Mature Exhibitionist

It was Wednesday. I'd vowed after Saturday that I'd not think about the park or my feelings or what had happened. What had happened was wrong and unseemly. It was repugnant and I was a deviant. Yet by Wednesday afternoon I could barely concentrate on my accounts work and my mind was twisting in self-loathing and some undefined need.

I opened a bottle of wine and decided work was over for the day. Then I logged into the Internet and did a search for 'naked in public toilet'. To say I was shocked by what I read and saw would be an understatement. I read about something called exhibitionism. The urge and desire to expose your body to other people. It wasn't quite the same as what happened on the nudist beaches I'd read about previously, although that was certainly a form of exhibitionism. What I was reading about was exposing your body in inappropriate places. For some people, mainly men, it involved showing their private parts to other people. But for others, mostly women, it was more about wearing inappropriate clothing, or no underwear, or flashing pants 'accidently' when sitting. It was about undressing partially or fully in a public place where there was the risk of being caught.

It was this thought that stood out. It all seemed to be about the risk and the feeling of being out of control, if only for a few seconds or minutes. Just reading about this made me breathe faster and my heart started pumping. I was so utterly ashamed and embarrassed of my body that I'd didn't want other people to see it, but the thought of putting myself into a position where there was a risk just made my head spin.

And then there were the photos. My God so many photos. Photos of men with their penises showing both soft and erect. Photos of women walking brazenly down the road. But the photos that really worked my imagination were those of women taking pictures of themselves. Self-shots they were called. Especially intriguing to me were the ones taken outside, in public, in the park, in the car or the library or the changing room at the shops.

There were sites dedicated to such pictures where the women involved uploaded their offerings. It was strange that for people that had tried so hard to secretly shoot themselves in public, yet try not be seen, they were then willing to share their photos and videos with millions across the world. And it was all sorts of people, not just the young good looking. I supposed there was some sort of anonymity in that the women had usually masked their face behind the camera (if using a mirror) or with a blob of black or fuzzy grey from a photo editor.

My mind was racing and I wanted this so much. It was like the fantasy I had in the toilets imagining I was surrounded and being watched by people. It must have been the wine talking but I stood up, grabbed my phone and went to my mother's old bedroom. It was sparsely filled but it had a full length mirror on one wall. I undressed and placed my clothes on the floor. I noticed as I pulled my knickers down that the large gusset was gooey and a long drip connected up to between my legs. I caught this with my finger and wiped it on my leg before pulling my panties all the way off. Then standing up I stood in front of the mirror with my phone. I took a photo. It placed my feet apart as far as I could on the floor and took another. It turned sideways and took another. I lifted one droopy breast and took another. Finally I turned away from the mirror, spread my legs and bent over. This was awkward but I managed to take the last photo of my privates exposed in the mirror.

Not wanted to lose the moment, or the buzz, I went downstairs in just my dressing gown and created an account on the site I'd been on earlier. Connecting my phone to my PC I transferred the photos and looked through them. I was horrified by what I saw -- a fat, old ugly woman exposing her body fully naked, but with her face obscured in all of them. Before I lost my courage I clicked upload and sent my pictures into the world. I disabled other people from commenting on them though as I didn't feel like reading crude unwanted talk about me. And with that they were out there for the world to see. I spent the rest of the day buzzing and went to bed that night with my head still in a spin.

Next morning I check my photos online again. There were still there and the page they were on had been view 16 times. My face flushed red with embarrassment as I realised that 16 people had now seen me naked and exposed. More tellingly though was that my heartbeat had started racing and my breath caught in my chest as I suddenly realised that these 5 photos of me were simply not enough. And I knew what I had to do. I went upstairs and got dressed into my walking outfit. I was going back to the park.

I headed through the main gates and past the empty football pitches. The park was a lot quieter today than at the weekend. Up ahead I could see some mothers with their children in the play area but I had no interest that. My mind was racing thinking about what I was about to do and I could feel my stomach churning. The last time I'd been here I had the benefit and feeling slightly drunk but this morning my head was clear, although you'd not be able to tell from my lack of ability to focus around me. I walked on further and entered into the woody area towards the top of the park. After another few minutes I saw the grey building up ahead. I felt slightly panicky but something within me at a lower level was driving me on. I turned off the path onto the track that led up to the ladies toilets and headed in through the door.

