THE SEX DIARIES: He unzipped my jeans. It was strange and exciting to have the Brecon Beacon winds on areas that never normally see the light of day…

I have always loved the idea of ​​having sex outdoors. It is healthy, but also a little naughty. But as a mother of three, outdoor sex was out of the question for a long time; when I did have time outside, it was spent on a playground.

But now that I’m divorced and it’s summer, my mind has turned to it again. So far, I’ve only managed to seduce my young sweetheart Eliot in a tent.

I hope for more, but I have to admit that my most successful date so far was with my ex-husband Simon.

It was 2008 and we had slipped away for a solo holiday to Croatia, leaving our eldest and only son, Hector, aged two, with my mother.

My libido soared and one morning as Simon and I were swimming in the pleasant waters of the Adriatic Sea, I pulled him over the other swimmers and put my arms around him.

It was hard to shake the fear that someone might emerge from behind a boulder, writes Annabel Bond of her outdoor adventure

Sex in the sea would be lovely, I thought. The water was body temperature and provided an element of buoyancy. And even though we were outside, no one could see what we were doing.

Simon had amazing lips that were wonderful to kiss in the salty sun. It felt romantic to wrap my legs around his waist and look into his eyes as we held each other in a marital embrace.

But there was the problem of his swimming trunks, they were bulky, and when we started having sex it was hard to get a grip, with water coming in and out. We were out of our depth, so the movement in the ocean wasn’t that great either.

But it counted! A notch on my bedpost was now labelled ‘alfresco’. And it was certainly more successful than the first time we had tried it five years earlier, in Wales.

In hindsight, the Brecon Beacons may not have been the wisest choice, but spring is so fertile there and so much life bursts from every crevice that our sap inevitably started flowing too.

We were heading toward the top of the mountain, the hills spread out below us like a green picnic blanket, when we looked at each other and raised our eyebrows.

There was no one in sight for miles, except sheep. Hopefully their sense of decency wouldn’t be affected by outdoor sex.

When we arrived at a clifftop viewpoint, it seemed perfect.

But the sunny weather was gone – a stiff wind was blowing through my hair, the clouds were threatening to rain and it was muddy underfoot.

It was also hard to shake the fear of someone emerging from behind a boulder. We gave some hikers a shock they would never forget.

It's worth remembering that my ex-husband and I were once so in love that we tried to have sex in the Brecon Beacons and were only thwarted by the British weather

It’s worth remembering that my ex-husband and I were once so in love that we tried to have sex in the Brecon Beacons and were only thwarted by the British weather

But in the spirit of the British, we continued, even though we did not give up.

I sat down with my back to the view, while Simon watched the path in case there were any unsuspecting hikers.

He unzipped my jeans. It was strange and exciting to have wind in places that normally never saw daylight.

But my jeans were skinny, as was the fashion at the time, and his influence was limited. I didn’t want to let my pants fall all the way down. That would certainly frighten the horses – and the sheep.

I closed my eyes. Think of sexy things! Nature was blooming. I was a child of nature. Birds do it, bees do it. Maybe a handsome farmer would come and look at us… wait, was there a farmer looking at us?

I opened my eyes. No, thank God. But I just couldn’t concentrate anymore.

The increasingly worsening weather seemed to be a bit too cold for Simon too.

And I was starting to worry about having to go back down the hill in soaked jeans. Soon Simon gently admitted, ‘It’s okay, honey, I don’t think I can do it either.’

Still, it’s worth remembering that after all these years, Simon and I were once so in love that we tried to have sex in the Brecon Beacons, but it was only the British weather that stopped us.

But even in beautiful Croatia I have to admit that it was better when Simon and I got back together in our bedroom.

It was located right on the harbour on the island of Hvar – almost like being outside, but with cushions and privacy.

The sunlight fell heavily on our bodies, a cool breeze blew the curtains open. I was wonderfully relaxed and my orgasm was one of the most intense I have ever had. I was happy, in love with my husband.

I didn’t know then that our happiness wouldn’t last forever, but the memory of that moment did, and that’s something.

Annabel Bond is a pseudonym. Names have been changed.