Just the other day, travelling upstairs on the empty bus from work, I was astounded by the sight of a woman masturbating. Now this may seem like an unbelievable tale told around a pub table by coarse friends.
The two of us sitting opposite sides, me with a clear view of her actions. Somewhat shocked at what I was witnessing, I struggled to hide my obvious interest.
The woman, no older than thirty, had her eyes closed for most of time, which made the whole scene seem even more erotic. I switch my gaze from her face to her hand, which was frantically working away down the front of her jeans.
She is aware of my presence, but not at all fazed by my attention.
The act of self-love lasts for nearly ten minutes, and the woman finishes up with a wet-wipe for her hands. She then stands to leave, smiles and ends her journey with a“thank you”.