I’m 26, very fit, and run a sportswear store at the mall – first floor, over by the Starbucks and the bookstore. It’s one of the ones where the sales associates all wear the same athletic uniform. In our store, it changes from week to week, and I’m the one who decides. Given my other fetishes, it often includes spandex or tight nylon in one form or another. 🙂 I’ve got a small workspace off to the side of the cash registers , where I handle the usual day-to-day stuff that keeps a retail store moving. I’ve also got an ISDN line to the net and that’s where I get my fix of erotica whenever the mood strikes. And, the mood is pretty much always striking.
From my desk, I look out over the main aisle of the store, which is also over the lines to the cash registers. Distance-wise, if someone is at the cash register , they’re not more than 10 feet away. When I took over the store, I managed to arrange the desk and filing cabinets such that there isn’t really a clear line of view below, say, my breasts unless you’re standing directly in front of the desk. It’s a great arrangement for someone like me. Being pretty much constantly turned on by all the mental imagery from the net, and with all the shapely young bodies (male and female) that come in to the store walking right by me – not to mention Alison and Martina, my two young spandex-clad sales associates, I’m nearly always craving some, shall we say, stimulation.
It used to be that when I’d get wet and aroused enough, and sitting behind the desk flexing my things together wasn’t enough, I’d wait until the girls were busy with customers and I’d head to the stockroom in the back of the store. The stockroom is separated from the store by a set of dark curtains. When the lights are off in the stockroom, anyone standing behind the curtains can see into the store, but not the other way around. I’d walk casually into the stockroom, wait until the curtains stopped swinging, and then stand behind them masturbating myself into a frenzy. From that vantage point, there’s a clear view of almost the whole main area, and I could see when Alison or Martina might be coming my way. I’d slide my hand under the waistband of my running shorts or whatever I was wearing, and let my fingers luxuriate in the puffy slickness between my legs. I can make myself cum in under a minute when I’m really turned on, and I had many wonderful climaxes standing there ogling the curves of Alison’s body, or the face of someone browsing through the sports bras . I just loved the rush it gave me to experiencing that kind of wicked sensation, to be doing something so primal and base, in what felt like plain view of a store full of people. The most intense climaxes I remember were the ones when there was a customer standing an arms length away, just on the other side of the curtain. Alison always wondered why I kept a box of handi-wipes on the shelf in there. 🙂
That was my routine for months and, needless to say, I loved coming to work. These little episodes fed my fantasies at home, too. I replay them again and again in my head while lazily stroking myself to a climax. It got so that just thinking about what the day might bring while on the way to work meant that I’d arrive already hot. Then one day events conspired against me, or rather – they conspired to push me to the next level of my fetish. I was reading Ramapo’s Heather series in alt.sex.stories, and was _incredibly_ turned on. It was the scene where a woman is demonstrating a wearable vibrator by walking around a room full of women, slowly being driven to an orgasm. She finally stops and leans against a chair and the whole room watches as she arches her back in pleasure and cums. It’s a very exciting scene for me. Anyway, I had just read this, and couldn’t stand it anymore. I just HAD to get some relief. Unfortunately, when I looked up, Alison was just going in to the stockroom with a stack of running shoes , and there was a young woman clearlywaiting for her return. It looked like they were going to be there for a while. And Martina, young lithe Martina, was bending over in her nylon running pants, showing me every contour oh her beautiful rear end, straightening out a display. Oof. I couldn’t wait any longer.
There were no other customers in the store, no one was looking at me, and I was so aroused I was squishy. I’d often snuck my hands between my legs while at my desk, but I’d never actually gone as far as getting myself off. I sat back in my chair a little, and spread my legs under my desk as wide as they’d go. I reached down and started massaging the tight nylon triangle between my legs. The running pants were very thin, and every stroke was like a little electrical current running through me. Spreading my legs wide kept the nylon tight, and I could feel the contours of my sex beneath it. I was already on the verge of soaking through them – thank God they were black! Some more customers had wandered in, but I didn’t care.
So, there I was. Sitting in the store. Looking, from the desktop up, like someone concentrating on their computer. Beneath the desk, though, was another story. My hand was under my waistband, and my middle finger was flying little figure-eights around my clit. My hips were pumping, and my knees were pressed against the sides of the desk. I just wanted to close my eyes, throw back my head, and roll with it – but I couldn’t. There were people not 20 feet away. It was my first true public orgasm, and it was awesome – a deluge of pleasure washing over me, my legs locked out as straight as they could go, hips spasming wildly.
I couldn’t stop myself from shuddering when I came, but I know I didn’t make a sound.
