Going public discretely
Back in my teenage years I developed a weird (?) technique to masturbate in public, responding to a slight exhibitionist urge and fueling the thrill of getting caught, which always spice things up. Those were days of intense lust, with too much testosterone running wild and little chance to give it good use, apart from the deferred late wank, required and precise as a Swiss watch, evoking all the breasts, legs and asses parading throughout the day in promising bikinis. Summer vacation on the beach used to be a hard time to keep these impulses under control, with all those temptations on the loose. So, the solution seemed pretty obvious: getting the job done right there, live. I just needed to find a way to do it with a minimum risk of being caught in the act. In those wide-open shores, the only refuge providing the required shield, and, at the same time, the full view and delight of the dear objects of our young lust was, in fact, the ocean. Being the cold sea water, at that age, no hurdle for a good erection, the stage was set: I went into the water, turned by back to the horizon and pumped my cock to oblivion, yearning for all these beauties that I felt the right to covet, in my raging delusion. I resorted to this practice hundreds of times without ever being caught. And sometimes I masturbated just a few inches away from the girl or the woman to whom I was paying my tribute. Many years would follow until the first time I jerked off for a casual lover, out in the open, at her request. I miss those days. Now, the best I can do is shock unsuspecting women, plotting fake situations just to be caught ‘unaware’ while performing my ‘little habit’. It still gets me off.
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