A CITY WALK
The following story is the very first one I have ever written, and it is based in part on true events.
Everything else consists of thought experiments that I have committed to paper. I used a German-English translation tool, and I hope that my story is sufficiently understandable.
The story is about a walk through the city in an undershirt and flip-flops.
A CITY WALK
I was so glad when I got home. It was so hot, and the air conditioning in the office hadn't been working properly. Sweaty and exhausted, I undressed and took a refreshing shower. Afterward, I put on one of my boyfriend's comfortable men's undershirts, went out onto the balcony, and collapsed into a chair. My boyfriend was working the late shift, and I had time to relax.
After a while, I got hungry. I got up and went to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich, but discovered we were out of bread.
Sighing, I grabbed my keys and wallet, slipped on my flip-flops, and opened the front door. It suddenly dawned on me that I was only wearing this undershirt. It was long enough to cover my bottom, and very low-cut at the sides below the armpits. Could I go out like that, or should I wear a bra and panties underneath, or just swap the camisole for a summer dress?
"Oh well, it's not far to the bakery, and besides, it's so hot," I thought, and left my third-floor apartment.
In the stairwell, I encountered a neighbor who came towards me and looked at me with wide eyes. I just nodded with a smile and noticed him watching me go.
Could he see that I wasn't wearing anything under my undershirt when he went upstairs?
I had to laugh inwardly at the way he'd looked, but I wasn't sure if I could actually go out onto the street like that. On the other hand, there wasn't a slope or anything like that outside, unlike in the stairwell.
I opened the door and stepped outside. The heat was overwhelming. I walked slowly along the sidewalk, accompanied by the clacking of my flip-flops. The encounter with my neighbor preoccupied me. Had he seen something? Had it bothered him? I had to grin. I found the thought interesting. While I do occasionally go out without underwear, it's always only in skirts or dresses that are almost knee-length.
Lost in thought, I walked along the sidewalk, feeling the light, warm breeze pressing my undershirt against me and accentuating my breasts. My nipples hardened and were clearly visible beneath the light fabric.
A girl, about 20 years old, walked towards me and stared unabashedly at my chest. I just smiled because I'm used to those kinds of looks when I'm out in public in the summer, almost always without a bra. I have such small breasts that I simply don't need one. The fact that I'm braless is especially noticeable when I wear light tops with thin straps. I only wear a bra at the office because I don't like being stared at by my colleagues, and I don't want to be the talk of the town at work.
I continued walking. A light, warm breeze picked up. I felt it lift my undershirt slightly, revealing the lower part of my bottom. I quickly pulled it back down and glanced over my shoulder. But there was no one behind me who could have seen anything. Actually, I would have liked someone to be behind me; the thought of it was so exciting. Did I have exhibitionist tendencies? I've never been shy and I also like to wear revealing clothes, but this is something completely different.
The next gust of wind came, and this time I didn't stop my bottom from being exposed. It was that thrilling sensation—the thought that the whole city could have caught a glimpse.
I continued on my way. A man in his forties emerged from a house and stared unabashedly at my chest. I walked past him, feeling his gaze lingering on my back.
If a gust of wind were to blow right now, he would see my bottom. But the air remained still. Too bad, I thought, and couldn't help but giggle. I pictured it in my mind: my bare bottom, right there in the middle of the city. I grew increasingly excited as I reached the bakery.
The saleswoman looked at me disapprovingly as I walked in. Two men—probably retirees—were sitting at a small table. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed them staring at me. The saleswoman glanced down at my cleavage and pursed her lips. I knew exactly what she was thinking: Why isn't she wearing a bra? "Yes?" she asked me. I had to clear my throat, as my voice was hoarse. "A country loaf and a cheese roll, please." The saleswoman turned around and wrapped up my order.
Acting on pure impulse, I leaned forward to get a better look at the baked goods displayed on the lower shelf. As I did so, my undershirt rode up, exposing not only half of my buttocks but also the lower part of my inner labia in the cleft between them. I knew the two men were staring at me, and I wanted them to see me just like that. With my heart pounding, I straightened back up—just in time, before the saleswoman turned back around to face me with my baked goods. I deliberately reached out to place the money on the counter; this allowed the two men to look past the deep cut of my top, beneath my armpits, and catch a glimpse of my small breasts. I held that pose for a few moments—excited and aroused. I took my baked goods, said goodbye, and smiled at the two men, who were staring back at me wide-eyed.
I left the bakery and crossed the street to enter the park located there. I found a park bench in the shade. I sat down and, with my legs crossed, ate my cheese roll. As I did so, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the bakery. "I'm crazy," I thought. I wanted the men to see my breasts and my ass. I parted my legs slightly and felt the warm air on my pussy.
