‘Dogging’ is a British expression for a sexual activity in a public place, usually a car park or public park and usually at night. The act(s) itself is not illegal and only becomes a matter for the police if a member of the public (non-watching) complains about it. It is common for a lone woman to make herself available to several other men, often simultaneously.
My Exgf had occasionally spoken of wanting to watch people dogging. Now that our relationship had disintegrated and resurrected itself in the form of a fuckbuddy phoenix, I thought it might be fun to indulge her in her fantasy. The idea didn’t appeal to me in particular, but seeing her reacting to whatever we saw could be interesting. She’d be horny for sure afterwards and probably quite willing to do whatever I wanted.
I’m aware that I’m still smarting from the previous weekend in which Musician Gal and Career Girl departed stage left from the melodrama that is my love life. I’m feeling a little angry at both those women and who better to relieve my frustration than my own free whore? The woman whom I loved more deeply than I thought I ever would, but who had deceived me, just like these other women had tried; she deserved what I was doing with her.
I make arrangements with my Exgf to get together on Saturday afternoon. I used a website that is a forum for dogging meetups to locate a nearby nature reserve that several people indicated they’ll be visiting on Saturday night. I make no mention of this to my Exgf as is becoming our way, never expressly saying what it is that we want but just letting things go in a particular direction. Sometimes actions are hornier than words.
I fetch her with my sports car at what used to be our home, the building that I still have so much money invested in, money that I want back. The way that I now know her, she’s seeing what’s going on as a triangle involving sex, money and love. To me it’s much clearer, it’s just sex. I’ve pretty much written that money off, but she can earn it from me by making some debauched memories with me.
It’s a beautiful Saturday afternoon as we sit in a park in a no-horse town, surrounded by deadbeats and no-hopers. We’re listening to an assortment of wanna-be pop stars warbling on a crowded stage as a we eat over-cooked, over-priced hamburgers and hotdogs. The scene is totally in keeping with how our relationship was, i.e. down-market, unhealthy and leaving a bad taste in the mouth. Ever since the day I had met my Exgf (now fuckbuddy) I had walked on the seedier side of life. She had friends who were junkies and even her stepfather was a jailbird (smuggling dope, which is what he was too). Many people in her social circle lived off state benefits and some topped up their earnings with petty criminal proceeds. For example, her step-sister was a prostitute. I had admired my Exgf for her loyalty to these people, always trying to rehabilitate them, never judging them. More than anything now, I see her as a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, from the bad side of town. Love truly does blind.
“This scene’s a bit sad. How about we make a move?” I say to my Exgf as another starlet sans talent finishes her act.
“What you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we go make your fantasy of watching dogging come true,” I say with a straight face.
She says nothing, I didn’t need her to speak, but her eyes sparkle. Without a word we get up in unison and make for my car.
We arrive at a car park at the entrance to a nearby nature reserve. It’s not yet even dusk and only one other car is parked there. A bearded fat guy is sitting by himself at a picnic table, thumbing his phone. Is he looking at the dogging forum that led me to this place? My Exgf gives me a concerned look, but I just smile. I have no idea what I’m getting us into.
If it gets dark and other cars start arriving, what’s going to happen? Would we see people fucking on car bonnets, women being spit-roasted? Would we see a real-life bukkake session?
What would she do if a guy walked over to our car? Would she interact with him? Would she lower the window and talk to him? What if he put his hand through the window and felt her tits? Would she object? Or what if he put his hand between her legs? She always liked being fingered, so would she open her legs and let him finger her? What if he took his cock out – would she suck it? Would she enjoy this? All this while I watched? How would I react to this? I didn’t want to find out. She’s my whore. I don’t see the point in sharing her.
“Let’s go explore,” I say and she follows my lead. I can sense that she’s becoming a little nervous. She grabs my hand. She’s feeling vulnerable and looking to me for protection. As part of our five years together we spent two of it living in a Third World country. That came to an end when I was accused of attempted murder. That’s a story for another time. She knows I’ll protect her; she knows what I’m capable of.
We follow a path that leads to a clearing and to one side is a dense thicket with low-hanging branches that has what looks like a natural door in the centre.
“That looks interesting. Let’s find out what’s in there,” I say, to which I feel her squeeze my hand.
We enter the copse to find that Nature has created a perfect bubble from tree branches and leaves. This natural canopy has an open space in the centre and we go stand in it. You can’t see much of the outside as daylight streams in from above. I look around and see that many people have used this space, given the well-worn footpath that leads to it and the concentric paths around the larger trees. Used condoms and their wrappers are scattered about. This must be where the doggers come to have their fun. My Exgf looks around and realizes this too.
I find this kind of setting disgusting but to my Exgf it’s a turn-on. I think she has an affinity for the seedy; it’s naughty. She drops to her haunches and starts fiddling with my jeans belt and zipper. Within seconds she’s pulled my cock out and is eagerly sucking on it. I’m surprised by her brazenness and am happy to let her do what she wants. I would love to be able to read her mind, to know what she’s thinking and feeling.
My current super-power is to make chocolate disappear. I’d gladly upgrade to being able to read any woman’s mind. Mel Gibson’s character in ‘What Women Want’ has that ability and it would make life so much easier, fun and interesting if I had it too.
