[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Moving on to strange places for sex and other naughty things: My first wife and I started courting in Washington, DC, in the later 1950s. In those times public attitudes toward sex, including pre-marital sex, were almost unbelievably different from attitudes nowadays, and we thought of our pre-marital lovemaking as something very daring indeed. To give you the flavor of the times, I can tell you that although we were both over 25 (she was a few months older than I), I had made love with only two previous women--with one of them about a dozen times and with the other only twice--and my wife-to-be had had intercourse with three previous men, but only once each with two of them and with the third only a few times. It gave me great pride that I was the first man with whom she reached orgasm. That background makes it all the stranger for me to recall that a couple of times we dared to go beyond intercourse in private in either of our two apartments and actually did it more or less in public. [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The first time was an early summer weekend when we went camping in the Virginia mountains, on a hillside just off the Appalachian Trail. We got there in late afternoon and soon found a suitable campsite on a slope down a bit from the Trail. The site wasn't directly visible from the Trail, but anyone who left the Trail and walked about 20 or 30 feet in the right direction could have seen it. With the tent up and supper eaten, it was still early enough in the evening for bright sunlight. We got to kissing and exciting ourselves, and pretty soon we dragged an air mattress and a sleeping bag out of the too-hot-for-comfort tent, spread them on a patch of fairly flat ground, got naked, and had a very satisfying session of lovemaking. The Trail wasn't so heavily used in those days as it is now, but had anybody come along, left the Trail to get a better view of the panorama, and happened to glance in the right direction through the shrubbery, they could have seen us. We were just too absorbed in each other--figuratively and physically--to care. What's more, we did the same thing the next morning and the following evening. I think we were almost hoping to be seen flaunting public opinion, but in retrospect, it was a very foolish and potentially dangerous thing to do, and I certainly wouldn't dream of doing anything like that these days (well, maybe, in a much more remote location). Those were gentler times. <sigh>[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]On a weekend morning later that same summer, we went canoeing in the Potomac River near Cabin John, MD. It was a stretch of river though a park area, with no residences close to the river. We stopped at a small, rocky islet, tied up, and walked around the islet. That took probably no more than 5 minutes, and we wound up standing leaning against a large boulder, over which we had a good view of the opposite side of the river. Again, we started kissing and exciting ourselves. We were both wearing hiking shorts and loose shirts. Pretty soon I had pulled her shorts down a bit and unzipped them, then did the same with my own shorts and inserted my penis into her vagina; she was delightfully well lubricated, despite the quickness and unusualness of the situation. My hands were on her breasts, under her shirt though over her bra (darn it), and anyone looking our way through binoculars could have figured out what we were doing. I cummed, but she didn't; she said she enjoyed it but was just too uncomfortable, with her back against the rock, to cum. We made up for her failure to orgasm when we got back to her apartment later that day. [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Naughty in a different sense was the fact that throughout our nine months of courtship (we had known each other for two years before we got serious) we never used a condom or other birth-control method (this was about 10 years before "the pill" became available). We had no doubt of each other's freedom from any of the then known STDs (this was at least 20 years before AIDS became a concern), and she was then a Roman Catholic. (I was raised a Protestant, but had previously gotten engaged to another Catholic girl and gone through the required course of instruction in Catholicism, the results of which were that I became an agnostic and the engagement was broken--a week before the wedding!) I was so crazy in love with my wife-to-be that I kept hoping that she would become pregnant, which I thought would help overcome her initial reluctance to marry me. She never became pregnant during our courtship, though her period was a bit late once and she took a dose of quinine as a supposed abortifacient (at that time quinine was thought to be an abortifacient, but it's now known to be ineffective for that purpose). In any case, Ieventually overcame her reluctance, we got married, and our first child was born about 13 months after our wedding.[/FONT]