Alison Pt. 01

Alison 1 – Inconvenience

Edited by Angel Love. Angel is reliable, knowledgeable, helpful and a very quick editor. Thank you Angel, without your help and support this probably wouldn't be appearing.

Chapter One - Seeking

Having spent most of the afternoon window shopping in the town precinct, Alison decided to brave the chill and make her way home. It wasn't long before she regretted not visiting the ladies' toilet as the cold only served to remind her of not having had a pee since before lunchtime. Fortunately, her walk home would take her across the local park, which had a ladies' loo.

Alison felt the stirrings of an urge the moment she thought about pulling down her panties and lifting her skirt, even though it was only for a bodily function. Her body was developing well, still slim with no puppy fat, breasts and bum firm, nipples pointing up rather than some of her school friends which drooped somewhat already. Her shoulder length blonde hair was natural, as evidenced by the sparse (though well-trimmed) patch of hair covering her pussy. Sex was never far from her mind, and she was longing for the day when she could see a naked man, although her main curiosity was the bit that was different.

She picked up the pace a little; trying to get to the toilet as the ache was becoming uncomfortable. As she turned into the park, and spotted the building her heart sank as she saw the ladies' was shut, and felt even more desperate. Looking around for some bushes she was disappointed to find the park keeper had trimmed them already for the winter, and there was no cover to be had. As she hurried around the brick building, she noticed that the gents' were still open, and furtively looking around to see if the coast was clear, she dodged inside.

Noticing that part of one wall seemed to be porcelain, and that the two cubicles were empty, she darted into the first one and shut and locked the door. Pulling down her panties, she lifted her skirt and sighed with relief as the painful pressure slipped away. Her eyes became accustomed to the gloom as she wiped herself dry, and as she stood to pull up her panties and make herself decent she noticed all the graffiti on the walls and door. Apparently, some of these men had sex with each other, arranging to meet either here or actually do it here. There was something about a BJ, which she was still trying to figure out, when she heard footsteps approaching and the door to the next cubicle closing. After a rustle of clothing it all went quiet.

Alison found the silence intimidating, and was trying to decide whether to run, sneak out, or stay put until the coast was clear. Her indecision was to change her life.

As the man next to her had closed his door, she noticed some movement on the adjoining wall, where a crumpled piece of toilet paper had fallen off and was now lying on the floor. While still trying to decide what to do next, she noticed the small hole, at waist height, about the size of a penny, in the wall. Intrigued by what could be seen, she dipped her head to look through. As her eye took in the limited view, she noticed a thigh, then the other, and realised she could see the man sitting there. Trying to see more, she turned her head a bit further, and could see some movement, but couldn't make it out. Just the sight of naked thighs was enough to send her pulse racing, and how close she was to the real thing. She wondered what the hole was for. Her head started to ache a little, so she drew back her head and after a few seconds, looked again. She could barely contain a gasp of fear when she saw an eye looking right back at her. She immediately panicked, believing that she would be in big trouble if caught, opened the door and ran out.

A few minutes later, as her breathing steadied, she sat on a park bench and watched the toilets, to see if the man would come out. She had already decided that she had gotten away with it, no one would believe that it was her in the gents', looking through a hole, and she had already checked to see that nobody saw her coming out. Ten minutes later, she was beginning to kick herself for panicking, as the man was also guilty of looking through, and if she had stayed perhaps she would see something interesting. It occurred to her that she could actually go back in, and start again, but was afraid that the man would catch her, as she entered. She vowed to try again later, perhaps another day, when the coast was clear.

The following day found Alison sitting on the same bench, watching the same place. She had dressed in loose fitting trousers and jumper, and wore a cap under which her hair was pulled up. She had decided to go in again, and this time, to look more like a man, in case she was seen from a distance. This time she would be prepared, and would keep her eye glued to the hole, so that anyone looking would think it blocked with paper. Pleased with her plan, she was waiting until it was clear, and had already had two false starts when men had gone in. Her mind was working overtime, imagining all the things that she might see, or that might happen, and the excitement, fear and anticipation were turning her insides over.

