Moaningful Confessions | Issue 4

Moaningful Confessions | Issue 4

I don’t know what the place is called, but if you walk up that fuck off hill from Arana – up past the cemetery and to the top of where the botans begin/ends – there is this field. I drive past it all the time to get to the supermarket without having to deal with all the traffic on the one-way systems. Anyway. My new boyfriend and I were getting hot and heavy at the flat as you do when we get a message from some mutual mates saying they were headed to the Buddahs (they’re not actually Buddahs) up at Signal Hill lookout. By that stage he and I were fucking twice a day minimum, so thought ok we should probably be social.


Except we are both horny, and honestly, all the way down the driveway and to the car I’m thinking, there is no way I’m going to be able to drive safely. Girls don’t get hard like guys do but our coochies puff up for sure. I felt like I was sitting deadass two inches from the seat itself. The vibrations of the car beneath me made me lose my mind. We passed that field and I just said, fuck it, and turned around and pulled into the carpark. Me and my mans were giggling all the way to the other side of the field and to one of the rugby posts. I beant over, clinging to the post for stability, while he took me from behind. The whole thing was so exciting that I came before him, which almost never happens. 10/10 definitely going back.


It was warm Dunedin summer night when the boy I was seeing and I remembered the bet that had been placed between his flatmates. The bet being who could dust somebody on the cricket pitch across from their flat on Harbour Terrace first.


Competitive and (kinky) me was determined that we were going to win this bet. The field being slightly wet meant a flatmates blanket was stolen from the lounge and dragged across to the field. Things proceed as they do, then next thing you know I’m getting fucked doggy looking out onto harbour terrace. Surprisingly quite liberating. The field was wet and so was I. A weird experience but one I can now say has happened. I think I’ll be the first and possibly only person to be fucked at the end of a cricket pitch, on a borrowed blanket AND wearing my chunky filas.


It was videoed and showed to the other flatmates as proof, we are yet to get anything for winning the bet. But the sex was pretty damn good so that’ll be enough for now.


This article first appeared in Issue 4, 2020.
Posted 6:43pm Thursday 12th March 2020 by Critic.