The Accidental Doggers

As the demon's blade causes my character to drop dead for the tenth time this evening, I bang the corner of my desk with my fist. "God-fucking-damn it. I'm done."

"It's just a game, dear," says Hannah from the sofa in our bedroom. She's got my mum's accent and intonation down to a tee.

I put down my controller with exaggerated calmness and swivel the office chair around. "What you reading?" I ask.

"Why Your Boyfriend Sucks at Video Games by Ornstein and Smough," she says, showing me the cover. It's actually a book on anime fantasy art.

"Let's do something. It's Friday night," I say. Gaming has suddenly lost its attraction.

She looks at the clock doubtfully. It's already past eleven.

"Sex?" she asks.

"Obviously," I reply. "I mean something before sex."

She flicks her phone on. "I'll check the local cinema. Their midnight movie is...The Sound of Music sing-a-long. Not exactly foreplay, is it?"

"Clubbing?" I ask.

"God, no!" she says. "Now that I've got you, I'm never putting myself back on that meat market."

"I thought you liked dancing," I say.

"Yeah, but these days I can dance naked in our living room to my own choice of music with only one pervert letching over me."

"Are we getting old?" I ask.

Her eyes glance towards our mutually owned statuette of Princess Peach in a go-kart which stands proudly on our bedroom window. "I don't think so," she says cautiously.

She plays with her phone a little bit more, scanning for local events. Eventually, she throws it down in frustration. "I tell you what, why don't we go for a drive?"

"A-ha," I cry. "Weare getting old."

"No, no," she replies. "Quite the opposite. Let's do a teenage evening. We'll grab some beers from the co-op. We drive out into the countryside and find some isolated spot and, you know...relive our youth. We've still got some of that weed from last week."

"Alright then," I reply. "We can even share some kebab meat and chips from Angelo's."

"Angelo's is crap," she replies, but she's already off the sofa.

"Of course it is. That's why it's still open when all the decent places have shut." I reach for my jacket and in under three minutes we're driving off.

Half an hour later and we pull into a secluded area surrounded by trees. It's an area we know because Hannah's taken us out here for her fantasy artwork. It has appeared as a 'glade' in some of her pictures, but that took a fair bit of imagination on her part. There was some kind of wholesalers here years ago, but now the car park is almost completely overgrown with weeds. The three sides which are not the derelict warehouse are quite picturesque though.

Taking the Citroen is a good idea. Not so much because the old banger is evocative of an earlier period in our relationship and more because it needs a run out and using it now will keep the smell of greasy fast food out of the Toyota for the rest of the week. We're officially a two-car couple, but we both work at the same place, so we rarely have the need for the backup. Usually, when I work late, Hannah goes to the company gym and when she's working late, I pretend to go to the gym and play my Switch instead. We mostly muddle by with one car.

I turn the inside light on and unwrap the chips. Hannah scoops up a fork, grabs a lump of meat, and dips it in the sauce.

"This is regular mayonnaise, not garlic mayo," she complains after the first mouthful.

I shrug. "Angelo's going to Angelo. What beer did you get?"

She'd done the supermarket while I'd run into the chippy. She reaches down beneath the seat and hands over a can from a six-pack of value cider.

"In honour of our rebellious teenage years," she says, cracking hers open. I make a face, but clink my can together with hers.

We sit in silence eating and drinking. We make short work of the food, but about three sips in, I wind down the window and dump the rest of the cider out onto the broken tarmac.

Now I've finished eating, I can put my arm around her.

Once she's done as well, she reaches into the glovebox and pulls out the weed. She rolls us each a spliff and we sit there smoking.

"What you thinking about?" I ask.

"The Final Battle of the White Dragons," she says. The nice thing about being in a relationship with a comic book artist, even a hobbyist one, is they can occupy themselves for hours in their own imagination without needing much effort from their romantic partner.

There's another pause. "This is nice," she finally says.

Itis nice. Just her and me and no worries. It's nice that we have the whole weekend ahead of us.

She takes my hand from round my neck and places it inside her blouse. I slip it inside her bra and give her tit a little squeeze.

I've done my share of fondling and squeezing, licking and worshipping of her breasts over the years, for sure, but it's been a while since I gave her a good old-fashioned grope. It feels more transgressive than erotic.

