Today I left my zipper wide open at a dentist appointment on purpose for the s***** thrill. I knew I’d only be seeing my female dental hygienist and not my male dentist so I planned this all out in advanced and worked my nerves up in my car before walking inside. I folded the flap that shows behind the zipper the other way so that nothing was covering my boxers and pulled both sides of the zipper far apart– its pretty long so quite a bit could be seen. I’ve done this before; in class, at the store, all so I can see women ogle or wince or cruelly chuckle to themselves or uncomfortably avert their eyes. This experience was by far the most arousing one I’ve had.
I entered the waiting room with my fly gaping and, to my great satisfaction, saw only one girl around my age in the chairs. I checked in with the receptionist, who’s desk was too high for her to notice my crotch, grabbed a magazine, and took a seat across from the girl. The magazine is a great way to block my view and look convincingly oblivious– naturally its a tool I’ve used many times before. The girl took interest, initially, though she had a slight look of disgust across her face. For most of my wait she averted her gaze (although I occupied myself with the magazine so its possible she took some indecent photos with the phone in her hands.) We remained that way until my hygienist opened the door to call on me.
She noticed immediately and, in an instance of slight panic I suppose, went wide eyed at the catastrophe that was my gaping zipper. I acted casual and let her lead me back to her room, distracting me with some typically inane conversation so she could sneak glances back at me. The poor woman seemed utterly conflicted and positively uncomfortable– definitely too nervous to notify me about my ‘unfortunate’ situation.
In her room she shuffled around her tools and delayed leaning me back in the chair with the ‘I’m missing one of my instruments’ excuse. She walked away to another room, probably hoping that in her absence I’d notice my crotch and spare her the daunting task of notifying me. Unlucky for her I was staging this whole scenario, and it gave me some time to make my open fly truly pathetic: zipper handle protruding outward, sides gaping, shorts hiked some to enhance the effect and make everything taut against my bulge. I’m a bit of an artist with this stuff. My hygienist came back to that very view, believing me to be utterly clueless. She audibly sighed and, rather grimly, leaned my chair back, reclining me to my embarrassing fate.
My hygienist perked up a little after that. At first she seemed determined to ignore my fashion faux pas, but in a very short amount of time she grew emboldened by my vulnerability and regularly stared at my crotch for long intervals. She would c*** her head whenever intensely studying my crotch and couldn’t help but let a coy smile spread across her face. The teeth cleaning would last an hour, and it seemed incredibly arousing (or at least amusing) for the both of us all throughout. She’s a mother in her 40’s and by no means unattractive: brunette, shapely, and fertile in all the right ways, and, if her reaction to my inappropriate exposure is any indication, she’s a bit frisky too. Her eyes beamed when she smiled and she had that knowing look of someone relishing a secret jape.
At one point, a coworker of hers peeked her head through the doorway and curtly whispered my hygienists name to call her over for a private conversation. They excitedly whispered to each other just outside, trying poorly to conceal hysterical laughter at one point, and I heard my hygienist coyly “shhh” her coworker before coming back to me with a devilish grin. “Office gossip” she explained. I acted uninterested and let her continue her work.
Naturally after that I struggled to ward off my erection, and felt it start to rise in full force. My hygienist noticed too, eyes darting between my mouth and my crotch all throughout the process. I imagine women in their profession see more than their fair share of involuntary erections, though surely none like this. At this point I was afraid my c*** would penetrate my buttonless boxer fly and possibly get me into some real trouble. But everything remained in place, apart from the towering mass of boxer fabric protruding from my gaping fly. That is, until I began to uncontrollably throb. I could feel my taut boxer fly begin to spread and slip off my d*** with every pulse. I tried desperately to calm myself down–it was hard with how hypnotized my hygienist seemed to be by my c***, however. It hadn’t made a full escape yet, but from the cool ac caressing part of my hyper-sensitive tip, I could tell that at least some skin was visible. My hygienist didn’t even try to conceal the satisfied smile spread across her face. She casually rambled about whatever dental hygienists talk about during their one-sided conversations, though it seemed like she was talking to my crotch more than my face. Internally I was a hot mess. The slightest leg adjustment could result in my d*** slipping out and going on full display under the florescent light. Somehow I managed to calm myself down, and felt everything gradually return to its place. My c*** involuntarily stiffened several times after that, but it never reached those levels again.
As we neared the end of my cleaning, she became noticeably nervous– probably worrying I would notice once I became upright and get upset. She delayed quite a while before reluctantly bringing my seat up. I began to regale her with the many public errands I planned on doing after I left the dentist, trying to shame her into telling me. She was firm in her silence, though obviously distressed at the embarrassing fate she thought she was sealing me to. The poor lady even tried distracting me with my dentist goody bag so I wouldn’t glance down and notice my open zipper. Then she hurried me to the waiting room so I could leave, looking painfully guilty as I opened the door and exposed my gaping fly to an old woman and that same girl from the start. I confidently thanked her, wished her a good day, and walked out.
Like I said, that was perhaps the greatest experience I’ve ever had with this hobby. It’s also a case-in-point just how reluctant some people can be about telling you you’re fly is down. I can’t imagine myself ever admitting to this outside of an anonymous forum, but I definitely encourage you to try for yourself. Especially if you’re a girl hoping to put on a show for the men around you!