The other day whilst thinking of content for this humble musing, I started to think over not just my successes but also my missed opportunities. Anyone who is successful at anything will probably give the same advice ‘always learn from your mistakes’. This is sound advice unless like me you are someone who makes his lion’s share of his mistakes whilst under the influence of drugs and/or alcohol. I also started to reflect on all my experiences of having sex in public places and have found an interesting correlation between blowing it with birds – being shit faced – shagging in public.
Now those of you who know me will probably know me because you met me at either a rave or a festival, which is where I spend the majority of my leisure time. Interestingly enough though, I could probably count on one hand not using many fingers, how many birds I’ve ended up shagging from frequenting these social gatherings, which I find odd because I’m usually on my finest of form when I’m attending them. There have however been a lot of occasions, especially at festivals where on reflection I have totally missed my cue to net a bird.
One that mainly sticks out in my mind at the minute was at a festival a few summers back, I was strolling around with my near full bladder of Westerns vintage hanging from my side, swigging leisurely as I soaked in the atmosphere, poking my head into the different music tents, bathing in the glorious August sunshine, smile on my face, not a care in the world, grateful that I was a young man who was alive at that moment. When from the horizon I saw a bird who I recognized. She came walking towards me, we made eye contact, acknowledged that we recognized each other and she then flipped me the bird. ‘Bloody hell that’s charming init!?’ I said with a laugh. ‘Arent you (insert name here) from (insert area of the UK here)’ she replied inquisitively. ‘No but I recognize you from Bangface, also I think I spoke to you at Glastonbury last year…’ We chat for a few minutes then part knowing we’ll bump into each other again, after another hours stroll we do, but this time just a friendly hello and a dig in the arm from her, which I take in good humour.
As the afternoon wore on and the sun was lowering in sky and my bladder of high proof, delicious, vintage cider was nearing empty, my ramble of the festival site was turning into more of a drunken stupor, which would hopefully lead to finding a friend who would listen to my nonsense ranting and take me to get something to eat. But then I bumped into her one more time. She approaches me at this particular tent that was blaring out Jungle and reggae all weekend. Again we chat for a while, she then says ‘Do you want to come and sit down over here with me and hang out for a bit?’ Stumbling back and probably spitting whilst I said it I responded with ‘Nah I’m alright I’m just going to go over here and find this thing’… or words to that effect, and left her standing there.
It wasn’t until later that evening whilst back at my tent, scoffing down a burrito that I started to realise a few things. When talking to this bird she was laughing at every word I was saying, kept touching my arm and being overly friendly, inviting me to sit with her. Even that opening line on saying that she thought she knew me from somewhere was a good icebreaker. ‘She was trying to chat me up!’ I bellowed. ‘Bollocks!… This is all your fault!’ I screamed at my now empty plastic bladder of cider, launching it into the sea of tents surrounding me, whilst my friends watched me with puzzled and concerned looks upon their faces.
Ok that last part didn’t happen, but this is a prime example of what I get like when I’m at these kinds of places. Ironically at that same festival on the first night an incredibly gurned up, wasted bird, stumbled into my path chewing her face off; rubbing my leg, taking me by the hand leading me away from my friends, talking bollocks and getting a bit too close for comfort. ‘I need to get rid of you before you get me into trouble love’ I thought aloud until someone from the distance called her name and I made a dash for it whilst she was distracted.
There was also this other occasion a few years ago at the Bangface weekender, which for those of you who don’t know is a festival in a chalet holiday park. We all got friendly with our neighbors, as is the custom at any festival. Whilst sat in their chalet watching the cup final I started to get a bit friendly with this bird sitting next to me, as we got a bit closer the signal on the telly gave out, when a few smacks tot the top of the set didn’t work I left the chalet. again later that weekend she saw me from her door, came bounding up giving me a big kiss and cuddle, I went into her chalet, saw it was filled with wasted people, was sensing the atmosphere could put me on a bad trip and ran away. Later that weekend a friend of mine said to me ‘Did you hear about the bird from that chalet? She shagged (insert name I cant remember here) from their chalet. Yea apparently she’s a right sex pest and does this all the time…’ ‘Bollocks! Sex pest!? Does it all the time!? That’s pretty much every bird I’ve ever shagged how have I missed this open goal?’ This missed opportunity was not from necessarily being wasted but from what I call being in ‘festival mode’ where I don’t think about sex at all and my penis takes a bit of time off knowing that I’m clearly having enough fun as it is… This is also my excuse for going flaccid when trying to have sex on drugs.
