I am a female executive and I dress somewhat conservatively, so no one would ever guess that I’m naked under my skirt. I attend management meetings where most of the other staff members are male. They haven’t a clue that I’m sitting among them, all horny, with my knees wide apart under the table, my pussy juices flowing down to my thigh hi stockings, even while I’m discussing such mundane things as budgets and deadlines. It’s hard to describe how utterly stimulating it is for me to dress like this, except to say it’s the best thing that’s ever brought me to climax. I walk by men, and then I’ll do something like bend over or sit on a bench and open my legs. I never look at the men; it would be too embarrassing, but I know they're looking at my nasty, naked pussy. Sometimes I shave it completely bare for the effect it has on them. Then, just rubbing my thighs together can make me cum after only a few minutes. I never talk to the men; they never talk to me—we know this is an anonymous game.
The strongest reaction I ever had from a guy was that one time this black man caught me rubbing my thighs together on a park bench. I didn’t know he had seen me ******** my pussy and rubbing myself though my short skirt. I happened to look up, self-absorbed in the feelings that I was getting from masturbating right out in public, and saw him staring right at me (well, actually he was looking up my skirt!) and he had the most intense look on his face!
I was shocked at being seen, and my immediate reaction was to close my thighs and for some reason fold my arms about my breasts (I wasn’t wearing a bra either, and my nipples involuntarily perked up and out). I was so flushed, and wanted to just get up and leave, but it was if I was frozen to the bench.
His eyes slowly moved upwards—he was giving himself a good picture of my body, as if scanning me like a machine would. I waited, almost in panic until his gaze met mine. Our eyes met—his were confident, mine were in fear from having been watched doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.
And then… well, he looked directly into my face, and at the same time, his hand moved down across his stomach to his crotch! He began to rhythmically stroke himself, slowly at first, then more insistently, until it was obvious that he was returning the favor he’d watch me do for him!
The look on his face became masked in erotic need, and his thighs spread apart. He was blatantly jacking himself off, right there in front of me, where anyone else who came into the area might also see him!
My hand seemed to have a mind of it’s own. I began to work on myself again, down into my secret valley. My own legs again gapped open, to give this stranger a close-up view of the stream of juices that had already begun to escape my cunt. We respected the invisible line in this situation, each seeming to know that to attempt actual contact would break the delicate spell we had cast. His eyes took in my exhibitionist offerings, and we worked our way to orgasms in sympathy with each others gutteral moanings and gyrations.
We seemed to cum simultaneously, our bodies wracked with sexual emotions and abandonment, right there in the park. Afterwards, I couldn’t bring myself to look at the stranger again. I quickly regained some measure of composure, straightened my clothes, and left the bench.
After I moved a ‘safe’ distance, I turned and looked back at the black stranger. He had moved over to the bench I had occupied, and was again looking at me, while working his cock, straining towards another orgasm. Emboldened, I took out a cleaning towel and wiped the insides of my thoroughly wet pussy with it. I laid it on a bench for him, and sauntered away…
I just wanted to share this—to let you know that you men are not the only perverts out here!
The strongest reaction I ever had from a guy was that one time this black man caught me rubbing my thighs together on a park bench. I didn’t know he had seen me ******** my pussy and rubbing myself though my short skirt. I happened to look up, self-absorbed in the feelings that I was getting from masturbating right out in public, and saw him staring right at me (well, actually he was looking up my skirt!) and he had the most intense look on his face!
I was shocked at being seen, and my immediate reaction was to close my thighs and for some reason fold my arms about my breasts (I wasn’t wearing a bra either, and my nipples involuntarily perked up and out). I was so flushed, and wanted to just get up and leave, but it was if I was frozen to the bench.
His eyes slowly moved upwards—he was giving himself a good picture of my body, as if scanning me like a machine would. I waited, almost in panic until his gaze met mine. Our eyes met—his were confident, mine were in fear from having been watched doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.
And then… well, he looked directly into my face, and at the same time, his hand moved down across his stomach to his crotch! He began to rhythmically stroke himself, slowly at first, then more insistently, until it was obvious that he was returning the favor he’d watch me do for him!
The look on his face became masked in erotic need, and his thighs spread apart. He was blatantly jacking himself off, right there in front of me, where anyone else who came into the area might also see him!
My hand seemed to have a mind of it’s own. I began to work on myself again, down into my secret valley. My own legs again gapped open, to give this stranger a close-up view of the stream of juices that had already begun to escape my cunt. We respected the invisible line in this situation, each seeming to know that to attempt actual contact would break the delicate spell we had cast. His eyes took in my exhibitionist offerings, and we worked our way to orgasms in sympathy with each others gutteral moanings and gyrations.
We seemed to cum simultaneously, our bodies wracked with sexual emotions and abandonment, right there in the park. Afterwards, I couldn’t bring myself to look at the stranger again. I quickly regained some measure of composure, straightened my clothes, and left the bench.
After I moved a ‘safe’ distance, I turned and looked back at the black stranger. He had moved over to the bench I had occupied, and was again looking at me, while working his cock, straining towards another orgasm. Emboldened, I took out a cleaning towel and wiped the insides of my thoroughly wet pussy with it. I laid it on a bench for him, and sauntered away…
I just wanted to share this—to let you know that you men are not the only perverts out here!
