Claire was an attractive, curvaceous 22 year old who also happened to be a virgin. In college she had gotten involved with the group SaGA (Sexuality and Gender Activism). Her gender confusion reached fever pitch and, consequently, being paralyzed by her inability to decide what gender she was, she ended up never having sex with anyone. Naturally, as any healthy woman would do, she masturbated regularly, which at least kept her hormones in check.
Now she was out of college, and working as a barista. She was still gender-confused, but of late she had reacquainted herself with an old kinky behavior that she had engaged in during high school: she liked to masturbate in public, in a place with minimal risk, but just enough chance of being caught to make the experience highly charged, and thus highly erotic.
Claire awoke on a warm, somewhat overcast Spring morning, on her day off, which happened to be Tuesday. She was feeling particularly horny, and decided to visit her favorite public place for masturbation: a local park, recently remodeled, with beauty all around. There was a delightful area with a small decorative pedestrian footbridge overlooking a bubbling brook. It was ideal for her purposes, as it was quite off the beaten path, and on an overcast Tuesday morning, there was unlikely to be anyone in the park at all, and certainly not anywhere near the bridge.
She showered, then dressed in jeans, a light print sweater, and sneakers. She packed some tissues in her pocket, brought a blanket to sit on, and made her way to the park. As expected, no one was there except a few workers at the entrance, far away from the bridge. She meandered along, checking for people along the way. Upon arriving at the bridge, she stood at the railing overlooking the brook, feeling at once content with the beauty around her, and excited by the prospect of what was to come. Once more she surveyed in all directions to be sure of privacy, and then placed the blanket on the wooden floor of the bridge, the tissues next to her, and sat down, with her back against the wooden railing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of clean, fresh air, and felt elated.
Slowly she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She slowly slid her hand down in to her panties and began to massage herself. She always liked to take her time in this situation, to enhance the arousal. She rubbed calmly and deliberately. She never tired of the touch of her fingers against her clit (yes she loved her Magic Wand, but they were two completely different experiences, each with its own particular spell). Massaging up and down, then in a figure eight, she savored the steadily growing arousal. She lifted her bottom off the blanket, enhancing the delightful feeling. Sitting back down, she pressed herself against her hand, and against the railing, tightening muscles that pulsed with excitement.
Claire had always been careful, but today she was feeling a higher need for risk. She wanted to massage her breasts, but with no clothes between her and her body. She glanced around the four corners, and seeing no one, she slowly pulled her sweater over her head, and placed it beside her. She then removed her sports bra, her ample breasts spilling out. Who cared if she was caught? She was lonely and this gave her a respite from that loneliness.
The feel of the warm spring air against her nipples made them instantly hard. She took one hand and began massaging a nipple, and with the other hand continued to stroke slippery clit. Reaching a higher level of arousal, breathing deeply, she couldn't help herself: she unzipped her jeans further, and pulled them down to her ankles, followed closely by her thong. She was now naked except for the jeans restraining her feet. She spread her legs widely apart. The air felt oh so good against her naked body.
More massaging and stroking, more manipulation of breasts and nipples. This was good, really good. Claire felt free and alive. She had no interest in rushing the process. A slow and prolonged orgasm was always the best, and with the fresh air all around, this was going to be one of the best orgasms of her life.
Out of habit, she once more scanned the horizon, and, finding no one around, she closed her eyes and concentrated. She thought of all the sexual experiences that she could have had in college if only she had been more open to it. Disembodied penises and pussies floated in her head, charging her inner engine further.
She was exceptionally wet, and her rubbing fingers elicited a squishing sound, which was not the least bit unpleasant.
