The Good Dogging Guide

by Heidi Flow

  “I’m sure you can come up with something.”

  I laughed, but my husband didn’t laugh, he was still sulking over the pig’s ear he’s made over the tyre.

  The muscular male smiled. “So, are you guys are on holiday?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Just taking in the sights and sounds and sensations around Scotland. And when we get the chance, enjoying a bit of dogging fun.”

  You should have seen the look on his face. His friend looked surprised as well, as did my husband which is funny really, because I thought he’d be used to all my little quirks and the tricks I pull out of my hat, without people expecting. “Would you fancy joining us for a little fun?”

  Neither male answered with words, such was their shock, but they both nodded their heads frantically.

  “Good,” I said. “We’ll start off and you can follow us. It shouldn’t take long now till we’re there.”

  “It’ll take as long as it takes, and that’s good enough for me,” the muscular male said.

  They followed us for another four miles until we reached our destination, a little picnic site where I had arranged to meet another two couples. One of the couples didn’t show, as does happen all too often, but the muscular male and his friend had been talking to their other friends over their mobile phones and soon enough, reinforcements arrived.

  It seemed only fitting that I undressed first as I had set the whole thing up. I lay naked on top of the picnic table ushering the muscular male forward. He hesitated, obviously nervous. But cometh the hour cometh the man. His weedy friend pushed him to one side and stood in-between my open legs.

  “I hope you’ll be as good at this as you are changing tyres.”

  “Better,” he said. He was a man of few words, which was fine with me and even finer when he dropped his pants. He was the proud owner of the biggest manhood I had ever seen. He was certainly no fingers and thumbs as he stretched me to my limits and the party really got started.

  “He’s not wearing a condom,” by husband said.

  “Just this once,” I gasped, “just this one time.”

  The weedy man continued to buck and thrust inside me bringing me to new heights of passion with his bareback frenzy.

  Soon I felt the warmth of his sticky love fluid shooting inside of me. It was a feeling I never wanted to let go of and probably would have held on to longer, if not for my husband, handing me a handy wipe.

  “If you can’t be too careful, at least you can freshen up” he said a little grumpily.

  He was right. It’s always good to be careful, but once in a while even the best of us can’t help throwing caution to the wind.

  That night I had eight men and one woman throwing caution, mostly to the wind. In my eyes it was the pinnacle of my holiday and my dogging experiences, even though I had other fun around Scotland on that holiday, from action with a couple of bikers, on a well-known supermarket car park, to fun just outside a famous castle, after midnight, with a first time swinging couple. That dogging, touring holiday had it all.

  Chapter Five

  We started our exploits on a beach and that’s where we’re going to bow out, at least in written word. It was another northwest beach and, proving, like most people, we do break our own rules. The dogging in question took place in the daytime hours.

  It was a lovely sunny day in May when my husband and I went to spend the day having a picnic in the dunes at a Merseyside beach. We’d heard it attracted a few dogging fans, it was even seen by quite a few people as a kind of unofficial nudist beach. I could certainly see why when we got there. The sun was beating down and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Even if there had been, the dunes would have held ample opportunity to hide away.

  Almost instantly I decided to go topless, there didn’t seem any harm in it, seeing as there was nobody about, but after an hour of the sun beating down on my firm breasts, and my husband listening to god knows what on his headphones, a head popped up from nowhere, only to quickly duck back down when it thought it had been seen.

  “I hope it doesn’t offend you, my sunbathing topless?” I asked.

  The head began to rise up slowly. “No, it doesn’t offend me, it doesn’t offend me at all,” he said nervously. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was watching you.”

  “I wouldn’t care if you were,” I said with a giggle. “And don’t mind my husband. He’s in seventh heaven if he’s got his headphones on. He doesn’t care what I do. Why don’t you come a little closer? I don’t want to spend the day sunbathing and shouting.”

  He came closer, nervously eyeing up both me and my husband.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I won’t bite, at least not unless you want me to.”

  “I’m just taking in a bit of sun,” he said.

  “I can see that,” I said, admiring his lean tanned body. I put him in the age bracket of about mid-twenties, maybe a bit less. I didn’t even find out his name, but when I pulled my bikini bottoms to one side to allow him a peek at my pouting pussy, all introductions seemed to become irrelevant.

  “That’s wonderful,” he said.

  “Do you think? Would you like to touch?”

  He moved towards me, his hands outstretched, licking his lips and then stopped. He looked towards my husband.

  “I told you he’s okay.” I said, doing my best to assure him.

  Finally he was assured when my husband nodded and smiled.

  “How does that feel?” I asked as I took his hand and placed it onto my pussy lips.”

  “Brilliant,” he said, as he wasted no time plunging his fingers deeper into my wetness. But suddenly he flinched away.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. And then I noticed the wetness seeping through his shorts. He’d suffered a premature ejaculation. “Don’t worry,” I said. “It happens all the time. We can soon fix that.” I undid his shorts and took him into my mouth. I soon had him back up to speed again and raring to go.

