A college student gets horny outside a skyscraper on a workday afternoon, and does something about it.
I went to university near the downtown of a city that was at the time populated by over 3 million people. Between classes, I would occasionally go off campus, sometimes with friends, and enjoy the numerous free amenities available to anyone who lived or worked there, and of course to those who came to visit. One of these was a large, open square built alongside a skyscraper that was owned by a bank. A very famous artist had been commissioned to create a piece for the site, and it was proudly displayed there for everyone to appreciate. During warm summer lunchtimes, the plaza would be filled with workers from throughout the financial district, chatting, finishing their meals or just enjoying a few moments in the fresh air and sunshine before returning to their offices and cubicles.
Often, there would be more than one row of young, sharply dressed males sitting or leaning on various concrete ledges and railings, who were obviously positioned to watch the steady stream of equally well dressed women that would pass by. There were no wolf whistles or hooting and hollering at the females like there may have been from construction workers, but everyone knew that a lot of testosterone was being generated by the summer dresses, sleeveless blouses, short skirts, high heels and most importantly, the healthy, glowing, inspirational, exposed skin of the office gals that these guys had come out to see. Being a committed girl watcher myself, I couldn't help but join the gauntlet whenever I had the opportunity. More than once I wished I could be masturbating at the sight of these breathtaking beauties, but instead chose to save the most stimulating memories for the evenings, when I'd be back home, alone in my bedroom.
One winter day, I was longing for those summer sights and decided to make my way over to the plaza to see if there might be at least a hint of opportunity for girl watching despite the frigid weather. I was disappointed to find almost no one on any of the sidewalks or street corners in this part of town. I could see people working in the office buildings, but it must have been colder out than I realized because everyone it seemed, was eating lunch at their desk. The only pedestrians I saw at all was a family of sightseers, bundled up from head to toe, who were braving the icy wind to get a glimpse at that famous work of art.
Nonetheless, something about the location was turning me on and I had a growing erection threatening to poke its head above the waistband of my jeans. Perhaps it was the sexual energy that permeated the plaza in summer, or just the excitement of knowing I could be seen from any of the thousands of office windows that looked down upon the square. Maybe even by one of those gorgeous executives who would strut her stuff during warm weather in her sexiest business suit, knowing full well she was tantalizing the male audience and teasing many young cocks to fill with blood as she walked past. I just had to masturbate.
So I slipped my right arm inward from the sleeve of my parka, freeing that hand to touch, press and rub my aching hard on within the confines of my coat, where no one could actually see what I was doing. Staggering around this large empty space, I began by grabbing the bulge in my crotch from outside the jeans and squeezing my manhood tight. Then I pushed against it rhythmically, producing a sort of dry hump effect for the pubic pumping mechanism responsible for extending and hardening the normally flaccid tissues. Finally, after a few minutes of exterior stimulation, I managed to jam my fingers inside both my pants and my briefs so that my palm was cradling the head and the pads of my digits were able to make contact with the sensitive skin on the front of the penis itself.
Wiggling and sliding my fingers along the front of my precum-oozing cock, I was now jacking off in the middle of a public square, at a central gathering point of a world class business district, in one of the largest cities in the world, in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. No one could tell unfortunately, unless they were really paying attention and perhaps were intrigued by the actions of that odd young man in the plaza with one arm of his parka hanging loosely by his side. Still, it thrilled me. And I discovered that my hand could generate some mighty good feelings down there when I simply walked around. Therefore I did just that for maybe another minute or so until I unloaded a mess of hot ejaculate in my palm, up my wrist, all over my belly, down into my underwear, and both inside and outside the front of my blue jeans.
I was relieved, somewhat ashamed of myself, and suddenly very worried that security would be hauling my perverted ass down to the police station if I hung around any longer. So I walked quickly to the train station with wet, sticky cum quickly turning chilly against my bare skin, thinking that what I'd done was probably not a very good idea. But it was memorable.