Call his bluff

"My-" you start, but realize how loud you're speaking. You lean in to whisper back, "my pussy isn't hanging out; I'm wearing shorts!" you say matter-of-factly, nodding toward them for emphasis.

He grins, holding out the bag of goods he has in his hand. "Take this and hold it in front of yourself," he says -- it's less a request, and more a demand. You take the bag from him and hold it by the handle with both hands.

No sooner have you done so, he lets go of it and turns to face away from the shops, leaving you facing opposite directions. He shifts closer, and you soon feel his hand against your upper thigh. It moves closer to your crotch, as though seeking a target. Within a second, you feel his fingers tracing your labia, clearly without a single scrap of fabric between them and his hand. Moreover, you can tell just how drenched you are by the slickness of the touch. Before you can react, he's sinking one of his digits into your folds. It's certainly not as thick as either of the cocks you've taken up there, but the sensation still feels exquisite in your condition. You sigh, closing your eyes.

Not long after his finger all the way inside you, it was back outside. He raised his hand to his face and stuck the finger into his mouth, sucking it dry. "You taste delicious," he says. "I know a place a little bit more... private." He shoots you a grin before adding, "but not too private."