My Flagrant Public Nudity Ch. 02

At one corner I looked down a side street and caught a glimpse of the river. I headed over that way and emerged on a street with a view of a nearby bridge and the unfamiliar skyline of Portland. I wasn't sure that this bridge was the one we had crossed earlier, but it clearly led to the heart of the city, so I didn't hesitate to cross it.

When I reached the center of the bridge, I paused and thought that this was about as naked as I was ever likely to get. Standing in a such an open space with not even the foggiest notion where you and my clothes were and with all that traffic rattling by just a few feet from me, I began to feel an all too recognizable impulse. I leaned up against the railing, looking out over the river below, hiding as best I could what I was about to do and began masturbating again.

There must be a considerable element of denial in public masturbation. Your mind stubbornly blots out the reality and the potential consequences of your actions. You become obsessed only with your immediate sexual gratification and the exquisitely daunting awareness that at any moment anyone you know could happen along and witness your loving embrace of a universal taboo. Your parents or boss or pastor or teachers or clients or friends or even enemies. You have made yourself naked in just about the most conceivable way. But when the overwhelming release comes, and you gradually float back to earth, you are hit with some hard questions. Do you realize where you are? Do you realize what you just did? Are you fucking insane?

A passing cyclist apparently noticed what I was doing. She skidded to a halt with a concerned look on her young face and asked, "You're not going to jump off the bridge, are you?"

I fully turned to her, still masturbating, smiled and said, "Not intentionally, no." She laughed and looked relieved but made no move to continue on her way. I leaned back against the rail, opened my legs a little wider and happily performed for my personal watcher.

Of course, any number of passing motorists could have now seen what I was up to, but I felt so appreciative of this woman, first for her kind concern and now for her voracious gaze, that she became the only other person in the universe. She was close enough to touch me but only stared at my zealous assault on my vagina and clitoris, occasionally glancing up to look into my eyes. When my thumping orgasm kicked down the door, I involuntarily screamed, "I'm coming! Look at me! I'm coming!" Even so, when I caught my breath and rejoined the world of the living, I felt no embarrassment at all. I just said, "Thank you."

She said, "No. Thank you. You just made my day. Maybe my year." She touched me now, reaching up to my face and briefly caressing my cheek before pedaling away.

Knowing I should get off the bridge, and since it was also nearly sunset, I hastened to the end and descended into the city's center. Suddenly I felt exhausted. My intense orgasms, my increasingly unacceptable public nudity, my harrowing encounter with the police and my continuing predicament had proven to be deeply enervating. Nevertheless, I was beginning to form a plan.

I walked to the nearest bus stop and began asking the people waiting there, "What is one of the better hotels in Portland? Does this bus go near it? Would anyone consider giving me the bus fare?"

I was told that the Hilton was a good hotel (so I figured it would probably have a concierge), that this bus did indeed go by there, and a nice elderly woman gave me the fare. I thanked her for her kindness, and she said, "Fuck it. That's a small price to pay to see you get on this bus naked." I was a little taken aback, but I couldn't help but laugh. She smiled back at me sweetly.

I half-feared that she was going to add, "And I'll give you five dollars if you'll let me play with your tits."

The bus arrived, and I got on without a second look from the driver. In keeping with the tenor of my day so far, there were no unoccupied seats, and I ended up hanging onto the same pole as the old woman, who was gleefully pressing into me on the crowded bus. One man smiled at me mischievously and said, "For some reason, you look right at home on that pole."

Before I could formulate a response, the crone said to him, "Thank you, Dear." I was starting to like the old bitch.

On this occasion, I really did have to assume a wide stance in order to maintain my balance, and that drew the predictable stares. I became aroused again but this time managed to restrain myself. Barely. The bus arrived at the Hilton, and, unsurprisingly, some kind of convention had been scheduled, and a lot of the attendees were checking in. They all turned to stare, which was fine by me, but I thought I'd be standing in line for an hour or so just to ask if they had a concierge.

But then I noticed the plaque on a door near the front desk that said just that. I went over and tapped on the door, leaned in and got the rudest shock of my young life. The woman sitting at the desk was the very same woman who had stopped to watch me masturbate on the bridge. She had changed her clothes and must have been just beginning her shift. She looked captivated by my sudden reappearance and said, "What an agreeable surprise."

I just stared at her before nervously stammering, "I told you I wasn't going to jump."

She laughed and said, "A good thing, too."

"Look, I really need your help."

"That seems understandable. What can I do for you?"

I told her my story, including your complicity in the fake bike theft and my plan to use it as an excuse to walk naked through the city. When I got to the part about suddenly realizing that I knew neither the name nor the location of my hotel, she tried (and failed miserably) to suppress a laugh. Several of them, in fact.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me, but that is priceless. I can't even imagine what an appalling realization that was, but we can easily get you out of this mess. You're sure that your hotel was in this general area?"

"Yes, it was definitely downtown."

She pulled a street map from her desk and drew a freehand circle on it. She said, "This circle should include every hotel within about a five mile radius of here. The hotels are even indicated on this map. What is your friend's full name?"

