A Creative Challenge Ch. 30

Amy put her arms around me inside the coat and started to rock her hips sideways just an inch or two, then back and forward a little, and then in little circular movements one way then the other. I tried to hold the coat right round her but as loosely as I could so that her movements would not attract obvious attention, and this was partly successful. The camera now knew what was happening and could capture the action that was quietly taking place, but it was not dramatic enough to cause a crowd to suddenly form. Mike held the camera pointed at us, and walked sideways in a circle round us, so that the camera could see what we were doing and see all the nearby people in turn and the plaza behind us at the same time.

Amy closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensations in her pussy and she leaned her head forward, with her cheek against mine. I would normally have done the same, but I wanted to enjoy the openness of the moment, and now I could no longer see her face, I wanted instead to connect with some spectators while we were fucking. The thrill of our anonymity was now giving way to a desire in me to share the experience with others, and I was less concerned about the consequences of being spotted. I made eye contact first with the young man who was still watching Mike and us. He smiled and nodded at me in acknowledgement. Behind him to one side was another couple who had become aware that Amy and I were not just cuddling, and I smiled and nodded at them, too. One by one, I caught the eye of other shoppers who stopped to look and who very quickly realized that we were doing something very unusual for a city mall.

The ability of humans to communicate meaning to each other, with or without words, is sometimes infuriatingly unreliable and imprecise, but there is a conspiratorial facial expression that you can give someone that consists of no more than a wide-eyed smile with a quick couple of nods and a raising of the eyebrows that almost anyone will understand to mean "yes...you're not mistaken...I bet you wish you were doing what I'm doing". A similar expression in response grants permission and it means "OK...you lucky devil...don't stop on my account". I found myself exchanging that look with as many people as I could, most of whom stopped to watch, and only one of whom gave me back a "that's disgusting" expression, and walked on.

Amy's small hip movements gradually became firmer and more urgent. Her arms were round my hips, her hands on my buttocks, preventing me from pulling back from her, and letting her control the process. She was not moving her hips more than an inch or so, but pulling back a little way slowly, then thrusting forward quickly, slamming her clit hard against my pubic bone with a small grunt. There was nothing I needed to do, I was just standing still while this beautiful young woman fucked me, and I knew her well enough to know that her orgasm was close.

Mike's camera was still circling us, but now he was closer to us and focused tighter on our faces. As Amy's orgasm built, he stayed behind me so I could no longer see him, and I realized that he had spotted the flush beginning to rise in her cheeks and he was letting the camera concentrate on her face.

I was now relishing the most intense multi-layered combination of sensations that I had ever experienced. The sensitive nerve endings in my cock were having a fine time screaming their intense pleasure up the connecting cables to my brain; my eyes were registering the interest and attention of a growing and appreciative audience, stoking the fires of our erotic exhibitionism; I could feel my ears were pink and hot from the cold December air, but curiously aware they were not registering any sounds, as if we were standing in a cone of silence; I had a fear-of-being-caught-like-a-naughty-child adrenalin rush which had to be countered by a conscious act of will to keep me standing in one place; I felt uncomfortably exposed and revealed by the knowledge that my own child was watching and recording the whole event; and I was empathetically following and enjoying every nuance of Amy's journey towards her orgasmic release, feeling her growing excitement as if it was my own.

Part of me was savouring every separate facet of all this, but another part of me was hovering somewhere outside of everything observing the scene like a dispassionate but amazed spectator, hardly able to believe what was happening. Which may be why my sudden orgasm caught me by surprise. I was so busy physically and mentally and emotionally that I had become confused by the signals coming from my own body. What I was experiencing as a sense of Amy's excitement was equally a sense of my own, and as she gave in to her releasing spasms my own climax suddenly roared up from the base of my spine and exploded in the back of my head at the same time. We both clung to each other with our eyes closed, drowning in waves of private pleasure, until they eventually subsided and we were able to open our eyes, look at each other, and laugh.

I looked past Amy's face and into the plate glass front window of the police station. Facing me and looking directly at me from behind the counter was the same policewoman I had seen earlier. Her slightly stunned expression told me that she had seen and understood everything we had just done, and I whispered into Amy's ear that I thought we had been noticed by the authorities. Under my coat, Amy let the front of her skirt drop as she put the now much smaller Mr Happy back into my pants and zipped me up, then she emerged from the enveloping coat and turned around so that she too was facing the police station. It was obvious to both of us that this poor young policewoman had no idea how to deal with the situation that had just occurred under her very nose. She would know that we were being deliberately provocative by doing what we did exactly where we had done it, but she would also know that we were not any real threat to public order. Amy raised her arm and gave her a small wave. It was a friendly wave, and after hesitating for a moment, the policewoman smiled and waved back. It was an admission that there was nothing she could do, even if she wanted to.

Amy waved again, this time a more vigorous goodbye wave, then she grabbed my hand and dragged me running across the plaza back towards our car, whooping and laughing and skipping and dancing in and out and around the shoppers with their bags. At the car, we stopped to get our breath back and waited for Mike to catch up with us.

He walked towards us, camera no longer running but still in his hand, shaking his head in astonishment.

"How was that?" Amy asked him. He tried to look serious for a moment, then suddenly grinned.

"Fucking awesome, dude."