We never set out to have sex in public places, but occasionally it happened spontaneously – The best way!

The first time was not too long after we married in 1960.  At that time we were living in a succession of rented flats (apartments), mostly of just one or two rooms, often with a shared bathroom.  In between, we stayed briefly at my wife’s parents’ home.  Such living was not so unusual in the UK at that time and, like a still large proportion of families, neither we nor her parents possessed a TV.  So, rather than remain cooped up in a less-than-wonderful flat or with family, we often spent some hours each evening, either at the cinema or just walking around town.  Our town was a seaside resort and so we very often went to the public gardens which lay between the beach and seafront road and the top of land that sloped moderately steeply up to around 100 feet (30 metres), laughingly known as The Cliffs.  The landscaped gardens were dotted with flower beds, trees and shrubs, steps and pathways.  Along the latter, here and there, were wooden, half-glazed shelters of Victorian/Edwardian style, with wooden bench seating.  We would often stop and stay awhile at one of these, enjoying kisses and cuddles and some fondling of intimate places.  From the shelter, we could see anyone approaching along the paths.

On this particular occasion, a thick sea fog had rolled in and vision was down to just a few yards/metres.  The cold, damp fog seemed to have driven everyone else indoors.  Before too long, my hand had found its way up my wife’s thigh and under the leg hem of her panties, which were conveniently lifted by her suspender belt when sitting.  She was particularly aroused that night and, emboldened by the protecting fog, we suddenly found ourselves pulling and pushing clothing out of the way and my stiff cock was sliding into her warm, wet and welcoming pussy.  As we knew she was already pregnant, we just let everything run its course and managed to climax almost simultaneously.   A truly memorable night! 

We did not make love in a public place again for several years.  By the time we did, we had three children, had lost another and suffered a miscarriage.  My wife had been warned not to have any more children and rather than take any risks, I had had a vasectomy, so only fired blanks, although everything else worked exactly as it should.  On that second occasion, we were on a sloping river bank a few miles away, on a warm, sunny afternoon, with our young children playing happily a short distance away.  My wife and I were lying on the grass, cuddling and kissing as so often.  Suddenly, somehow, without a word, we both knew what was to happen next.  This was the late 1960s and my wife had long taken to wearing mini-skirts and bare legs in summer, so it did not take much effort, with me pressed up close against her back, to pull aside her panties, unzip my jeans and come into her from behind.  Of course, no ‘protection’ was needed, as I could no longer make her pregnant.  My free hand was around her thigh, ensuring that my cock stayed inside her and at the same time stimulating her clitoris.  It did not take much time to produce and fire my load and she gave a few muted squeals of pleasure as we both climaxed.  Just as well, as a previously unnoticed yacht was chugging along the riverbank and getting ever closer.  I often wondered whether those aboard saw us and realised what we were up to!  For my wife, the only downside was having to wear wet, semen-soaked panties for the rest of the afternoon.

In subsequent years, we had several other spur-of-the-moment couplings in the same general area, nearly always with my wife sitting on my lap with her back to me (which meant that I was able to enjoy her by now 36C breasts while we were fucking) and bouncing up and down or rocking back and forth while I wriggled and thrust.  On those occasions there were often numbers of other people not too far away (and once, a passing train), which all added to the excitement.