by Peter Birch
You of course would be forgiven for wondering why my first response was not panic, and in truth I was a little unnerved, however my invisible state that day did not come as a complete surprise. Sure, I had assumed that the man I had met the night before at my cousin’s wedding was a raving lunatic, probably a casualty of one too many mind altering substances in his time, but I had enjoyed the conversation anyway, as I always did. His outrageous tales of necklaces and creeping into public bathrooms - unseen and unseeable - were fascinating. I had let him speak at length, enjoying the fuel for my private fantasies and so as not to offend, accepted the gift of the tarnished silver chain and pendant. It had an inscription I couldn’t read and it did not seem particularly valuable or attractive. I guess I must have put it around my neck for safe keeping and forgotten to take it off before I fell asleep.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, just to be sure, I removed the pendant and put it back on a few times, my confidence growing as I watched my reflection flicker in and out of sight. Still unsure as to how to take advantage of the situation, I decided to leave the house to check if this was simply some kind of delusional episode I was having, perhaps the result of too much time living in my own head with my frustrated desires. Establishing the reality of my invisibility proved trickier than I had imagined. I was afraid to simply walk up to someone and speak for fear of frightening them and perhaps causing them to lash out, and I assumed that my inability to be seen did not mean an inability to be hurt. Likewise, I didn’t want to risk picking up an object. Either it would become invisible on contact with me like my clothing had and so tell me nothing, or some poor soul would be convinced of a poltergeist encounter for the rest of their life. I needed to do something that would produce a reaction only if someone were able to see me. Thinking about my clothing gave me an idea.
I wouldn’t have taken a risk like this if I hadn’t been fairly sure I truly was invisible at the time. I didn’t feel psychotic and I had passed plenty of people on my way down the street, nodding and smiling at as many as I could and had gotten no reaction. I realised this was no evidence as such, London is not a notoriously friendly place and many prefer to keep themselves to themselves, I think deep down though, I already believed.
Confident my plan would clear things up either way, I turned into the beer garden of my local pub. There was no one about I recognised and I was far enough from people that I could run and escape if it turned out my instinct was wrong. I wouldn’t have to run far, just far enough to call myself an ambulance and have myself admitted for immediate psychiatric evaluation. Making sure I was in sight of the six or so tables of people, but to one side enough that no one could accidently walk into me on their way to the bar, I reached down and grasped the lower edge of my T-shirt. Keeping a close eye on the people around me I quickly pulled it over my head, exposing my upper torso and plain black sports bra. Holding my breath and braced to run, I looked around me.
Nothing. No one so much as looked in my direction. I wondered if perhaps due to the hot summer’s day, a sports bra might be considered acceptable public attire for a woman. I wasn’t particularly low cut or lacy and maybe could be mistaken for a high cut half top. Oh well, moment of truth then, I reached behind me and unhooked a small clasp, then pulled it over my head also, exposing my breasts to the entire beer garden of afternoon drinkers. I waited, in case I had just not been spotted yet.
Still nothing. I nearly squealed out loud with delight. No one could see me! I was really, really invisible! Also it dawned on me I was really, really half naked, in public. Quickly I stashed my clothes behind a bush and looked around myself in wonder. I ran my hands lightly over my nipples which had grown hard in the slight summer breeze. In my wildest fantasies I hadn’t dared to imagine being unclothed so close to this many people. The problem was, no one could see me and it occurred to me I might as well be at home naked and alone. My excitement and frustration growing I wondered how I could make myself feel less invisible without the risk of getting caught. Figuring there was no reason not to, I slipped off my shoes and reached to unbutton my jeans, sliding them down over my hips while grasping the tops of my panties and removing the rest of my clothes in one swift movement. These joined my top and bra behind the bush. Now entirely naked, I evaluated the crowd.
There was a mixed group of older men and women all engaged deeply in conversation, three younger girls drinking brightly coloured jugs of cheap looking cocktails, a pair of youngish men chatting and looking up every so often as if they were waiting for more to join them, and one lone man who looked to be in his early thirties who was sat reading a book and nursing a pint. I decided he was the one. Careful to stay quiet, I moved towards him. He was sat at a table with a bench either side of it. Carefully I sat on the bench opposite him, making as little movement as possible. I wasn’t too worried, if you felt your table shift slightly or heard a sound from nowhere, your first thought was unlikely to be that an invisible woman had sat down near you, and you would have a hard time proving it even if it was. Staring at the man, I leaned forward slightly and started to massage my breasts. He continued to read his book.
