"Well gee, my humiliation is pretty much complete," she said to herself. "But at least it was my own. That amounts to something, doesn't it?" She glanced up to the security camera, swiveling around toward her on its constant back-and-forth search for shoplifters. A very nasty idea filled Tamara's already oversexed and humiliated mind. Clearing her items off the small bench at the back of the stall, she sat with one leg up on the hard seat and the other stretched out to the side. With her tits still hanging free from the skimpy halter top, she placed her left hand on her right breast and began caressing and squeezing it, quickly bringing the nipple to full attention. Her right hand slid down between her thighs. She had masturbated in private a few times in her younger years so knew what to do to get herself off. She rubbed up and down the little creases between her crotch and thighs, moving slowly inward across her pussy lips until she could slide her middle finger into her dripping. He continued to watch, and I watched his face grow nervous as my hand drew closer to my face. Where his face had seemed inquisitive he now reacted as a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar as I stopped my hand under my eyes. And finally his eyes joined mine. What was this connection I felt and did he feel it? Was it just a game for him? His eyes were so serious and deep. I felt his expression change to that of a boy in a toy store. Now my thoughts starting wandering to thoughts of touching him. If he could touch my hand through glass in such a powerful way, imagine how he could touch me in real life. Could I be having these thoughts about a stranger? I brought up my other hand and he ‘touched’ it also and we stood ‘touching’ hands looking into each others eyes. I heard a cup being put on my table and didn’t dare look away, but also wondered at what I was doing. I gave in and let a smile spread across my face. He looked at me as if he were a puppet and my smile could turn his.
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