Public Play

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Anyone that knows me would tell you that some of my biggest, personal kinks are never wearing panties, showing off my body like a slut, and masturbation. While there are reasons and context for all of those, the main reason I?m into those things is that it makes me feel sexy and confident. The thrill of talking with somebody, knowing that only the thinnest layer of cloth separates my nude body from their eyes, is such a turn-on. Seeing their eyes riveted to my ass, wondering if I?m wearing panties or not, instantly makes my pussy steaming wet. Strangers eyeing me up as I ?accidentally? bounce my braless boobs too much or bend deeply at the waist is always a thrill. I get so turned on over being desired that I just have to touch myself.As hot as all of that makes me, there?s another kink of mine that skyrockets my lust into orbit, increasing my self-induced arousal exponentially. If one adds the words, ?in public,? to any of my kinks, Mount Vesuvius erupts between my thighs. There?s a very good, insanely-hot reason for this, and the event is indelibly etched into my very psyche.I was seventeen at the time, but I vividly recall every detail. It was the night I encountered a woman that embodied all the scandalous, naughty things I secretly desired to be. She was so sexy, so brazen, invulnerably confident, and totally uninhibited. Meanwhile, I was struggling with accepting my sexual deviancy, and her actions opened my eyes and soul to the pleasures of being naughty in public.Less than a year prior, I had accidentally discovered the joys of flashing my body to unsuspecting but appreciative strangers. The thrilling rush of taboo shame, arousal, and naughtiness drove me insane. The first time it happened, in the local library, I panicked and ran out to the parking lot, hiding in my father?s truck. I sat there, vowing to never let it happen again when I was overcome with desperate, horny arousal. I fingered myself hard and fast, cumming more intensely than I ever had.Fifteen minutes later, I was seated at the local ice cream stand, intentionally flashing my soaked, red-haired pussy and getting off on the thrill. I fingered my aching kocaeli escort (https://pomada.org/) clit and fucked my drenched hole the entire drive home, then ran upstairs into my bedroom and fingered myself all through the night. The entire time, I was promising myself that I?d never flash anyone again. It was wrong, socially unacceptable, and I could get into trouble. I broke that promise the very next day by ?accidentally? wearing a shirt that was so loose my breasts were on display every time I bent forward and so thin that the curves of my less-than-ample boobs could be seen through the fabric.For months, I went on like that, totally addicted to the thrill. My routine became a daily ritual. I?d cruise through my school day, my mind on flashing my teenage pussy, and run to the library as soon as school was out. Some days I?d find a receptive ?victim,? and others, I?d practice. The key was to make it all seem unintentional. That way, I could claim innocence, plausible deniability, in case somebody got offended or complained. School ended, but I still went to the library almost every evening to flash.Sporadically, I?d stop by a little restaurant on the outskirts of town. While the main tourist action is more in the middle, southern portion of the state, the eastern portion has some of the best scenery you?ll ever see. Gently rolling Appalachian foothills growing into mountains, wooded and scenic, dominate the countryside. Streams, creeks, and rivers roll throughout the area, with little, charming small towns dotting the landscape. Just off the beaten paths, sprinkled throughout the territory, are copious amounts of cabins the owners rent out.If one wants opulence and all the touristy bells and whistles, they wouldn?t rent near my hometown. However, those that want the simpler, more rustic sort of experience or those on a budget scoop them up on the weekends and during hunting seasons. Little restaurants and country shops,*filled with country charm, dot the fringes of the towns. These are quiet, little nooks that mostly cater to visitors, all but shunned by the ?townies.?*There was one, in particular, where I?d hang out.The staff knew me kocaeli escort bayan (https://pomada.org/) on sight, always bringing me an endless glass of tea and a slice or two of pie, usually for free. Although I was quite tempted, I never flashed anyone in the restaurant. Usually, I?d flash in the library, sometimes the ice cream stand, and once or twice in the grocery store, then go to the restaurant and pretend to read while I replayed my naughty, taboo activities in my head. When I couldn?t stand it any longer, I?d speed home and finger my dripping cunt, fuck myself with my vibrator?a gift from my mother the day after she caught me masturbating?until the sun rose.On that particular Friday night, the restaurant was nearly empty. The staff was having a good time talking and joking with each other; I was nestled in a booth with my legs stretched out, feet on the seat, pretending to read The Hobbit for the fortieth time, and eating raspberry pie with a tall glass of blueberry tea. There was an elderly couple in the far corner, three older men, at least in their thirties, near the entrance, talking about fishing, and me near the back. There were a couple of tables directly in front of me, all empty.I was wearing a denim miniskirt, the hem all raggedy strings, and a Bon Jovi t-shirt. Don?t judge me; I like Hair Metal. I was practicing how far I needed to spread my legs before anyone could see up my skirt*while*tweaking my nipples to keep myself in a state of burning, volcanic lust until I got home.I?d successfully enthralled a gray-haired man in the library. He was perfect. When he caught the first glimpse of my fiery pubes, he dropped the book he was carrying and spent the better part of three minutes picking it up, his eyes riveted on my pussy. After that, he?d go out of his way to look at my cunt; I went out of my way to show it to him.When the tingling, burning need for an orgasm became unbearable, I left. What really got me worked up was the fact that as I left, he didn?t pretend to ignore me. As I strutted in front of him,*with as much sexy confidence as my seventeen-year-old, slutty ass could muster, he looked directly at me, his izmit escort (https://pomada.org/) eyes roaming up and down, finally meeting mine, with a huge, knowing smile on his face. I smiled back and then ran, full speed, out the door. Give me a break, I was still young. I needed to process this new development; he knew that I was doing it on purpose, and his appreciation made it all the hotter.I was thinking things over, imagining him looking up my skirt when they came into the restaurant. He was cute and handsome, in his early- to middle-twenties, with short, brown hair, a confident swagger, and nice muscles. He reminded me of an athlete. The woman oozed sex appeal; that?s the only way I can describe her.She was dressed in a paisley sundress with ruffled, very short sleeves. Buxom and curvy, showing lots of leg and cleavage, she had this aura of brazen sexuality about her. Aside from her long hair bleached to a vibrant yellow-blond and somewhat stark makeup, and, even those bits were tastefully done, she didn?t have a slutty vibe to her. However, there was something about her that instantly made you believe that she was horny as fuck and would gladly do things with and to you that you?ve never dreamed of, before. She radiated lust.They also disturbed my solace by being seated at the table directly in front of me. Technically, it was to the side of me, but I was reclining along the bench seat, so I was facing their table. He sat with his back to me, the woman sat mostly facing me, at a slight angle. They weren?t locals, obviously having rented a cabin for the weekend. From their conversation about how ?charming? the town was, and the features of the cabin, I figured out that they were at the Clark family?s cabin a couple of miles east.I pretended to read, both replaying my sexual endeavors in my head and eavesdropping on them. I grew instantly curious. She was obviously in control of the relationship; they were spending a weekend together at the cabin, and she was very horny as well as intoxicated. The things she said made me stop and stare for a moment, my head snapping back down, immediately, while I listened intently.?So,? she was telling her boyfriend in a husky voice, ?we?re all alone, nobody here knows us. What wild, kinky things do you want to do??Her beau was having difficulty following along. ?Um, ah,? he stuttered. ?What do you mean by wild and kinky??