I got caught at Work

Yesterday morning, on my way to work, I suddenly felt a strong urge. I work as a caretaker in a facility located in the middle of a park. I usually open the place early in the morning and start with my first tasks.

While I was working, I became very aroused. By the time I finished my tasks, I needed to relieve myself. Instead of going to the restroom, I had an idea: to do it in my office. My office is on the ground floor and has four or five windows facing directly into the park. If I pulled my pants down and touched myself there, anyone passing by could potentially see me.

I like taking risks, so I decided to go for it. Even though the pavilion is in one of the busiest areas of the park, it was still early, and I thought it could be an intense experience.

I went through with it. I pulled my pants down to my ankles and sat on the cold plastic chair, which made me jump a bit but also added to the excitement. I started pleasuring myself.

In the middle of it, I suddenly heard a woman’s voice—shocked and high-pitched. I turned around, still exposed, and saw a woman standing there, staring at me in disbelief and discomfort. She quickly shut the office door and asked through it if I was okay. I apologized.

She then asked if she could borrow a volleyball. I got dressed, grabbed some volleyballs, and opened the door. I apologized again. She gave a slightly amused smile, glanced at the obvious bulge in my jeans, and told me it wasn’t a big deal—but that it was risky and not appropriate. She gave me a bit of a moral lecture, took one last look, and then left.

As soon as she was gone, instead of learning from the situation, I felt even more excited from the adrenaline and stress. I pulled my pants down again and continued.

That was yesterday. Right now, I’m at work again. It’s late, and I’m currently in a fairly isolated room—but one that can still be seen through the windows—and I’m doing the same thing again.