As some of you might aready know, I dig fooling around in public. Something about the idea of risking to get caught makes it crazy exciting. Now I know standing still in the center of town blows up that risk a lot, so I figured: why not go for a walk instead?
It was a warm spring evening (it had been wickedly hot during the day) and I had nothing better to do than sitting on my couch, looking at naughty gifs, waiting for myself to become so horny I could finish it off. But before that happened, I came across a short video of a girl playing with herself on the corner of a busy street.
I was like: hey I can do that too? I kicked off my panties, put on a pair of lazy shorts, grabbed my tiniest buzzbuzz toy and went out. Now, I live in a busy part of a big city, and there were way too many people in my street to even think about starting. But as soon as I went around a corner, into a slightly less well-known street, gaps started to form in the ocean of peoplez.
As soon as a gap would open up, I would perform the same ritual: Wait two seconds, look back to see if no one was behind, look forward again to double-check, and slip my hand inside my shorts. Every single time, my go-to reaction was to stop, lean against a store’s wall and get to it, but that wouldn’t be the smartest of ideas. I had to keep moving.
I had touched myself on the move before, that was only on short distances – like jumping around the bed to change positions with bf-like boys or walking to the fridge to grab more wine during a long solo session. This was different.
The fact that I had to keep looking around for unwanted company didn’t make it easier. When you’re playing with yourself in public, you start realizing how often people jump out of small alleys, houses, crossroads and shops. I must have looked like a total wacko, like a first-day spy desperately looking for a bathroom.
But boy, was it hawt.
Alone at last
Being born and raised in my city, I know pretty much every road, big or small, especially in my neighborhood. I know there are plenty of small streets in between the houses, streets where no one ever wanders but the people who live there. I walked into one of those streets, and for the first time since I had left the apartment, I didn’t see anybody. Not a soul.
For a moment, I didn’t have to think about people creeping up at me from behind. There were no doors. There were no crossroads. There was just me. I grabbed the toy out of my pocket and turned it on. It almost made no sound, and the cars behind me easily drowned its buzzing. I started walking more slowly, both hands in my shorts – one to spread my little cushions, the other to hold my vibrating lover against my you-know-what.
The closer I came to the next road, the slower I walked, but eventually, I arrived at another crossing. I had to mingle in with the crowd once more. I held the toy in place and pulled up my shorts as far as I could. Then I went around the corner.
The shorts were showing a massive amount of butt. I looked like a penguin, waddling over the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact with everyone. The toy was buzzing in my shorts, and hit the fun spot with every step I took.
Things got awkward when I was waiting for a red light to turn green. A collegue showed up next to me, and it wasn’t long before he recognized me. There were no alleys to turn into for quite a while, and so when the light turned green, we walked together.
Problem was: Mr. Buzziez was doing its thing, and I was getting to a point one doesn’t wanna get to when taking to a collegue. I had to let him do the talking, ‘cuz I could barely say a thing – except maybe “Shut up and fuck meeeeee”.
When he fiiiiiiiiinally took a left turn, I waved him goodbye and walked in the opposite direction.
The main road was a lot more crowded than I had hoped. Then again, I thought, what’s the fun in hiding when you want to do bad things in public?
That was the realization I needed. I blended in with the crowd, walking side by side with strangers, avoiding oncoming pedestrians. The toy kept buzzing, and brought me closer and closer to the end. The people that decided to look at me could probably have seen the weirdest look on my face as I was getting ready for my big moment.
And then it hit.
I couldn’t keep walking. I stood still in the middle of the sidewalk, my body quivering. People stopped and looked at me, but I barely noticed them. The orgasm was still raging through my body when I felt a hand on my back, and heard a voice asking if I was feeling okay. I nodded, stuttered something about hyperventilation, and stared at the pavement until the waves finally eased down.
But the most awkward thing was still to come. See, after an orgasm, my hidden parts get so friggin’ sensitive, I can barely stand the touch of a finger. This time, however, it was a mad buzzing toy torturing my over-ticklish girly bits.
I quickly thanked the concerned guy and walked – well, pretty much sprinted – towards the next alley. I was so happy to see no one in it, so I could finally reach into my shorts and get the tickle monster out. I stood there for a bit, breathing heavily, which changed into a few good chuckles. Then I started waking home.
It must have been one of the strangest orgasms I have ever had.
But good heavens. I wanna do it again.