A few people have requested a post about fucking outdoors and finally, I am ready to oblige, although I’m thinking it won’t be in the positive sexy light they were hoping for.
Yes, I have had sex pretty much everywhere over the years with various people. It started with my first boyfriend at the age of 15. Unable to venture upstairs with him under my mother’s room (she predicted my slutty side) we had to make do with everywhere else. The first time he fingered me was our local park, which became a regular location, sometimes for sex also, so I guess the bar was lowly set early on. We fucked in alleyways, his parents sofa, woodlands, stood against the side of my house and next to a gravestone in the local cemetery. Even getting caught once by a neighbour, in our not so hidden spot of leaning against the garage door at the end of my short driveway where the streetlight directly shone. She even told my mum; the plus side of this revelation was suddenly teenage scumbag (who I was only in love with to piss my parents off) was now allowed into my bedroom to avoid more neighbourhood shame.
During my late teens with another longer term boyfriend whom I actually did love, I found the classic ‘making love in the rain’ scenario suddenly appealing and dragged him one evening onto the streets much to his horror and demanded he hold me in the torrential down pour and make love to me. His questioning of the practicality didn’t deter me and even though I accepted we couldn’t lie on the puddle filled ground, we could at least find something to lean against like a tree. I remember the rain soaking my hair and it clinging over my face, clumped in front of my eyes; my nipples, which I quickly exposed (fully taking the lead in the situation) stinging from the cold heavy raindrops. Pretending everything was wonderfully sexy and ignoring his shivers, I persevered in mechanical intercourse; our bodies being too numb to experience any pleasure.
We tried again, the same boyfriend and I, as we left the club one evening to search for a taxi for us and his friends. Standing at the side of the building, I noticed the alleyway leading around the back to the delivery area. Too tempting to decline. He got dragged there and willingly fucked me against the wall. It went well despite him being 6ft 5 and me a mere 5ft 4 and I only suffered a few scraps against the bricks. Holding my hand he lead me (trailing behind) back on to the street to be greeted by his friends and a waiting cab. My vest top was pulled down revealing my braless breasts for all to see. Oblivious until told by his best mate, I ended the evening mortified.
Cars, are simply awful places for fucking, no matter how determined you are to find a practical position it’s impossible not to get something poking into you whether it be a gearstick, seat belt buckle or door handle it’s always a passion killer. Or even worse is the scenario I found myself in Working Day Adventure
Living in a student tower block and indulging in many one night stands it became a game with my cohabitants on who could find the funniest place to shag. Mine were pretty obvious such as the pool table, lift and fire escape and I couldn’t compete with my friend who fucked a girl we all hated, right in front of the security camera allowing us all to watch on the monitor in the communal lounge area.
We all fought to be the one who got to announce this to her publicly at the student bar the next day, resulting in a cheap pint of lager being poured over our male flatmate’s head. Oh how we laughed back in the good ole days.
An outdoor sex scene that I have always been fond of is from Nine and a Half Weeks, where Kim Basinger and Mickey Rouke find themselves, after running from thugs, in some manky location with a big ventilating fan whirling in the background, fucking on concrete steps as water drips on them from a leaky gutter or pipe. I love watching it but I can’t deny the reality of how uncomfortable those big grey slabs of stair would be, the pain of each drop of ice cold water would cause on the skin and how I would undoubtedly catch some form of hepatitis.
You would think I would learn of the poor success rate and give up on outdoor sex but my determination to get it right, kept me going.
- The beach was a disaster, sand in every crevice and the smell of ‘Mersey’ lurking in the background was a distraction.
- The dimly lit pool on a clammy evening during a Spanish holiday was going pretty well until security moved us along.
- The changing room in Topshop was going well, fucking in front of the giant mirror with the soft lighting but my paranoia of being told off by a shop assistant or somebody moving the curtain made it a bit rushed.
- The open wasteland next to houses and a busy road during a Saturday afternoon was the closet I came to enjoying myself but we were interrupted by a dog walker just before orgasm.
Even sex indoors can be a bit of a nightmare. I have fucked at several house parties in my younger years and always end up being interrupted. A passionate encounter on the stairs ended up with a badly bruised back and I have lost count of the number of carpet and laminate flooring burns to my skin. During one liaison I was flung from the sofa onto the pretty block wood vanished floor where my head made an amazingly loud cracking sound. Still conscious, I fought back the tears and masked my pain from my lover, who began to thrust himself deeply and powerfully inside me. I sloped off to the bathroom after, for a private mope and cry, while holding one of his clean socks soaked under the cold tap, on the huge lump poking through my hair.
Sex in the bath or shower is disastrous. Uncomfortable, awkward and hardly flattering. A friend of mine was fucking a new boyfriend against the shower glass, extremely proud of herself for being so flamboyant and passionate with someone she didn’t know to well. Then she fell through the glass and knocked herself unconscious on the base of the sink. She awoke covered in blood and naked in the arms of her new lover as he carried her downstairs to await the ambulance crew.
The risk of getting caught, for me, isn’t a turn on. Maybe deep down I’m a good girl? I don’t mind a cheeky fiddle in the darkness of the cinema or sneaky hands in the pub. I’ve managed to perform fellatio in a club and in a crowd of thousands during a festival but actually having sex outdoors for me, is too much hassle. I’m pretty sure that people will contest my opinion and say well it was in the wrong location, with the wrong person and how they adore sex outside; I simply must have been doing it wrong. I can understand the passion of wanting somebody ‘right here, right now’ but we all know fucking on an expensive mattress with goose down pillows to lay your head is much more snug.
Perhaps I’ve finally hit an age where laziness kicks in and apart from bent over the arm of the sofa or kitchen table, there is nowhere I would rather be intimate with my husband than our beautiful, incredibly comfortable, sacred happy place. Our king sized bed.
*While browsing for photos to illustrate the post I found beautiful pictures of people mimicking outdoor intercourse. Shame they didn’t make them more realistic with looks of discomfort creeping across their faces.