I decided to go to the mall to live my fantasy. I decided to wear Ben Wa balls. I like love balls, they give me enough stimulation to keep me warm and disturbed, and if I’m really excited, they can even fuck me good without touching me. I also took my netbook with me to take notes on how I could develop Amsterdam’s history. I sat in the Starbucks of the mall and ordered a great cappuccino and started thinking about the story and its characters.
The good thing about Ben Wa’s balls is they’re completely silent. No one will suspect that something “inappropriate” is going on, at least as long as I can keep quiet. I pressed my pelvic muscles and quickly felt the familiar sensation of moving them inside me, clicking together, caressing my walls. I admit I was wet - it was the idea to wear then - and I started looking at people in the store and mall. The housewives, the chores, the teenagers who spend their money, some businessmen and none of them knew that I was sitting there, having the outline of an erotic story on my screen and working myself in a state where excitement gradually began to change into a need.
I was breathing a little faster, I felt my face getting a little hot and I knew the pale pink puff was starting to cover my chest. I reached the point where I didn’t need to concentrate much to have my pussy tight and make them move and I was happy that I was wearing tight cotton panties that would capture the moisture I felt built. I noticed a woman, maybe in the early 1930s she was looking at me from time to time, and I realized that she could see my little movements from her place when I shook my balls inside me. The idea that she might be suspicious that something was happening sent an excitement and embarrassment through me, making me tighten hard on the balls, causing one to be pressed against the entrance of my breast and the other to push on my g-spot, the sensations so strong that I had to fight the urge to reach between my legs. I looked at her from the corner of my eyes, I saw her still looking at me, not openly, but still… and I tried to breathe deeply and relax.
I was wondering what she would think if she knew I was secretly pleasant in public. She think I’m a pervert? Or enjoy it, maybe even secretly get excited? I was wondering if she was bi or even… and I looked at her. She wasn’t what you would call a beauty, she didn’t wear makeup and her face showed that she didn’t spend much time in the gym, but she had breasts big enough under her shirt, breasts that were supported by an old, conservative bra that was clearly described under her top.
She stopped looking and drank her coffee, read a magazine and I tried to focus on my story again. I pressed the balls again, making them move every few seconds and felt how my pussy started to do it of its own..
Hurry… relax… hurry… mm it still presses on this place… stronger pressure… I breathed stronger, feeling wet had reached my panties… a man who passed by, smiled at me… if he could… squeeze… I felt almost feverish now and I was looking at the woman again, only to see her place was empty now. I realize my legs move slightly every time I press my pussy and I know I need sperm. I imagine the woman is between my legs, licking me and the mental image is so strong, I have trouble not moaning.
I close my netbook and get up, I didn’t want to wait and I went to the bathroom. The boy at the office takes care of me while I’m passing by and I wonder briefly what he would do if he knew what I was going to do. I felt the balls moving in me walking and I’m glad to wear panties because he prevented them from falling while my pussy presses them again without my will.
I go into the bathroom, one stand is busy and I slide into the other, I wait for a moment, I don’t know if I should wait until the other person is gone, but then the idea of doing it while a stranger sits next to me, separated only by a thin wall brings me and I press the balls. I focus on the feelings in me.
The heat on my breasts… the need for my clitoris, begging to be touched… pressing… I caress my legs, I feel my breath speeding and trying to be calm… tighten… touch my panties slightly, hear a gas, my gas. My pussy has a life all alone now, making love to the balls in it and I lean back with my eyes closed. I feel love being made in my pussy slowly accelerate… God, it’s still at my end… My hands cut my breasts through my tissues, squeeze them slightly, then stronger… I hear the rustling of clothes in the stall next to me, when the person gets up, but I am more attentive than the pressure of my pussy turns into hot waves that swallow my body and then into spasms that make me tense and inhale abruptly, biting my lower lip in an almost successful attempt to stay quiet.
I sit on the toilet, feeling my breath slowly returning to normal as the toilet door opens and closes and I feel the wonderful rush to be almost caught as I wonder if the next woman realized what happened.