She reaches a hand round her back and releases the clasp. The bra stays on under her tight clothing, but I now get a little more give to play with. I tweak a nipple.

Hannah leans over and kisses me. The taste of chips and cheap cider on her lips, mixed with dope smoke is indeed very nostalgic. It's a proper young person snog, all tongue and lips -- an unrefined attack attempting to devour me.

Now it's her turn to grope. Her hand is on my jeans. She tries to slip it in, fails, and then unzips me. If she calls me out on it, I'm going to blame the fact I already have an erection and not the fact that I'm starting a late-twenties gut. Bless her though, she ignores this and starts to wank my cock without us breaking lips. Her hands are gentle as if it's just a sideshow, the focus for both of us is still very much on the battle of our tongues.

She withdraws for a moment, reaches further down, and, just as I'm wondering what she's searching for, she finds the metal bar and slides my seat all the way back. I reach for the other mechanism and move the back into the reclining position. Hannah doesn't come back up. Instead, she starts to blow me.

I've known Hannah long enough to know when a blowjob is a starter and when it's a main course. I half-heartedly say things like "We could...", and "If you want to...", but we both know she's there for the duration. That said, I'm not sure if she's doing the naive, young girl version of head, if the alcohol and weed have really gotten to her, or if the seating position really is that uncomfortable. She's lacking her usual finesse and concentrating on getting as much of my cock into and then out of her mouth in one go as possible.

I mean, I'm not saying it's bad. It's pretty fucking amazing. It's just very ten out of ten for enthusiasm, but only about a three for technical prowess. Not like Hannah at all.

I find myself struggling for something to do with my hands. I try stroking her hair, moving a hand down her back and finally slipping it into her trousers. From our positions, I can't really get any further in than the top of her buttocks. Wherever my hands wander, Hannah just keeps going like a dynamo regardless.

So instead I focus on making little noises to let her know I'm enjoying: a moan, a 'yeah', and an occasional 'Oh God, yes'.

I lie back, take a few hits of the joint, and let her do her stuff.

When I cum, we both know it's going down her throat. She's always been a swallower, and there's not a lot of other places for it to go in this confined space anyway. She feels my orgasm mount and at the critical moment pushes her mouth all the way down on my cock. I blow my load way past her tonsils. I spasm three times and then am done. Hannah waits until she needs to breathe and then comes up.

She takes another sip of the cider, gargles it, then spits it out of the window. "That stuff is disgusting," she says. I know she means the cider, but she also wants me to ask her to clarify so she can mess with me.

"Thanks, babe," I say instead. I reach over, wipe a dollop of thick white liquid off her cheek, and suck it off the end of my finger. She looks up at me surprised.

"Mayonnaise," I say.

"Oh, right," she laughs. She's moved back into her seat now and is rehooking her bra. Then she suddenly stops.

"Hey," she says, nudging me. "See that guy over there."

I'm wiping my dick with some tissue, and it takes me a second to see who she's talking about. There's a figure over at the very edge of the deserted car park. He's looking in our direction but suddenly stops as Hannah points at him. He very noticeably adjusts his trousers, and then shuffles back off into the darkness.

"Was he...?" Hannah leaves the question hanging.

I pull the driver's seat back into position and turn on the headlights full beam. Although the whole place is illuminated, there's no one anywhere to be seen now. I turn the engine on and slowly edge the car forward to around where the guy was standing. I open the car door. Hannah pulls out her mobile phone and activates the torch. Shining it on the ground there's a large puddle of white liquid.

"I'm guessing that's not mayonnaise," I say.

"Gross," says Hannah. "What was he doing out here? Oh my God, you don't think this is one of those dogging areas, do you? He's, like, waiting around all evening to watch some couple get off."

"I doubt it," I say.

Hannah is already on her phone though. "Let's see," she says. "Dogging sites in the East Midlands. No...no...no. Where are actually are we? Fallowfield Lane. Nope, nothing."

"Probably just a passing stranger," I say. "Look, do you want to go for round two in our own bed?"

"Yeah, I think that would probably be best," says Hannah.

So that's what we do.

It's two weeks later. Last weekend was taken up with a friend's wedding and we spent the whole of it in Oxfordshire. Now we're back in our normal Friday night routine. We both get off early and head home. It's Hannah's turn to cook.

"What you making?" I ask her as I come into the kitchen. I've changed out of my work clothes into something more comfortable.

