Coffee Break Flash

I found myself on the way back to the office from clients late morning and fancied a better coffee than the office brew so popped into a small independent coffee shop, one I’d heard good reports of.

Utter rubbish. I was on my way back from clients but I was so horny that I’d had little sleep. Last Wednesday was still occupying my thoughts. I’d fingered myself off twice overnight but still awoke with a need.

I hoped I was about to fulfill it.

I bought my mocha, treated myself to a danish, (such decadence!), and found myself a table. The shop was busy and I had little choice. The tables were in rows with a long padded seating area running along the rear wall. My table was the second out from that bench which was occupied by a middle aged couple, the man facing me, the woman with her back to me, I thought in their fifties. I pulled out a chair and sat facing them.

I took out my phone and started idly reading while enjoying my coffee and cake and didn’t really give the two another thought. Oh come on Trace, be honest. The reason you’d come in was the hope of being able to flash someone.

’Tis true! They looked perfect. He was hardly handsome but he was male. That’s all I needed.

I glanced up and caught the man looking at me, or more accurately at my legs. I had them crossed. I was dressed for the office, a pencil skirt and jacket, stockings, and black undies including suspenders. I glanced down at my legs. I hadn’t sat with a view to flashing (No honestly, I’d planned to see how things went.) and my check confirmed as far as I could see that was the situation. So he was just enjoying a tiny bit of thigh. He needed rewarding for effort.

I kept my eyes down on my phone, but still had the pair in my sight. I uncrossed my legs and left my knees well apart. About eight inches I should think. It was as far as the skirt would allow and I didn’t want to hitch it up. Yet.

My voyeur's attention was on his wife as I did that but I expected it wouldn’t be long before his eyes came over to sneak another peek. As expected, they did. Except this time they were greeted with a cavern to explore. The lighting in the cafe was not the brightest unfortunately and unluckily I had black knickers on. I wondered if he’d be able to see them. Only one thing to do.

I slid my bum forward on the seat and my legs slid out from under my skirt. The hem now above my stocking welts, the metal clasps of the suspender belt on display. That was better. I can’t describe the feeling when doing this. A sense of release in a way. An escape from a cage. Freedom. Not for the viewer. My attentive male was now a prisoner of the view. Captured by my lingerie.

Having hoisted the skirt I could now spread my legs more and did as far as I could under the table. Now I was fairly certain he’d be able to see my knickers!

Oh, that feeling. What an utter slut. What would be thinking? I didn’t look the part. No chav. No slut. A middle-class professional woman. But they don’t sit with their legs wide apart revealing their underwear. Do they? Well, this one did.

I held my coffee cup in front of my face to hide my smile. I could imagine the enlarging bulge in his trousers from where I sat as he was clearly having trouble concentrating on what his wife was saying.

I wondered if I could go a step further. A quick glance around the shop showed it was slightly emptier than when I’d come in. No one else had much of a view of my lower half. Yeah, Trace, go for it. I put the cup down. I wasn’t smiling anymore. This had now moved to serious sexual connotations. I could feel the dampness in my knickers at the thought of what I was about to do.

I pushed the chair back slightly so my bum was right on the edge. Slipped my hands up my skirt and a finger up under my knickers on each side and tugged them down and left them around my ankles. God. I was moving from damp to wet. Such a turn-on.

I swear the guy was almost sweating!

He’d become immobile, his eyes locked on the target at the top of my legs.

After last week with Mary and Carol et al, I realised how much having an audience heightened my sexual gratification. So it was now.

I held my cup again in both hands in front of my face hiding my smile but emphasising my eyes. I stared at him while letting my knees sway. Touching them together, parting them to the full extremities. Slowly. His eyes! Mesmerised by the movement. Could one hypnotise like this? He managed to pull his eyes up momentarily to look into mine. I simply raised an eyebrow. If he’d had a mouthful of coffee it would have showered his wife.

They had already been seated when I arrived so would no doubt soon be leaving. I had one more thing I desperately wanted to do before they did.

I put my cup down, dropped a hand to my leg, pushed it up my skirt and started fingering myself. I was soaking. I daren’t do it for too long. Having an uncontrollable orgasm in the middle of a coffee shop might attract a little too much attention.

I noticed one of my voyeur's hands dropping to the same region of his anatomy that mine occupied. For a brief moment I thought, hoped, he was going to take his cock out, but from what I could see he was quietly rubbing himself through his trousers. Dangerous! Would he cum? That would have been a real result but he didn’t. Not as far as I could tell anyway. I think he was trying to convey his appreciation for the show. His wife said something and picked up her bags. Damn, they were leaving.

She led the way and as they passed me he blew me a kiss! How sweet!

I hitched my knicks back up, picked up my bag and hurried to the loo. I prayed it would be empty. No way could I walk back to the office given how I felt. I was in desperate need of releasing my orgasm. It was empty and I released the pent up feeling. I don’t think they heard in the cafe!

Naughty Tracy! Hey ho, back to work!