Let's go outside

While watching the latest version of Lady Chatterly’s Lover the other day – and jotting down some creative notes about nudity and wildflower usage – I realised it was time I turned my superhero scrutiny onto a topic I haven’t really delved into much before: the intriguing, titillating and downright saucy notion of doing the wild thing in the actual wild.
Forget about alfresco dining; alfresco shagging is where it’s at. The wind in your hair, the sand down your undies...it’s nothing if not memorable. Especially if you’re caught in the act.
I mean, half the excitement is about possibly getting sprung by your next door neighbour, right? But someone actually stumbling on the pair of you in your birthday suits doing things that would frighten fish is another matter entirely, as I found during a little informal poll on the topic.
Take Cassie’s recollection: she never thought twice about celebrating her boyfriend’s football win on the pitch at sunset, except when they spotted a lone jogger doing laps of the oval. Kate’s naughtiest alfresco experience was boinking on the steps of a church; someone upstairs had to be perving.
A friend of a friend got sprung in the Lake District in England – it was all very rustic and risqué, until she looked up to see a farmer sitting on his tractor half a field away, chewing on a blade of grass and watching the goings-on with great interest.
Alan’s experience takes the cake though. He’ll never look at picnic tables in quite the same way again after he and his girlfriend gave in to their carnal urges in a not-so-deserted beach barbeque area.
“We were sun-baking in the buff and got a bit frisky so we...er used the picnic table. We finished up only to find a family, picnic baskets in hand, struck dumb before us before they scurried away, complete traumatised. I think we may have turned them off their lunch.”
Or future picnics, at any rate.

** Your turn… ever gotten jiggy with it in the great outdoors? Or, for that matter, been caught?