Unsatisfied and more frustrated than ever, I decided to climb up on his table to get closer to him. The table moved a little as I did, but he seemed too absorbed in his book to notice. I shuffled carefully forward on my knees, spreading my legs a little until my cunt was as near to his face as I dared to get. Once positioned I slid my fingers down to my pussy lips, smearing the wetness that was gathering there over my clit a little, then spreading my inner lips wide. Silently I waited for a few moments, watching his face, not moving. I saw his expression of confusion as he looked up. Rapid shots of pleasure coursed through my lower belly and womb and I knew he had caught the scent of my wetness. This was what I wanted, I had needed him to detect my presence somehow, to be aware of me, and now he was, even if he had no idea I was naked and real and inches from his face.
Suppressing a moan, I angled my hips forward a little, daring to get closer while lightly teasing the very tip of my clit, making gentle fluttering motions with my fingers. I noticed a flush was tingeing the man’s upper cheeks. He may not know where the scent was coming from, but it was clearly having its effect. Whether it was the pheromones I was exuding while so turned on or just an animal response to the scent of clean, wet pussy I wasn’t sure. Afraid to lean forward I moved my eyes downwards as far as I could to attempt to see if there was a bulge pushing against his trouser fly but he took me by surprise by shifting in his seat, which satisfied my curiosity but forced me to pull back to avoid the tip of his nose grazing my pelvis. More excited than I remember being in my life and in a playful mood, I swivelled around so my behind was facing him rather than my cunt and pulled my cheeks apart to find out if he would catch the scent of that. Bending over a little to ensure full access I heard him cough uncomfortably and considered that to be a yes. The sensation of being naked, wet and bent over with my arsecheeks spread was almost too much for me.
Removing one hand from my behind I thrust two fingers into my pussy, pushing deep into myself and out again with the heel of my hand pushed hard against my clit. Overwhelmed, I came with a cry and fell headfirst off of the table, grazing my cheek and causing the man to jump up in shock at the phantom noise. Excitement relieved for now, my nerve vanished and I decided it was time to make an exit. I didn’t bother to gather my clothes as I raced towards the exit, trying to ignore the raw feeling of my feet against concrete and the painful bounce of my unsupported boobs. I couldn’t go on like that very long and shortly after clearing the pathway past the pub I was forced to slow down to a walk. Heading for home I became aware of my thighs slipping together where my excitement had leaked from my cunt and spread between my legs. Smiling, I touched the pendant around my neck and realised that all this time I had been thinking about the invisibility question all wrong. The possibilities were turning me on all over again. After all, you can’t catch what you ca
n’t see.
Sex In The Sunshine - Some Helpful Hints From Peter Birch
The beautiful young couple lie on the fine, tropical sand, backlit by a glorious sunset as stirring yet faintly melancholic music drifts down the beach, mingled with the carefree laughter of frolicsome natives. He whispers soft words into her ear, they kiss, roll together, and as two become one they discover that the fine tropical sand has got up her fanny. Their resulting screams attract the frolicsome natives, who stand around laughing as they streak for the sea to cover their modesty and cool their aching parts, then nick their stuff.
For many this, or variants thereof, will be an all too familiar scenario. I recall my teenage delight on discovering that rubbing sunblock into a friend’s back had rendered her eager for entry, but I also recall the difficulty of attempting to fuck her as she lay on a steeply sloping shelf of rock with the texture of sandpaper, and our mutual awkwardness on the unexpected arrival of a third party. Then there was the slow, sensual hand job I received one hot summer’s day in a hayfield. I forget the girl, I forget the place, but I will remember the pain of sunburnt genitalia as long as I live. Or there was the incident on Kos when a promising outdoor spanking session was interrupted by a coachload of German tourists. They took pictures.
No doubt any but the luckiest or least adventurous of readers has had similar experiences, because there are two major problems with outdoor sex, nature and other people, both of which need to be taken into account in order to achieve a happy ending. Not that planning is necessarily enough. On the occasion with the German tourists we’d carefully selected the loneliest beach on the island, across over a mile of dirt track and hidden by dunes, yet still they came. Nevertheless, planning is good.
