As a rule, I have lived a charmed life, and as such have always stayed out of trouble, and that includes abiding by the law. However, there is one sort of gray area that my husband and I like to cross, and that is something called Urban Exploring. That is where you go into abandoned places like houses, industrial plants, and old factories, and explore the location. It is against the law because it is Trespassing even though we never take anything from the place except pictures and memories, and leave only footprints. For me that is often unique looking footprints because I love to do photo shoots and thus wear formal clothes and stilettos.

In doing photo shoots, there really is only one element when it is all boiled down, and that is contrast. It might just be capturing various wavelengths of light, but it is the contrast between those wavelengths that make a photo appear in the first place. And what better way to make a photo consisting of contrast even better, than to add contrast as the subject matter. In an old abandoned factory, the lines about the place are always straight, square and plumb, whereas the female human form contrasts that with plenty of curves and fluidity. In a factory long shuttered; steel is rusting, wood is decaying, and time has placed its stamp of proof with loads of dust, so the contrast of having me explore the place in vibrant formal clothing, truly stands out

There is another side to exploring old buildings in this manner that I enjoy, and that is how vulnerable I feel doing so. Already precariously perched upon high heels that are difficult to walk in, on the cracked pavement and debris-ridden floors of an abandoned building, it is only magnified. Every step must be calculated with the utmost care so my path is carefully calculated before I make any step. Yet with such fulsome upon the floors, I cannot exactly slip my shoes off and go barefoot eitheror if I do, I am just as vulnerable. Dressed in short skirts or tight micro-dresses that make for more interesting photos, that same eye-candy may be a liability should I stumble upon the homeless, or the police wondering if my profession is of the oldest variety, and not me merely enjoying an old factory for all its musings. I actually enjoy that sort vulnerable feeling, and find it sexually exciting.

One of the first places we ever visited was on old factory where they processed food, and for two hours we explored the place. We found it fascinating with how much debris was inside, the number of personal affects that was left, and honestly; the staggering amount of paperwork that the office staff had filed away over the years that did not mean one blessed thing once the plant was closed. About twenty years had passed since its closing, and to see the photos of children taped inside employee's lockers was interesting, and yet also sad, as those same children were now adults, and working in their careersintriguing to think of in those terms.

For this urban exploration I was dressed in a black top knot top with a sweater-shawl over it, a red miniskirt, black pantyhose and matching black stilettos; meager clothing considering how cold it was outside. There was not only snow on the ground, but actually snow falling from the sky it was so cold. After two hours my feet were like blocks of ice and I really needed to get warmed up, and I knew exactly how. Whenever I explore an old building, I get really turned on, and this was no exception. I think my husband does as well, probably from me so scantily clad in such a vile location. I tend to be pretty open minded, and have had sex in places some prudish woman would not even step into, but in this factory, there really was no way we could. It was so darn cold, and there really was no place to do it. However, as all woman know, just because it is inconvenient for us; when our husbands reach a certain point of eroticism, we are obligated to take care of them. For me, this can be delivered in a variety of ways, but in this factory, it was through a blowjob. I am not sure what it is about them, but I love giving them.

I think it is because they too, are filled with irony; I am on my knees in the most submissive of positions, having a man deep in my mouth, receiving no direct sexual pleasure of my own; yet feeling so powerful because I know just before release I could ask for a new house and probably be granted it. They do however, really turn me on when I give one, and while I am not so conceited to say I give the best blowjobs there is, the fact that I want to give them, speaks volumes I think, as a good blowjob cannot be delivered by someone who is not really into it.

In this situation it was messy. Not so much in terms as what is seen on here, where the woman might be in deep mud or slime, but it was not the ideal location to kneel and deliver it either. Dust lay an inch deep from twenty years of neglect, shards of glass lay about everywhere, and trash littered the area. As cold as it was, neither one of us were about to shed any clothing either, so I could have something to kneel on, and honestly, I am not sure that my husband wanted me too. He never called me a dirty slut, but I wonderfully felt like one with my knees on such gritty, cold and foul concrete as he lowered his pants and I took him into my mouth.

I have toyed with myself using my favorite silicone friend many times thinking about giving that blowjob. We were so scared that at any moment the police might show up, someone having seen us drive into the plant, and called the police to investigate. There was also the possibility of having some homeless guy staggered in as I showed my devotion to my husband with the use of my mouth. Then of course there was just the euphoric feeling of doing something so wrong, breaking the law and adding a sexual element to it. While just giving him a blowjob was the best thing for that moment, had he suggested something else; an even more sordid sexual act, I was so turned on at that point, that I would have done it.

So, for many on here, this might not be that messy of a story, but it was hardly a bedroom of clean, crisp sheets and a fresh vacuumed carpet that I gave him a blow in either. And while I wish I could say for you guys that love such a thing, that I let him send his seed splashing all over my face; I was actually a good girl and swallowed it down. Of course, for most on here, that is hardly being a good girl at all, but I am not going to say something else happened just to impress people. For those that are into such details, I admit that all things considered, I do not mind swallowing afterwards. It is not a huge amount anyway, and is not all that flavorful, and seems far more lady-like to just swallow it down then hold it in my mouth looking for a place to spit. Men seem to like it better as well, and considering all he has done for me, it is the least I can do for my husband, and yes even in an old abandoned factory.