A Spontaneous Alfresco Lockdown Fuck with a Stranger [FM]

Lockdown has done something to me. By which I don’t just mean keep me stuck in my own home for weeks on end, though that is accurate too.

A few weeks into isolation my libido skyrocketed and I found myself, much to my own surprise, using my once daily outside exercise allowance to make a thoroughly inappropriate move on a complete stranger. This ultimately resulted in my delivering a swift yet satisfying blowjob behind a bush, a little off the beaten track. The inherent ‘wrongness’ of the situation both thrilled and excited me, and I felt that while I never had the slightest of intention to meet that particular guy again, this was merely the start.

A mere two days later and I repeated the endeavour with an all new random stranger. This time however, as things do, there was a degree of escalation. And by ‘a degree’ I mean I found myself being taken from behind against a tree. While the actual sex itself was mediocre (for me at least. The guy had a wonderful time), the thrill was like no other, and this now felt like a slippery slope.

Lockdown continued and so did my antics. A week or so later I continued my warped definition of the phrase ‘daily exercise allowance’ by fucking another stranger – this time far more successfully from my perspective – which, if you’ll pardon the pun, made me rather cocky. This was to be my downfall.

The very next day, still excited and buzzing from the previous encounter, I ventured out out to try to recapture the magic once again. This time however it failed miserably and resulted in an encounter so unbearably awkward and mortifying that even the hole in the ground I wanted to swallow me up, needed engulfed by a larger hole of its own. (This is metaphor and not euphemism, just to clarify.)

One day I’ll write the agonising events of that day. But not today. And probably not here. Suffice to say they weren’t of a nature that anyone would find especially arousing. Unless disappointment and cringing are you particular turn ons.

Suffice to say, this all went to rather dampened my enthusiasm for daring and risky lockdown shenanigans.

Buy why, I hear you cry, am I telling you all this? Because today, dear reader, I got back on the horse. And yes, by horse I very much mean ‘on a stranger’s cock’.

I’ll be honest, it didn’t come as a whim this time. I wasn’t overcome by a moment of frivolous passion whilst idly wandering by the river, nor was it a case of my libido simply exploding upon a mere glance at a handsome stranger. This time I’d ventured out with the specific and express intent to get lucky.

And I did.

The attire helped. No casual exercise wear this time. The weather is glorious which meant it was time to unleash a glorious summer dress. Specifically one of the type known as a HIAATAMT dress. Which, for the uninitiated, is a ‘Hi, I’m Alice And These Are My Tits’. I.e. Cleavage in sufficient abundance that can draw the eye from the other side of a park.

Gloriously unsubtle, but it did the job. Not that I was alone in that regard. The hottest day of the year brought with it more bare skin from men and women alike than on display a busy hunter’s lodge to mix my metaphors and conflate my homophones.

I spoiled for choice given the smorgasbord of flesh on show which, if anything, made me more reticent than on previous occasions to make a move. Such was the range of options open to a guy who found himself similarly minded I couldn’t foresee why he’d settle for me.

Without wishing to seem immodest here; I needn’t have worried.

After a twenty minute wander taking in the sights, enjoying the sun and percolating my sex drive to near boiling, I had the good fortune to cross paths with an acquaintance.
I already know what you’re thinking, and let me stop you before you start accusing me of falsehoods and clickbait. ‘If you knew him he’s not a stranger! Downvote. Enough of this sexless tedium!’ Yes, technically he wasn’t a total stranger in that I did know his name. But he is the friend of a friend of a friend of a friend who I have met on one solitary and shared little more than a ‘Hi’ with some years ago. Frankly the only reason I remembered him at all was because even back then I noted him as being decidedly pleasant to look at.

Small talk ensued as we conversed at a social distance. No, neither of us were up to much. Yes, it’s a lovely day. No, I don’t know what day it is either, etc. In all, the kind of small talk that would last only until one of us decided to slightly increase our pace, and then we’d likely never see each other again.