"Popcorn," she says.

"That sounds..."

"Popcorn for movie night, and then I thought we'd go and get food afterwards. It's better than eating now and then you deciding you want it later and us doing a double dinner again."

"So, what you're saying is your laziness is for my own benefit," I say.

"Bingo. We can even get Angelo's if you insist."

Boy, she really doesn't want to cook.

"Fine," I say. "Get Netflix on and see what's good."

We settle on a Pixar movie and it's not up to their usual standards, but whatever. It's only once I'm back in the car with the take-away and she takes a wrong turn that I realize her plans run deeper.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"We'll eat it at Fallowfield Lane again," she says as if it's no big deal.

"We're not eating at home?" I say.

"Meh, it'll get cold," she says. "Besides, I kind of liked it last time."

"Even with the creepy dude?" I ask.

"It was like a real-life horror movie," she says. "But no, that I could have done without. Still, it was nice just hanging out outside, you know."

"Okay," I say. We don't have any weed this time, but still, I don't see the harm.

Except when we do pull into the car park, we're not the only ones there. There's a white Vauxhall parked over the other side from our previous spot. The inside light is on and there's a couple sitting there, but they're too far away to see properly.

"It's like make-out peak," Hannah says, turning the inside light on. "Pass mine would you."

We've got a full meal each tonight and she's gone for the cod. It's no great improvement and she sets it aside pointedly after only three bites.

"Wonder what the other couple are doing," Hannah says. "They're not eating."

"Not much of anything, looks like," I reply.

"She's got the window half-down," she says. "You know what that means?"

"Yes, if you're still saying this is a dogging site, it means oral sex is on offer."

"You've been doing the research?" Hannah laughs.

"If by research, you mean reading the article you left open on the office computer, yes. Whenever you do that, I generally assume there's an advert for a birthday present you want somewhere on it. Let's see, it's door open for 'come join us', it's window half-down for 'oral sex' and..."

"No, no," says Hannah, "It's window half down for 'touching allowed' and window fully down for oral sex."

"I don't think so," I say.

Hannah reaches for her phone. "Oh, wow," she says after a second. She shows me her screen.

'Carpark at Radcliff and Meadows Wholesalers (Out of Business)' is now a registered dogging site on the app. Turn off the A6204 onto Fallowfield Lane. There's even a direct link to Google Maps.

"Good site. Lots of potential. I was down there last night," she reads, "and watched a young couple perform oral sex in their red Citroen. She was young, hot and very enthusiastic. Him less so."

"You're having me on."

She hands me the phone. She's quoting verbatim. The post-dates match.

"Son of a bitch," I say.

I scroll through the rest of messages. Sunday 5th 'dogged4life' went down there and nothing happened. Tuesday 7th 'covguy' was sucked off by a blonde woman in her forties. Friday 10th 'slutwife73' reported having a very good time. It continued over two weeks, with about a fifty percent success rate reported from the various netizens.

I click off the location report and onto the 'general tips for first-time doggers' section.

"You're right," I say. "Half-down for groping, fully down for oral sex, and the interior light on for 'please watch.'"

Wordlessly Hannah reaches up and turns our inside light off. We sit there eating chips in the darkness.

Just as I'm finishing off, I see a man wander into the car park. It's not really cold, but he's huddled up and walking slowly. He passes about halfway between the two cars, sneakily looking from one to the other.

The other car flashes its lights, once, twice, and then three times. The man scurries over. He leans in to talk to the woman in the passenger seat.

A second later, he opens his belt, drops his trousers just a fraction and she's sucking his cock through the car window.

I look over at Hannah and she's in hysterics. "Oh, Jesus," she says. She's trying to shield her eyes to suggest she's not watching what's going on but she totally is.

"Okay, look, we're out of here," I say.

"Oh, hell, no," she says. "This is the craziest thing ever. Don't you want to watch and see what happens?"

"Not really, I'm a big boy. I think I already know how this ends."

"Maybe not," says Hannah. "Look here comes another one."

This guy is coming from the same direction as the original guy. Makes sense I suppose as it's townward. If the other guy was furtive, this guy is pretending to have a stroll. I say pretending because as soon as he sees what's going on by the other car, he takes up a position, leaning against a tree, and lights a cigarette. He's mainly looking that way, but every now and then he looks over at us, trying to work out what our deal is.