Nature can be broadly divided into three categories, inanimate objects, flora and fauna. All of them can be a pain in the arse, often quite literally. All of them can also be highly stimulating, although it’s generally considered bad taste to use the local fauna as sex aids, not to mention being illegal more often than not. The biggest, baddest and best inanimate object is the sun itself, often an essential ingredient of outdoor fun but always a potential problem, so -
Tip No 1 - Use sun block, lots of sun block, which not only prevents you from getting roasted but is great for foreplay and has interesting possibilities as a lubricant, always bearing in mind that it’s not intended to be used internally.
Other inanimate objects tend to relate to discomfort, often aided and abetted by flora; stones, sand, thorns, falling coconuts etc etc. Such things can usually be avoided, or overcome, by a bit of common sense. The same is doubly true if fauna start getting involved as well as flora, be it an ants’ nest or a squad of slugs, a charging goat or a raging bull, you’re going to need very peculiar tastes indeed to appreciate their unexpected application to your bare bottom, so -
Tip No 2 - Choose your ground. It may be romantic to fall to the ground in a passionate embrace, lost to everything but each other, but the rest of the world is soon going to intrude if the ground turns out to be a bed of cactus, or a bull’s field, for more reasons than one.
Not that there’s always an easy option, but in all but the most inhospitable of environments you can usually make it, as long as you follow -
Tip No 3 - Choose your position. Missionary is generally a bad option, as it involves a lot of body contact with the ground and pussies should, with certain exceptions, be kept free of foreign objects. Doggy style reduces ground contact, standing up better still, but it does make it rather obvious what you’re up to.
And that brings me nicely to the main difficulty with al fresco sex, other people. Okay, people are technically part of the fauna, but let’s not split hairs. Nobody ever got arrested for indecency by a badger. Other people get everywhere, and have a nasty habit of popping up when they’d least wanted, like the Germans. If you like to be watched, that’s fine, but remember you have little or no choice over who does the watching, and without wishing to get bogged down in moral minutae, there are situations in which getting stark naked and fucking like rabbits is out of order. The middle of a churchyard as a funeral service comes out, for example, so -
Tip No 4 - Be discreet, or prepare to get arrested. Long experience of outdoor sex and nudity has taught me that most people don’t mind, so long as you have made at least some effort at concealment.
That said, there’s a minority of officious, self-important busybodies who’ll report you if you’re having a cuddle in your own garden and they’re watching through a powerful telescope from several miles away, in event of which, use -
Tip No 5 - Moral outrage: if you provoke it, response with more of the same. Remember, whatever the circumstances, you have had your privacy invaded and they are a dirty, sneaking Peeping Tom. Stick to your line and this works surprisingly well, take it from me.
The exception is when you are accosted not by the aforementioned officious, self-important busybody, but by the guardians of law and order, so -
Tip No 6 - Always be polite to those in authority. This applies to park rangers, lifeguards, even traffic wardens, but most especially to the police. Smile sheepishly, apologise, and you’ll probably just get moved along. Punch the officer in the nose and you’ll get arrested.
Polite, yes, and being a smug git can cause almost as much offence as a punch in the nose, but it does help to know what you can and cannot get away with, depending on where you are and what you’re doing, hence -
Tip No 7 - Know your law. For example, in the UK, nudity is not an offence in itself, but the law is complex, somewhat arbitrary and open to interpretation. Other nations and cultures are more easy going, but there are places you can get locked up for a fleeting, moonlit kiss, so make sure you have at least a rough idea of the consequences of getting caught.
That covers the great majority of the people you’re likely to encounter, but two important categories remain. I was once out dogging with two young ladies when a car pulled up next to us, also containing one man and two girls, which suggested that the evening might get very exciting indeed. It did, but the threats of assault and subsequent car chase weren’t quite what I’d had in mind, and that’s why you need -
Tip No 8 - Watch out for nutters. Be they religious, be they jealous, or be they just plain bonkers, there are people who get seriously wound up by other people having sex.
Had they wanted to join us, things might have gone very differently, so -
Tip No 9 - Be cool. Some people are going to want to watch, even to join in, especially if you’re being very public about what you’re doing. How you handle this is up to you, but you’re not going to get the same respect for your privacy as you would in your bedroom, so while you always have the right to refuse, do keep calm.
So, all to the good. You’ve chosen a cosy place for a nice quiet fuck, doggy style and with no more chance of being seen than gets you off. Everything is perfect, until the unexpected arrival of some inconsiderate celebrity out jogging with a retinue of minders while pursued by a posse of paparazzi and with a police helicopter in attendance, in which case -
Tip No 10 - Never, ever take off more clothes than you’d care to be seen wearing while sprinting down a main road, and always be ready to run!
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