Not outside..
*unlurks*

the closest I've got to that is in a tent, which isn't that interesting.

Before leaving for uni, I used to work in a little independent clothes shop just up the road from my house. As the place was so tiny, when I worked it would only be me there, so I had my own set of keys to get in (you can probably see where this is going)..

Cue one late night last year, getting back into town after some house party, the boyfriend and I, both absolutely hammered and horny beyond all sense and meaning of the word, decide the best idea is to pass by the shop for some cuddles and fluffy tiem before going to my house. Less than thirty seconds away.

My memory goes hazy in that charming alcohol-fuelled way, so I have no idea if I even locked the door behind us again when we got in, but luckliy memory returns with the tearing off of clothes (literally in the case of my tights..), lying back on the counter and getting a thorough, delicious fucking. My legs buckled once I stood up again. We ran home afterwards giggling like loons, and now when I work the odd day there out of term time my otherwise boring day is slightly lightened knowing I got laid right in my place of employment.

And now, reading other people's stories, I realise just how lucky I was to not have had anyone passing by (the shop has a glass front -- we would've been easily visible from the street), or to have had anything furry appear and try to molest me or the boyf. Good times!

We'd do it in the changing room downstairs after I'd closed the shop on a few occasions.. is great seeing yourself getting taken from behind in a full-length mirror, I think.
(dogman, Sun 26 Apr 2009, 2:06, Reply)