Making a Weakness a Strength

With one knee resting uncomfortably on a bar and the foot of the other leg planted firmly on another so that that knee was bent my thighs were as wide as possible. The skirt complained about being stretched and I felt the seam go at the back. Unable to do anything about that now I pretended to be looking for something in my bag to disguise what I was doing. Once I was sure I could balance and that I looked as natural as possible I reached between my legs and found the little chain and began pulling the balls out of my cunt.

They were about 4cms across and I could feel the opening stretch to allow the first though. The lips of my lobelia clung to the ball and were spread and pulled down by it. Finally the ball popped out with what sounded like a fart as my cunt sucked in air behind it and to a spray of my juices on to my thighs and probably those below.

There were a series of noises from them, amazement, shock, excitement all at once. I was gasping for air as I had hardly remembered to breathe and I felt exhilarated! The end of the chain now dangled just between the bars of the grill and I thought the lad closest to me could just about reach it.

"Pull it slowly like I did" I instructed him. He managed to grasp it and tugged. The second ball squeezed though my cunt as I endeavoured to look to the rest of the world as though I was diligently searching in my bag. The same feelings of being stretched and pulled sent sexual shockwaves through my body, partly though the physical sensations but also the fact that a 16 year old youth was causing them while five of his friends were watching my pussy being opened up by him. Rather sooner than I had hoped the ball squirted out accompanied by the same filthy sound and spray of juices.

I felt really close to coming and knew that only a couple of strokes of my clit would bring me to climax. As I wondered if I could possibly finger myself without exposing my entire fanny I suddenly felt fingers on the ankle and thigh of my right, kneeling leg. Emboldened by my instructions to the one boy the others had shuffled themselves round below me so that they could touch me.

Another hand reached up and groped my arse. I could feel my buttocks being spread. Slowly the others crept up my legs. Very soon clumsy, inexperienced fingers were pawing at my pussy and bum; they prodded at my arsehole and pushed into my cunt. I desperately wanted them to frig me, and pleaded with them to rub my clit but either they didn't know where it was or couldn't quite reach. Being so close to orgasm yet not quite being able to cum was making me dizzy and I was frightened I would do something really silly, like strip off all my clothes – which I felt like doing.

While I was in this predicament the bus I needed to catch came up the road. My mind urged me to get to the bus stop but my body would just not react. Mentally I went through standing up, gathering my things and walking to the stop but my legs stayed rooted, unable to break the hold that eyes and hands had on me. Even as in my head I was running for the bus my legs were splaying further apart, with both knees on the grill now trying to get more in reach of the fingers. The seam at the back of the skirt rent further as I did so. Vaguely I knew this was going to put me in a predicament to say the least but it was more urgent to cum.

The fingers did press against my clit now but they were more interested in parting the lips and poking inside my cunt. They spread the juice from it over my thighs and arse. Hardly able to speak now I listened to what my molesters (I could not call them mere vouyerers now) were saying.

"get your finger as far up as you can... look at her arse... you can smell her cunt... spread the lips on her... does it feel sticky?..."

Suddenly there was a change in the atmosphere, the fingers and eyes left me and a voice called "We've got to go or we'll get caught". The sound of scrambling came from below and finally the window banging shut – but not before another voice hissed "thank you, Miss."

WEAKER

I found myself almost crying, I think it was out of frustration and desperation, but from humiliation too. Here I was, a grown woman, allowing myself to be reduced to a quivering sex object for teenagers, more than willing for them to touch me in such private ways in such a public place. I had tried to be the one in control, who dictated what would happen but the truth was that at that moment I would have done whatever they wanted if only the would have given me release. No more photographs I had said, but they could have put me put me under a spotlight and video'd the whole thing, they could have stripped me naked right there, they could have sprayed their cocks all over me as long as I could have cum too.

Shakily I got to my feet; my knees hurt and I could hardly stand but I managed to stumble away from the grill. I pulled my skirt down and feeling round the back I found that it was indeed ripped half way up my backside. I couldn't see but I was sure that it would be visible to all when I walked. Of course I didn't even have a pair of knickers to put on.