It’s not all failure at festivals for me though, I remember pulling a bird at a festival once who I ended up having a rather memorable saucy encounter in my tent with. Whilst fumbling around, whispering sweet filth into each others ears she asked to lick my arse. Now baring in mind this was the Saturday night of a 4 day camping festival I thought ‘blimey! You’re brave’ What was even more commendable of her was how enthusiastic and probing her rimming skills turned out to be. I thought it be only gentlemanly of me to return the favour. I also remember in that same steamy encounter whilst we were having sex she kept asking me to slap her arse, I was being a bit cautious of the sound levels and was delivering modest slaps. Until she told me to slap her arse as hard as I could, to which I channeled Alan Partridge in my response… ‘Errrm, I think we better think of the neighbours’
My ‘festival mode’ also applies when I’m at raves. I’ve never pulled at a rave, well I did once but she tasted like she had clearly been sick sometime during the night and it weren’t pleasant. But I put this down more to the presence of old mother alcohol, uncle ecstasy and crazy cousin Cid that have all hindered my performance. I’ve had other missed opportunities and pretty much all of them have been because I’ve been under the influence of something or another. Once whilst chopping up a few lines of k in the bogs of one rave with a bird that I knew quite well, I offered her a line and she thanked me by chewing my ear lobe and kissing my neck. ‘Behave!’ I responded and she stopped… could of got at least a blowy out of that.
Even at a bloody fetish night I fail to respond or act on advances. At a Torture Garden once – whilst on pills and very drunk of course, I was waiting for my mate to do her cat walk, fashion thing when these two older women took a liking to me, playing with the ball gag around my neck and complimenting my outfit, they then offered to lead me to the dungeon and potentially tan my hide and fuck me in ways I’d never experienced before. ‘Nah I’ve just got to wait for this to start, I’ll meet you in there’ I said. I did go looking for them, but realized straight away I couldn’t remember what they looked like. Drugs and alcohol the problem again? Or is my ‘bro’s before ho’s’ mentality just getting the better of me? It would be the former on that one, I’m pretty sure my mate would have been well alright with letting 2 women beating me up in a kinky way instead of stay and watch her walk down a catwalk in some leather.
‘You’ve been rambling on for ages! How the fuck does getting wasted all the time have anything to do with sex in public’ you are probably thinking or saying aloud at this point. Well its this, all of my experiences of shagging in public have ironically been whilst absolutely shit faced. There was this one case when coming back from a night out with a bird I was shagging at the time; the two of us were steaming pissed. I was so drunk I couldn’t even get creative with the filthy promises I was whispering in her ear, I just kept getting mind blanks. We stumbled off the bus and up an alleyway just yards from the street lights, bent her over and fucked for a few minutes. We stumbled further towards my house, laughing loudly and talking bollocks when again walking down another alley we just couldn’t help ourselves and fucked again upside a garage door. I remember the night was really cold too and most of the pleasure from the sex was coming from the fact that her pussy was so warm. Now we probably wouldn’t of done this if weren’t completely rat arsed. We would of just walked home in a civilised way and then had a bit of sex before we went to sleep.
But there was also another time back when I was 17, when drugs and alcohol used to help with my womanising abilities instead of destroy them, although looking back this tale is a lot more harrowing then it is anyway titillating.
I accompanied a mate on a visit to some family of his down in Dorchester, whilst down there we hung out with his younger cousin, who like many 15 year olds would like to spend their summer evenings with friends getting pissed down the park. So we stocked up on a few cans of lager and off we went. From what I remember of his cousin’s mates, they were exactly what you’d expect a group of 15 year olds from Dorchester to be like. However I did start to get friendly with this American bird. She was black, bookish and had pretty big tits for a girl of her size. I noticed she wasn’t drinking and offered a can, she said that she didn’t drink (I would like to say here that she came from a strict Christian background but I cant confirm this so I wont). After chatting to what seemed like only her for apparently ages I found out that a lot of the kids we were hanging out with were all from this school for gifted children and she had already taken her GCSE’s and was doing her A levels already. I dunno why but this made me think ‘I want to fuck you!’ Back in those days I didn’t have my trusty nympho-meter or kinky-counter I would just have to hope the bird would want to shag me back.
