Public Masturbation: Must-Have Best Guide

So this public masturbation thing happened last week when I was walking home through that little park near my apartment, the one with the tall hedges that make you feel hidden even though you’re right off the main road. I’d been thinking about it all day, that restless buzz under my skin, and I just couldn’t wait anymore. I found this bench tucked behind a big oak, sat down, and slid my hand under my skirt like it was the most natural thing in the world. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it, but the risk made everything sharper, more intense. I was already wet, and the cool air on my thighs mixed with the heat between my legs sent this shiver straight up my spine. I kept it slow at first, just tracing circles, then pressed deeper, feeling my own slickness coat my fingers. Every footstep or distant laugh made me freeze for a second, then start again, and that push-pull of fear and pleasure had me biting my lip to stay quiet. When I finally came, I had to clamp my hand over my mouth, my whole body trembling on that stupid bench, and I sat there afterward grinning like an idiot, sticky and satisfied, wondering why I’d waited so long to try it.