Summers In Pub Gardens

Nothing screams summer to me more than sitting in a sunny beer garden with a dick in my mouth. It’s my ultimate al-fresco girl dinner. 

I’ll have a fruity cider and a bag of Bacon Fries, thanks, and then we’ll sit somewhere quiet and out of the way. Unless the garden is empty and it’s late, in which case fuck it, we’ll sit right in the middle. 

There’s one pub garden I rate above all others for dates. Obviously, I can’t tell you where it is, but it’s big and in the middle of the countryside and overlooked by fields on 2 sides. There’s also a hidden little corner, down by the bottom end and behind a wall, where I have sucked exactly 3 different cocks. 

The last one was the most memorable. The garden was unfathomably empty, despite it being a gloriously sunny evening. As dusk set in, the security light on the side of the pub kept being triggered by insects; we repeatedly thought it was the staff catching us. The only sounds were distant sheep, a breeze running through the nearby wheat, and my wet sucks. 

His dick was of average size and that meant it was the perfect length for my mouth, with a fat, cut head. The stubby, sharp grass was cutting into my bare knees as I knelt in front of his open, thick thighs. You could tell he probably played rugby in his younger years. He let me take charge of every movement, he didn’t touch me once and I appreciated it, because he was in my garden and it was my time to shine. 

There was no blowjob foreplay that time: I went straight in and sucked his dick hard. There was no licking, no ball-fondling, no kissing the head; just long, firm sucks. The first suck, I pulled his entire length down my throat. Then I held it there, just enjoying the feel of being filled, before pulling back achingly slowly. 

Repeating that a few times, it was time to settle into a medium rhythm; bobbing my head up and down, my lips and tongue pressed firmly into him. Instead of having his hands on the back of my head, they were clasped behind his own. Him appearing so cocky and casual about it just made it all the more hot. 

He was silent and still apart from the occasional quiet “Oh fuck”. Every time my lips met his base, his dark pubic hairs tickled my nose. Both my speed and the amount of spit in my mouth was increasing little by little. After a few minutes, my sopping wet mouth was being slammed down onto him. 

There are three elements that make a pub garden blowjob special: being slightly boozy, being in a public place, and being outside with the sun on your back. 

Having a couple of pints beforehand lowers your inhibitions just the right amount. For a lot of people, it means having the courage to actually drop trou in a public place. For me, it means being able to deep-throat you that little bit harder and ignore the ensuing choking. 

In public there’s the risk, the thrill, of being caught or seen or watched, and your senses are heightened as you keep yourself on the brink of covering up or fleeing. You’re like a gazelle at a watering hole and you’re pretty sure there are crocodiles in there. You hear everything, and even if the sound of your sucking threatens to drown it out, you make yourself hear everything. And because of that, you hear everything; the sound of your tongue rasping over stubble, their breathing, your own heartbeat, the spit bubbling out of your lips, and every sound is a drug that takes the experience to a higher and higher level. 

I don’t think there are a lot of feelings better than the elements on your bare skin, be it the heat of the sun or brittle cold on your fingertips or a breeze around your genitals or the rain on your face. Combine that with the noises of the outdoors, sex outside is literally sensational. The part I find most intoxicating is hearing people go about their everyday lives around me, not knowing that I’m getting someone off nearby. One of the best outdoor fingerings I’ve ever had was next to a tennis court, where a doubles match was being played. In my head, I created a rhythm between the finger stroking my clit and the gentle thump of the balls, and now I can’t watch Wimbledon without shifting in my seat. 

The one limitation with pub garden blowjobs? The cum has to go in your mouth. Sadly this isn’t the time for having your face or tits or their stomach coated. Public sex often has to be neat, unless you’re a very organised person and have wipes or napkins or a change of clothing (I am not). 

I could tell he was close because the “Oh fucks” had increased in frequency and his hips were starting to gently lift and buck against my face. Inside my mouth, I swirled my tongue across his head and tasted the pre-cum forming there. Slowing my pace, I concentrated my lips into a tight O and dragged up and down his frenulum and the ridge of his head, creating a thrumming feeling.  

Him saying “Oh fuck, you slut” signalled the first of many spurts of cum into me. I swallowed his entire dick, forcing his shots down the back of my tongue and throat, and continued sucking gently. Spurt after spurt followed, choking me when I couldn’t keep up. I felt his hips become limp underneath me, and then a couple of taps on my head encouraged me to release. 

I couldn’t resist continuing to lick and clean his dick before he slid his underwear back up. I always like to catch that last drop of cum on my tongue; I worked for every one.  

As we left, we walked through the bar and I gave the staff a cheery goodbye with cum still on the back of my tongue.