I thought about what I should do; I certainly couldn't wait until nightfall for the darkness to hide my embarrassment. The sexed up side of me (and I was still feeling erotically charged, needing to cum) was saying "be brazen, go on flash your arse!) The side of me that felt humbled by the whole experience was screaming 'No! How could you even think of it?' It was the side that was winning when I was aware I was being called to. A side window had opened up and a man was looking down.

"Are you ok?"

"Sure, I'll be alright."

"You don't seem well. Is there anything I can do?"

I needed to think swiftly; this guy might be able to get me out of this mess, but he could add to my trouble by realising how I got into it. What had he already witnessed? If he had seen nothing how would I explain myself...?

"Err, I've just had a bit of a shock" I said. "Actually there is something, do you know the number of a taxi I could call?"

"I'll find one and be right down"

Damn. If only he could have shouted it down, but he was gone and I couldn't stop him. I didn't want him to see me like this but it would be worse if I walked away and a lot more people did. So I stood with my back and torn skirt against the wall trying to put a story together in my head.

The man soon came round the corner with a piece of paper in his hand. He is quite old, 60's probably, dressed in a really old fashioned way in sports jacket, tie and pressed trousers.

"Here's a number" he said. "Do you want me to phone it for you?"

"No, I will be fine, now, thanks."

"Look I will stay with you until a taxi arrives. You look very shaken."

"It's alright, honestly" I almost plead.

"Well at least I should make sure one is on its way."

"Ok" I say; it seemed a good compromise. I took the number from him and began to dial, but I still felt a bit dizzy and had problems pressing the right numbers."

"Here, let me" my would-be knight in shining armour said and I handed him the mobile.

He started to ring it but stopped and said "Look, I don't want to seem pushy at all but my car is not far away and I could drive you where you want to go, rather than wait for a taxi to arrive. It could be ages."

Again I have to think fast. I could be out of the frying pan and into a fire here – but that might be better than taking my chances like this with a taxi driver. If I were to catch one I'd have to stand out on the pavement to wave it down...

"Would you? That would be very kind, but I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"It's no trouble at all. If you come with me..."

"I'm not sure I can walk very well" I say hastily, "if you could drive here I could hobble to your car, if that's ok."

"Sure... I'll beep when I get to the bus stop over there" he replied waving his had to the place I should have got on to get to my next job.

While he was gone I did just manage to ring the people there and concocted a story about being told my sister had been in a car crash and having to go to a hospital (I thought that was better to say than I was ill because the agency would find out I had been ok) I considered telling the gentleman the same thing, but realised he would want to take me to an accident and emergency somewhere. Having got that sorted I felt more confident and started to think how I could extend my adventure rather than be cowed by events – I still hadn't cum and my pussy was demanding some attention. First I twisted the skirt so the split was at the side – still revealing but at least not showing off my crack. I resolved I would give my driver an eyeful as the split would be on his side, but not any passerby.

I heard the horn and holding my skirt together as best I could until I reached the car door. I manoeuvred my way in so as to ensure the man got as much a view of thigh and buttock as I could. Once I was in I 'apologised' for the amount of flesh on display "I don't think there is a ladylike way of getting in with a torn skirt like this."

"Don't worry on my account! How did you come by doing that?

"I stumbled and it split as I fell – after all it is pretty tight" I lied unconvincingly.

"So where do you want me to take you, then?"

I hadn't considered that at all up to that moment. "Er, I don't know whether it's best to go to a shop for a skirt or home first", I stalled.

"There's a bus coming so I'll pull away, while you think".

The car moved off, then the man turned and said "You don't seem in a fit state to go shopping, and not dressed for it either".

"No, I guess not, I'm hardly dressed at all, in fact!" I wanted more thinking time about where to go and to have some fun by embarrassing the old guy – see him squirm. But he wasn't fazed.

"I'd already seen that! So how come you haven't got much on?"

"I like showing off and people seem to like a bit of leg."

"And more..."

