There’s nothing like the country air to get you frisky.
Not long after we’d been married we took a cottage holiday in bayhill, based on a farm. The couple who owned the farm and the five cottages on its 30acres were a delight, and by mid-week, we realized that we were the only ones on their estate, the owners having gone off to a three day show in the Midlands.
That morning we had a long lay in, having walked miles the previous afternoon and had plenty of the local Scrumpy in the evening, to help wash down our BBQ. As I got ready suddenly across my mind flashed a fantasy I’d had since I was a teenager: I’d always wanted to have sex in a barn amongst stacks of hay.