The Good Dogging Guide
By Heidi Flow © 2016
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Chapter One
Up and down the country my husband and I went, on an adventure of a lifetime. Of course given our social standing in the community and other things that had to be considered, like our family friends and jobs, we couldn’t recount our tale of events or shout from the rooftops of our adventures, like we could have done if we’d gone mountain climbing or white water rafting. But what my husband and I did, we found much more exciting, even if we did have to keep it secret. But now our secret can come out in a fashion in this document that we like to call, the good dogging guide. Of course the names, if names are used at all, have been changed to protect the innocent and the not so innocent. And we don’t give out exact locations, just rough ideas of the area in general. We’re sure if you follow the guide you’ll soon find yourself on the path that we found ourselves on, and although it’s not quite the path to enlightenment, it is the path to fun and excitement, and in this day and age that’s something we can all do with a bit of.
Once you do get out there you’ll find that there are all kinds of people from all walks of life. Some just want to watch and some love to play, just remember to be respectful of everyone and stay safe. If you’re female, like me, it’s a good idea to take a male companion with you, even if he’s not going to get involved in the action. A set of eyes and ears watching out for you is a good thing when you’re parking up to play in a lonely spot.
Know your boundaries and stick to those boundaries, don’t be pressured on the spot. If you feel like relaxing some of those boundaries, put a bit of thought in about it over a night or two, there’s no need for any knee jerk reactions.
Oh what the hell am I saying, knee jerk reactions are how we had some of our best dogging sessions. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow. That’s how my husband and I got into dogging in the first place, by going with the flow. In fact, we didn’t even realise we were dogging the first time it happened. And seeing as the first time is as good as any, that’s the place we’re starting our guide, at a certain northwest holiday resort, which has a number of piers, fun fair and an attraction not unlike the one found in Paris.
My husband and I were not married at that point, but we had been going out for a number of months. We were staying in a not very nice bed and breakfast. The place was clean and the food was passable, but the landlady was a throwback to the landladies of old and belonged more in a grim seaside postcard rather than in the modern day.
“I expect perfect quiet after nine o’clock,” she informed us curtly on our arrival. “There’s no eating or drinking in the rooms. Anyone breaking any of these rules will be asked to leave immediately.”
I felt like leaving as soon as she’d delivered her rather unfriendly put rules, but seeing as we’d paid beforehand, we decided we’d make the best of it.
A couple of hours later when we’d nipped up to our room for a bit of afternoon delight, we began to realise the lengths our landlady was going to go to, to curtail our enjoyment of our holiday. No sooner had we started rolling about on the bed, when a sharp rap of knuckles hit our door.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked, not quite fully clothed, so I didn’t quiet fully open the door.
“It’s the noise,”
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