Pants and Jean shopping: the bane of my existence. I probably tried on a dozen pairs and was unhappy with all of them. Feeling defeated I slumped down on the rectangular metal stool in the fitting room. The cold metal against the back of my bare thighs felt nice. I sat there enjoying the sensation, hesitant to get dressed and accept my fate. Instead a familiar filthy thought creeped in my mind, “If I stay quiet enough, no one will know…”

Those primal urges always took over in places they shouldn’t. More often than not, I gave into them. “Touch yourself, you know you want to. You know you need to.” Before I could give it a second thought, my legs were spread. Panties already began to show signs of my arousal seeping though.

I closed my eyes and let my finger tips slide underneath my shirt. Honing in on my hardening nipples, I pulled and twisted them over my bra. I love how quickly they were to react, and how sensitive they were to touch. It didn’t take long before my shirt came off and my bra was on the floor. I spent several minutes teasing my nipples and trying to stifle my moans, before I couldn’t ignore how wet and aching my pussy was.

The bustling of folks around the fitting room provided the perfect white noise soundtrack. I slipped off my wet panties, sat back down on the metal stool and began to spread my legs once more. I wasted no time bringing my fingertips to work my clit. fuck it felt so good instantly. But something took over. Like a switch flipped on. I could easily continue rub my hungry cunt til I explode. But, what if I needed something a bit more.

Without hesitation I got up and repositioned myself facing the stool, aligning the corner of the seat with my pussy. I lowered myself on to it. Before I knew it the corner of that metal stool felt cold on my clit. Instinctively I began to grind and buck my hips against it. I held on to the sides for support. Eyes closed, humping and grinding away like a bitch in heat. Completely naked in the fitting room but I couldn’t stop.

Harder. Faster. Biting my lip so I wouldn’t moan loudly. My breathing heavy and fast. Fuck it felt so good. The corner of that stool stimulating my clit while my witness trickled out of me. don’t fucking stop I fantasized about being caught. Maybe some hot store employee coming by to check on me, hearing my stifled pleasure sounds. Opening the door discreetly only to see like a filthy fucking slut. Rubbing his cock over his pants without me knowing. That delicious fantasy caused me to fuck the corner of that stool even harder.

I was completely lost in it. My body started to tense up. I was grinding harder now. Sweating. Heart racing. I needed to cum. It didn’t take long from that moment for me to explode. Legs shaking, cumming hard in that fitting room. I collapsed on the stool, just trying to catch my breath, trying not to scream. Fuck it felt so fucking good. God I felt like such a whore

After taking a few moments to regain my composure I lifted myself off of the stool and saw it slick with my juices. I used my panties to wipe it clean, got dressed, and left.

I may have made myself cum again once I got home :p