that over my lingerie. With just three buttons done up, my cleavage, held together in a black lace bra, spilled out over the top.

Spinning around the room to light each candle, I had just pressed play on ‘Take My Breath Away’, when I heard the knock at the door.

Standing in the middle of the room, commanding hands on my hips, I answered, “Come in.”

Taking three steps inside, he stopped suddenly, his dilated pupils taking in my body, desire steaming off him.

“Oh my god.”

In a single heartbeat, he drew himself to me, one hand on my behind. But before his mouth could reach mine, I took a step backwards, revealing a chair. Silently, I pushed him down to sit, before picking up a red silk scarf off the bed. Leaning over him, I pulled his hands behind the chair and tied them together, as a knowing smirk spread across his face.


Standing in front of Rob, I looked him in the eye before motioning to the bedside table and the red light of my handheld video camera. His face lit up in realisation. Filming ourselves had always been a fantasy. Now it was literally time for action.

Filled with earlier’s Dutch courage, I began to move my body to the music. Swaying my hips, I unbuttoned one at a time, exposing more of myself. 

Turning around, I bent over, letting my shirt ride up to reveal a black lacy g-string. Pulling against his restraint, I could hear Rob's murmurs of lust and urgency grow.

Slowly rolling my body up with a twist, I walked forwards, sliding one shoulder out of the shirt and then the other. Letting it fall to the ground, I climbed onto his lap and pushed my chest into his face. Reaching around to unclip my bra, I peeled it off seductively, before teasing his mouth with my nipples.

Grinding down, I could feel him get harder and harder, and knew I needed him now. Standing up, I unclasped the suspender belt and threw it to the side. Wriggling out of my g-string, I was left standing there in black stockings and heels. 

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Straddling him again, I moved my naked clitoris over his jeans, as I kissed down his neck. With the friction becoming too much to handle, I reached forward to undo his tie, and in one swift motion he stood, holding me up with my legs locked around his waist. 

Suddenly Rob plunged us down onto the king-sized bed, him on top and his mouth devouring mine while he fumbled with his belt. Pulling himself out, jeans still around his hips, he quickly thrust into me and I arched my back in pleasure. 

Opening my eyes again, I looked straight into a lens. He’d picked up the video camera and was watching as he filled me up, pulsating in and out, while one hand grabbed at my breast.

Placing it on the side table, he directed me into doggy and, pulling my hips back, drove himself deeper into me as my screams got louder. 

On all fours and exhilarated by an unknown audience, I threw myself into the performance. Relishing every angle, unleashing all noise, and feeling more confident and sexy than I ever had before, I was already looking forward to the sequel.  

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons. The feature image used is a stock photo from Getty.