I gently stroked my thick inner labia, which were swollen with arousal. I let a finger slide into my slit. Thick, clear moisture seeped out.
Suddenly I was startled and closed my legs. A cyclist had appeared out of nowhere and ridden past. Had he noticed me? I opened my legs again and stroked my labia, my breathing becoming heavier. I gently massaged my clitoris in circular motions and became increasingly aroused. Then an idea came to me. I looked around. There was no one in sight. Well, it was almost evening. The mothers had long since left the playgrounds in the park with theor kids, and it was probably still too hot for the joggers. I stood up, hid my bread and key behind a large bush, and then pulled my undershirt over my head.
Naked except for my flip-flops, I stepped out. I was breathing heavily, my heart pounding like crazy. Cautiously, I looked along the path; no one was there. I slowly walked back toward the street, constantly listening for every sound. I could see the street in the distance. Should I turn back? But the temptation was too strong. I could feel the juices trickling from my pussy in thin strands, their ends clinging to the inside of my thighs. Only a few more meters to the street. I mustered all my courage and stepped from the park path onto the sidewalk. The bakery was diagonally opposite. A car with several people was driving in the opposite lane. One of the occupants saw me and pointed. I quickly turned around and ran back to the park bench.
I sat down and spread my legs, starting to rub my clitoris again. First slowly, then faster and harder. I pressed it against my pubic bone while I moved two fingers of my other hand up and down inside my pussy. I imagined a hot guy fucking me right there and then. A powerful orgasm shook me. I ejaculated several loads of my juice. I moaned loudly and writhed back and forth. At that moment, I wouldn't have noticed if someone had been watching me.
I sat on the park bench with my legs spread wide until I calmed down, rubbing the wetness I'd squirted onto my thighs. Then I stood up, feeling incredibly embarrassed. I retrieved my clothes from behind the bushes and pulled my undershirt back over my head. I suddenly felt so empty. I wished I could have worn an oversized tracksuit because I was so ashamed. I hurried home. When I got there, I found my boyfriend watching football on TV. He didn't even look up when I greeted him, which was a good thing. He definitely wouldn't have liked knowing me out on the street in that outfit.
Later, I had trouble falling asleep. I wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, but I thought something like that could only happen to me.
Everything else consists of thought experiments that I have committed to paper. I used a German-English translation tool, and I hope that my story is sufficiently understandable.
The story is about a walk through the city in an undershirt and flip-flops.
A CITY WALK
I was so glad when I got home. It was so hot, and the air conditioning in the office hadn't been working properly. Sweaty and exhausted, I undressed and took a refreshing shower. Afterward, I put on one of my boyfriend's comfortable men's undershirts, went out onto the balcony, and collapsed into a chair. My boyfriend was working the late shift, and I had time to relax.
After a while, I got hungry. I got up and went to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich, but discovered we were out of bread.
Sighing, I grabbed my keys and wallet, slipped on my flip-flops, and opened the front door. It suddenly dawned on me that I was only wearing this undershirt. It was long enough to cover my bottom, and very low-cut at the sides below the armpits. Could I go out like that, or should I wear a bra and panties underneath, or just swap the camisole for a summer dress?
"Oh well, it's not far to the bakery, and besides, it's so hot," I thought, and left my third-floor apartment.
In the stairwell, I encountered a neighbor who came towards me and looked at me with wide eyes. I just nodded with a smile and noticed him watching me go.
Could he see that I wasn't wearing anything under my undershirt when he went upstairs?
I had to laugh inwardly at the way he'd looked, but I wasn't sure if I could actually go out onto the street like that. On the other hand, there wasn't a slope or anything like that outside, unlike in the stairwell.
I opened the door and stepped outside. The heat was overwhelming. I walked slowly along the sidewalk, accompanied by the clacking of my flip-flops. The encounter with my neighbor preoccupied me. Had he seen something? Had it bothered him? I had to grin. I found the thought interesting. While I do occasionally go out without underwear, it's always only in skirts or dresses that are almost knee-length.
Lost in thought, I walked along the sidewalk, feeling the light, warm breeze pressing my undershirt against me and accentuating my breasts. My nipples hardened and were clearly visible beneath the light fabric.
A girl, about 20 years old, walked towards me and stared unabashedly at my chest. I just smiled because I'm used to those kinds of looks when I'm out in public in the summer, almost always without a bra. I have such small breasts that I simply don't need one. The fact that I'm braless is especially noticeable when I wear light tops with thin straps. I only wear a bra at the office because I don't like being stared at by my colleagues, and I don't want to be the talk of the town at work.
