Alison Boscombe was on security detail and it was her shift on the CCTV monitoring cameras of the underground car park at Heathrow airport. It was an easy job even if it was boring. But then, someone had to do it.

Occasionally she had to flick a few switches, zoom the cameras in and out, but other than that it was scan the monitors from top-left to bottom-right and then start all over again.

Having just come back from making a cup of tea, she noticed the activity on camera nine, first in from the right on row two was showing a disturbance between two people on a walkway that directly linked it to the departure lounge. Alison zoomed in to the activity and noticed a grey-haired gentleman who appeared to be shouting and arguing with his wife who was walking, no, staggering behind him as he tried to wheel two suitcases to the departure lounge. The woman behind him, dolled up to the nines, looked a little unsteady on her feet. At one point she staggered towards some cars almost crashing into them. She narrowly missed the red BMW that was parked in front of the camera and noticed the man inside look towards the woman. She only just missed the offside wing mirror of his car.

Alison alerted the ground crew of a potentially intoxicated woman on her way to departures through her security radio. She was about to zoom out and let the camera scan the wider area when the man in the car caught her eye as he reached forward to adjust the phone on the dashboard. She watched for a few more seconds to ascertain that he wasn’t casing the car park. She scanned some of the other monitors and came back to monitor nine.

She looked at the car and driver, tilted her head to one side and looked again. She opened her mouth and leaned forward in the hope of clarifying what she thought she was seeing. She then moved the camera into a slightly better position, facing the red BMW and zoomed in a little.

Her first assumption was correct; he was doing it, there in the car. Masturbating. Alison had determined that he was also looking at his phone, so, masturbating while watching pornography. Not that unusual, but in a car park, at Heathrow?

Her radio was in her hand and she was about to press the talk button to alert a nearby official when his cock appeared with his hand on it; one hand stroking his impressive length and the other rolling about on the crown of his cock after he had lubricated it with saliva.

She suddenly felt horny, her nipples hardened and wetness seeped into her knickers. She knew where it was from and she knew why. She always became horny when men masturbated in front of her. She loved the power play of them stroking their hard and erect cocks especially when her legs were wide apart with her fingers pleasuring her silky entrance or elegantly dancing over her clitoris or massaging her breasts. She loved it.

She released the talk button on the radio and looked around her. She got up and opened the door and made sure no one was around. She locked it. Dropped her knickers to the floor, sat back down on the chair and placed her Doc Marten’s boots on the desk while hiking up her skirt so that it fell around her waist. She glided her chair closer to the desk and opened her thighs wide.

She watched the monitor nine closely. His cock was huge, erect and stiff and she could see his excitement for whatever he was watching. She dipped her fingers into her cunt. It was wet enough and she didn’t need the foreplay, not now, not at this point; though her nipples ached from not being tweaked and her breasts ached for that all-important squeeze that she often gave them, but not now, not with his cock so hard and his hand pumping so fast. She dipped her fingers deep inside her before pulling them out to circle her clit. She knew how good that felt and it never disappointed; every time it felt nice.

She could see that he was close. She saw him mouth something at the phone. His posture changed, he pushed himself upright a little, lifted his bum off the seat, and she knew, Alison knew he was going to come.

She kept muttering to herself, “he’s gonna cum, he’s gonna cum.” Her fingers swirled like a tornado over her clitoris as she stared intently at the screen – the timing was important she told herself as she held her climax in check. Mouth open and panting hard, she watched his contorted face and then let her orgasm explode when the first ropes of cum shot from the end of his cock.

Alison let out a loud groan as she climaxed on her fingers, but once she was over that wall, she pushed them inside her and held her pussy tightly allowing her orgasm to wash through her. Her upper body was convulsing in unison to his ejaculations and that warm feeling felt wonderful.

She finally pulled her fingers from her cunt and licked them clean. She nodded with an air of sympathy for the man who had to clean up his car after that erotic workout.

She was surprised when he got out of the car and walked to the passenger side. She was surprised when he gave a woman a kiss on the cheek, his girlfriend? His wife? And she was surprised when the woman sat in the driver’s seat and scooped his spunk from the steering wheel before eating it.

Alison’s fingers once more dipped back into her pussy as she lifted her bum off the seat and moaned. That was her second most favourite thing to do.

This wasn’t finished yet!