Par

It was a beautiful day for a walk in the park. I usually jog there and have had a few exciting encounters, sometimes jogging wearing a thong instead of shorts, occasionally topless or bottomless in the quiet parts of the park, eliciting looks ranging from surprise to shock, delight to disgust. It wasn't a sunny day, so it was peaceful. I did think it odd when I saw a lone walker with a camera, not something you see very much since phones became cameras. I'd dressed in a short flared summer dress, pale yellow, the cotton thin enough that the darker shade of my nipples showed through, as would my panties, had I been wearing any.

As I passed the lone cameraman, he did a double take as the breeze whipped my dress up, briefly exposing a buttock. I laughed and strolled off the main path, taking a less-used route, different from the one I run. The light was dappled coming through the trees, and it was warm, with a light breeze. I stopped momentarily, sitting on a rustic bench made from tree fall artfully carved into a semblance of a sofa, taking a sip of water. I sat back, eyes closed, enjoying the quiet, the breeze ticking across my chest, making my nipples stick out through the light material.

Taking another sip of water, I noticed light beige through the bushes on the opposite side of the path. I saw what looked like the shoulder of a person sitting behind a fallen tree trunk next to an old tree. I thought it was odd, then remembered the camera person. I wondered if he had followed me, hoping my dress would flip up again or if it was a coincidence and he was photographing wildlife. Secretly I hoped he was a voyeur.

I was sitting side-on, so I swung my legs around to face Mr Camera, pretending to look in my bag. He was far from the path, and I was sure I saw the flash of a lens again. I waited, holding my phone as if reading it, looking over the top for any sign of movement, and again I saw beige, which meant he wasn't a clever voyeur or just an opportunist caught in the moment.

Placing my phone back in my bag, I decided to have some fun. Leaning back and half-closing my eyes, I traced a finger around the plunging neckline of my dress, popping several buttons, pulling at the edge of the fabric and exposing a good deal of cleavage.

There was that flash again. Pulling the material aside over my nipple, I teased it with my thumb while unbuttoning my dress to reveal my breasts.

Again the flash of the lens. I wasn't concerned about being recognised by anyone who saw the photos as I was wearing an oversized pair of sunglasses that obscured my eyes and a great deal of my face.

Lifting my bottom, I pulled the hem of my dress up so that it rode high on my thighs, just below where my knicker line would be, had I any on. I rested my head back, thrusting out my now bare breasts and twisted my rock-hard nipples, loving being topless outdoors, and watched.

Putting on a show, I licked a finger, not really needing to as I was already damp, then slipped my hand under my dress, opened my legs and touched myself, the flimsy material bunching up over my arm, my fingers the only thing hiding my pussy from his camera. I felt a slight shudder as the breeze played across my bare nipples.

There was a definite shift in the bushes as he stood and dipped behind the tree. "I see you have a camera," I called out. "I really don't mind you looking as long as you stay that side of the path." There was a moment of hesitation, then he stepped out and held up the camera, taking a photo. Feeling rather naughty, I unfastened the last few buttons of my dress and slipped it off, sitting naked as he took another picture.

He almost dropped his camera as I reached down and parted my lips using my fingers and thumb, showing him how wet my pussy had become. He took another picture, and I let a finger slip inside while touching my other hand to my now-sensitive clit.

The silence made it even more erotic as I stroked myself, watching him kneel and turn, getting different angles. I could see his cock was hard, and I called out to him again.

"I will let you watch me get off if you do the same for me." He stopped taking photos and looked along the path. "There's only us here, and I'd much rather we do it together." Hitting him with. "Or I could just go home and masturbate."

He reached down with one hand and, after some difficulty, held his cock, hard and looking ready to blow as precum coated his fingers. He jiggled about again, freed his balls from his fly, and started to rub the shaft while holding the camera up in his other hand. Precum continued to dribble over his fingers, and I thought I'd never seen so much as it coated his shaft, making it shiny as he began stroking his cock with hard fast strokes.

I used my fingers to rub my pussy lips to the same rhythm he was wanking his cock, the tips pushing up against my clit on the upstroke, bringing me to orgasm and making me squirm just as he shot his load into the bushes with a grunt.

He tucked himself away, and I sat, legs spread, getting my breath back as the breeze dried the dampness between my legs, allowing him to take a couple more pictures.

Without getting dressed, I picked up my things and walked away without saying a word, the breeze feeling delicious between my thighs and on my breasts, wondering if he'd be standing on the road behind me, getting a last couple of shots of my nakedness.