Monday, September 11, 2006

Terrible Infidelity #1: Dogging

I really didn't mean to go dogging. I was simply chatting to three people outside a club, and two of them got in their car and went home, and I got chatting to the remaining one.

He got in his car, and shut the door, leaving me standing outside. Oh. Odd. Was that goodnight? I tapped on the window. It slid down.

"Get in then," he said, and in I got.

"Um," I said. We were sitting in a dark car. This felt naughty and yet odd. Plus, I had no idea what you actually do. I mean my only experience of reaching across in a car was to grab another sandwich from my mother's tupperware. This was... new.

I decided to risk a snog.

"Not yet," he hissed. "I'm waiting to make sure the others have gone."

"I think they have."

"Nah, I'm just checking - it's just that they're great to go back with, but Simon always makes like he's happy watching you shag Derek, but then all of a sudden he's on top of you. Kind of puts you off, you know."

"Right. Yeah. Um.

"Look, let's just park round the corner."

So, we park round the corner. And it's all very odd. I mean, I've kissed a boyfriend goodnight in a car. That seemed fine. But sex in a car? It's all rather Carry On. Especially when the chairs reclined automatically. That was hilarious.

So anyway, the chairs reclined, and so did we, and I learned many useful things about him, including where his tattoos were and what his name was.

All of a sudden, though, there was a light. One of those motion-sensitive security lights. Was that us?

"Fucking hell," said Carl, "They're pressed up against the windows." And he was right.

You know that bit in a horror movie when the noble young lovers are taking desperate
refuge in a car from the shuffling zombie hoardes?

Well, dear reader, I was that desperate.

Gays had surrounded the car, and were up against it like slugs on a milk bottle.

"What... do... we... do?" I whispered.

"Buckle up," grinned Carl.

Oooh! A daring bid to scatter them like cardboad boxes in Starsky and Hutch! I reached for my seatbelt.

"No," hissed Carl, "Pull up your pants. They'll get bored in a minute."

Oh.

So, we talked. About stacking shelves in Tesco, and how he had to leave in a few minutes to start baking bread.

And gradually, the zombies got bored and shuffled away.

And eventually, the security light winked off.

And, finally, he went and baked some bread.

10 comments:

PJ said...

I've also gone dogging by accident. It was a classic scenario, my ex and I parked up in a secluded area and got busy. Then I looked up and saw a solitary dogwalker peering into the car. We decided to carry on anyway, and the voyeur created an extra frisson of excitment!

Skip said...

oh, but the horror!

unless, of course, it's a pretty dog walker.

Matt said...

I feel it appropriate to mention my car sex experience that resulted in two seats stuck in the recline mode and me looking very embarrassed at the garage the next day.

klee said...

I first learned how to give head in a car, in an arrangement which lasted several months.

It did mean that for ages afterwards it didn't feel right unless I could steady myself on the gear stick.

Skip said...

hurray! that's both tacky, sexy and sooo middle england!

klee said...

It gets worse: it was a white Honda Accord and I was the 'other woman'.

It was like boot camp for gaying.

Skip said...

ooh, you slut! :)

*envious*

Gary said...

On first reading this entry it struck me that 'I didn't really mean to go dogging' is a sentence only a gay could get away with.

Then I wondered if that was absolutely true.

Then I spent several minutes saying, out loud, the sentence 'I didn't really mean to go dogging', in a variety of voices. Some of them 'gay', some of them 'straight'.

What on earth is happening to me?

(incidentally: I concluded that if you want to say it at all brightly, then yes you really should be gay. But if you go all pleading and apologetic, d'you know I'm almost sure you can do it in straight.)

Skip said...

I know what you mean. Have you seen the hilarious press coverage of the cop who went dogging and climbed in a car behind a 25 year old squaddie and his mother-of-five mistress?

Hilariously awkward. Especially when Mo5 claimed they'd just gone there for "a cuddle". The use of the word "cuddle" is always baaaad.

As in the man who wants to say over who announces "If i sleep with you, we'll just cuddle."

Gary said...

"If I sleep with you, we'll just cuddle." Oh God, I've said that.

But only with a really sleazy grin on my face, so actually that's fine.