The Waner Watched

This experience happened only a couple of years ago. I was travelling to Stornoway to visit a friend and was staying the night in Ullapool. I had planned to catch the early morning ferry as a foot passenger the next day, leaving my car in Ullapool.

I had arrived quite early in the afternoon and it was a glorious day, too good to just sit in the hotel. I decided to take a walk in the hills above the town. But what to wear? The weather had caught me out completely. I had only brought heavy kilts with me as the weather up there is usually grim and, when I had packed in southern England, a week before, there had been no indication on the forecast that it would be so warm.

I was wearing my old Colquhoun tartan kilt which was one of the lightest weight ones I had with me. I had a pair of thin green trews as underwear but they were still too hot! I did consider taking off the trews and wearing just the kilt with nothing underneath but then, I thought, why not reverse it, take off the kilt and just wear my trews? But the plain green trews I had on were very short and skimpy and looked too much like underwear.

What if I wore my tartan trews? They would look like regular tartan shorts, not underwear at all. I pulled on the trews then put on my hiking boots in place of the brogues that I had been wearing. I had no short socks with me so should I wear the kilt hose up as usual, or down by the ankles? I looked in the mirror and it didnt look right with all that sock bunched up down on the ankle so I pulled them up again. They still had the red flashes and I thought that they added rather than detracted from the overall look. It felt quite sexy to be dressed this way with kilt underwear as an outer garment.

So I strode out. Quite a few glances in the hotel lobby as you can imagine but I didn't mind. There was no need to go through the village, only past a few houses, since the hotel was on the edge of the village very near the hill path.

It was steep but I managed to climb quite quickly and was soon rewarded with an excellent view across the loch. There were only a few other people on the path, one or two walking dogs, a couple on their own, and that was it. Most gave a double take at my tartan shorts but wished me Good Day as we passed. As I climbed higher there was nobody else and I thought that I had left the walkers behind.

Before I left the hotel I had had a thought -- why not have a wank out in the open air? Which is why I had taken a little tube of KY with me Here I was in a deserted area and beginning to feel sexy at the thought of what I was going to do.

I had not brought myself off for a couple of days so there was a growing pressure down there. In the previous days I had felt too tired after all the driving then after a good dinner with drinks the urge had left me. At the thought of how exactly I might pleasure myself, I began to feel rising excitement with a hardon growing down the leg of my trews. The forward, backward movement of my thigh inside the tartan leg, as I walked, actually felt very good as my cock was being alternately squeezed and released. I looked down and was gratified to see a good bulge forming.

I looked round, nobody about, either ahead of me, or behind me, on the path . I took a little rub at my bulge. Yes, it was growing nicely! I had that nice feeling in my tummy when I start to feel sexy. I continued to rub.

Then I sensed that I was being watched. You know how you get that feeling sometimes? But there was nobody around.

Then I saw him, high above me in the heather. He blended well with the background. He had binoculars! And they were trained on me!! He was probably a bird watcher, I thought, hence blending in so well with the background.

I was very embarrassed at having been caught and turned away. I quickly lost my erection as I moved on. I walked for a few hundred yards and then round the next corner of the path. At least I was out of sight of my birdwatcher! I scanned the hill above me very carefully this time and there was nobody around. I had just started to raise myself again when I saw a movement on the ridge I had passed when I had turned the corner on the path.

It was him again! He settled down with his binoculars trained on me. He was a lot closer this time and his binoculars looked heavy and powerful. He must have been able to see everything in considerable detail.

I had previously been embarrassed at being caught by him watching me unexpectedly but now he had made a deliberate move to look at me made it all totally different.

"Well, if that's the way you want it!" I said to myself.

I turned to face him full on and started rubbing the bulge in my trews. His glasses didn't waver. I normally keep my penis hanging down the left leg of my trews and, as it grows, I like to feel the pressure against the tartan material as it tries to come upright. If I am wearing shortish loose trews like the Colquhoun ones I had on then, I can get the glans to appear out of the leg opening. This I did, looking straight at him, or rather at his glasses, since they hid most of his face. I was beginning to enjoy having an audience for my wank.

Then I undid the fly, felt around inside the trews, and lifted my penis out. I felt around some more and pulled the balls out too. I was wearing a cock ring behind my balls which makes me feel sexier. So there was all my sex on full view, sticking out of the front of my trews. I was otherwise fully dressed, hiking boots, kilts hose, with flashes, tartan shorts, and a dark green polo top. So all quite modest except for this nice contrast of bare sex parts sticking out..

I must have looked a sight -- an elderly gent in tartan kilt underwear masturbating himself on a deserted path on the hillside. A bit sad, with nobody to do it with, but at least I had an interested audience. I wished that I could have seen his expression.

The glasses hadn't even wavered! He was still looking as I got out my little tube of KY and began the gentle business of bringing my penis to full erection. It was already big, but only half hard, sticking out, rather than the curving up aspect when I reach a full hardon.

Well, I soon brought myself off, very satisfactorily, spurting semen into the heather. There was quite a lot of it after my abstinence for a few days. It was a great feeling as the orgasm took over with the involuntary pulsing of the muscles as they drained my spunk..

Afterwards I felt shattered, especially doing it standing up. I think it is more tiring that way.

When I eventually looked up, my birdwatching friend had disappeared. Just as well, I thought!. I wouldn't really have wanted to meet him face to face after that!!