As the intensity tapered off, I looked around again. Alison was still helping the woman find a pair of shoes. Two more customers had come in, and Martina was still tweaking the shirt display. And I was feeling mostly sated and deliciously wicked.
As the weeks went by, I got progressively better and better at controlling the little shudders and shakes, sighs, moans, groans, and sharp intakes that accompanied my illicit orgasms. I became an expert at cumming two or three times in a row, with people browsing the racks just a few feet away. There’s nothing like being at the tail end of a mind shaking orgasm, still feeling the little aftershocks and spasms, little waves of pleasure, and having some knockout young man or woman come up and ask you something. Well, actually, there is…
As I’ve mentioned, I’m a fan of masturbation in all its forms. As such, I’m no stranger to vibrators and dildos. A while back, a girlfriend of mine (who knows my little work secret, btw) gave me one of the micro Joni’s butterfly vibrators. I had had the older, larger one. But this one was small. The motor on it was just a tiny little thing, probably smaller than the diameter of a quarter – and, man, does it buzz! The best part, though, is that it’s MUCH quieter than my full-size older one. I’d always wanted to try wearing the older one in public, but I figured it’d be too easy to hear. Once I tried this little gem on, though, I knew I had to wear it to work. Just to see.
The next day I put on my panties, the butterfly, some tight spandex shorts , and then some running shorts over those.The spandex shorts were wonderfully clingy, and held the butterfly against my clit with just the right amount of pressure. Because the spandex was so thin, you could make out the outline of the butterfly if you happened to look between my legs (as I know people will do!) and so the loose running shorts were there for concealment. I also had the battery pack/remote control to deal with, which I ended up just tucking it into the spandex on my hip, and the running shorts hid that well, too.
As soon as I was dressed, I turned the butterfly on low. I can’t describe how incredibly _sexual_ I felt. The stimulation was gentle, yet amazingly erotic because it was being done _to_ me and not by me. Wanting to savor the feeling, I turned it off for the drive to work, but turned it on again before getting out of the car.
I walked into the mall in slow motion. Dozens of people were going in and out, setting up their booths and displays, sipping coffee and chatting with each other. Fellow store owners said hello. People brushed by me left and right. I watched as two young guys checked me out from head to toe. Little did they know that this sexy young woman walking by was being stimulated in the most intimate manner. I was probably emitting sex-waves. 🙂 It was an incredible experience. Walking through the mall, slowly climbing higher and higher, little sparks of pleasure traveling from my clit to my breasts to my brain and back.
About mid way through the mall, I noticed that I was walking slower. And a little funny. Kind of stiff legged. Gyrating and pushing my hips slightly. I was a lot closer to cumming than I’d realized, and I couldn’t reach into my shorts to reach the control. I wasn’t going to make it to my store. I wasn’t going to get to the safety of my desk. I was going to cum my brains out, and it was going to be just past the main entrance to Macy’s .
There was one of those information kiosks to my left, you know, with a big map of the mall on it and the You Are Here arrow. There were a couple of high school kids and their mom studying it. I was so close to cumming that I was trembling. I managed to turn toward the Macy’s window and pretend to look at the display, but I wasn’t used to controlling my lower half when I came, and it was all I could do to keep from spreading my legs and standing there like I was straddling a horse. My hips seemed to have a life of their own, twitching against the incessant buzzing of the vibrator. I hoped nobody was watching that intently, and at the same time it was incredibly erotic to know that they could be and I had to keep control. It was one of those moments, those magic moments, just before you have an incredibly satisfying orgasm. Time seems to stop and you hang on the brink of release, and then, almost as spectator, you go over. And, just like that, it happened.
I was concentrating on the building pressure between my legs, trying to keep my hips as still as I could, when I felt my body tense and the hot rush of pleasure. I came with a shudder, and a bit of a gasp. And since the vibrator didn’t know or care about this, it kept right on playing with my clit, prolonging the intense initial spasms of ecstasy, and keeping the waves of pleasure from subsiding entirely. I was still standing there recuperating, still spasming gently every few seconds when I realized that one of the kids had walked over from the map and was trying to get my attention.
The family, it seems, couldn’t figure out where the bookstore was. As disconcerted as I was, I told them that I was heading that way and they could walk with me. Silly, of course, because I was still having mini orgasms every few seconds from my gently buzzing friend. And, naturally, the mom was making small talk as we wound our way across the mall. I nodded and smiled and tried not to shudder or gasp as we walked. Dozens of people walked by. Some saw me and some didn’t. But there I was, reveling in the waves of the naughtiest of pleasures. Right before their eyes. I loved it.
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