I open her blouse and pull her breasts out of the bra, letting them dangle free as she keeps sucking away on my cock, not even opening her eyes as I did so. My cock was getting big and hard, did I want to cum in her mouth? Should I be outrageous and cum on her face? Or will her tits do? Or should I save it for later? The bigger and harder my cock gets, the more she seems to enjoy sucking on it. Does she enjoy the sensation of that happening or is she getting wet from a sense of power that she must be feeling? I suspect that it’s the latter.
What if the bearded fatso joined us now? He might have followed us; he might be watching us. If he came up to us and got his cock out, what would she do? Has she an unspoken fantasy of sucking off two cocks at once? Or would she stand up, bend over and let him put his cock in her wet pussy while she sucked my cock? Even after five years together I still don’t know what she’s capable of. I used to think I knew, but all I knew was what she wanted me to see.
“I think we should go finish this at home. Your place or mine?” I ask.
“Mine,” is all she says as I pull my cock out of her mouth. Another minute of that and she’d be savouring my protein shake.
We get back to the car park to see that the fat guy and his car have gone. I’m relieved but his presence did add a sense of danger and excitement to proceedings. A full-blown public orgy will have to wait for another time, if ever. I’m not too sure I’ll be comfortable with it but I reckon my Exgf will like it.
I speed back to her place and we immediately go into the lounge. She gets out her camera, switches it on and points it at the sofa.
“I want you to fuck me on the sofa,” she says as she starts stripping.
I do the same while feeling bemused that she now wants to film us fucking. Never did I think that this day will come. Gone is her innocent good-girl routine. I’ve done something to ignite her lust. I don’t know what I’ve done, but I like it. It’s the honesty I find refreshing.
She throws herself down on the sofa, spreads her legs, revealing a freshly-shaved pussy. She cups her breasts and starts tweaking her nipples. I know enough to know that she’s ready to fuck; no foreplay required. I’m still pretty hard from her sucking earlier and the sense of danger has heightened what we’re both feeling.
I get on top of her and slide my almost-totally erect cock into her wet pussy. Yep, she’s turned on and I can’t help but wonder if she’s been thinking about this since I suggested that we get together. She normally keeps her camera upstairs in a cupboard.
We don’t even kiss, we just fuck. Her fleshy wetness makes my dick bigger and harder, it causes her to make anguished sounds of approval. She did always like my cock, but I now know that it’s because her pussy is so loose from all the other cocks that have fucked it that only an above-average sized cock can make her feel anything.
That thought lets off a train of other thoughts in my mind. How many other guys after me are going to fuck her on this sofa? Spray their cum on her body or into one of her holes? Will she ask them to eat things out of her cunt too? Memories of watching her slide a vibrator up her arse on this sofa reappear. I can almost see her sliding a Mars bar into her pussy. I find those memories a turn-on and realize that I’m close to cumming. It’s too soon; I want this to last longer. I pull my cock out of her.
“What’s the matter?” she asks.
“Nothing. I’m close to cumming. It’s too soon. Turn to face the camera and play with yourself,” I instruct.
She complies and starts rubbing her clit, two fingers between her lips and over it, looking straight into the camera as she does so. It’s going to look pretty hot when we watch it later. Did the two filming sessions at my place do things for her? They must have, why else is she filming us now? Or is she doing it for my benefit? Not likely. It’s something new for her and she likes it, I tell myself.
“I’m close to cumming. I want you to fuck me,” she says.
I get on top of her, missionary style, somewhat amazed that my erection has lasted this long. My cock slides effortlessly into her slippery vagina and her grunting sounds tell me she likes it. She keeps rubbing away at her clit, making it somewhat uncomfortable for me having her hand jammed in where it was. Nevertheless I feel like cumming now, reasoning that the memory card in the camera that I had bought her in better times was about to fill up. I wanted our little movie to end with a wet finale.
In our five years together only once had we managed to cum at the same time. Of course now that we’re just fuckbuddies it starts to happen again. The problem is that I don’t want to cum inside her; I’m barebacking. Condoms have always felt like a bodybag for my cock and I can’t feel a thing. Fuckus-interruptus courtesy of a floppy-cocky is not a good thing.
My Exgf started cumming and I hold off for as long as I can before I have to pull out. She let off sounds of displeasure at my doing so but I didn’t care as my highest priority was spraying my cum over her tummy and tits while making sure I did so at an angle that let the camera see what was happening.
As my cum spurted all over her body she kept rubbing away at her clit, not caring where my cum landed. I think that the lengthy build-up to penetration had had a massive effect on her because her orgasm seemed to go on forever. I was well-spent, gasping for fresh air while she was still writhing away, uttering her customary “oh my gawd” mantra.
After about a minute her hands slump to her sides. “That was my best climax ever,” she says with a look of surprise on her face.
I just smile but am again struck by the absurdity of us having our best sex now that we’re no longer a couple. How many good times had we missed out on over the years, the very same years that I now think of with a sense of regret? I feel somewhat cheated, cheated by missing out on better sex, cheated by not really having the relationship that I thought I was in.
Why is this good sex happening now? Is it because she’s no longer putting on a good-girl act? Is it because I know just how much of a slut she has been and she can now relax? Any sense of guilt or unease on her part is alleviated? Or is it because she’s hell-bent on winning me back? If the latter, then I have to wonder just how much of it is just another act.
I never did get to see the video we made.
LESSONS LEARNED: 1) A lengthy, intense build-up to sex leads to good orgasms. The brain is the greatest sexual organ.
Kings of Leon – Sex is on Fire