It was a blustery October afternoon and I was feeling stressed and overwhelmed with my workload. I had been struggling to focus and my friend’s suggestion to “just masturbate it all away” seemed like a tempting solution.
I usually don’t indulge in self-pleasure in public, but the thrill of possibly being caught was too much to resist. I found myself in the bathroom at my local coffee shop, locked in a stall with my hand down my pants. As I touched myself, the hum of the espresso machine and the sound of footsteps outside the door only heightened the excitement.
I closed my eyes and partially undressed my pants, pulling them down to my knees as I let my thoughts wander to all the things that turned me on. My fingers worked frantically, conjuring up images of hard cocks, thick and veiny, filling my mouth and coating my face with hot, sticky cum. I imagined all the ways I could be satisfied, whether it was taking a man’s length deep inside me or simply running my tongue along the length of his shaft.