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Dogging - Extract - Of course it’s possible
It was the mongrel hour - a mixture of day and night.
Dusk, twilight, gloaming. That time of evening when streetlights come on, and bats wake
up - and some people's thoughts turn to sordid sex.
The brunette undid the top button of her blouse with slender fingers, and wiggled herself
about so that her ample breasts were considerably more exposed. She glanced across at
the tall man sitting beside her, who was in fact her husband.
"How do I look?" she queried.
The tall man gazed at the half-naked mounds of flesh appreciatively.
"Mm. Very nice," he said. "I could almost fuck you myself."
They were sitting in their car, which was parked in the far corner of a country car park. It
was quite a small car park, set back from a minor road, but all day it had been busy with
visitors' cars, spewing out the dogs and children which had been brought out for some
exercise in the nearby woods and picnic field. As night fell, however, this remote and
nondescript place - along with many others like it across the country - saw a different type
of action.
Now the couple's eyes switched away from each other, as another car, a rather battered
old estate, pulled off the road and began a slow sweep of the car park. After some
indecision, it parked up just a little way down from them, and facing outwards, just as they
were. Although it was now getting quite dark, it was clear that there were two people in it -
a man driving and a woman beside him. After a moment - almost deliberately, it seemed,
as if to dispel any doubt - the inside light was turned on briefly, and the faces of a blonde
couple could be seen peering over at the car in the corner.
"What do you think?" said the brunette, with an element of excitement in her voice.
"Oh, definitely," the tall man nodded. "I'm sure I've seen them in here before. We'll let
them make the first move, though."
It wasn't long in coming. A stout man climbed out of the newly arrived car and stretched a
little, looking about him. He glanced over again, but couldn't be sure. One had to be
careful, as not everyone wanted to be approached. He'd heard a few tales about the
consequences of making a move on a 'straight' couple - at best embarrassment, at worst
violence!
However, the tall man at this point wound down his window and rested his arm on the
ledge, and it seemed this was sufficient invitation, as the stout man now strolled over, his
face set in a non-threatening smile.
"Nice evening." He nodded a greeting. "First warm night for a while, eh?"
The tall man responded in kind, but the newcomer was no longer listening. He had caught
sight of the brunette's rather blatantly exposed cleavage, and now he was sure.
A few more moments passed when nothing was said, but a lot of subtle eye contact was
exchanged. The people who were into this game could recognise each other very quickly.
The stout man was now leaning on the window, his eyes glued to those unexplored
breasts, and his cock swelling with the growing certainty of a conquest. The tall man
reached over and lifted his wife's tits right out of her blouse, then pulled her towards him by
a nipple. The stout man didn't hesitate, he leaned right into the car and began stroking and
squeezing the exposed mounds of femininity with a coarse hand.
In this largely silent, impersonal way, a rapport had been established, and an
understanding had been reached. There was still uncertainty as to what exactly was being
made available, but there was no doubt at all that something was.
The stout man now spoke again. "What do you want to do? We can't ask you back -
we've got kids."
"We can't either," said the tall man, throwing a tiny glance at his wife. In fact they had no
particular reason not to invite people back to their comfortable home - they just preferred
not to. "Anyway, she rather likes it outdoors."
The stout man's cock surged again at this comment. He couldn't wait, now. "Well, we
could all go up into the woods, or just stick by the cars. It's up to you."
The tall man raised his eyebrows at his wife. "What do you fancy?"
The brunette had decided that the stout man would do her very nicely. "Shall we just
swap for a bit?" she suggested, and made to open her door.
The stout man hurried round the car to help her out, and couldn't resist getting his hands
on her deliciously curved arse as she emerged into the night air and his arms.
"You're gorgeous, love," he muttered, and took her firmly by the hand and led her over the
uneven ground towards his own car.
"Thanks, mate!" he said to the tall man, who was now nursing a raging erection of his
own. "I'll send the missus right over!"