I continued walking. A light, warm breeze picked up. I felt it lift my undershirt slightly, revealing the lower part of my bottom. I quickly pulled it back down and glanced over my shoulder. But there was no one behind me who could have seen anything. Actually, I would have liked someone to be behind me; the thought of it was so exciting. Did I have exhibitionist tendencies? I've never been shy and I also like to wear revealing clothes, but this is something completely different.
The next gust of wind came, and this time I didn't stop my bottom from being exposed. It was that thrilling sensation—the thought that the whole city could have caught a glimpse.
I continued on my way. A man in his forties emerged from a house and stared unabashedly at my chest. I walked past him, feeling his gaze lingering on my back.
If a gust of wind were to blow right now, he would see my bottom. But the air remained still. Too bad, I thought, and couldn't help but giggle. I pictured it in my mind: my bare bottom, right there in the middle of the city. I grew increasingly excited as I reached the bakery.
The saleswoman looked at me disapprovingly as I walked in. Two men—probably retirees—were sitting at a small table. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed them staring at me. The saleswoman glanced down at my cleavage and pursed her lips. I knew exactly what she was thinking: Why isn't she wearing a bra? "Yes?" she asked me. I had to clear my throat, as my voice was hoarse. "A country loaf and a cheese roll, please." The saleswoman turned around and wrapped up my order.
Acting on pure impulse, I leaned forward to get a better look at the baked goods displayed on the lower shelf. As I did so, my undershirt rode up, exposing not only half of my buttocks but also the lower part of my inner labia in the cleft between them. I knew the two men were staring at me, and I wanted them to see me just like that. With my heart pounding, I straightened back up—just in time, before the saleswoman turned back around to face me with my baked goods. I deliberately reached out to place the money on the counter; this allowed the two men to look past the deep cut of my top, beneath my armpits, and catch a glimpse of my small breasts. I held that pose for a few moments—excited and aroused. I took my baked goods, said goodbye, and smiled at the two men, who were staring back at me wide-eyed.
I left the bakery and crossed the street to enter the park located there. I found a park bench in the shade. I sat down and, with my legs crossed, ate my cheese roll. As I did so, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the bakery. "I'm crazy," I thought. I wanted the men to see my breasts and my ass. I parted my legs slightly and felt the warm air on my pussy.
I gently stroked my thick inner labia, which were swollen with arousal. I let a finger slide into my slit. Thick, clear moisture seeped out.
Suddenly I was startled and closed my legs. A cyclist had appeared out of nowhere and ridden past. Had he noticed me? I opened my legs again and stroked my labia, my breathing becoming heavier. I gently massaged my clitoris in circular motions and became increasingly aroused. Then an idea came to me. I looked around. There was no one in sight. Well, it was almost evening. The mothers had long since left the playgrounds in the park with theor kids, and it was probably still too hot for the joggers. I stood up, hid my bread and key behind a large bush, and then pulled my undershirt over my head.
Naked except for my flip-flops, I stepped out. I was breathing heavily, my heart pounding like crazy. Cautiously, I looked along the path; no one was there. I slowly walked back toward the street, constantly listening for every sound. I could see the street in the distance. Should I turn back? But the temptation was too strong. I could feel the juices trickling from my pussy in thin strands, their ends clinging to the inside of my thighs. Only a few more meters to the street. I mustered all my courage and stepped from the park path onto the sidewalk. The bakery was diagonally opposite. A car with several people was driving in the opposite lane. One of the occupants saw me and pointed. I quickly turned around and ran back to the park bench.
I sat down and spread my legs, starting to rub my clitoris again. First slowly, then faster and harder. I pressed it against my pubic bone while I moved two fingers of my other hand up and down inside my pussy. I imagined a hot guy fucking me right there and then. A powerful orgasm shook me. I ejaculated several loads of my juice. I moaned loudly and writhed back and forth. At that moment, I wouldn't have noticed if someone had been watching me.
I sat on the park bench with my legs spread wide until I calmed down, rubbing the wetness I'd squirted onto my thighs. Then I stood up, feeling incredibly embarrassed. I retrieved my clothes from behind the bushes and pulled my undershirt back over my head. I suddenly felt so empty. I wished I could have worn an oversized tracksuit because I was so ashamed. I hurried home. When I got there, I found my boyfriend watching football on TV. He didn't even look up when I greeted him, which was a good thing. He definitely wouldn't have liked knowing me out on the street in that outfit.
Later, I had trouble falling asleep. I wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, but I thought something like that could only happen to me.
