Bakji and I often talk about outdoor sex but not because we do it a lot. In fact, in the four years we have known each other we have played outdoors once. It does, however, come in the conversation surrounding things we felt like we had to do in non-kink relationships to prove we were doing the sex right. Things that often felt a little contrived and more like a tick box exercise than a genuine desire.
That’s not to say we think everyone who embraces sex and/or kink outdoors is doing it for the wrong reasons, but we have recognised that in our current dynamic it isn’t really our go-to kink. However, that isn’t to say I haven’t done it before, I absolutely have, some memories of which make me feel quite wistful and some just make me roll my eyes with the idiocy of the situation.
It is very rare I talk about sexual encounters from my past, especially those that involve my ex-husband but I am going to lift that silence very briefly because most of the good memories I have of outdoor sex are with him, and I definitely smile when I think back on how those memories were made.
Back in the day, when I was 19/20, so 15 years ago, we would perhaps once a month spend a ludicrous amount of money going dancing and getting drunk. At the time none of his friends had girlfriends. Which meant it was usually me and a hoard of about 8 fellas getting our groove on before walking home to my house where everyone would stay the night.
Before anyone gets excited that this story is about to turn into a gangbang tale, let me say this was long before non-monogamy became part of my life. What would happen though is we would realise if we ‘did it’ once we got home, they’d likely all be able to hear and that wasn’t appealing at the time. So we had to find an alternative solution.
Thankfully there is a particular church, that I still walk past often, that allowed us sanctuary to perform our dirty deed! We would gradually slow our pace down, so we were behind everyone else, then we’d scurry into the grounds of the church and have our wicked way with each other. I have zero desire to have sex with my ex-husband these days, but these memories do make me smile.
We were so young, though he is 4 years older than me, so excited by our relationship and all the shit that eventually came our way was far from hitting us. I sometimes forget how impulsive we were when it came to sex, and how often we could have got caught having sex somewhere we shouldn’t be. We were so ridiculously in love, and the lust matched that, it was a joyous time in my life.
People are often surprised that my ex and I are still friends, that we worked through the hurt of our divorce to not only parent together but to have a degree of affection for each other. When I look back on memories like this I can’t imagine not being his friend, he is a wonderful human being and he knows a version of me that no-one else does. That 19-year-old girl he fucked behind the grounds of a church doesn’t exist anywhere anymore except in his and my memories, and it’s nice for me to know someone who remembers her as I do.
Outdoor sex hasn’t all been fun and games though. Recently I shared When Never Means Never Again. An experience from that time of my life is perhaps one of the worst examples of engaging in outdoor sex that there is.
I think overall most of us can agree that consent is hugely important, and this includes people consenting to see strangers fucking. Now I know getting caught can be part of the thrill of outdoor playing, but I think there are ways to add a bit of risk, and ways not to and I think this particular memory comes under the how not to do it category.
Unfortunately, the setting for this tale is absolutely beautiful and I dearly wish I had experienced the location and hotel with someone else. It was a warm weekend and it was a very busy little village. Did that stop my companion for the weekend fingering me against a tree, where I could literally see the full beer garden over his shoulder? No, it did not. Did it stop us fucking in a field that was quite literally attached to someone’s house? No, it did not.
I am not remotely proud of these moments. We were absolutely reckless in our choices and while we didn’t get caught, I think that was more luck than judgement. Not one of the people we potentially subjected to catching us wanted their weekend interrupted by our public display.
I honestly shudder when I think back to those times, fuelled by recklessness and someone else’s desire for other people to see what he ‘had’. Flaunting something that other people will be shocked by and sending them on their way feeling slightly horrified isn’t to my mind engaging in kink in the right way and I am forever grateful that as far as I know we weren’t caught and no-one is telling their friends about the time they caught me fucking in a field only a few feet from the road with only a bush to hide my modesty!
This just leaves me with one more outdoor experiences to share with you all and that was with the beautiful Bakji. In our very first summer as sexy friends, we decided to go frolicking in the New Forest with some rope. An adventure that provided us with my featured image.
We walked for a very long time to find the perfect spot, the idea of getting caught absolutely did not turn us on. When we did find our secluded area of the forest to play in it was indeed delightful. Once again playing outdoors gave me some very fond memories.
However, as fun as that day was, and being tied and fucked by Bakji is always a delight, it doesn’t hold a candle to some of the indoor fun we’ve had. Despite the fact we chose carefully, the worry that someone might stumble across us was definitely there. I think when outdoor play isn’t your kink, engaging in it can quite often be more worry than it’s worth.
I often think I’d like to do more photography outdoors, inspired by the wonderful images my fellow bloggers share. The idea of more rope outside is appealing too, again the photographic opportunities being part of that. The truth is though I’m just not drawn to the outdoors in this way. I love that other people are though and I am more than happy to live vicariously through your words and images.