"I guess they would if they got half a chance!"

"Well if you stand on that grill, they will."

"Do you think anyone would have been able to see me?" I said in mock surprise.

"I know so." He pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. On it was a picture – up a woman's skirt from below the grill. It was my skirt - and my bum - in the picture.

I felt myself redden. It must have been the photo taken last week. "Did you take this?" I asked, attempting to show I knew nothing about it.

"Hardly, it was one of the students. Don't know which one, this may not be his phone – that picture will have gone round the whole college in days!" It was left behind a few days ago and I picked it up, flicked through it and found that."

"So why did you have it ready to show me?" I enquired, beginning to realise that somehow I had been rumbled.

"Look at the date and time the photo was taken."

I confessed I had no idea how to do that and he told me step by step. 05.06.07 - 14.13 it clearly read.

"So I just stood at the window I called to you from the same time a week later and there you were."

"I see" I said rather weakly."

"Of course, that would be pretty damning if it was handed to particular people..."

"That sounds like blackmail."

"From what I've seen that won't be needed. You clearly like showing off."

'Take control' was the only thing I could think. How could I be the one who decided what I was going to show and to who? My mind raced back to what Heather had said, "I liked to tease them and sometimes I deliberately let them see up my skirt and that meant they didn't have any power."

"Bet you would like to see my knickers, just like in the picture" I ventured, knowing the answer.

"I could hardly refuse such a kind invitation."

I lifted my bum off the seat and pulled my skirt up at the back, then as we drew up at some lights I slowly hitched the front up too, revealing the tops of the stocking tights, then my thighs, then my bush. I didn't stop until the hem of my skirt was up at breast height, but kept my legs together so he couldn't see my cunt.

"How lovely... You showed them your pussy didn't you?"

"I did" I replied, pulling the skirt down quickly. "And I'll show you too, but they're green again" I said, nodding at the lights, "and you've got to concentrate on the road".

"Yes, yes, I'll try." He was clearly a little flustered, getting the wrong gear as we drove off. "Well, the basketballers got a better show than most, that's for sure!"

"What do you mean, 'most'?"

"There are often rumours of women exposing themselves over that grating but we actually only get to know of one every year or so. Somehow there is something about that spot above the changing room that draws people to flashing their knickers. Of course with most you don't know if they realise people are looking – but if they come back and especially if they are not wearing any..."

Although I was happy for the gentleman to know I had exposed myself to the students I hoped that he didn't realise that I had allowed them to touch me, had had an urgent need for them to – that would give him too much power.

I had forgotten that I was supposed to be saying where I wanted to go, but the gentleman seemed to be driving somewhere purposefully.

"So where are you taking me?"

"I thought we might have a bit of fun, at this nature place round here" he replied as we turned a corner and entered a car park.

I had seen the signs as I had passed before but never been in.

"Looks a bit public" I said as nonchalantly as I could.

"This area is but if you walk through there's more at the back most people don't go." With that he got out and I had no choice but to follow.

I wondered what people looking at us thought as we walked through the gardens, me looking every inch a tart and him a respectable gent. A prostitute and her client? A father and daughter – more likely a grandfather and granddaughter! I decided I would play the part of a bimbo and he would be my sugar-daddy. So I took his arm and cuddled up to his side.

And people did look at me; at breasts in a tight top, at legs in a short skirt and glimpsed thigh as the rip parted and closed as I walked. Onlookers got fewer as we walked further on until there was almost no one as we entered a woodland walk area. Here my sugar daddy got more adventurous and talked of what we might do – or rather what I might do. He wanted to take pictures with the camera phone of me baring my tits and then get it back to whoever it belonged to with them on. The idea really appealed to me – having banned him from taking any photos I would be giving them to him because I wanted to.

I set one condition: "you're not to get my face in any of them – I don't want to be recognised!" It was a deal.

It was rather dark to get a good picture in amongst the trees so we set off to find enough of a clearing. The whole idea was stimulating me more as I thought about what I was going to do and my clit began throbbing again. I remembered the ache to cum that had not been satisfied may be 30, 40mins ago and the desire came back – strongly.

