I think your thighs just twitched.
The warm wet that you cant ignore, signaling your hunger…your desire.
I understand if you need to try and fight the sensation, I’m sure this is somewhat inconvenient. Yet, your struggle to contain the slow burn will only accelerate it’s call.
Try mightily to put it out of your mind, and your breasts tingle, nipples harden. Shift in your seat, vainly occupying yourself with other matters, and your clit will throb with an urgency that breaks your resolve.
“Not now!” you plead to yourself…
…Sweetheart, it’s far to late for mercy. Your body is demanding, extorting you for luscious, languid, explosive relief.
Find a space, some makeshift privacy…somewhere to plunge and caress and fondle and edge and peak. A restroom, your car, behind a tall hedge, the dressing room.
Let it consume you, for fighting it only makes the ache become klaxon.
I want to know that your fingers are slick, your body wracked with unmeasurable wave after wave as you stifle (or maybe not) cries of euphoria…I want you so oblivious, so lost to this carnal sensation, that you have no care who sees or hears.
You need to cum.
And you need to cum now!