Public Fitting room masturbation
You flush hotly when you hear the door to the dressing room open. Quickly, you smoosh your big Latina ass against the wall, pressing your tattooed skin against the cold metal. Your lacy bra and G-string leave precious little to the imagination. The fabric stretches taut over your curves, hugging the lush mounds of your ass like a second skin.
You strain your ears for any signs of the store clerk. Are they coming this way? Do they know someone’s in here? Your heart hammers against your ribs as you tiptoe nude to the cracked door and peep out. Through the gap, you watch the clerk’s reflection in an nearby mirror as she restocks shelves, her movements slow and bored.
The coast is clear! Naked and giddy, you rush back to your spot by the door, praying the wood won’t creak as you hunch back against it. The cool air caresses your naked flesh, raising goosebumps. Just being naked in a public place where anyone could catch you is so naughty! You press your thighs together as a familiar ache builds between them.
Biting your lip, you finger the waistband of your thong. The tiny scrap of fabric seems to whisper “Go on… Touch yourself…” Recklessly, you tug it down with your bra. Both garments hit the floor with a soft plop. You’re wearing nothing but ankle socks and a smile, stomach fluttering with daring deliciousness. You bet the conservative cashier would have a heart attack if she saw you now!
Dominant fantasies flood your mind as you palm your heavy tits. Finger your clit. Imagine doing impure things with forbidden lovers from your past. The hemisphere tattoos inked across your ribs and pelvis point the way to your pretty pink parts. Your fingers write in braille across the inked skin and come away slick with excited juices. Your urgency intensifies. Harsh autoerotic panting computes to your ears, joining wet squelching noises as you diddle your dripping tunnel. Each breath burns your chest, your pulse races, your mind reels. Ohhh…
Glancing at the door clouds your lustful haze. Alarming paranoia rises like bile in your throat. What if someone enters the dressing room right now and discovers you doing sexual things? Tears fill your eyes,…
