I work in an office in the centre of a small town and, at lunchtimes, I like to get out of the office and go for a walk. I like to go down to the nearby park, picking up a sandwich on the way and sit on a bench till it's time to get back.
Now, I admit that I can be a horny bitch and from time to time I get those feelings. This is especially true when its a hot day and my mind has been wandering as I watch people go by. I think about how people look without their clothes (men and women) and how they moan when they fuck. This summer, I have been known to sit on the park bench and, if I'm wearing trousers, I will slip down my zipper and slide a hand inside with my free hand over the top. To passers-by, it looks like I simply have my hands clasped in my lap but in reality, I am running a finger up and down my slit, spreading my growing wetness and teasing my clit. I love doing this as people pass close by. If only they knew what I was doing right then!
I usually get pretty close to orgasm but never quite get there. I walk back to the office feeling my wetness as I walk and try to keep myself on the edge as I work the rest of the day out. When I get home, soaking wet and horny as hell, I give myself a really good seeing to with my dildo.
This was the scene recently when I was in the park as usual with the warm sun beating down on me as I leaned back on my favourite bench. It's in the corner of the park and covered on two sides by bushes. I slid back on the bench a little and pulled down my zip and slipped a hand inside. I watched people going to and fro but they were all too lost in their own worlds to notice me as I slid my fingers up and down my slit, spreading my wetness. I was tingling all over as I slowly rubbed my clit, feeling its hardness and sensitivity.
I noticed a guy in a suit walking across the park and wondered about the size of his cock and how much noise he made as he shot his load... except he didn't just walk on. He changed course and came up to me. I stopped rubbing and removed my hand as nonchalantly as possible.
“Excuse me. Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked in a Hugh Grant sort of way.
“No problem,” I said, seething with frustration at being interrupted. He sat at the opposite end of the bench.
We both sat there looking into the distance and enjoying the sun for a few minutes.
Then he said, “I couldn't help noticing that you had your hand in your trousers earlier.” That Hugh Grant accent again. How much did he see??? How many others saw it too??? I flushed with embarrassment.
“Please, don't mind me. Do carry on.”
I was speechless. What do you do when someone invites you to masturbate in front of them? Not being able to think of an alternative, I said, “errm, thanks” and slid my hand back in my trousers. My clit was doing some serious throbbing now as I flinched at my own touch and started to gently rub myself, trying not to appear too eager.
We both looked off into the distance again as I worked on myself, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Then he said, “Would you mind awfully if I did the same?”
Speechless again.
“Errm, no, do.”
At which, he pulled down his zip and reached a hand inside his trousers.
I looked across as he pumped his hand up and down slowly inside his trousers. He turned and saw me looking but didn't say anything as we both looked forward again, rubbing ourselves self consciously and me dripping and close to orgasm because it all felt so surreal and erotic.
This went on for a few minutes and then his phone beeped an alarm. He pulled out his hand saying, “Oh, goodness me, I have to get back.” At which, he stood up, zipped up and walked away with a considerable bulge in his trousers.
I felt strangely disappointed that it was all over. It was also time for me to get back, so I zipped up and walked to the office. I couldn't get much done for the rest of the day as I re-lived this odd exchange. There was no way I was going to wait to get home to finish my unfinished business. I nipped off to the toilets with a roll-on deodorant and stuffed it into my pussy till I came. Once home, I continued to work on my pussy till I'd cum a few more times and was as sore as hell.
It was a few days later before the weather was warm enough for me to enjoy the park again. I went to my usual bench and sat down, wondering if my mystery man would show up again. It wasn't long before I realised I was not to be disappointed.
Once again, he came and sat at the other end of my bench after first asking if it was OK. We both looked off into the distance, lost in our own thoughts and my pussy starting to twitch.
Then he said, “about the other day...” Is he going to apologize? “Could we do it again, please?”