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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago
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"A. Look on that there internet, you'll find all the quiet discreet locations plastered on all the public websites.
B. You'll go and sit in a dingy car-park, interpersed with other cars containing what look like creepy, dirty, disgusting, old wanky men. (Remember, they are all thinking the very same thing)
Sooner or later a lowered Vauxhall Nova will handbrake turn into the carpark, lights (and foglights)on full blast, containing 6 Asian youths, and emitting distorted Bhangra at ear-splitting levels. They will hammer round a few times before sliding to a halt and asking "Where's all the action then innit?" A couple of the dirty mac brigade (which you are definitely not, oh no, not you) who have got out of their cars to share a roll-up will try to ignore them, but eventually have to tell them it's a quiet night. The youths will leave in a cloud of rubber smoke.
After about an hour of listening to King Dogger, a geezer with a hacking cough, a greasy combover and carrying a rucksack which he calls his "Kitbag" (FFS, don't ask, or he'll empty it and dribble on about the best places to buy blankets with one water repellent side and wet wipes that are easy to get at with one hand in the dark), describing just how many nights of unbridled hot sex action with "really fit birds, and some couples too, even famous ones" he's had at that very spot.
"It's not normally this quiet, dunno what's wrong" he'll lie, before holding court about the night vision goggles he's ordered from Japan, while his Disciples of Dinge compare notes of "how many have you had?" or discuss the best kind of trackie bottoms to wear for instant cock springout coupled with one touch cover-up when it becomes obvious they've just flashed at an elderly matron on her way to Evening Mass.
It will start to drizzle, you will sit in your car listening to Radio 4, praying for something to happen, ANYTHING. Seasoned doggers will be snoozing under foil survival blankets, ready to spring into action at the first hint of tit.
At some point, a car will enter and slowly weave round the area, you will thumb your chubby out of your flies, then frantically thumb it back in again as the Panda Car cruises round, the occupants pissing themselves laughing at the carpark sex-cases who are pretending to be innocently passing the time away reading books about steam trains in that particular lay-by. If you're lucky, they won't be bothered to get out and warn you to be on your look-out for perverts in the area, smirking at your thermos flask until they realise it's not a dildo. Actually, the thermos flask is a worse item to have, it shows you are a hardcore dogger, in for the long game, a dogged dogger if you like. Ready to sit it out, by whatever menas necessary, whatever it takes, you'll be prepared to see it through, just to rub one out in the freezing cold while other people shag in their nice warm car. The flask might restore the feeling in your fingers, I shouldn't mock.
Hours will pass, "Sailing By" will wake you up, then perhaps an old Sierra estate will splutter into the car-park. There's a grubby old git in the driver's seat, who looks like he could be the King Dogger you spoke to earlier's Dad. No, can't be, because King Dogger is sprinting over to the Sierra and thumping the passenger side window with his flakey cock like a horny chimp at Twycross Zoo. You'll possibly be close enough to see he is wearing a pair of purple satin ladies briefs which his arse is trying to eat, his tackle spilling out the front of them, leaving greasy trails on the glass. It'll look disturbingly like that scene in Aliens where the hatchling is in the bell jar in the lab and tries to attach itself to anyone who comes close to the glass. You'll know exactly the scene I mean, I assure you.
Anyway, inside the car will be a woman with Barbara Windsor style hair, and the other doggers will be marking scores in their notebooks, just like when they were train spotters (and before they were banned from trainspotting for being TOO creepy  )
It'll look vaguely like newly hatched birds in a nest, all fighting for a feed, only in reverse, they are all trying to feed the occupant of the car their worm. One by one, they'll spew their goo all over the place, you'll see silvery glistening cum trails across the back of King Dogger's purple satin panties and you'll KNOW it's not his. He won't care, he'll pop in less than a minute, pull up his trackies then stand about braying with another Johnny Cum-Quick about the difficulties of bleeding the brakes ona Sierra estate, putting all the lesser doggers off their stroke. You'll perhaps hesitate about sticking your cock in through the car window, maybe a bad feeling comes over you? (Better than someone with bad aim, I say). The window closes, the shop is shut for the night, the red-faced old man starts the shitheap up and as it chugs past you, standing there with wilting cock in your hand, in the rain, you'll see Babs whip "her" wig off and you'll come to the conclusion the occupants were probably brothers, and it will be the other brother's turn in the wig tomorrow night, if the weeping sores on his lips aren't giving him too much gyp.
King Dogger is filling in the details of a pre-printed Dogging Report with a bookies biro, proclaiming tonight to be a real result, a sign that there ARE some real players out there, and some incredibly horny nympho chicks, just gagging for it.
At that point, the Nova returns, followed by another, and another, it's like Attack of The Clones. They spot the Sierra chugging away and howl off in pursuit, certain that the best way to get some action is to follow, inches behind the Sierra, lights on full. Yep, that'll work.
You'll get back in your car, and realise you have to be up for work in five hours, your balls ache, you have the start of a cold and you also have a puncture. Not only that, while you have been watching the tramps' tea-party, some fucker has stuck a note on your windscreen proclaiming "PERVERT! THE OWNER OF THIS CAR MASTURBATES IN PUBLIC CAR PARKS!" with superglue. Four weeks later, you may have managed to remove the final traces from your glass, but the memory of the phenomena of dogging will remain forever.
C. Invite? Are you sure???
Have fun.
Your experience may differ from the one described here... but not much.  "
OMG!!!! You are sooooo funny!!! l've been howling with laughter reading your little gem, absolutely love it. More stories please  |
The best way is to just go out and about and have a look around.
Thats what we have done and it's worked for us 
