One Sunday evening, I was driving home after meeting some colleagues for a drink, I had stuck to Coke, I can't afford to lose my licence.  Too much Coke, I was bursting, home was still fifteen minutes drive away.  I knew the area, mainly urban, but there was a nature reserve nearby, At this time of night, it would be closed, but there was a narrow wooded track leading to the car park.  It would do.

I pulled off the track, fished my cock out and let it go.  Bliss.  As I shaked the drops off, there was a squeal from further into the trees.  It startled me.  Fox, I thought.  I went back to the car, there was another squeal.  Perhaps not a fox, it sounded human.  I was gripped by fear, what if someone was being murdered?  I dismissed the idea, probably a fox.

I got back in the car and began to have pangs of conscience, what if the news the next morning reported a murder?  A murder I could have stopped.  I am no hero, but I couldn't just drive away could I?  As quietly as I could, feeling my way between the trees, I headed for where the squeals were coming from.

The sound was human, but nobody was being murdered, a middle aged woman was bent over a picnic bench being vigorously fucked from behind.  They had an audience.  I had accidentally stumbled on a dogging site!

There were about a dozen people, both men and women.  Illumination was provided by nighlights on the tables.  All the men had their cocks out, wanking, one or two of the women had their hands busy too.  My eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom, the man doing the fucking grunted and came, then withdrew his condoned cock and waved it to the audience, the spunk filled teat flapping about.  One or two gave him a thumbs up.

My own cock was rigid, freed of it's load of pee, now more interested in it's secondary function, (Perhaps primary?)  of delivering spunk.  I had been divorced for six months, live by myself and haven't had sex since my divorce.  Like the group in front of me, I am a wanker.  But unlike them, a solo wanker, getting my stimulation from porn.  Apart from the almost pitch blackness, watching porn was exactly what I was doing, but live porn.

"Boo!"

I nearly soiled myself!  The voice was male, soft and right in my ear.  A sentinel.  I sputtered an apology.

"No need to apologise," he said.  "We like to be watched.  Would you like to join us?"

I seemed to have lost the power of speech, I nodded.  The sentinel told me to follow him, we at first walked away from the 'arena', taking faint paths to another track that I hadn't known existed, leading to the nature reserve car park.  The official entrance was barriered, but there were several cars parked.  The picnic area was alongside the car park.  The group looked up as we approached.

"Look what I've found in the woods," said the  sentinel.  "Would anybody object to another spectator? "

There were mutters of assent.  The woman who I had just watched being fucked, said;

"No such thing as too many cocks."

She was not exactly page three material, but her dress, or lack of it, amply compensated.  She was wearing a cupless basque, the suspenders of which held up black stockings.  On her feet were very high stillettos.  Her big tits hung over the material of the basque.

The man who had just fucked her, said;

"I'll take over sentry duty Phil, I'm done for today anyway."

He wandered off.  Introductions were made, nobody shook hands.  Phil said;

"What's next on the agenda, who's going to impress our new friend?"

A blonde woman, who had been introduced as Barbara, about the same age as the woman in the Basque but probably the most attractive woman there, said;

"I fancy a roasting, who's got some left?"

There were several volunteers, including Phil, she picked him and another and seized the hem of her summer dress, peeling if off.  Beneath it, she was naked apart from shoes and hold ups.  Phil dropped his pants and sat on one of the tables, Barbara took his cock into her mouth,  the other man took up his position behind her, fitted a condom and slipped into her cunt.  The others gathered round, offering encouragement, all masturbating.

For the second time that night, I was startled by a voice in my ear, this time female.  It was the woman who I seen fucked from behind.

"How much did you see before Phil interrupted you?"

"I saw you getting fucked."

"Did you wank?"

"No."

"You can do it now if you want, everybody does, or I can do it for you, it's the most you'll get tonight."

An offer I couldn't refuse.

"I'd like you to do it."

I croaked.

"Get it out then, let's see what you've got."

I unzipped and disentangled my very hard cock.

"Nice one."

She said.  She stood by my side, with her left arm round my waist and took my cock in her right hand, that way we could both watch the action before us.  I like to think that I am a skilled wanker, I practice often, but she could win medals for it.  In no time flat, I was spurting my essence onto the earth.

She removed her hand and wiped her fingers on a tissue.

"Looks like you've been saving it up."

She said.  In fact I hadn't, I had given myself one that very morning.  Since my divorce, I was wanking almost as much as I had as a teenager.  Every morning without fail, again as I watched or read porn in the evening and usually again before I slept.  But it was nice of her to say it.

The table tableau was also finishing.  The man fucking Barbara came and withdrew, she accelerated her sucking and brought Phil to his, gulping down his offering.  She looked directly at me with spunk dripping from her chin and said;

"The thing I like best about a Sunday roast, is the gravy."

Apparently it was over, they carefully inspected the area for litter, using the lights on their phones, and dispersed.  Phil drove me back to where my car was parked, I would otherwise not have found it.  It turned out that Helen, the woman who had wanked me off, was his partner.  Before they left, Phil gave me the name of a pub where the next meeting, in two weeks time, was to gather before moving on to the fucking area.  I asked if they always used the same one.

"No," he replied.  " We vary it.  It will be decided in the pub."

"Have you ever been caught?"

I asked.

"Occasionally," he replied.  That's why we take turns to keep a lookout, mostly it's someone like yourself, looking for somewhere to pee or for a quiet wank, or couples looking for somewhere to fuck, it's how we recruit."

"What about the local five-oh?"

"Not a problem, we have an insider, they leave us alone.  What do you think, will you be joining us?"

"I don't have a partner, " I said.  "Nothing to trade."

Helen chipped in;

"As I said earlier, no such thing as too many cocks.  From what I saw tonight, or rather felt, you will be most welcome."

I lay in bed thinking about it.  It was not how I had anticipated getting back in the saddle, but a fuck's a fuck.  I had two weeks to decide.  I had another wank and went to sleep.