Finally she judged it safe to enter, and did so, choosing this time the other cubicle. As soon as she was safely in, she began reading the graffiti again, though her attention was soon taken by a crude drawing of man kneeling behind a kneeling woman. The strange thing was, although she knew the woman was a woman (she was wearing stockings), she also seemed to have a penis. Odd. Still, perhaps the artist had been jogged or something.

A short while later footsteps approached again, and she ducked down to the hole in readiness. The man who entered seemed to know nothing about the hole, as he stood right by it dropping his trousers and pants, and there for the first time was her first view of a real live prick. Alison was torn between excitement and disappointment, it was her first view, she could actually see one now, but it didn't seem to amount to much, and she wondered what all the fuss was about.

Suddenly, the man stepped away, and just as she was about to rest her eye, his eye appeared at the hole. It blinked a few times, then he stood again and began to stroke his thing slowly. As Alison's breath caught, it began to get bigger, and rise until it was horizontal, and then higher.

The man's eye appeared again briefly, before she saw his hand, rising and falling three or four times. Then he looked again, repeated the action, more urgently, and looked one more. It finally dawned on her what he was doing, "He wants me to stand up and show him mine!" She thought. Once again, she panicked and dashed out for the safety of the park bench, where she could innocently observe.

A few minutes later, the man came out, looked around and walked off.

"I've seen your thing," Alison smiled to herself as he walked away, "and you don't even know." A warm glow spread through her thighs as the excitement of her success grew.

Over the course of the next week, Alison saw several more, never being caught herself. Realising that she had picked the nearest toilet to her home, and that if she was discovered, it may be by someone she knew, she decided to try further afield.

She found one place with three cubicles, and enjoyed seeing two at the same time from her vantage point in the centre one, with a hole in each wall. This though was a little frightening, as either of them, she realised, could see her watching the other.

Several weeks later, she had become bored with just looking, and had felt the rush of showing herself. The first time she simply pulled down her trousers and panties, stood in front of the hole for a few seconds, then ran out as quickly as possible. It was the third time she did this, that her secret was discovered.

Chapter Two – Lost and Found

At the age of 60 Stan had given up hope of sex with another woman. He still felt the urge, but since his wife passed away several years ago, he had no one to share it with. He took care of himself when the urge was too strong, or he couldn't sleep.

As he entered the toilet not far from his home, he noticed the door to one of the cubicles was already shut. "Maybe there'll be a magazine left," he thought, hopefully. Quite often he found one that the previous owner didn't want anymore, and it was better than the embarrassment of an old man buying one, cheaper too. As he shut the door, he heard a rustling from next door, and could almost picture someone bending down for a look.

"No good looking at me," he thought, "I'll just put you off." He knew that sometimes other men played with each other in here and other such places, but took no notice as he considered himself safe from them. They were only interested in other young men, or what they could find in magazines.

After a minute or so, his curiosity got the better of him, and he bent forward to have a look himself. He was just in time to see the other person look away, and got an impression of blonde eyebrows and a pale blue cap. He kept looking for a few seconds, and got the same impression when the watching eye returned. "Brown eyes, blonde hair. Unusual." He thought, and was about to look away when the other person stood, pulled down their trousers and posed in front of the hole. "Now that is a young girl if I'm not mistaken," he thought with a smile, "and damn pretty she looks from here as well."

Suddenly the door to the next cubicle opened, and he heard light footsteps leave the toilet. He rose and went to leave himself when he thought to himself, "I'll just have a look to see if she's left anything next door." When he looked, he got quite a nice surprise.

Alison had heard the other man come in, and got bored with waiting for him to show. She decided to give him a quick flash the first time he looked before catching the bus home. She watched on tenterhooks, and as soon as she saw movement she sat back and undid the waistband on her jogging trousers. With one last look to be sure he was still watching, she stood up, pulled them down to her knees, pulled them up again, and dashed out, her trainers making very little noise.

It wasn't until she stepped on the bus that she realized her wallet was missing.

