Climax being spied on

I just turned forty this year, right in the prime of my life. I always thought of myself as a woman who was indifferent to sex, or at least that my libido wasn't strong. But something happened last May that made me deeply aware of the surging needs of a woman in her prime. Since divorcing my philandering husband in the latter half of 2006, I've been raising my child alone. Although I've had a few boyfriends on and off, and had sex intermittently—some pleasurable, some unsatisfying—generally speaking, I've had sex about three times a month, and it doesn't feel like sex is indispensable. Last year, my child was taking the college entrance exam, and in January, he applied to a university for a sports-specific admission program. Then, in May, an acquaintance from that university, whom I'd met through various connections, invited me to discuss the admission process—a precaution, I suppose. I went on a Saturday, and since I arrived early, the sports academy was deserted, and he wouldn't be there for a while, so I had to wait there, feeling utterly bored. I've had a long-standing habit of needing to defecate around nine in the morning. After searching for ages, I finally found a men's restroom in the very corner of the teachers' office building. To my dismay, there was no women's restroom! Perhaps there are mostly male teachers at the physical education department. In my haste, and seeing no one else around, I rushed into the men's restroom and chose a stall by the window. The restroom wasn't big, with only three stalls, a very standard design, with a door and a gap of about two or three inches at the bottom. Just as I squatted down, before I could even enjoy the relief, I heard hurried footsteps in the aisle. I immediately realized a boy was coming and quickly held my breath. Sure enough, footsteps entered, followed by a rapid splashing sound from the urinal—it sounded powerful, probably from a young man. Just then, my waste, accumulated overnight, was completely released. I couldn't help but let out a satisfied groan and flushed the toilet. Perhaps my groan alerted the boy urinating that a woman was using the restroom. At first, I didn't think much of it. I only heard rustling sounds outside the door and footsteps that he seemed to be deliberately keeping quiet.
The footsteps went from the toilet door to the stall door, and then back again. I felt something was off, but I didn't realize he might be looking around to see if anyone was spying. After a while, he seemed excited about what he was doing, his breathing becoming heavier. I noticed his rapid breathing near the door, and my intuition told me that the man was definitely spying. To confirm my suspicion, I quietly took a small makeup mirror from my bag and subtly adjusted the angle. Sure enough, he was kneeling on the floor, his face pressed tightly against the crack in the door, his eyes fixed on my unguarded genitals. To avoid letting him know I'd seen him, he deliberately only reflected his feet in the mirror. A wave of panic washed over me. My first instinct was to call for help, but then I thought better of it. I was in the men's restroom; if someone came, how could I explain myself? I just hoped he would leave quickly. Just as I was panicking, I suddenly heard him say very softly but clearly, "What a beautiful butt." For some reason, hearing him say that calmed me down a bit. Since I'd already seen it, I might as well let him see it. A mix of nervousness and a slight thrill began to rise within me. To be honest, I'd been busy with my child's school entrance exams and hadn't had sex for almost four or five months. It was impossible to say I didn't want it at all. As a woman in my early forties, being praised for my most private area by a young man made me feel a little smug. Just then, I heard him whisper again, "Such a full butt," "So much pubic hair, so alluring," "Sister, your labia majora are so full..."
I've always considered my genitals very attractive—thick, long, black pubic hair, plump labia majora, and sexy, pink labia minora. Several men I've slept with over the years have said the same thing. His slightly lewd words, combined with his rapid breathing, were indeed more potent than an aphrodisiac. It quickly aroused my desire. I couldn't help but think that his eyes were practically bulging out of his head, and he was probably nervously masturbating while staring at my sexy genitals. Sure enough, when he saw that I didn't make a sound after he spoke, he became bolder, pressing his eyes even closer. If I tilted my head slightly, I could see his face pressed against the crack in the door, about a foot away from my genitals. At the same time, he said, "Good sister, spread your legs a little wider, let your little brother see more clearly, okay?" I hesitated for a moment, but still spread my legs as wide as possible. I could feel myself tearing my labia minora apart. "Oh, it feels so good, good sister, what a beautiful, sexy ass!" "Sister, your clitoris is hard, do you want it? Open the door, and your little brother will use this **** to penetrate you." Opening the door was absolutely out of the question; I didn't have that kind of courage. Undeniably, the thought of this shameful and private area being so brazenly exposed by a young man, who was probably even masturbating right in front of this gushing, wet hole, still overwhelmed me with desire. "Sister, touch your clitoris, it feels so good," he said. These kids, so young and already knowing how pleasurable it is for a woman to touch her clitoris, it's unbelievable. After a while, he called out again, "Auntie, spread your labia minora, spread your vulva, let me see your horny vulva, see your vulva that's been penetrated by so many men's penises." As if out of control, I did as he instructed, gently pulling my labia minora apart with both hands. I knew that my vulva was now completely exposed to him. "Oh, it feels so good, sister, your hole is wide open... wow, so much water, sister, is that your ass-slutty juice flowing out of your hole?" "Sister, you're such a super slutty ass, this slutty ass has been fucked by so many men, right?"... My pleasure couldn't help but surge, it was even more pleasurable than sometimes when we had sex. Just then, I heard him moan "Ahhh, so good!" I knew he had come. Sure enough, after hearing the sound of his zipper, his footsteps quickly faded away until I couldn't hear them anymore. I breathed a sigh of relief and wiped my wet vulva with a tissue. It was so shameful, I didn't expect so much to come out.

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Climax being spied on

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