But my libido was ranging. He still looked as good looking as I vaguely remembered. And, most importantly, I was pretty sure that every time he thought I wasn’t paying attention he was taking good long looks a my HIAATAMT dress.

The conversation that follows isn’t quite verbatim as my memory tragically isn’t word perfect. But the sentiment and intent is entirely accurate.

Me: How are you finding the lack of contact?

Him: It’s tough. Chatting on Zoom just isn’t the same as in person…

Me: No, I mean physical contact.

Him: Awkward laugh.

Me: Sorry. Too much?

Him: Haha. No. Just wasn’t expecting you to say that. But yeah, it’s hard.

Me: Well obviously I can’t confirm that without physical contact.

Him. More forced awkward laughter.

PAUSE.

Me: Do you find your masturbating a lot more frequently than before this started?

Him: [Potentially sensing where this might be going] …Yes?

Me: Just to check. Were you sneaking glances at my chest whenever you thought I wasn’t looking?

Him: Erm…

Me: I call this my ‘Hi I’m Alice and These Are My Tits’ dress.

Him: Good name!

Me: If I suggest we do something incredibly inappropriate in a nice secluded area where I was pretty confident we’d not be seen, would you be interested or run away and say you were accosted by a sex pest?

Him: Sorry, what was the question? I was too busy looking at your tits…

Reader; I fucked him.

We kissed there and then, allowing our hands to do some brief and excitable wandering, but both knew we’d have to venture somewhere far more secluded if we wanted to get to the good stuff.
I don’t know if anyone else has ever found themselves in a situation where they’ve started initiating copulation, only to have to put things on hold. Let me assure you It makes for an incredibly awkward 10 minute walk, with one party attempting to hide a clearly visible erection, and the other fighting every urge to do something exciting with said erection, despite being in full view of at least a couple of onlookers…

Thankfully, I managed to restrain myself until we found a suitably secluded spot far from the beaten path. Whereupon I shed all notions of modesty and all but literally jumped him.

Hungry to near aggressive kissing was swiftly followed by him paying some hasty attention to my chest. But I’d already set eyes on my prize and wasn’t wasting a moment. I crouched down and unzipped him before he was able to register my movements.

I’d already coped a feel of what he was packing earlier, but now fully unleashed I was certainly not disappointed. Though I was slightly taken aback by how ‘ungroomed’ the nether regions were – he’d clearly been allowing things to grow wild during lockdown. And, frankly, who can blame him? – the hesitation was momentary, and I soon had him in my mouth with my tongue excitedly setting to work.

A few minutes in and I was surprised and delighted to feel his hands on the back of my head as he was keen to set and maintain a pace.

I’d have been very happy to spend a significant portion of the afternoon down there, but soon he declared it was his turn. We briefly toyed with possible solutions for him returning the oral favour, but realised this was a little less practical alfresco, but I was more than happy for some more kissing while his fingers got to work.

For those unaware, Fingering is an art form that most guys can make a passable attempt at, but actual masters of the craft are few and far between. This guy may not have been a Picasso, but I’d comfortably rank him as a Damien Hurst.

I was enjoying the time spent with his finger inside me enormously. But I was not in the least bit surprised when I found myself declaring with surprising volume and authority;

“Fuck me.”

Again, options for outdoor intercourse are somewhat limited. I spun around and bent over and he fucked me from behind. It was rough and ready (in both senses of the word) and was exactly what needed. It was very much getting the job done.

Which was why I was somewhat perturbed when he paused.

“I want you to ride me. I’ll lie on the grass.”

Without another word he withdrew and lay down.

And I rode the fuck out of him.

He finished first, giving me just enough time to dismount but not quite enough time to take it in my mouth. We both took roughly equal share of the mess, and it wasn’t a concern to either of us.

He was then gentlemanly enough to finish me off with his magic fingers. It took less than a minute.

I’ll have to wash my HIAATAMT dress, but it was a worthy sacrifice. I’ve plenty of others. And I’ll be walking that same route again soon.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/gsgxk8/a_spontaneous_alfresco_lockdown_fuck_with_a