So we break from the crowd in this park over to a bench where we chat further and before long start kissing, soon this turns to fondling, I put my hand in her bra, she rubs my cock through my jeans and before long I ask if there’s anywhere quieter we could go? She leads us over to a public toilet and on a quick inspection of the gents realised it was clear to do the deed. We get into the cubicle and the kissing becomes more passionate, I sit her down then go to pull out my cock so she can suck it. When she stops me and says ‘I’ve never done this before’.. ‘What? sucked a dick?’ I respond in drunken ignorance. ‘No THIS. I’ve never been with a guy before’ to which I quickly replied ‘Well tonight’s your lucky night love!’ (I didn’t say that. I cant remember what I actually said) But without much more hesitation she did start sucking my dick, in a way that you’d expect and inexperienced girl to suck you off. Of course I did the decent thing and lied by telling her how much of a good job she was doing, a lie that I would end up telling plenty more girls who were to suck me off in future.
Before long I’ve got her big tits out of their nest and had a suck of them, I got her jeans and knickers by her ankles, eating her out as best I could within the vicinity of a 4 x 3 toilet cubicle. I then bend her over and start to fuck her, I then think about asking her if she has a condom but I’m already in her at this point, so why shut the door once the horse has bolted? I find it surprisingly easy to manoeuvre positions in such a confined space but its working and after a few rounds of do her from behind for a bit, have her sit on me, stand her up, eat her out, back to bend her over and repeat, she starts to get a bit adventurous and asks me to fuck her in the arse or ‘ass’ was how she said it. Now I’m all for a bit of anal, especially on a first date, infact I have a lot of respect for birds who do trust you with the keys to backdoor after only a few hours of meeting each other, but on this occasion and in this setting plus the half dozen cans of Carling I’d drunk, the mood just didn’t take me. After a while I started to get a bit bored and thought I better rub myself off and cum on her somewhere before her friends start to wonder where we are. I do so by wanking after every few thrusts inside her, after a while I feel that tightening between my legs, which means the Whiteman’s widow is on its way, but by this point I’m already in her and blow the majority of my load inside her cunt. She doesn’t seem to mind this and is quite happy to suck the remaining spunk off the end of my cock.
The next day on the train back I’m stuck with a bit of an odd feeling on the whole experience. My mate apparently got his fingers wet off another of her friends and his encouraging elation towards me fucking my number did make me laugh at the time and all I thought about was scoring a hat-trick on my sex bucket list – Black girl, American, Public place.
Now though I think back and I have several curiosities about that night; firstly was she really a virgin? Any bird that’s up for anal sex on what is apparently their first time must surely have done it before? Secondly she really didn’t seem to mind me unloading inside of her, that could of caused a few issues but if they had they have never come back to haunt me. What does unsettle me about the whole event though is that she’ll look back on the experience as her first time – if indeed it was. Now don’t get me wrong, my first time was in no way glamorous or romantic, it was done on a sofa in the house of a bird who’s parents were out. But that’s me and I’m a pervy scumbag. She’ll think back to her first time and remember this slobbering, drunken Londoner who didn’t even have the decency to withdraw and cum on her arse crack… I cant even remember any correspondents between the two of us after that night. But despite her taste in blokes she clearly had her head screwed on and is hopefully doing well for herself now.
Now what have I learnt from my assessment of drugs and alcohol and having sex in public? Not a lot really, just that whenever I get pissed I think having it off out doors and in public places in general is usually a good idea. The same way I might think nicking a traffic cone or whacking my bollocks out over the pocket of a pool table mid play might be a good idea. It’s not that I dont like it or don’t find it fun its just not something that really gets me going. I find the fear of getting caught more overwhelming then exciting and sometimes id rather wait till I get the girl home so I can fuck her properly. I suppose I’m just patient like that.
Then there’s the being too wasted to act on advances problem, or is it really a problem? Do I really regret any of them missed opportunities? No not really, I was already having a lot of fun being wasted. I’ve met all my best mates whilst being off my tits. As for sex, well you don’t really need sex do you? I mean its great when its there but you and your sanity will survive without it, unlike it would without food or water or your mates.
In conclusion I still love getting shit faced, because unlike with sex I can do it whenever and wherever I like, with whomever I want and enjoy it immensely. As for you birds, if I’m wasted and you find me charming just tell me straight up and lets get down to it otherwise you’ll probably end up disappointed.
Public sex – Good when I’m trollied
Drugs and alcohol – Good all the time!
Play me out Mozzer…