Ever since I can remember, I've been addicted to daring public adventures. What began with that natural teenage interest in seeing how much you could get away with has grown over the years into regular journeys out... journeys that start out quite ordinary but somehow always seem to turn into full scale panic-driven thrill seeking - the risk of being caught naked, being caught with an erection, or being caught having orgasms in public, wanting not to be seen but somehow at the same time wanting to be seen. That heady combination of humiliation mixed with thrill and excitement.
For me, there are two things going on... there is the risk of exposing myself in crowded public places. Just how far can I go? It makes me so hard.
At the same time, there is my lovely anal bullet vibrating inside me - a secret hidden away for the ultimate thrill of talking to someone or walking past people, having an orgasm and them not knowing. So this is a story about me - mid-30s gym fit bloke, with average build - my ultra-low rise revealing jeans, and my bullet, and our adventures together.
I'd left work and was stopping over in London, determined to relieve the boredom of an overnight stay with a bit of fun. I lay on the bed contemplating my bullet-style butt-plug. I'd made sure that I'd brought my "exposure" clothes. Let's go for it.
I had a shower, making sure that my hairless cock, crotch and bum were as smooth as they could be - nothing so classless as showing your pubes - and set about getting dressed. I could already feel my cock slightly engorging at the thought of what was to come, and my mouth was already feeling dry. I squeezed my way into my ultra low-rise pair of tight skinny jeans, made to order, no leg bunching and with just 6 inches of front-rise, with just 9-inch rise at the back. Without any underwear, the button sat literally at the join between my cock and groin, and the back exposed about an inch or so of crack. I did the button up and pulled a short belt around the waistband and did it up to keep the jeans in place. I put on a decent Ted Baker button shirt, undid the top two buttons and left the bottom button undone - that way any breeze would reveal just how low-rise my jeans really were. Small pair of socks and some converses and that was the most dressed I'd be for the evening.
I looked in the mirror, and stretched myself out, there's nothing so sexy as low rise jeans - all that promise of what's underneath, nearly but not quite on view. I could feel my cock getting hard, beginning to struggle to get out of the tight jeans - a clear bulge that would be obvious to anyone looking in that direction. Not yet I thought.
I then dropped my jeans, grabbed some lube, smeared it over me and the bullet and forced it inside. 5 inches of aching pleasure with a base to hold it in place. The feeling is indescribably good - being breached and filled up, the feeling of it gently rubbing my prostate giving a taste of the evening ahead. Oh this was going to be good - barely in my jeans and bullet in, I was looking forward to my cums tonight. But just how far would I go in public?
I took care to switch on the plug so that I could control using the remote in the shirt pocket, then did up my jeans, setting the belt strategically above the point at the base of my cock and I was ready to go.
I have only two ground rules - they make things more fun and risky. First, when I'm out in plain sight, I am not allowed hands on clothing to cover up - despite what my jeans and shirt might be doing, I'm not allowed to adjust them. It's OK to reveal more of course but no matter where I am and what's on view, I can't touch to cover - I must let things take their course. Second, whatever I'm doing as a prostate orgasm builds, I can't stop - if it's coming, I have to let it cum!
The evening was cool, and the walk to the train uneventful. I switched on the remote - the lowest setting - and felt the warm vibrations inside me waking up my prostate. The motion of walking moves the tool inside so my whole arse is gently vibrating. God it feels good - and no-one knows... the feeling of sheer naughtiness having fun when no-one can see but are only a few feet away. The young woman next to me on the platform, with the long blond hair, crop top and skinny jeans, if only she knew... I stretched myself to fully upright, and I could feel a gust of wind lift my shirt, exposing the top of my crack from behind. A quick look and there was a middle-aged business woman behind me - had she seen? And if so, what did she think? My cock pushed tighter against my jeans.
I stood near the door on the train, rocking gently to my first orgasm. The train arrived at the mall stop just as I was beginning to gently shudder, so I was able to walk across to the exit door without really showing what was happening. It was far too early to be caught quivering with pleasure. I reached into my pocket and switched the bullet off - for now.
I walked slowly up the platform, shirt gently blowing in the breeze, revealing how low my jeans were to those in front and those behind. The cool wind circled around the top of my crack, a feeling heightening my sense that people behind could see the top of my arse. I needed to move slowly, I thought, as the belt holding my jeans up was not so tight that it might not let the jeans slip a little if I moved too suddenly or quickly. This was OK until I reached the steps at the end of the platform. I tentatively stepped onto the first step, and immediately felt my jeans slip by... well... no more than a millimetre, but definitely noticeable. There were about 30 steps. I looked up. My mouth dried a little and my legs felt a little faint. As I saw it at that moment, there was no way I was going to get up the steps without revealing a bit too much of myself, to the crowd of people behind me, and to the people coming down the steps the other side. But I couldn't stop.
By the time I'd got half way up the steps, my jeans had slipped about an inch at the back, and also at a bit at the front so that the belt rested on my cock - and I had the uncomfortable feeling that they were going to come really loose. And, then, at that moment, gripped by a combination of fear and exhilaration, maybe some primal urge to take a risk, I arched my back, pushed my chest out and locked my stomach - all having the effect of making my jeans actually looser. Why had I reacted in that way? Did I want to be humiliated?
But as I did so, my cock moved up a gear and pushed up towards my belt. It was now obvious to anyone looking at my crotch - accidentally or on purpose - that I had a full-on erection straining to get out of a pair of jeans that were already ultra-low, getting lower and becoming looser.