A bolt of fear passed right through her slim body, and as her face drained of color she realized what must have happened. Muttering apologies to the bus driver, she retraced her footsteps to the toilet in the hope that she had dropped it on the way. She was so intent on scouring the pavement she almost bumped into someone. Muttering more apologies, she continued searching, all the way to the toilet entrance. No such luck. As she searched around the doorway not wanting to step inside yet, she knew she would just have to go inside and retrieve it.

"Just let it be there," she prayed to herself. "Just let it be there and I won't do this ever again. Such a stupid, wrong thing to do, no wonder this happened. It's a sign that it's wrong. I've been warned now. I'll go in there, get my wallet and it'll be all over," she thought to herself. With shallow breath and legs trembling she stepped inside.

There was no one in sight as she crept in. "Thank goodness for that!" she thought to herself with a sigh, "at least I can get it and go."

As she approached the far cubicle where a few minutes ago, she was already thinking about the next time. All the more reason for her shock when she turned to enter the cubicle and . . . found it empty. No wallet! "OhmyGodwhatdoidonow," she thought, realizing that she must have left it somewhere else and would have a long walk home.

She searched high and low, but was aware of time passing. If a man came in, she could hardly say she was looking for her wallet. They'd lock her up and throw away the key to the padded cell. It had her money, front door key, name and address . . . "That's it," she thought. "Name and address, I'll tell the police, and they'll let me know if it's handed in. Until then, I've got to get home." Stepping outside, she again began a search of the entrance, in case it just fell out of her pocket as she left.

After Stan had picked up the wallet, the first thing he did was dash outside to look for the girl. "It's probably hers," he thought. "Don't get many girls in that place." But she was nowhere to be seen. Then he looked inside to see if there was any identification. He found the name and address, and decided to hand it in. "Poor thing will probably be mortified when she realizes what's happened. Damn lucky, really," he thought. "Anybody could have picked it up. Such a silly thing to do, nice as it was, just silly."

He smiled to himself as he thought, "Needs a damn good spanking, that one."

As he started to make his way home, he kept an eye out for a young girl: blonde, wearing a pale blue cap and light green trousers. "Possibly plimsolls," he thought, scanning the street ahead.

As he started to walk home, his imagination started playing scenes of light green trousers and panties round slim, dimpled knees, and a lovely pale naked bottom, thrust out, trembling in anticipation of a spanking, with a pretty blonde face, under a pale blue cap, looking back over her shoulder, beseechingly.

In his increasingly exciting daydream, he almost bumped into someone, and she had the most alluring brown eyes.

Physical contact with the object of his daydream left Stan utterly speechless. He tried to fumble for Alison's wallet in his pocket, and call to her as she moved on, eyes downcast, but just couldn't get a word out. As he finally recovered himself, a thought crossed his mind, "I've seen your little thing," he smiled, "and you don't even know it."

Stan decided to follow the pretty young girl, and hand back the wallet. As he did, visions of her gratitude passed through his mind, as well as visions of her accusing him of being an old pervert. He decided to tread a little more carefully.

As Alison was about to give up the search, she heard a voice asking, "Have you lost something?" She looked up to see an older man, rather tall, slightly greying hair, with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

She quickly realized that she was no longer inside the toilet, so replied, "Umm, yes, I've lost my wallet. Around here somewhere."

"Oh dear," said Stan "That can be a real nuisance can't it? I lost my wallet once, and the trouble I had to go too . . . " he stopped aware that he was about to ramble.

"Do you live round here?" he asked

She looked at him questioningly, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no. Sorry," he smiled at her, opening his arms a little. "It's just that I do, and I haven't seen you around before. And I thought if you've lost your wallet, how will you get home, that sort of thing. Sorry if I worried you there, it's just . . . "

"No, it's me who should be sorry," she replied, warming to the man. "It's just that I've had quite a shock."

"Well, look, umm, there's a café across the road," said Stan, softly, leaning a little in that direction. "Come and have a coffee with me, and we'll see what can be done to help you. I'm sure we'll think of something."

As Alison soon discovered her search was in vain, she agreed, already beginning to warm to this kindly man.

As they sat down to coffee and biscuits, Alison turning down the offer of a biscuit, and Stan saying, "Surely such a gorgeous young thing as you isn't on a diet."