  We must have had a good hour and a half session that day. My husband even managed to prize himself away from his music for a bit to join in the fun. But all good things must come to an end.

  “We’d better go,” I said as I saw the kite soaring up in the distance. “We’ve had some fun, but there are others on the beach now.”

  The male nodded, smiled and went upon his way, as did my husband and I.

  And we’re still going upon our way now. Maybe sometime in the future you’ll bump into us while we’re on that way. Who knows what will happen in the future…..who knows…….

  Bonus Story

  It Wasn’t An Affair

  By Heidi Flow © 2016

  My wife just won’t listen. How can I tell her it wasn’t an affair when she won’t listen? It’s not that I’m not familiar with banging my head against a brick wall when it comes to matters with her, but this time it’s serious. I need her to listen. But of course she won’t. No matter how I plead or try, my words simply fall on deaf ears. She’s got an idea in her mind and it simply won’t budge. It’s sat there like a giant rock from a cave in and no matter how I try to scramble over it; there simply isn’t enough room to get through, or rather to get my point through. No matter how I try to drag that rock in her mind away, it simply won’t budge, not an inch, which is just like my wife in general.

  She wasn’t always so obtuse. There had been a time when she would listen and see some kind of reason, instead of me just listening and seeing her reason, for whatever was wrong or right in her eyes at the time.

  Or maybe she wasn’t ever listening. Maybe I’ve been seeing everything through rose tinted glasses. There’s a part of me that always does that. It’s got me into trouble before and no doubt, it will do again.

  “Who is she?” my wife asked. “Who is the woman in the pictures?”

  “I can explain,” I replied.

  “Sure you can,” she said, but she didn’t allow me to explain. By the time she’d finished talking, or rather shouting, I’d forgotten what I was goin
g to say, and even if I hadn’t forgotten, I would have been too scared to tell the truth. My wife can be a scary woman when she wants and sometimes when she doesn’t want. A scary woman indeed.

  “You’re having an affair,” she screamed.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “But I’m genuinely not having an affair,” I pleaded.

  “Then how do you explain all these pictures I found of this woman in a red dress? And you even had the cheek to bring her dress here and hide it amongst your clothes. But I found it. Once I found these pictures I knew I was on the right trail. There’s been lots of funny stuff going on behind my back recently. Some of my own dresses having been going missing, then turning back up all baggy. Has the fat trollop in those pictures been wearing them? Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

  It was then, out of sheer panic, frustration, or madness, I’m not sure which, that I snatched the dress out of her hand and put it on. I took a selfie in exactly the same pose that I had taken the pictures my wife had found.

  “There you go,” I said to my wife. “That’s who was in the pictures, that’s who I was having an affair with. Do you recognise them now? Well, what have you got to say?”

  But my wife said nothing. For once she was speechless.

  Bonus Story

  No Smoke Without Fire

  By Heidi Flow © 2016

  Mary and Joy sat side by side looking dead ahead. They were on their lunch break. Limp and lacklustre sandwiches sat on their knees in buds of unfolded tinfoil. Around them dull, middle of the road music drifted up from the shop floor and invaded the small, tatty room they spent most of their lunch breaks in.

  “I’m getting fed up of him,” Joy said, looking nothing like her name implied.

  “Who?” Mary asked.

  “Who do you think?”

  “I don’t know, the prime minister, prince what’s his name, the pope?”

  “You know very well who I mean.” Joy’s eyes narrowed, but still she sat looking straight ahead.

  “No I don’t.”

  “Yes you do. I mean him.”

  “Oh him,” Mary said as the penny finally dropped. “You’re boyfriend.”

  “That’s the one. Although I don’t think he’s going to be my boyfriend much longer.”

  “Why’s that? Do you think he’s going to dump you?”

  “No,” Joy almost screamed, while her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. She still however, did not turn to face Mary and Mary still did not turn to face her. There was a silence for a time until Joy said, “I’m going to dump him.”

  “Are you now?”

  “Yes,” Joy was adamant.

  “But I thought you said you were good together?”

  “I did, but that was then, this is now.”

  “So what’s changed? You said he had a body like a god, which he does, you said he was kind and considerate, which he seems to be and you also said he was well hung and could go on for ages, which I don’t know anything about, but I’m willing to take your word for it.”

  “He is, he’s all those things, but there’s also something else, he likes to do things.”

  “What kind of things?” Mary asked.

  “Things.”

  “Like fishing, or drinking?”

  “He likes to strip totally naked and wait on me hand and foot.”

  “The boyfriend with the body of a god wants to wait on you hand and foot and this is a bad thing?”

  “He obeys my every command.”

  “Still not a bad thing,” Mary was adamant.

  “But in between those commands he just waits there, bent over on his hands and knees.”

  “Still naked?” Mary asked, licking her lips.”

  “Totally naked. But while he’s there,” Joy stopped mid-sentence.

