The High Line is a lovely park in NYC made from an old elevated railway. There is one part which entails bleacher seating that looks down through the empty frame of where an old billboard used to be. The effect is like that of a movie theatre where the “screen” is a window into the street below.
While strolling with the lovely Anais Dream, knowing her delight in… not so much exhibitionism, but the thrill of getting caught, I found this spot to be a jackpot. Throngs of people relaxed on the bleacher benches, while people busily went about their day on the street below. I led her down to that big, wide window. To my delight, a thick girder provided a visual obstacle between the audience and the window.
I ushered her little frame behind the thick metal girder, and marveled aloud about all the people above, and people below. I let her ponder all those nearby eyeballs while my hands wandered, exposing her skin just beyond the view of the audience, and (perhaps) beyond the notice of the drivers and pedestrians on the street below. My hands brought various sensations to her flesh while she wriggled. Dozens of people could see that we were there, but not exactly what we were doing. As for the street below, it was possible to see, at more of a distance, but no one seemed to take notice.
It seemed that her pulse quickened pleasantly. I certainly enjoyed that very public-but-inconspicuous spot.
[panel text=”What are your thoughts on such exhibitionism, or simply ‘the fear of getting caught’?”]