I’ve always loved the idea of having sex outdoors. It’s healthy, but also a little naughty. However, as a mother of three, outdoor sex was off limits to me for a long time – if I had time outside, I spent it in a playground.
But now that I’m divorced and it’s summer, my mind has turned back to it. So far, I’ve only managed to seduce my young suitor Eliot in a tent.
I’m hopeful there will be more, but I must admit that my most successful attempt so far was with my ex-husband Simon.
It was 2008 and we had gone on a solo holiday to Croatia, leaving our eldest (and then only) son, Hector, aged two, with my mother.
My libido was through the roof, and when Simon and I were swimming one morning in the warm waters of the Adriatic, I pulled him out past the other bathers and wrapped my arms around him.
It was hard to shake the worry that someone might appear from behind a rock, writes Annabel Bond of her outdoor adventure.
Sex in the sea would be delicious, I thought. The water was at body temperature and provided an element of flotation. And even though we were outside, no one could see what we were doing.
Simon had wonderful lips, which were a pleasure to kiss under the salty sun. It was romantic to wrap my legs around his waist and look into his eyes as we embraced in a marital embrace.
But there was the problem with her swimsuit, which was bulky, and when we started having sex it was difficult to get traction as the water was going in and out. We were out of our depth, so movement in the ocean wasn’t going so well either.
Anyway, it was important! A notch on my bedpost was now labelled “outdoors.” And it was certainly more successful than the first time we tried it five years earlier, in Wales.
In retrospect, the Brecon Beacons may not have been the most sensible choice, but the spring there is so fertile and life springs from every crevice, that inevitably our sap rose too.
We were climbing the mountain, the hills below shaking like a green picnic blanket, when we looked at each other and raised our eyebrows.
There was no one for miles around except sheep; hopefully their sense of decency wasn’t outraged by open-air sex.
When we reached a viewpoint overlooking a cliff, it seemed perfect to us.
But the sunny weather had disappeared; a strong breeze whipped my hair into my eyes, clouds threatened rain, and everything was soaked.
It was also difficult to shake off the fear that someone might appear from behind a rock. We would give some hikers a scare they would never forget.
It’s nice to remember that my ex-husband and I were once so in love with each other that we were trying to have sex in the Brecon Beacons and were only prevented by the British weather.
But, in our British spirit, we carried on, but without giving up.
I stood with my back to the view, while Simon looked down the road in case there were any unsuspecting walkers.
He unzipped my jeans. It was strange and exciting to have wind in areas where daylight was normally never seen.
But my jeans were tight, as was the fashion at the time, and their influence was limited. I didn’t want to pull my pants down completely, because that would scare the horses and sheep.
I closed my eyes. Think sexy thoughts! Nature was in bloom. I was nature’s child. Birds do it, bees do it. Maybe a sexy farmer would come and watch us… wait, was there a farmer watching us?
I opened my eyes. No, thank God. But I couldn’t concentrate anymore.
The increasingly inclement weather seemed to be too cold for Simon’s, ahem, comfort as well.
And I was starting to get worried about having to walk back down the hill in my soaked jeans. After a while, Simon sweetly admitted, “It’s okay, honey, I don’t think I can do it either.”
Still, it’s nice to remember that, after all these years, Simon and I were once so in love with each other that we were trying to have sex in the Brecon Beacons, and the only thing stopping us was the British weather.
But even in beautiful Croatia I have to admit that it was better when Simon and I met in our bedroom.
It was right on the seafront of Hvar Island, almost like being outdoors, but with pillows and privacy.
The sunlight was beating down on our bodies, a cool breeze billowing through the curtains. I was deliciously relaxed and my orgasm was one of the most intense I’ve ever had. I was happy, in love with my husband.
I didn’t know then that our happiness wouldn’t last, but the memory of that moment does, and that’s something.
Annabel Bond is a pseudonym. Names have been changed.
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