Dog park

I noticed her one night as I was walking my dog. He is now quite old, so I have to take him out late at night, otherwise he has trouble holding it till morning. Anyway, she was with her own dog in the dog park. I don’t usually go into the dog park, although it’s right next to my apartment, because my dog is not very social, and, well, neither am I. This night, however, I decided to go sit on the bench in the dog park rather than make the usual tour around the block. Yes. I admit. It was mostly so I could ogle her. She looked like she was on the older side of being a teenager, with a full body, Just shy of being fat. She had a nice bust and a round butt. They were quite obvious because she was wearing a tank top and tights, so not much was left for the imagination. As I got closer, I could see that her face was not on the same level as her body. She was wearing thick glasses and had buck teeth. She was not ugly, but definitely not pretty either. That was fine with me. I would be more than happy to concentrate on her body. So there we were, my dog ignoring hers after the mandatory crotch sniff, but more than happy to receive some attention from her. I used the opportunity to look over her body as she bent down in order to pet him. I also made some light, casual conversation. To try and be a little less creepy, you know.

Over the next few nights we met in the dog park a few more times and through our chats, I learned a little more about her. Of course, I mostly learned about her dog, but that’s not relevant here, is it? she was nearly 18 and close to finishing high school and she also lived nearby. She seemed a little shy but nice enough for a little bit of light banter. Of course, I was happy that she kept up her tight outfits allowing me to covertly appreciate her figure.

Now I myself am already 37 years old. I look OK, I guess. A little too much in the gut but also some muscles and a nice smile. So OK. Yeah. I also look quite a bit younger than my age, so I suppose I did not seem like a father figure to her but I would like to think more as a cool guy who’s a little older than her. I’m OK with the ladies these days. I had some issues with self-confidence when I was younger, but these days I’m fine with myself, with my hidden, darker, inner core. I mostly just don’t care enough to invest in trying to build another relationship. So I guess that as I was putting on my best face with her, she was probably feeling good with the attention.

I don’t know what it was about her, and I suppose that, like always, it was more about me and my current state of self. If you are not ready and open for a relationship, then even if miss right is bopping you on the nose, you will not see her that way. Apparently the same is true for other types of ‘relationships’. Anyway, for some reason, at this time in my life, I decided to follow up on this. See if it can lead to some fun.

So I steered the conversation to boyfriends and relationships. She was rather shy about this, but she did share that she did not yet have a serious relationship.

Ok. Here goes nothing. Or a slap on the face…

“So, no one gets to enjoy a closer look at this body of yours?”

She was blushing furiously but not striking out. A good start. “No. not really.”

“Not even yourself? Don’t you stand in front of the mirror and admire yourself? I would if had this body. Do you at least touch yourself? It’s not the same as when someone else does it, but these curves need an appreciative hand to caress them, even if it’s your own.”

She didn’t know how to handle this. She continued to blush and mumble a little, but I think she took some of that as a complement. Good.

“So, do you at least masturbate?”

Th blush now deepened, although I did not think it was possible and her eyes widened. She looked around, as if to make sure we were really alone and then managed to squeak a small “yes.”

“Let me guess, in the middle of the night? Deep under your covers?”

A small nod was the only answer this time.

“So you never use toys? Or do it in the shower? Or in front of the mirror?”

Again the wide eyes. This time with a head shake.

“Oh, come on. Live a little. At least look at yourself when you’re doing it. Imagine someone else is touching you.”

Enough for tonight, I thought, and let her stew in quiet for a few minutes before taking my leave for the evening.

On the next night, she was more subdued than usual but we still talked a little about inconsequential things. Time to turn the heat on again.

“So, did you do it?”

Wide eyes, a wild look, again the squeaky voice, “Did what?”

“Masturbate in front of the mirror. You said you would try.” She said no such thing, but she was so stressed yesterday she probably wasn’t too sure of her own memories.

A shake of her head.

I faked a disappointed sigh.

The rest of the evening was quiet. She was flustered and I was acting aloof. She threw covert glances at me from time to time. I could nearly see the gears turning in her head, but she did not speak.

On the night after, I could see that she was more exited, so I acted more friendly and talked about the weather and whatnot. I could see that she wanted to tell me something but didn’t know how to start and I did not intend to make it easy for her.

Finally, I quieted down and looked at her expectantly.

“I did it.”

“Did what?” I will not make it easy for her.

“Umm, you know, masturbated. Umm, and I looked in the mirror. Like you said.”

“Oh, come on. Details. What did you do? How did it feel?”

“I don’t know, well, I waited until everyone went to sleep and I just turned on a night light and I got out of bed and I did it. it felt nice, I guess.”

From her excitement, it seemed that nice was underselling it, although I didn’t know if it was the physical aspect or the impropriety that got her excited.

“Did you take off your clothes? Where did you touch yourself? What did you think about?” I tried not to be too harsh, but I was insistent. I wanted her to be excited but also to feel that she disappointed me and had to make it up to me somehow.

“Well, I just put my hand in pajama bottoms and did it. I was terrified my mom will come in the door. I didn’t really think about anything else.”

