Sex au plein air  

beaudreau1833 70M
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9/8/2006 10:19 am

Last Read:
9/8/2006 11:54 am

Sex au plein air

I always love fucking in fresh air! It seems so HEALTHY! As the summer comes to an end and with it withers my chances for outdoor sex this year, my mind wanders back to some of my memorable experiences. Of course they weren't always in warm weather--when I was dating P. in Middleburg, VA, a simply gorgeous blond who had buckets of money and no real purpose in life--a sort of proto-type Paris Hilton but poorer and much better looking. Also without the flair for self-promotion. She always had a bottle of scotch by the bed(I didn't say she was well-adjusted. Her father had drunk himself into a stupor and died in Saratoga, her mother just walked away, and the farm P spent most of her time living on was hers but her fathers ex-mistress had a life interest in the property so she lived in the "manor house").
One night P got drunk and belligerent and then passed out. I let her sleep and then about three hours later, she woke up still belligerent and took the covers off the bed and went to sleep on the lawn beside the house. It was in the mid-forties, and I worried about her. I had read about enough famous people getting drunk and dying--Ira Hayes from Mt Suribachi, Dorsey, Faulkner, and so on. I went outside and tried to persuade her to come in, but she wouldn't and something about the cold air had tempered her mood. She asked me to lie down beside her, but I said, "No, you should be inside". She shook her head and huddled with her covers. I was a bit tired of this shit so I knelt down beside her to pick her up and carry her inside and she threw her arms around me and tried to kiss me.

When she did this, at first , I tried to avert my face, I wanted to keep it all business. But life with P was in fact a succession of impromptu sexual venues--a blow job in the employees bathroom of a liquor store where we'd gone to buy wine, hand-job that almost got us killed on I-66 in Fairfield, VA--I came in a fucking geyser that hit both of us in the face and I almost lost control of the car trying to dodge a fountain of gizz. Once I took her bent over the balustrade of a house in Dupont Circle--she leaned out over Massachusetts Ave and grunted like a some primeval animal as she came. So she had, perhaps already predisposed me to what was to come next. Somehow, I was a bit the worse for drink as well, she got her hands on my cock, that was it. I was a bit angry with her, and while this doesn't really fit with the persona I am trying to present here, I do have a weakness for the angry fuck. She got one right there. Someone should have filmed it for the porn industry. Despite the cold air I had a hard-on like a piece of hickory. I put it in her mouth first, driving it toward the soft pallet till she gagged,and then had her wrap her legs around me and fucked her hard, with abandon even, for what must have been two or three orgasms on her part. Then I turned her over and had her from behind as she came again--two of my fingers in her ass, and finally in her pussy again and then in her mouth before I came on her face. In fact, that is the only time I ever came on a woman's face. She had had a NFL football player boyfriend who did it regularly. When she told me, I was appalled, she really was a FACE. Just lovely. But I was just mad enough, just drunk enough and just crazy with testosterone enough to do it that one time.

I miss times like that--last one was a few years ago in Provincetown with a woman whom I met at a writers workshop. Late nite on the beach...but that's a story for another day. If you're good, I'll tell you.

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