  “Bent over, totally naked waiting on your every command?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, it’s what he asks me to do.”

  “What does he ask you to do?”

  For the first time in the conversation Joy moved her gaze from simply forward looking, to look left and right to check that nobody else was there or listening. “He asks me to use him.”

  “Use him?”

  “Yes, use him. As an ash tray.”

  “As an ash tray?”

  “Yes.”

  “So how does that work then?” Mary asked after a brief pause.

  “He just gets me to flick my ash on him, on his back, or on his backside. I mean, I don’t burn him or anything.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I just flick my ash on him. He can stay like that for hours on end.”

  “He must end up with quite a bit of ash on him.”

  “Pile him up with ash and he’s as happy as Larry,” Joy said.

  “Larry being your previous boyfriend?”

  “Yes, he’s as happy as him. Except Larry didn’t bend over naked on all fours while I flicked my ash on him. Oh and that’s another thing, he liked to hold my packet of cigarettes in his mouth so I could take one out when I was ready to light one up.”

  “At least he wouldn’t be able to talk through your soaps when you were watching them.”

  “Exactly. It was the perfect relationship really. He even bought all my cigarettes. I never had to put my hand in my pocket when it came to buying a pack.”

  “So what went wrong? He’s the perfect boyfriend, with the perfect body, buys you all the cigarettes you want, and doesn’t talk while you’re watching your soaps.”

  “Something went wrong, believe you and me, something went very wrong,” Joy said sadly.

  “So you say, but what?”

  “I gave up smoking and he doesn’t like it. We’ve grown apart because of it and last night I finished with him because of it.”

  “So you’ve already finished with him and you’re not getting back together?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “That’s sad,” Mary said and stood.

  “Where are you going?” Joy asked. “Lunch isn’t finished yet, there’s still twenty minutes left.”

  “I know, but I fancy nipping down the shops. I’m going to get a pack of cigarettes or two.”

  “But you don’t smoke.”

  “I didn’t do, but I fancy taking it up. Everybody has got to have a hobby. By the way, what’s your boyfriend, or rather ex boyfriend’s number?”

  Bonus

  The first chapter of Her First Time Dogging by Heidi Flow

  Chapter One

  Any marriage can get boring; we all need a little spice now and then, no matter how we might try to deny it to ourselves and others. For a good few years my wife and I were happy to kid ourselves along that everything was just fine and peachy. But it wasn’t fine and it wasn’t peachy, far from it. We were stuck in the never ending grind of work and bill paying, with no time for anything good or each other. Something had to change, and in the end it did change, quite radically.

  The first part of our change came in the form of our mortgage. Rising interest rates meant we couldn’t pay it. Or at least we couldn’t pay it without maxing out our credit cards and then getting new credit cards, to help us keep up with the debt on the first credit cards. It was a never ending circle of debt and despair no matter how hard we worked. And then there was the boredom, the never ending tedious, gut wrenching boredom.

  The second part of the change came into play when I picked up some extra work as a security guard on nights. I was already working all the hours I could in my day job, so a night job was neither healthy nor sane, but a necessity none the less. I managed to squeeze in a hardly ample four hours sleep after the trek home from my day job before my night work started. The sad state of affairs was because of this I didn’t see my wife at all, but at least the bills were getting paid and without the aid of credit cards. The funny thing is, while I was away doing my nights, my wife and I actually started talking aga
in, I mean real talking, just for the fun of it, not talking about work, the mortgage or bills, but just talking for the pleasure between two people, just like it used to be before the sludge of everyday life began to grind our gears down.

  “There’s nothing on the television,” my wife said as we spoke over the mobile phone.

  “At least you’ve got a television to watch,” I replied. “The only thing I’ve got to look at is the rows of monitors where I sit watching the outside world go by.”

  “And what is the outside world like over there?”

  “The same as it is six miles away back home where you are, pretty boring,” I replied.

  “I wish you were here with me now.”

  “I wish I was there with you now.”

  “I find it hard to sleep in the house alone,” she said.

  “I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes open.” I laughed.

  “Maybe you could get forty winks on the job?”

  “It wouldn’t be worth it. There are cameras all over this place, inside and out. No doubt there is someone somewhere watching me on a monitor as I watch other people on this monitor. Not that there’s many people about.”

  “How many people are about out there this time of night?”

  “None.”

  “None?”

  “What did you expect? It’s the witching hour and this place is smack bang in the middle of nowhere, in the cold countryside.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” my wife said. “It’s not cold at all. It’s the height of summer and it’s boiling.”

  “Everything just looks so cold on these monitor screens,” I sighed.

  “What can you see?”

  “Trees, more trees and yet more trees. Oh and a few bushes.”

  “And that’s all you can see?”

  “That’s about the sum of it. That and a small car park with no cars apart from mine, because everybody is at home apart from me.”

  “I wish you were at home.”

  “So you’ve already told me, but it’s always nice to hear, no matter how many times you say it.”