Eager to expose my breasts now I began suggesting places; "How about here?"

"No the light still isn't good enough."

"Here then."

"No, it will better just over there"

Eventually we came to the edge of a field with me standing just between the first trees and the gentleman in the field. Immediately I lifted my top to bare my breasts; the nipples standing out because of my obvious excitement.

"You're keen" he said.

"You bet! Click away..."

He did. This was the first time I had exposed my tits in a public place – I'd not even been topless on a beach and I felt really sexy. Of course I had shown my pussy at the college, but a first is always exiting. For some reason the gentleman was not as taken with it all.

"I can't get a good shot of your breasts to show that you are in woods without getting your face in" he complained. With that he walked over to me and lifted my shirt up. I thought he was going to take it right off but he just pulled it over my head like footballers do to celebrate scoring. He began taking the pictures and I realised this was a way of concealing my identity but showing my body.

"Fondle your breasts for me..." I did, squeezing and caressing them.

"Now turn round and show me your derriere..." Again I complied and stuck my bum out towards the camera. I twisted the skirt around so the rip was at the back then I took hold of the hem and with a tug on both sides tore the seam right to the waistband. I knew it would make for a very awkward and revealing walk back through the gardens but right now I wanted to show how dirty and horny I felt. And I felt very, very dirty; ready to do anything I was asked.

"Part your buttocks..." I wasn't sure why anyone would want to see my arsehole ... but the lads back at the college had already got a good look and had fingered it so I pulled my butt cheeks apart and bent over.

"Time to give yourself an orgasm..."

The matter of fact way the gentlemen told me to make myself cum just added to the excitement and I immediately turned to face him, squatted with my legs wide open and began rubbing my clit. My fanny was dribbling juices and mad lewd squishing noises as I pushed fingers inside of me and spread the lips. Soon I was writhing in the throws of a wonderful orgasm that rushed through me. Guttural sounds and expletives ejaculated uncontrollably from my throat while the camera captured it all.

Exhausted, I dropped forward on to my knees and rested, not even having the energy to rearrange my clothing. The gentleman took hold of my hand, though and got me to my feet, "Come this way" he urged.

I followed his lead, taking the top from my eyes so I could see where I was going. A fallen tree blocked the path we were on but I was asked to climb up on to it, then sit down. This brought my head to about shoulder height.

"Pull you top up again", the gentleman asked.

I did so, expecting more pictures to be taken, but I heard a zipper being undone and could just about make out thought the fabric that he was getting his prick out.

"This is where I get screwed" I thought, "I wonder how he is going to take me?"

From what movement I could see he was stiffening his cock with his hands. After just a few stokes he asked me to hold my breasts up. I took them in my hands, pushing them together and as I did warm gobs of spunk splashed on my tits and fingers. He grunted as he wanked over me until letting out a deep, satisfied sounding sigh.

I was disappointed that I hadn't the chance to at least give him a blow job and felt a bit flummoxed. Not knowing what to say I just said "Thank you"

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine" he responded, as he pulled down my top and cleaned his knob with the material.

"It is very remiss of me" he added, but I don't have anything to help clean you up with" and I became aware of just how filthy I had become. In both senses. There was dirt on my knees, what little clothes I had on were ripped and dishevelled, and I reeked of sex. I tried getting the gentleman's seamen off with my hands as best I could and whipping them on the grass but much of it just got smeared over my body.

With my top pulled down and the tear in my skirt pulled round to the side we set off back through the Park. Whereas I had felt brazen and sexy coming in I now felt really self-conscious – more than that, humiliated. I didn't just look as though I had been 'dragged through a hedge backwards' as my mother would have said but fucked through one, doggie style.

The gentleman was walking fast and I had to trot to keep up with him, trying to hold my skirt together and save what modestly I could. Although that did seem a forlorn attempt, with the spunk drying on my tits and belly, sticking the top to me and a gapping whole exposing my thigh with every step. People stared at me and I could see it in their eyes that they thought I was a slut.