“How can you make it sound so boring? What’s the point of standing in front of the mirror if you don’t see anything? Look at yourself while you’re doing it. imagine that it’s somebody else who’s watching you.”

This time she did actually reply, “I’ll try”. It was barely audible, but definitely there.

“I did it. I lowered my pants and looked in the mirror while I did it.” She was positively bubbling with excitement. I found it hilariously adorable. She was so vanilla. So pure when compared to my porn jaded self.

“And what did you think about? Did you have a nice fantasy to go with the action?”

“No, not really. I was too busy listening to noises around the house to be able to concentrate on anything else.”

“But having a good fantasy, a good story to imagine is more than half the fun. At least try to imagine that it’s someone else who’s touching you or that you are looking at some other girl in the mirror. And what about your tits?”

“Umm, what about them?”

“Do you touch them when you masturbate? Do you squeeze them? Pinch your nipples, shake them?”

“No, I just put my hand down there.” Her face was contorted as she considered her failings. Hah.

“Yesterday I took my breasts out too. I even touched my nipple a little.”

“And how did that feel?”

“OK, I think. It was a little exciting.”

“Are your nipples sensitive? Do they stand up when you touch them?”

“A little. Maybe. I don’t really know.”

“Oh, come on. It’s your own body. How can you not know? Try it. Caress them, wet them, pinch them, pull them. See what works for you. How can you let your partner know what to do if you don’t know yourself?”

She was deep in thought. Where did a partner suddenly appear from?

This evening, her blush was especially deep. She was vibrating with excitement but also finding it very hard to overcome her shame.

“My nipples.”

“Yes?”

“If I pinch them and pull them a little, well, they grow. Like down there. And then if I touch them, it’s really nice.”

“Down there?”

“You know,” she was so cute, trying to find a way to describe her acts and her body without using bluntly sexual term, “My lips and my, my clit.”

“Hmm. Tomorrow I will be going abroad for a week for work. You will not do anything while I’m gone, right?”

She looked like I’ve taken away her favorite toy but she stared down at the ground and mumbled, “No. I’ll wait.”

I came back home a week later, but that evening, I went out with my dog earlier. To keep her on edge.

When I did appear at the dog park the next night, she nearly jumped on me and hugged me, stopping herself at the last second.

I greeted her casually and talked about my trip, about the weather, about dogs. Watching as her impatience grew. When I wound down and let silence reign for a few minutes, she finally spoke.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Hmm. Good.”

Silence.

I had to hold myself rigid to not burst out laughing at her disappointment at my flippant reply, at her efforts at gathering herself for the next bit I forced her to say out loud.

“So, can I do it tonight?” It wasn’t very loud. I had to strain myself up to pick up her words. She was speaking so softly. A good thing I didn’t have to guess what she was going to say.

I felt a sense of accomplishment at her words. Her asking me for something that was not mine to give.

“I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

“wha..? but I waited until you returned. Please.”

I looked at her silently for a few seconds, forcing her to drop her gaze.

“I give you advice. I help you. I guide you. I increase your pleasure. And you can’t even give me proper feedback on how it goes, thorough de***********ions of what you did. And no, “I touched myself down there” does not count.”

“Oh. But I’m trying. It’s really hard for me to talk about that. Please. I promise I’ll try harder to give you more details.”

“Hmm. I don’t think you have it in you. you haven’t managed it until now. You know what? At least you can ask properly.”

“Properly?”

“Yes. Ask me properly, in detail, what you want of me.”

“Umm, Ok.”

As she was trying to phrase her request, I added, “Actually, you should be on your knees.”

“On my knees?”, the look of horror on her face was priceless.

“Yeah. So I’ll know you really mean what you’re asking for.”

Her face went through several expressions as she considered her options. It settled on determination and she slowly stood in front of me, before sinking to her knees.

It was a lovely moment. Hopefully one of many to come.

“Please, I want to masturbate tonight.”

I let her stew for a few seconds as she knelt before me, her gaze turned down to avoid meeting my eyes.

“Passable. Tonight you will stand in front of the mirror. You will drop your pants to your knees. You will raise your shirt above your tits. You will tweak both nipples until they are standing proud and then you will masturbate.”

Some of the tension left her body, a slight smile returning to her face and her hands brushed the sides of her body, as if preparing to caress her naked skin.

I stood up, called to my dog and left, leaving her on her knees. When I exited the park, she shook herself, as if awakening from a spell and quickly rose to her feet, glancing furtively around to make sure no one saw her.

“Well, how was your session yesterday?”

She tried to organize her thoughts. Probably trying to find ways to keep some dignity while giving me more pleasing de***********ions. Just when she finally turned to speak to me, I raised my finger to stop her and then pointed at the ground before me. She grimaced, glanced around, but then took a deep breath and moved before me and then down to her knees.

“Umm, so I did what you said. I stood in front of the mirror and I played with my nipples and then I played with my clit. It was exciting. I enjoyed it.” It was still a very dry de***********ion compared to my imagination, but she was so proud when she managed to say ‘nipples’ and ‘clit’.

“That’s it? that’s the sum of your de***********ive abilities? I played with my clit and I liked it?