The Park Bench

"I'm pretty sure I saw you in the park the other day," I wrote after Chrissy and I matched on a dating site.

She responded with "ohhhh?" and a blushing emoji. "What did you see?"

And suddenly I was very, very curious. What HAD I seen? I had seen a red-headed beauty dressed in black pants, a dark blue sweater, a black jacket, with earphones in and her phone in her hand. Maybe she'd been swiping on Tinder at that very moment. From what I could tell it looked like she had some lovely curves beneath that gray sweater.

"What did I see?" I wrote. "I saw an incredibly gorgeous red-head looking at her phone and listening to music. I saw someone I wish I had sat next to and said hello to."

"LOL soooo glad you didn't sit down next to me," she replied.

"Aw, what? Why?"

"Oh, not you hunny. You're a handsome devil," she wrote. "It's just that I wasn't listening to music. I wouldn't have wanted you to hear what was in my ears. Or see what was on my screen!!!!"

"Now I NEED to know what you were looking at lol"

"I don't want you to judge me," she typed.

"No judgments here! I'm all sorts of open-minded :)"

"Promise?" with a winky face.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," I wrote, with my heart beating hard.

"Okaaaaaaay. But you promised... I was watching porn."

"Whoa, that's hottttt. What made you watch porn on a park bench out in the open?"

"I dunno. Sometimes I just get horny and want to play. Can't help myself."

"Wait... did you... you know?"

"Maaaaaaybe :) Is that bad? You're judging me, aren't you?"

"No way. I think that's fucking hot. Are you serious? You're just messing with me, right?"

"Haha I wish I was messing with you, I wouldn't be so embarrassed right now."

"Don't be embarrassed. AT ALL. I just wish I had stuck around to watch. How in the world did you pull that off?"

The dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. I held my breath.

"Why don't you stop and watch next time and you'll see how I pulled it off," she wrote.

"I would LOVE to. When and where and I'll be there."

* * * * * * * *

At three o'clock the next afternoon I walked the same path I had walked a handful of days earlier. The bench was empty, and I was sure Chrissy had been toying with me the whole time. I kept walking to the end of the path where it hit the tennis courts, then turned back around for one more sweep. As I approached the opening where I could view the bench I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

"Where are you?"

I stopped behind a giant tree whose trunk had split leaving a gap just about eye level and saw Chrissy sitting in the middle of the green bench. She was wearing a black coat cinched at the waist, her red hair sat about her shoulders in layers, and she wore a gray mask covering her mouth and nose. I saw a hint of gray at her chest where the coat sat slightly open.

"I see you," I wrote.

"Where are you I can't see you" she wrote.

"Don't want you to know where I am. Don't want you playing to me. I want you to go as if I'm not here. Just know I'm watching.

"How do I know you're really here tho? What if I'm out here by myself like an idiot?"

"I want to know what's under that coat." I answered as proof. "I think I see a gray top. And your mask is probably a good idea in case anyone else sees :)"

Her phone was in her left hand, and as I saw her looking down at it, she took her right hand and pulled the lapel of her coat aside slightly, as if she was distracted and absent-mindedly moving her hand around. She was good. Underneath she wore a gray sweater, but beyond that I couldn't tell any more.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"Ribbed gray sweater. It's hot seeing you work, knowing I'm watching but also pretending to other people you don't know what you're doing."

"Are there people watching me?"

"I hope so," I wrote. "But I don't see anybody. No more now. I want you to just go without me. Recreate the other day."

"It won't be exactly like the other day. I know you're there watching. And that's making me extremely wet. But ok."

Her fingers moved across her phone, but no dots appeared on my screen, and I guessed that she was beginning to look for porn. My heart was beating hard against my chest, and I wondered about Chrissy's ability to appear so calm and still. I imagined I would've been trembling from nerves had I been in her place.

Chrissy still held her phone in her left hand, and her right was still at the collar of her coat from when she had teased it open for me to see her gray sweater. Now she moved it so it was inside the coat and resting above her left breast. She seemed to be staring intently at her phone, never lifting her head to see if anybody was nearby. I watched her fingers spread, her pinky beginning to move circularly. I imagined her nipple stiffening against her finger.

