It is Saturday afternoon, and I walk down Oxford Street, which is thronged as usual with busy shoppers. It is a warm day, and the sun feels good on my skin. I am wearing a cute red eighties rah-rah skirt that I found last week in a vintage boutique in Covent Garden, and comfy slingback sandals. My hair is tried up with a red ribbon, matching the skirt. The skirt shows off my long legs and smooth thighs, although it is just long enough to conceal the fact that I am not wearing any knickers.

Apart from this, I am completely naked.

My bare 32B breasts jiggle slightly as I stroll along the pavement. People are looking at me, of course, but it's not just my partial nudity that attracts their attention. They are fascinated by the fact that both my face and my firm little breasts are covered in fresh semen. Thick ropes of creamy-white ejaculate are splattered across my face, some sticking to my forehead and cheeks and dripping off my chin, other droplets clinging to my nose and eyelashes. Some of it I know is even in my hair.

There is even more semen on my breasts, strings of it sprayed across the pale mounds. Creamy gobbets coat my pale pink nipples and areolas, which are hard with excitement. Some of the semen is starting to drip off the tips of my little breasts onto my firm tummy.

The stares I get from the passing shoppers turn to smiles as they see how unashamed I am of the sexual nature of my exposure, and how I revel in their attention. I want them to stare at me, and every glance increases my arousal. I stop to look in the window of Topshop, and see my proud semi-naked body reflected back at me.

I turn up Great Portland Street, and push open the door of the Costa Coffee shop. The barista smiles as I order a large cappuccino, with a salted caramel brownie as a special treat.

“May I?” she asks, stretching out her index finger towards my breasts.

“Of course.”

She runs her finger gently across the smooth skin of my right breast and scoops up a small gobbet of semen. She holds it up to her face, opens her mouth, and inserts the finger right up to the second knuckle. She sucks it, withdraws the clean finger, then swallows.

I tap my card to pay, collect my coffee and brownie, and walk to a table by the window. I sit, and watch as a little blob of semen drips off my breast onto the tabletop.

The coffee tastes good, and I savour the rich, piquant flavour. My appearance has given the other customers in the shop a new topic of conversation, and I hear whispers, see glances of interest. Then a young woman, who has been sitting at a nearby table with some friends, comes over to me.

“We want our boyfriends to add to your decoration,” she said. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, I’d be honoured.”

She goes back with the message, and two young men get up from the table. They stand on either side of me, unzip their trousers and take out their penises. Both are already semi-erect, and with just a few strokes they have swollen to their full size. One is thin but around eight inches long, while the other is thicker and about an inch shorter.

The two men stroke their penises proudly while I watch, sipping my coffee and nibbling at my brownie. In other circumstances, I’d like to have put them in my mouth but my rule when exposing myself like this is “no touching”. But I am allowed to touch myself, so I lift up the front of my skirt and play with my clitoris, occasionally lubricating it with juices from my vagina, which is even frothier than my cappuccino. The fap, fap, fap sound of their masturbation is very arousing, and both smooth knob-heads are soon slick with a coating of pre-cum.

The owner of the longest of the two penises is breathing heavily and starting to rub harder, approaching his orgasm.

“Can I come on your face?” he gasps.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

I turn my face towards him. My heart is beating wildly, and I strum the firm bud of my clitoris harder as he stops rubbing and points his smooth purple knob at me. With a gasp he ejaculates, and I watch the first rope of semen shoot out and feel it splatter across my cheek. Several more ropes follow, and I open my mouth to catch one of the creamy loops with my tongue. The smell of fresh ejaculate fills my nostrils.

The sight of his friend’s ejaculation seems to spur the other masturbator to one final effort. He rubs the tip of his penis against my left nipple, getting a little blob of semen on his helmet.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he mumbles, then it is his turn to shoot his load. His creamy emission shoots right across both of my breasts, decorating them with several fresh strings of semen. As he does so, I give my clitoris a final rub and reach my own orgasm, my body shaking as it fizzes through my body like an electric shock.

As my orgasm subsides, and I feel the warm liquid start to run down my breasts, I hold up what is left of my brownie, and the second man squeezes the final gobbets of his semen onto my treat. While my two admirers tuck their wilting penises back into their trousers and return to their table, I eat the last creamy bites, savouring the extra salty tang of my special icing.

There is a murmur of admiration from the other people in the shop, in appreciation of our display. I quietly finish my coffee and leave, ready to continue my walk, my face and breasts suitably refreshed. The day isn’t over yet.