Public Rubbings

I had agreed to be wing-girl for a mate whilst she met a guy for her first date. Surprise surprise - the prick didnt turn up. I sat with her and together we concocted dramatic stories about what we would love to do men who are useless pathetic pricks.

The pub was quickly filling with many good looking men and women. Outside became dark and the music switched from unplugged guitar to loud mainstream music. My friend and I were sitting outside, sharing a table with about 12 others who we vaguely knew. People we both knew were coming to say hi and have a chat with us. I was also in constant contact with my Master who asked that I send him pictures of my cunt and even suggested that I ask my friend to come home with me for some fun together. My friend, knowing about Master, laughed as I suggested it, I knew she would. She isn't that type of girl.

When I told Master this, he ordered that I rub my pussy on the outside of my jeans. I was to rub them until they were visibly wet on the outside. Initially this was very confronting. How could I get away with this. I know many people here. They know me. Small town and all that. I moved my legs to be under the table and perched myself on the edge of my chair. I rubbed myself for a short second or five. Did anyone see? Who is watching me. Feeling that no-one had noticed, I rubbed again. This was going to be hard to accomplish. I mean to make myself visibly wet through pants and jeans.......?

I sat perched on my chair and every so often I rubbed myself. The bulky seam of my jeans positioned just right to add to the pressure. I found if I tilted my hips forward the seam pressed tighter against my clit and my rubbing created a more intense feeling. No-one noticed. I found that if I needed to chat at length instead of half heartedly listen to conversations I could easily rock back and forth as I perched on the aluminium chair.

I was getting very wet. Not enough to soak through to my jeans but I was edging all the same. I excused myself and made a beeline for the ladies bathroom. Once I was safely secured in a stall I rubbed my pussy hard until I edged again. I stopped. I rubbed. I edged. again and again. My pussy was dripping wet and I quickly removed my panties and stuffed them into my pocket. I pulled up my jeans and returned to my seat outside.

Perching on the chair again I noticed how the intense feeling from the bulky seam was stronger than before. I rubbed against the seam and rocked a little. I was no longer able to listen to the bullshit conversations going on around me. I escaped for a little while, into my own head, and fantasized about getting fucked over the table by some of the deliciously bearded young men in the pub. This was fantastic and before long I let out a little squirt. A little bit of juice to saturate a part of my jeans.

Task over, I sat back, relaxed and refocused back into the conversation. They were still talking shit. It was time to go home and finish what I started. Thank you Sir.