After receiving so many unexpected likes on my previous true tales & your appreciative comments, it seems that my deviant tastes are shared by some of you lot. So I thought I'd recall another true experience for fellow broad-minded adult pleasure seekers.

This particular one took place not long after the COVID lockdown.

Not far from my work place, at that time, there once existed, what I'll refer to as a cradle of nature worship. Hidden within thick, woody shrubbery; during the day, before the gates were locked at dusk and mostly unnoticed by passing dog walkers, covert sexual revelry was going on. For those who knew, it served as a discreet place for a furtive rendezvous.

One warm afternoon I parked up and ducked into the shrubbery. There were trodden paths you could follow & secluded clearings from others' sorties. Here, previous encounters had carelessly left behind evidence, markers; crumpled tissues, torn pictures from girlie mags, soiled knickers, empty beer cans and condom wrappers. Usual sordid sex litter.

This day, after roving about for a while, I chanced upon a trio frolicking in the bushes. There was a woman lying on her back with her skirts drawn up to her waist with two fellas at either end with their pants down.

Now, allow me share my view on dogging group sex where a woman is involved. In my personal experience threesomes work usually within codes of practice, mostly unspoken. In other words, one participant sets parameters and quietly calls the shots. Typically, you need to be wary where to touch, where's taboo and strictly off limits. Touching an 'off limits' zone and my word, the shame.

With more than three participants it's more complex. Guys are jostling for a prominent position so it can all get a little competitive. Once when I was joining in and getting into my stride, a more domineering guy nudged me aside to take over. Oh, humiliation! So for me, group sex hasn't been relaxed or easy going. It's not fluid adult fun as I seek out.

Anyway, my sudden appearance had disturbed these three, who hastily broke apart and rearranged their clothing. I made my apologies and said "Don't mind me, you carry on". A bawdy tryst wasn't what I had in mind.

My instinct was that good fortune might lay ahead so I meandered deeper in the waist high grass and further off the beaten tracks.

And what do you know? There, partially hidden in the shade, lolling against a tree, stood what I had in mind. Today, it was a lone biker, my day was hotting up.

I casually broached him with a "Great day for it". "Yeah mate" he grunted back. Looking sideways, he licked his lips and began to undo his shirt buttons down to his navel, revealing his hairy chest, saucer sized nipples and a round belly.

Stepping closer I asked "What you into then?". His response both surprised and excited me. "I look for opportunities" he replied as he cupped his crotch.

"I see, I think I can help you with that" I said as I brushed his hand away and felt he shape of his dick through his trousers.

He stood still as I unzipped him, reached in and gently released his slightly moist sex. Once out it rose up, stood proudly to attention, like a guard on sentry duty.

I snapped open his braces and his breeches slid down to his boots. I proceeded to ease his boxer shorts down and his full glory was made available to mother nature, giving off a musky scent.

I noticed that where his pubes would have been, he was shaved clean with a tattoo of a green grenade. "I love to grind, fella" he whispered.

Well I thought we should live out our whims to avoid any later regret. And so we did, quite a bit of sweaty, hands-free grinding with him huffing in my face. Rubbing our stiffies together, mine got smeared, first with his sweat and then slathered in his warm, sticky cum. "Oh yeah" he murmured. He obviously felt free to indulge himself.

At this point I thought maybe he was done so I was a surprised when he lowered himself onto his knees, took hold of my dick and pointed it to his lips. With his tongue curled he probed my prick slit, which felt really good. He had introduced me to a whole new sensation. He then hungrily sucked me deep, right down to the base, cleaning up his own cum.

This was turning out better than I could have hoped for. As my legs stated to wobble I turned round and lent up against the tree. The biker took my nuts into his mouth one at a time and gently tongued them individually. This felt incredible. He flicked his fat tongue round my flange and much like a lolly, he licked my prick up and down. After that, he really sucked in earnest. A wet, vacuum like suck.

I warned him I was close as my legs began to shake but he ignored me and continued slurping away. I checked again if he wanted it, to which he vigorously nodded. "Careful fella, I'm gonna blow"

He withdrew my pulsing dick, looked at it and looked up to say "Give me it". Once he drawn me back inside his gob, I couldn't hold myself back. Just as I shot my first wad he pulled me out so that it splattered on his extended tongue. "Yeah, lovely" he said, as he took me back in and swallowed up his reward.

He took the time to clean my knob before standing back up with 'a cat that got the cream' grin on his face. I noticed fat drops of spunk clung to his beard.

As I was pulling up my pants I asked him when he got into this lark. "In prison" he replied as he swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He said no more than that. I thanked him as I do anyone who makes the effort to pleasure me. "Let's do it again sometime" he replied as he turned and sauntered off.

I never did see this 'grinder' man again - there were no more 'opportunities", but I've a clear memory of that distinctive pubic tattoo and his wide braces designed to look like builders' tape measures.

I leisurely walked on across a field where sheep were kept as I saw bits of wool caught in the brambles.

At the far end, by the wire fence and dense grose bushes, I ran across a chap knelt down, with legs tucked beneath him, his wide naked arse pointed up in the air and his face hidden buried in the dirt. Was he sunbathing his buttocks? I wondered.

I figured out that blind humiliation was his kink. Too impersonal for my taste. However, to be obliging, I stopped and sunk my thumb into his slack manhole. He gasped, pushing himself up against my hand and clenching to hold my thumb in. With a bent thumb I circled around his muscle ring which caused he to let out a deep moan. He clutched for my fist trying to pull the meat of his arse closer and me in as deep as possible.

I could feel his pulsing hum. With a clamped rectum, his bum hole was getting syrupy. "I ain't gonna let you go" he growled.

With him gripping in my sore thumb so hard, I had to give it a tug to withdraw. For playing naughty I gave his ass a sharp slap. That's when I glimpsed he too had a tattoo next to my hand print; a small cartoon daredevil holding a pitchfork.

"Nice, carry on Sir" he said.

"Another time" I assured him. Another day my carnal urge might not be held back. I left him as he was, to his own devices. Somewhat reckless I thought as he could be taken advantage of but then he probably wouldn't allow anything he didn't already want in the first place. Being at the mercy of passing public was audacious. It must have held an intense thrill so it's not for me to judge. I did like him calling Sir.

Once the herberts' discarded sex litter had attracted the attention of the dog walkers, the authorities clamped down. The place is still there however the action was snuffed out. Don't ask. Damn those sex litter bugs!

This is all true, no fabrication.