She slid her hand between her breasts, then lowered it slowly, pushing down the belt of her coat and exposing more of the sweater. She then pulled the coat to the right so that both of her breasts were now framed by each lapel. Her hand slid across her stomach, then up between her breasts, then cupped her left breast. Chrissy squeezed, tightening the fabric across her tits, making it clear she wasn't wearing anything underneath her sweater, her nipples pushing outward.

Just then I saw an elderly couple emerge on the path just behind Chrissy's bench. I watched nervously as they walked around the left side of the bench then circle in front of Chrissy just as her middle finger was circling against her left nipple. Her eyes shot upward and widened in surprise, and I saw her bite her lip, smile, and scan the area for my watching eyes or that of anyone else who might be aware of her.

But the entire time her hand never dropped from her breast, and now her middle finger began again running circles around her nipple. Her commitment and daring were inspiring an involuntary response from my body.

Her eyes returned to her phone. Chrissy slid her right hand down from her breasts, over her stomach, before it then disappeared below her coat. I watched as her knees parted slightly. I was dying to know what she wore beneath.

If I had come across her not knowing what she was up to (as I had just the week before) I don't think I would have had an inkling. She had angled her arm just so, her right elbow out so there was no knowing exactly how far middle her right hand had gone downward. But I knew. I knew not just from the anticipation but also from the flush of her face, the focus of her eyes on the phone, the slight, slight bounce of her elbow.

I wanted badly to text her; ask her what she was watching; what she was thinking; how she felt knowing I was watching; to let her know I was hard; ask if she wanted me to sit next to her; ask her if she wanted me to finger her. Instead I stayed immobile, rooted to the ground behind the giant tree.

Chrissy's movement became more noticeable, her arm moving more up and down now. Her butt slid forward slightly, her body slouched a little lower. She lifted her head and scanned the pathway where I stood. She looked right, then left, then back at her phone as she brought her hand back to the surface and began undoing the belt of her coat. I watched in awe as the ends of her belt dropped to her side in front of the bench and her knees spread slightly. Her hand returned beneath her coat. Her hand resumed moving, in circles now, each movement disturbing her coat and separating the flaps.

I found myself nervous at her boldness but also desirous of more daring movement. And Chrissy obliged. She tilted her head back, letting her hand holding the phone to drop to her left thigh face down, her fingers pulling her coat aside exposing nothing underneath but the white flesh of her inner thigh all the way up to her pussy, where her hand was furiously moving in circles. She slid a bit lower in the seat and spread her legs fully, completely exposing her entire lower half, her gray sweater riding up above her belly button.

She was completely immersed in her rubbing now, her eyes closed, no concern whatsoever for her surroundings or any possible audience, including me. I watched as her hand moved steadily, quickly, her body beginning to tense. Her torso lengthened, her legs stretched out, bringing my eyes for the first time to her gray knee high boots that matched her sweater. The contrast of her boots, the coat, and her hips gave me an image I knew I would both remember forever and return to over and over in my sexual fantasies.

Her body was now a straight line from feet to head, her butt barely at the edge of the park bench as if she might slip off at any second. I watched her hand bounce up and down, two fingers doing all the work on her clit, her body shaking, shaking, shaking until there was a giant contraction, her chin slamming down tucked to her chest. Her shaking turned to quivering. Her knees pulling together, her torso coming forward covering her pussy from my view. Simultaneously I realized the tension in my own body and began relaxing my stiff posture if not my more focused stiffness.

I looked around both for her sake as well as my own, and then felt the vibration of my phone.

"OH MY GODDD!!!!"

"You are FUCKING incredible!" I wrote. "Did you feel good?"

"Amaaaaaaazing" she replied. "And you? Did YOU feel good?"

"I was incredibly turned on," I wrote. "But I didn't play if that's what you meant."

"Aw why not?"

"Just wanted to watch I guess."

"Did you film me or take any pictures?" she asked.

"No. Didn't know if that was allowed."

The dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

"Next Time," she wrote, adding a winky face.

https://yoxuwepo.substack.com/p/laraine-oneal