Thursday, June 11, 2015

Contextual Kink

by Giselle Renarde


Sweet's always asking, "What's something you want to do that we've never done before?" I don't know. Considering she once told me we'd never have a sexual relationship, we've done a metric fuck-tonne of... well, fucking.

I flip the question back at her every time, and every time she's got an answer on the tip of her tongue: "I want to have sex with you outside. I want you naked in the woods."

Thanks, but no thanks. Been there, done that. Sex in the woods reminds me of being a teenager and having nowhere else to go. (Do kids really have sex in their parents' houses these days? I could never have done that. Yikes! Never!)

Anyhoo, Sweet's been extra wonderful lately and I took on short-term employment this spring to earn some extra cash, so last week I whisked her away on a romantic adventure... IN THE WOODS.

Well, not really in the woods, but by overlooking a lake. There were trees around so, yeah, you know what? Let's call it the woods. I rented a quaint little cottage and treated her to a magnificent meal. After that, I was pretty much ready to explode. I was so full it hurt to laugh--and I know, because Sweet made me laugh the whole way back to our cottage.

I took a bath while she sauntered in and out of the washroom, taking off her makeup and beginning her extensive nightly beauty regime. After that, I put on a cotton camisole just long enough to cover my butt. Sweet tossed her silky red nightie over her head, and we played a board game in front of the TV. She indulged me in a rerun of Night Court, which (as you may recall from previous posts), I wasn't allowed to watch when I was a kid. It's just an old sitcom, but for me it'll always represent being naughty and getting away with it.

It must have been eleven at night by the time we'd finished our game. Without a word, I slipped outside. The night was wonderfully dark--something I'm not accustomed to, living in the heart of a major metropolitan centre. The only lights around came from the other side of the lake, which was a long way off.

Beyond our deck there was a stretch of land, a few trees by the shore, and then the lake. Earlier in the day, Canada Geese and about a thousand little goslings had been feasting on something in the grass. Now they were somewhere out there, honking at God-knows-what.

There were other cottages on the property, but ours was closest to the lake. If I stood at either edge of the deck, I could look back and see those cottages. One was lit up, but I didn't see anyone inside. The other had been dark all night.

Sweet followed me outside and wrapped a pashmina around my shoulders. I needed it. The night air was cool, for June, but once Sweet folded me into her arms, the chill just fell away. Her body warmed me from behind as she asked, "Why did you come out here?"

Did she really have to ask? "So you would follow me."

She giggled and kissed my neck and, after looking around in every direction (including UP, just in case), I slipped the straps of my camisole down my arms until it pooled around my ankles.

And here's the thing: even though Sweet's been asking for sex outdoors for years, I didn't get naked for her. Well, maybe it was a little bit for her. Maybe it was a lot for her. But in that moment, in the darkness, under the stars, with a gaggle of geese honking like old-timey automobiles stuck in an old-timey traffic jam, I really just wanted to strip down to nothing.

I didn't plan this encounter when I booked the cottage. I didn't choose a relatively remote location so we'd have the opportunity. I had no idea our deck wouldn't be visible from the neighbouring cabins. It wasn't until we got there and saw the space that we both knew, without even hinting to each other, that we'd found the perfect place.

So Sweet got her wish. She got her sex in the great outdoors.

And I got mine.

Twice.

12 comments:

  1. As uncomfortable as it sometimes can be, there's something magical about outdoor sex, something purer, more elemental, more urgent perhaps.

    I remember one particular encounter, a hundred years ago. My boyfriend and I were driving through the desert in Colorado and all at once, we just had to fuck. We pulled over in the middle of nowhere and headed into the brush. Did we even have a blanket? I don't remember. All I recall is how the sun beat down, and how much I wanted him. Afterward, sprawled on the sandy ground amidst the scrubby vegetation, I thought about scorpions. It really looked like scorpion country.

    And if I had been bitten? What an appropriate way to go, right?

    (BTW I love your comment about "Night Court"!)

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    1. I love your desert story, Lisabet. :-)

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  2. What a great anecdote. It made me happy. And I love "a gaggle of geese honking like old-timey automobiles stuck in an old-timey traffic jam." (:v>

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    1. Old-timey's great. There are unicyclists in my neighbourhood. They seem old-timey, to me. Not sure why.

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  3. Lovely, atmospheric tale, Giselle. Yes, I also remember fucking in the woods because that was the only place to go. There was a big rock we used to lean against so as not to get ticks or eewww-- poison ivy in the wrong places. Yikes!

    Then it was the back seats of cars, unless one set of parents were out of the house at the same time. Almost got caught one time. I stood at the door , slowing my mother down with a sheepish grin while a very young Momma X tried to arrange herself. Either my mother was clueless or didn't want to know.

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    1. I've never done anything naughty in a back seat, only front seats. Oh, except one time when I was in the back and she was in the front... sounds weird, but it worked.

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    2. Back seats, front seats--where there's a will there's a way.

      Trying to imagine a sexy scene with partners in both front and back. Just two people, right? :>)

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    3. A reclining front seat would help. And long arms.

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  4. Hmm. Does it count if you're in a tent? Come to think of it, I recall a certain sleeping bag kept rolled up and bagged in some mighty dense bush cover out back, for when opportunity beckoned. And a canoe trip interrupted by a thunder storm, where we clung together under the upturned aluminum canoe and enjoyed the hell out of the reverberations of thunder on the metal. But none of that comes close to the lovely romanticism of your piece here. (Plus I love the honking geese bit, too.)

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    1. Awww a canoe. Now I want to go camping.

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  5. Beautiful writing, Giselle, and it sounds like a beautiful trip away! I am a bit squeamish outside, so it's hard for me to relax enough to do anything out there. That said, there have been times... I like the way you explain the conditions here, the things that made this particular time and place the right one.

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