The harsh fluorescent light lit the toilet far brighter than I had realised last time. Perhaps I was subconsciously aware of wanting to hide in the gloom but I tried to dismiss that as I headed down past the first two open stalls to the cubicle at the far end. The only sound was my breathing and the gentle slap of my trainers on the floor. I stepped in through the door, closed it behind me and considered what I was about to do. With slow deliberate movements, almost to stop myself from bolting out the door, I first placed my phone on the top of the cistern. Then I closed the toilet seat and sat down and pulled off my trainers and socks and placed them on the floor. Standing up again I pulled off my sweatshirt and pulled down my jogging pants, folding these carefully and placing them on the closed toilet lid. Realizing my hands were shaking I spent a minute of two just standing still and calming myself down although I was starting to feel a little sick with nerves. I fumbled with the catch on my bra trying to opening it before I also pulled that off and added it to my pile. Lastly I pulled down my pants and stood out of them one foot at a time. I was shaking now even though I'd already been here before undressed last Saturday. However this was different as what I was about to do to was completely and utterly wrong. What if someone came in and saw me? What if I fell over and knocked myself out only to be found naked on the floor? Too many what if's but I tried to focus on why I was here. There was a mirror above the sink outside and I wanted to take a photo of myself reflected in that.

I picked up my phone and turned to face the cubicle door and with my other hand I slowly slid the catch back. The quiet click as it opened sounded like a gunshot and echoed around my head. Gently swinging the door back and in I moved to the right to let it open completely. Once again I could feel all the feeling of panic sweep over me and I desperately wanted to slam the door shut again, get dressed and run away. But I didn't... instead I focussed on the wall opposite and stepped out of the cubicle. I could feel the air over my body in a way I'd never felt before as I turned to the right and looked down to the mirror above the sink at the end. I lifted my camera to my face and tried to zoom in to get myself in the reflection and took the shot. Not daring to check the photo I deliberately took two steps forward and took another photo. Two more steps and I was outside the first cubicle and another photo. I felt sick inside but the utter compulsion to do this was unstoppable. Two more steps and I was in front of the sink and too close for another photo. I'd actually done it but now I wondered what else I could do.

I fumbled with my phone and started it on video record and placed it on the sink pointing back at me. Then I walked backwards down to where I started before slowly walking back to the camera. Only this time I could watch myself in the mirror as I did it. When I reached the sink I wondered what else I could do so I placed the camera facing towards the entrance to the ladies. Now I very carefully walked towards the main door and as I got close I craned my head forward to look outside. There was nothing to see from this angle except the privacy wall opposite so I shuffled towards the far side of the doorway while turning around to face my camera at the same time. For here if I leant sideways I could see out past the wall and down the track to the main path. Anyone looking from the path however would only really see my head sticking around the corner of the wall.

With my heart pounding I leant back against the door and spread my feet apart. My head was spinning, my pulse racing and my stomach turning but between my legs there was a desperate need. I closed my eyes and started rubbing my hand between my thighs, gasping hard as I caught my pea. Possessed with an urgency I'd never felt before I attacked my pea rubbing hard and rough like I was scrubbing the floor. Suddenly my knees felt weak and my head swam and I felt wave after wave of intense sensation spread though my body. I must have stood there like that for at least 30 seconds before I slowly started returning to reality. Then absolutely fear and horror set in and I ran back to the cubicle and got dressed. I headed back out and picked up my camera as I passed the sink. Looking down in the doorway I felt my face blush as I saw a small wet patch on the floor where I'd been standing. I was disgusting and horrible and I felt awful and yet the feelings I'd felt here were undeniable even if I didn't really understand them. I started to walk home trying to not look as guilty and wanton as I felt.

When I got home I sat at my PC and transferred the photos and video from my phone. Then I immediately uploaded them to my new page without even bothering to watch the video. This time however I changed the setting on my account to accept comments.