Hotwife Guide to Dogging, English Style
“I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers and swirled my tongue around his cockhead, which drives him crazy. The shouts of encouragement from the crowd actually got me wet, so I took him down my throat and gave him an extra long and sensuous blow job until he filled my mouth with his warm spunk. I swallowed it all, as I always do.”
by Nancy Fairchild
nancy.fairchild@hushmail.com
One spring a few years ago my husband and I spent a few months in The Hague (Den Haag) in the Netherlands. We rented a historic house in Scheveningen, the area of the city that abutted the North Sea beach. It sounds idyllic. Take my word for it, it wasn’t, but it was a change from our normal life in London and a break from my lovers there. The Netherlands is quite a boring country and it’s full of giant people. Brian and I felt like miniature humans while we were there.
My husband, Brian, is a legal expert on a number of different matters, one of them being the world of publishing. At the time, the government of the Netherlands was trying to sell off its state-owned publishing enterprises to private equity companies that would load them with debt and run them into the ground. That wasn’t the stated government policy at the time, but it was what Brian predicted would happen and he was absolutely right.
Brian was being paid a fortune on a short-term contract to sort the companies out so they could be sellable. He was an unusual choice for that project because he was much younger than many people he dealt with at the time and he was not the sort of man who projected strength to his peers. He was just quietly smarter than anyone around him. Physically, we are very similar. We are 5’5’’ and slim and could actually wear the same clothes if we chose to (we, or should I say I, later chose to do just that and now we share my wardrobe).
We met in New York and I divorced my husband weeks after I set eyes on Brian at a party on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I entrapped him virtually on the first night we were together and have never let him loose since. Our marriage is unbalanced. I have my freedom to have other lovers and he doesn’t. He’s also ten years my junior, smarter than me and financially successful enough to support me in a style that few women enjoy. We moved to London shortly after our rushed and very illegal wedding (I wasn’t properly divorced at the time). I wanted to escape the scorn of my family for marrying outside my Jewish faith and I needed to be as far away from my ex-husband as possible.
During this time in our marriage I was extremely interested in exploring the boundaries of my sexuality. I was very interested in the extreme and mainly hidden world of domination. The Netherlands is the place to do that because they take S&M very seriously. I was also curious about anything else sexually unusual.
Brian took up smoking briefly that spring and was befriended by a young English man in the smoking room at the company he was trying to restructure. He had the very English name of Clive and he was substantially overweight and was constantly perspiring, even in cool weather. Clive spent his entire weekly earnings at the Showboat in Amsterdam which was a huge swinging club that allowed single men entrance. He kept encouraging Brian to go to the ‘boat’ with him on the weekends, but he wasn’t successful in convincing my husband that it was a worthwhile destination.
Brian always conveyed his conversations with Clive to me in part because he liked him and he also considered him an archetypical English single man who was amusingly deluded about female sexuality, assuming that women wanted exactly what horny young men did. I’ve always had a deep personal interest in horny young men, but they have to measure up to a certain standard and Clive was far from that. At the time I was only fucking my husband and that isn’t enough for me, ever. He was a perfectly adequate lover and had a perfectly adequate cock with which to fuck me, but he’s so devoted to me he lacks the edge I seek in other men. Brian will not let me suck his cock, but he longs to go down on me, even if I’ve had another cock in me not long before.
You’ll note that I speak of Brian’s more than adequate cock in the past tense. There’s a reason for that which you’ll find out if you read my other true to life stories. Don’t worry, it’s not gone, it’s just being downsized right now. I am adjusting his body to suit my new tastes now.
About halfway through the spring Clive disappeared into thin air. After a couple of days of his absence Brian enquired about him and was told he had popped a synapse at the Showboat and had a mental breakdown as a result. This made me curious, so I told Brian that he was taking me to that club that coming weekend.
I had never been to a swing club before and, therefore, had no guide as to how to dress. I chose a thigh length black leather skirt, to the knee boots with three-inch heels and a burgundy velour V-necked top that showed some cleavage. Brian just wore trousers and a sports shirt. I shouldn’t have bothered dressing to impress because the scene we saw when we entered the club was the least sexy event I had witnessed in a long time. There was a throng of over a hundred mean crowded around a platform where a blonde woman with ultra large fake tits was being professionally fucked by some stud and they both looked exceedingly bored. It took me about 15 seconds to grab my husband’s arm and lead him out of the Showboat.
A couple of years later my lover in Oxford, Adrian, was pestering me non-stop to go ‘dogging’ with him. After a few months I caved in and agreed to go once on the condition that we’d leave immediately at my say so. Dogging is uniquely English because, it’s at once gross, and also cheap, and more than fulfills the sexual fantasies of English men who think there’s nothing more interesting for a woman to do than get fucked in the woods at night by a fat stranger.
Americans are too easily intimidated by the English because a small segment of the population has an Oxbridge accent, studied the classics and can reference ancient Greek and Roman literature and grew up with a silver spoon in their mouth and a broomstick up their ass. In reality, most Brits are drunken, fat louts but very likeable and down to earth.
On a Friday night Adrian drove me to an out of the way parking area on the edge of a woodland. There were about 50 other cars parked in the area. We kept the doors locked and the windows rolled up but Adrian turned on the overhead lights and asked me to unbutton my blouse and undo my bra and bare my tits to the men crowding around the car. We attracted a crowd of about 50 men who would be lucky to get laid once or twice in their lives. Then Adrian asked for a blow job and actually said please, so I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers and swirled my tongue around his cockhead, which drives him crazy. The shouts of encouragement from the crowd actually got me wet, so I took him down my throat and gave him an extra long and sensuous blow job until he filled my mouth with his warm spunk. I swallowed it all, as I always do.
Then we left. That’s my one experience with dogging. My curiosity was sated, and I don’t need to go back again. I might go to a swing club again if it was couples only and the right man asked me. Or I could take my husband with me in a few months after the changes I am making to him are complete.
