Toshiko and I were in a park late on a warm summer afternoon. We'd spent the day walking around shops and art galleries and were lying on the grass chatting and as ever talk turned to things sexual. Toshi was lying on her front and I could see from the way she was beginning to squirm around that she was beginning to get turned on - and after a while she said so in, as usual, the frankest terms: 'I think I like to make myself come'.
What to do in a park quite a long way from home? I reminded her of something she had once told me-that when she had been a kid in school, she had liked to make herself come by sitting cross-legged and squeezing her thighs together. She had said she had quite often done this in classes. Maybe we should sit on a bench, and she could see if she could still do that?
So we found a bench to sit on, she sat down cross-legged, and laid a magazine across her lap. I just sat next to her and watched. I couldn't really see what she was doing of course-that was the whole point - but after a while it was clear that it wasn't working. She was getting more and more turned on, but more and more frustrated.
By now it was beginning to get dark - it doesn't stay light all that late in Japan, even in summer. If we stayed too much longer the light would go completely. I wanted her to come almost as much as she did, and it was a long train ride home. Gently, I took her right hand, and guided it towards the waistband of her skirt. She needed no second bidding. Her hand went inside her skirt, and I could see that it also slipped inside the front of her black panties. The look of grateful pleasure on her face as she found her clit and started rubbing was something to see. For some minutes, she sat quietly, looking at the magazine in her lap. The only things that gave her way were the fact that the magazine was moving gently up and down - and that she never turned a page.
After a while, the magazine began to move faster, and her breath became shorter. She turned to me and said quietly 'I am going for it'. Just then, the magazine fell from her lap to the ground, but by now she was too far gone, and I was too engrossed watching her, to do anything about it.
I don't think anyone saw us for the next few minutes, but if they had done, this is what they would have seen: an attractive Japanese girl wearing a black T-shirt and a cotton skirt that came just above her knee, sitting on a bench, her knees slightly apart. Her left hand was gripping the front of the bench, her right was down the front of her skirt, and the material of her skirt was moving up and down fast-there was no longer any disguising what she is up to. For a minute or so more, she leaned forwards, looking down intently at her crotch, as if she were still pretending to read the magazine that was no longer there. Then, quite suddenly, she leaned back, closed her eyes and raised her hips from the bench, her back stretched straight. All the time her hand never missed a beat, rubbing away at a mound that was pushing towards the sky. For the first time, her quiet panting became audible gasps.
Then, just as suddenly, she buckled forward again. The gasping was replaced by a couple of sharp moans, and the frantic rubbing stopped. Her hand stopped motionless between her legs, clasping herself tightly, and her body shook as she squeezed the orgasm out of herself.
I was entranced. The whole time I had been watching this performance I had not touched myself, but you can imagine I was turned on as hell. But I won't say what happened next, as I am almost as turned on now, and need to enjoy the memories....