The brunette was giggling as she waved her husband goodbye and ran a hand over the
stranger's broad back. This was her favourite moment - the excitement and anticipation of
someone new!
It was true, she loved playing round outdoors and in seedy places, and was a perfectly
willing partner in the adult games her husband had slowly got her involved in. Tonight in
particular she was feeling very randy - as a result of the unusually strong video they'd been
watching earlier - and she was more than ready for a bit of wanton fun with this rather dishy
hunk who was now steering her towards the back seat of his car.
She peered at his blonde wife with some curiosity, hoping she would be reasonably
attractive, so that her husband also had a good time. She was. Long bushy hair and lots
of make up - nice and tarty, just the way he liked them.
"Hi," she said, giggling still. "You okay?"
The blonde smiled and nodded, but couldn't seem to think of anything to say. In fact, on
second inspection, her painted eyes seemed rather glazed, as if she was slightly drunk. A
moment later, however, she had been yanked out of the car and given a slap on the bottom
to send her on her way across the car park.
"Off you go, love," the brunette heard the stout man say. "Have fun!"
Then he was hers, and they tumbled and kissed and squealed and laughed and fucked in
the confines of the back seat until the whole car rocked comically on its suspension and the
discretion they would normally have observed in terms of noise level was forgotten in their
reckless abandon.
Back at the other car, the tall man got out to greet the erotic vision that was teetering
across the gravel towards him on high heels.
"Hello, love," he said warmly, opening the back door for her, and simultaneously plunging
an eager hand up her short, tight skirt. "Oh, God," he muttered, as he felt her shaven
crotch, and then pulled her top down from her pert little tits, and fixed his mouth round one
of her tiny nipples. "Oh, shit, you look lovely. Oh, yes! I'm so bloody hot for it - is it alright
if I fuck you? Will you suck me first, though? Oh, God, you've got a beautiful pussy!"
The blonde fell back under his verbal and physical onslaught, and let him do whatever he
wanted. She looked up at the dark sky through the window, and tried to focus on the stars.
Later that night, the tall man and the brunette cuddled up in bed, each elated by their
experience, but equally happy to be back home together and in each other's arms.
"It is possible, isn't it?" said the tall man, feeling profound.
"What?"
"To enjoy screwing around, but still be passionately in love with one person."
"Of course it's possible," said the brunette, snuggling closer to the man she adored above
all others. "At least, I enjoy it, and I'm in love."
"So am I, very much," said the tall man, truthfully, and kissed his wife lovingly on the nose.
It was possible. They'd been doing it for five years, and planned to keep on doing it for
many more. So were a lot of other people. Much as society ranted and raved about
monogamy and fidelity being the only way, a significant proportion of men and women - far
more than many would believe - had drawn their own conclusions about what was
acceptable, and chose to live their lives in full, trusting, loving, and open relationships.
But it didn't work for everyone.
By the time the stout man had pulled his car up outside their small suburban home, the
blonde was crying uncontrollably.
"I can't do it any more," she sobbed. "I don't want to do it. You can't make me!"
"You'll do what I bloody well tell you," the stout man snarled, the friendly veneer he
reserved for strangers completely abandoned. "And don't pretend you don't like it, you
hypocritical slut! I've never heard any complaints."
The blonde covered her tear-stained face with her hands, battling once more against
resignation. She wanted more than anything to leave, to get away from this man who had
dragged her down to what she saw as the depths of perversion. But she had two very
good reasons not to - her two beloved little children who were sleeping soundly and
innocently up in the back bedroom. How could she ever explain to them why she'd taken
them away from their daddy?
She moaned at the thought of more years of letting herself be defiled by strangers.
"Will you shut up!" her husband snapped, yanking at her hair. "Tidy yourself up and get
inside. And don't think I've finished with you, yet. The thought of having had that real
woman tonight has turned me on again. I intend to use your hole good and proper before
we go to sleep."
That's the thing about swinging, the brunette might well have remarked had she overheard
this sad exchange. You never really know who you've had.
Erotic Writing