Alison saying how kind he was, and Stan replying with, "What else is a gentleman to do when confronted by a maiden in distress?"

They were soon laughing together and Alison began to relax. They introduced each other, and Stan asked her what brought her to this part of the world.

"Oh," Alison replied, averting his eyes, "I came to see a friend, and she was out. A bit of a wasted journey, really."

"Not very nice of her," replied Stan, knowing the lie before it was complete, but just tagging along for the ride. "Fancy letting you come all this way and not being there."

"Oh, she didn't um, know," stammered Alison, backpedalling furiously in her mind. "It was a surprise, sort of. You see it's her birthday and um . . . " she noticed Stan looking into her eyes, almost as if he wasn't listening, almost as if he knew. She stopped in mid sentence, and with a nervous gulp, suspecting the worst, she said, "Stan, what is it, why are you looking at me like that?"

"I just noticed, and was captivated, by your beautiful eyes," he replied softly, smiling. "Anyway, you were telling me about your friend's, birthday was it?"

Alison spun him a story about her friend being off school, unwell, and needing to catch up on homework. Stan noticed the absence of books, but said nothing.

"Anyway," said Alison with a sigh (which, Stan noticed, lifted her breasts beautifully), "This won't get me home. I wish I knew what happened to my wallet."

Stan had already decided the next step. "I'll tell you what," he said, his face lighting up, "how about I go and see if the wallet has been kicked into the toilets by mistake, you never know, it might be worth a look."

"No, I've, I mean it's not . . . um . . . no use really," she stammered out again, "I expect if anyone found it they've kept it."

"Well, it's just across the road," he said, rising, "and if it's not there I can lend you the fare home. I expect you'll come and visit your friend soon anyway."

They crossed the road, and Alison waited outside while Stan went into the toilet to see what he could find. When he came out, a minute later, he looked at her enquiringly, "Alison Whiteley?"

"Yes?" she answered, guiltily.

He quoted her address and when she confirmed it he handed her the wallet. "OH My!" she gasped, putting one hand to her mouth, and the other, instinctively, to cover her sex, "Where, how, but, when, where was it?" she blurted, her heart racing.

"It was in one of the cubicles," he explained, handing it to her. "Behind one of the seats."

He was delighted with the way she had instinctively covered herself, even fully clothed, she was a treasure. "I've no idea how it got there," he said looking at it, "Perhaps someone found it on the ground and hid it there." He looked into her eyes again, "Is it, um, intact?"

"What? Oh, um . . . " she opened it. "Yes," she replied, still catching her breath. Then looking up at him and meeting his eyes, she said softly, "Yes, it's intact."

Well, that appears to be that then," said Stan, wistfully. "I'll tell you what," he offered, handing her a piece of paper. "Now that I know your name and address, here's my address and telephone number. As we enjoyed such a nice cup tea, perhaps we could do it again. Perhaps next time you come, to visit your friend I mean?"

Alison was getting the inkling of a cunning plan here. She looked at him with a smile that was slowly widening, and said, "I would love to come with you, for you, to um visit with you I mean." As her face reddened, he took her arm, and walked her to the bus stop.

Chapter Three – Discovered

Two days later, Alison was again looking through holes in the wall, and felt comfortable enough to start playing with herself while waiting for the next man. She had discovered that by simply staying put the other person left eventually, and she could choose to either satisfy herself in secret, or show herself and flee. Over the next two weeks she fell in to a pattern of this, only showing herself to what were obviously elderly men, this feeling safer and more secure. She hadn't been to the place where she met Stan, and decided to go there for a change, and perhaps pay him a visit if the pickings were slim.

Dressed as usual in a loose jumper and trousers, trainers and hat, she went into the gents' where she lost her wallet when she felt the coast was clear. Quickly making herself comfortable, she pulled down her trousers and panties, and began to rub herself as she thought of the sights she would see. After two men had been in, seen, and out, she was very wet and excited. They were both erect, and seemed happy to let her look as they rubbed themselves, but weren't old enough for Alison to feel comfortable letting them see her pussy. It was just as she was deciding to go and visit Stan that an elderly man came in next door.