"Is it hot in here?" says Hannah. "Should I roll down a window?" Her hand hovers theatrically above the controls.

"Ha, ha," I say. "Seriously, let's go. This doesn't feel safe."

She hits the button for the locks. "Happy now? Look, he's finishing."

I missed guy number one's big finale. Wherever he came, he's now shoving his cock back into his trousers. He gives a little nod to the other guy and they change positions, he leans on the same tree as the other guy goes off to get his.

"Okay," says Hannah. "You'll have to keep me abreast of what is going on."

"You can see...oh..." Her head is suddenly in my crotch and she's fighting with my zip.

"I'm not sure..." I start to say.

"Your dick is," she says. It's not fair. Of course, I'm hard. I mean, her lips are mere millimeters away. But, yes, honestly, I'm turned on in a dangerous, filthy kind of way.

It doesn't take me long to realize that, unlike last time, tonight she's in it for the long game. She's going to be teasing and tantalizing and taking her time.

Oh God. She's putting on a show.

I've been with Hannah long enough to know something about how her mind works. She's playful, imaginative, and creative. In bed as much as on the canvas. And she, for whatever weird reason, really loves me. That love is pretty much unconditional, but I do have my own neurosis. And golden rule number one has always been 'Don't be boring.'

Against, my better judgment, I turn on the light.

I see her smiling, her head still straight down with my dick in her mouth.

"Did that get his attention?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," I say. She's bobbing up and down on my cock now in a most unnatural way. It's not a great movement for giving head, but it does the trick if you want someone to see the back of your head going up and down over the dashboard.

"He's got his cock out," I tell her. "He's pleasuring himself."

"Again? So quickly?" she asks.

"I don't think he's hard," I say. "I think it's all about letting us know that he's appreciative."

"The other couple?"

It's incredibly rude for a man to ever suggest that his lady stops talking and starts sucking, but I'm suffering from a bad case of fellatio interruptus here. I decide I'd better keep talking to stop the constant stream of questions.

"She's blowing him still. He's there, gripping the roof of the car and, while I can't exactly see her face, she's clearly going to town on him. He...well, he's got the face of a man who's being given a blowjob."

"Cooking duties for a week if I can make you come before he does," she says. She redoubles her speed.

"No, no," I cry. "You cooking for a whole week is not the treat you make it out to be and besides, you'll be stroppy...oooohhhh."

I reach out and grasp the gearstick. That calms me down just enough not to cum.

"Sorry," I say. "He's done and walking off."

She raises her head up and sees I'm lying.

"That's a dirty trick," she says.

I shrug. "Every second counts."

When she starts to go back down on my dick, I grasp her head firmly and bring her in for a kiss. She struggles, I force her lips onto mine and she play-slaps me.

"Stop it will you," she says.

Then I see the guy walking over to us. She's suddenly bolt upright in her seat. I'm struggling to get my dick back into my trousers. He knocks on her window. Hannah opens it just the most minute fraction.

"Everything okay here, miss?"

"Yes, fine. Absolutely," she says. There's a pause. "Thank you."

"Right you are," he says, gives me a dirty scowl, and wanders back to his tree.

I look at Hannah and she looks at me.

"We're done here," I say.

She nods. I fire up the ignition and drive off.

It's Wednesday night and I'm not expecting much from the evening. We've both been working late and now that I've dropped Hannah off, gone round Lidl, and am just heading back into the apartment, there's going to be precious little time left to do much of anything before bed. That's until I meet Hannah coming down the stairs.

"Right," she says. "Change of plans. Surprise birthday party."

"Er, okay," I say. "Traditionally birthday parties are only supposed to be a surprise for the birthdayee."

"Impromptu then," she retorts. "I'll brief you in the car."

I drop the shopping bags off, and quickly throw on something smart-casual and meet her back in the car. She's driving. On my way out, I'm trying to work out which friend has a birthday in August. Not having my mother's photographic birthday memory, I'm drawing a blank.

As Hannah starts up the car, she unlocks her phone and hands it to me.

I read from the screen. "In celebration of her fiftieth birthday, slutwife73 will be taking on all cummers at Fallowfield Lane from eleven o'clock tonight for a bukkake bonanza blowout. Hope to see all the acquaintances we've made over fifteen years of dogging in the area and also some new faces."