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Library Security Camera

Posted by: Author: Age: 29 Posted on: 0 comments
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My first tiny contribution.


I have masturbated in a couple of libraries in my lifetime. But the library at my new school is very modern, sleek, and well-lit, with no secret cubbies or dark hallways. In fact, there are security cameras on each floor, whether or not there is actually someone watching them.

One of the most predictable ways for me to get aroused is by studying. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm accomplishing something, the quiet, the idea that a serious student _isn't_ supposed to be thinking about sex, or what.

A couple of weeks ago, I had been too busy and tired to jerk off before going to sleep for many nights. Between class and work, I decided to go to the library and do some reading. As soon as a more private table opened up, I moved my bag and book. The round table was hidden by some medium tall bookshelves. The problem was that security camera! Rubbing myself from the outside of my clothes wasn't cutting it. I pretended to read. I couldn't get enough contact because the pesky seam of my jeans was in the way.

I scooted the chair all the way under the table and surreptiously unbuttoned and unzipped the pants. I noticed that when I moved my hand the way that felt best, my entire arm visibly moved. Other students were busy with their homework, ipods, or text messages. I was worried about the video recording. I couldn't decide whether the idea that someone could be watching me was a turn on or just a fear factor. After a few minutes, I decided it was too great a risk that I'd be discovered, so I packed up my stuff and headed to the women's bathroom.

This floor's bathroom isn't always busy, but I was surprised that all the stalls were taken and someone was doing their entire morning routine in front of the mirror. I waited until the larger bathroom opened up and dashed in after washing my hands. Annoyingly, the woman brushing her hair and doing her make-up was directly in front of this door, and she kept rifling through her travel bag for different things. The shelf for the bag was next to the largest gap in my door. For a while, I just stood there, waiting for it to clear out. I was worried that someone peering under the stalls would know what was happening if they saw my feet in the wrong position, so I stood right in front of the toilet.

Getting impatient and feeling dumb for wasting time, I pulled down my pants to my thighs and tried to jerk off. Everytime a toilet flushed or someone turned on the sink, the mood was broken. At least, that woman's make-up bag disappeared from the shelf. I really don't know how I managed to get excited enough to stop caring about the public eye. I stood on tippy toes and pressed my pubic bone onto the metal railing that disabled people use to stand up and sit down. It was at a good height. I humped this about ten times and came silently.

I wiped up the goo with toilet paper, flushed, and walked out. The woman was actually still putting on make-up, but I don't think she noticed anything out of the ordinary.



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