I’ve always been drawn to the thrill. I started watching thrillers and horror films, alone, since the tender age of one. Halloween was my favorite holiday, up until it stopped being about walking around a new neighborhood and absorbing the spooky atmosphere that made that one night a year so magical, and became an annual skimpy costume competition. Roller-coaster drops that sent tingles up and down my spine but always ended too quickly. Pitch-black haunted houses where hidden ghouls jump out to grab on to you that lasted a little too long. Now don’t go on thinking that I would carry through these events undaunted. No, I was scared shitless, keeping my eyes closed the whole time, but I fucking loved it. I didn’t grow up to become the ultimate thrill seeker, I haven’t bungeed or parachuted, and although the idea can at times be momentarily appealing, I know that I would probably never make the jump, because, well, vertigo. Instead, I’ve grown a deep-seated fondness of unlawful carnal knowledge – unlawful, because they take place in public spaces. Getting fingered at the bar, stroking a cock to its fullest attention under the table at a restaurant (bonus if Michelin stars are involved), getting eaten out in a dark alley, giving a blow job in a taxi, fucking in the conference room at work, have a go at it late at night in a park, being taken doggy style in a parking lot, riding to a shattering orgasm in the back row of the movies, getting it hard with my back against a bathroom stall, a sauna wall…these thrilling affairs are exhilarating, intoxicating, hair-raising, bond-strengthening, to say the least. Hence, I confess that I am, indeed, a brazen public sex devotee.
All images from Sex.com