Caught Wet-handed

Mum and dad don’t go out of their way to hide it when they have sex. Even before the Covid lockdowns they were very noisy, and during them, well, the fucked openly. 

This, however, was way before all that lockdown nonsense. 

I was, by the age of 16, a skilled and innovative masturbator. I’d learned how to get myself off in a classroom in front of even the most observant of nuns. I also masturbated daily, at least once, often more than that, and masturbating in bed or in the shower was getting boring. 

Outdoor wanking was and remains thrilling to me. I adored it….still do. But I was practising it then. Mum and dad had an outdoor pool at this time…before they had built what I have at my home…..an ‘Inny-outie’ pool that has glass walls and a roof that retract. 

So, it was one of those autumn days that had convinced itself it was still summer. If it hadn’t been for the strong wind, I’d have been doing this outside. As it was, the sun streaming through the glass, and the glass keeping all the wind off was just perfect. I was only in my panties, and at 16, toplessness is still a sexual thrill. I was lying there, effectively exposed, and feeling racy. So, inevitably, my hand found my sex, and soon, my panties were a crumpled wet heap n]beside me. 

You know, I believe this might have been the first time I masturbated totally naked an unashamedly outside the confines of my room. Oh, I’d masturbated outside it before…many, many times, but never 100% naked. 

I can’t recall what I was fantasising about at the time, what I do know is that it wrenched from me a really loud, expletive-riddled orgasm. I also remember saying to myself “Fuck, that was good” and hearing mum reply ‘Obviously.” Oooooh fuck! 

Mum smiled as she walked over to me and sat on the next lounger. “Er…how…um…how long have you been there?”

“Oh, long enough, sweetie, long enough. I saw what you were doing, but I didn’t want to spoil it for you.” 

I realised that my mum having caught me mid-wank was intensely exciting. My clit began tingling again and I absolutely knew I could go again. 

“My mum caught me too…at about your age. Masturbation is perfectly healthy and it’s absolutely your decision where and when you do it. I know it can get boring just doing it in your room, and this place is big enough for you do find somewhere.”

She paused here, and I knew something else was coming. “Now, I need to say something. Don’t speak until I’ve finished, and don’t be grossed out. It’s just natural biology….or is it physiology….i don’t know. Ok..here it is. Watching someone - anyone - engaging in sexual activity, even if it’s just with themselves sparks similar sexual feelings in whomsoever sees them. This includes….(pause for an intake of breath) your dad. If he were to see you, I have no doubt he’d become aroused. There’s something deep wired into our brains that seems to say ‘sex promotes sex’. I suppose I’m saying don’t be freaked out if dad caught you and you noticed he was hard. Ok?” 

She got up, kissed my forehead and said, “It’s obvious you’re not quite finished so I’ll leave you to it.” 

You have no idea the strenuous effort I went through to stop myself saying what Miss Brain was screaming for me to say which was “Mum…stay. I’d like you to watch me.” I have never, before or since wanted to say something with the same desperate urgency as that. Every cell in my body wanted her to watch me cum again. 

And I think I now know why. It was a rite of passage. I needed mum to see me as a sexual being…that I’d made that transition from little girl to woman…that I was now a sexual being too. Oh she knew I was already. She would have seen the increase in vaginal discharge on my panties when she did the laundry (which she did at weekends sometimes) and especially if I’d cum in school that day. But this was…more….this was me wanting to remove the veil of secrecy as Neil Armstrong once said “from truth’s protective layers.” 

I know this, my fingers were working my bean before she had fully risen from the lounger. She did pause for a second or two, just watching me as my other hand went to my boob and I dipped a finger deep inside. 

Being caught is delicious. Some may think it’s hideously embarrassing, but it is so only if you allow it to be. 

There’s a distinct difference between setting out intent that someone shall shed you playing with yourself, and it happening purely by accident. The feelings I get when it’s 100% accidental are totally different, and much, much more powerful. 

Oh, alright…here’s one where it was accidental. 

Physical exercise, be it sport or work, tends to arouse me. In this particular case, I was sitting a go-pro up a tree which meant climbing it. At one point, I was balanced with both feet on protruding branches, and my crotch pressed a]hard against the trunk. There was a safety strap around my waist and Miss Brain was yelling “Hey..remember the ropes in school?” which wasn’t helping. I did remember the ropes in school, and the roughness of the bark of this ancient oak tree was working nicely. 

Camera fixed, I slithered down the tree, perhaps pressing myself against it more than was absolutely necessary. 

By the time my feet touched the ground I was ready for an outdoor cum. Usually, I’d just stuff my hand down my pants and into my panties, but I wanted to be more daring, so I undid the jeans I was wearing, and pulled them and my ruined undies right the way down to my ankles. Apart from anything else, this gives me a ‘tied up’ feeling which seemed to match the mood. 

I think I had a nice little ‘raped in the woods’ fantasy going and I know I was making zero attempt at keeping quiet. Every touch felt exquisite and the roughness of the old tree on my back as I leaned against it really helped too. What also helped was that it had a broken branch about the same height as my bum. This branch had broken decades ago and was rounded over at the tip. It made the perfect cock substitute and although I had no intention of letting it actually get in me (well, not that time. Another time I brought a condom with me and annoyed a rather pleasing bum fuck with it,) I did enjoy the mental image of someone standing behind me almost fucking me up the arse. 

And that’s when I saw him. A student from the high school, obviously, from his shirt and tie one of the upper VI form. (Boys wore blue shirts and dark blue ties in the upper VI.) He had that deer caught in the headlights look, and I wasnt about to stop. You can’t really hide what you’re doing with your jeans and panties round your ankles, two fingers buried deep inside you and your left hand holding your right wrist as you subject yourself to a really good finger fuck. 

So I didn’t. I was so close anyway. My knees were splayed out and as I saw him turn away slightly, I managed to say “No! Please. Watch me finish..” To his credit, he stopped, turned back and watched as I came hard. Miss Brain was like one of those fireworks that bursts and sends sparks everywhere. “What would he do when he got home? Would he even get as far as home? These are big woods…would he find a quiet place and jerk off? What if I offered to finish him? Hey…what if I offered to fuck him?” A millions thoughts accompanied the orgasm as it spread from between my legs to my extremities. 

Accidentally being watched has a thrill all its own.