"Elizabeth London."

"Okay. So I'll just start calling around until I find her."

"Thank you so much. I thought I was going to end up asking you where the homeless people slept at night."

She smiled and said, "I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but you are definitely underdressed for a homeless encampment." She pulled a list of phone numbers out of another drawer, picked up her phone and began dialing. She asked for Elizabeth London with each call, but as she worked her way through the list with no success, I started once again to become frantic. I was afraid she might decide that I was a total loon who had made up an imaginary friend. I began crying in frustration.

"Whoa! Don't worry. We're going to find your friend. If nothing else she'll soon be reunited with her phone, and you can call her on mine. You can stay here in my office until we find her. Maybe I should expand my search. We could begin by . . . oh, my God!" She bolted from her office, saying, "Wait here."

In less than five minutes she returned and handed me a slip of paper. I looked at it and said, "1134. What's this?"

"Elizabeth's room number."

"But where is she staying?"

"The Hilton." She blushed deeply and said, "I feel so stupid. It never even occurred to me to check my own hotel. I'm so sorry for putting you through all that unnecessary anxiety. I just rang her room from the desk, and she's not back yet, but I'm sure she'll return soon."

"It doesn't matter. She left a key card hidden on that floor. What's your name?"

"I'm Sarah."

"Sarah, I'm Susan. Trust me on this. You couldn't begin to feel as stupid as I do. First, for going on a naked walk in a strange city without ever learning the name or location of my destination. Second, by panicking and overlooking the obvious solution to my problem. As you just made clear, I could have easily found a kind stranger, especially in this city, and asked if they'd let me hang with them until my friend got back to her phone. Of course, that's assuming that Liz would have actually told me where she was staying after she stopped laughing at me. Imagine the concessions she could have extracted from me for that little nugget of information."

Sarah frowned and said, "That would have been an awful idea."

"Why?"

"Because you would have forgone your nude walk, however fraught, and I would never have discovered you masturbating naked in the middle of a city bridge."

"Oh, yeah," I laughed, "there is that. And it was worth it, too. Sarah, is there anything I can ever do to repay you? When I get back my wallet, I could bring you a giant tip."

"No, but thank you for offering. Since it turns out that you are, in fact, a guest of this hotel, I was simply doing my job, taking care of a guest's special needs. And, believe me, your needs were truly special." She paused for a moment and then said, "There is sort of one thing. I mean, you owe me nothing, and there's no way I would ask you to do this unless it's something you wanted to do anyway but without the least sense of obligation . . . "

"Please, Sarah, just tell me. After all you've done for me today, and I'm not just talking about here in the hotel, if you asked me to, I would happily fuck a goat on the steps of the courthouse."

"You know, my neighbor has a goat," she said laughing. "I think you probably know what I'm struggling to get at. In the middle of that busy bridge earlier, when you masturbated in front of me, it was like you shut out the rest of the world. Like no one else existed. Like you came just for me."

"I did. And now you're wondering if maybe you could watch me again but here in the more relaxed and private setting of your office. I thought you'd never ask. Mind if I close and lock this door?" She smiled as I closed and locked it, returned to the chair in front of her desk, spread my legs and draped them over the armrests.

Noting how wet I was, she said, "Wow, it looks like you've already started without me. Could you talk to me? At least for as long as you can speak. Tell me about your day, what you did, what you were thinking about and what you were feeling."

I started to masturbate as slowly as possible and began to speak. "The naked bike ride was appealing to me, to be sure, but I wanted to be the only one naked, to be the center of everyone's attention." I continued speaking but got up from the chair and swung atop her desk, swiveling around to face her again. With my legs still spread and with one straightened arm on the desk for support, I raised my hips as high as I could and positioned my sex directly in front of her.

"And I wanted everyone to stare at my breasts and my vulva and see my clit as it stirred to life and watch my nipples swell and harden and look at me as I wandered farther and farther afield and I began to tease people at a sidewalk cafe and I managed to look innocent as I showed more and more of my vulva and I became so turned on that I masturbated until I came for them and I imagined masturbating for everyone in the world and I reveled in their applause and I stood naked before the police and I crossed a long bridge and you found me masturbating the middle of it and I kept masturbating just for you and I rode a crowded bus naked and I saw the people on the bus pressed together and straining to look at me and I found you again here and you helped me and I was filled with gratitude and you asked me to masturbate for you again and yes I said yes I will Yes."

My orgasm came with cymbals and bells on, and my body convulsed as I collapsed on her desk, but I managed to keep my hips slowly rising and falling before her as she looked at me with the most wide-open eyes I'd ever seen. Then she squealed in delight and said, "My own dear Molly Bloom."

I was thrilled that she had recognized my very loosely plagiarized interior monologue. When I could struggle to my feet, I walked around her desk and kissed her gently on the lips. I slipped out the door, rode the elevator up to our up floor, retrieved the key card and entered the room. You finally breezed in about a half an hour later, finding me sitting there naked with a drink in my hand and staring out the window.

"So," you asked, "How did it go?"

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