The underground parking garage

You check to assure the coast is clear, then dart out of the laundry room, and over to the door into the parking garage. You crack that door open, and listen for footsteps on the concrete on the other side. Hearing none, you slip through the doorway, and quickly duck behind a nearby car, hiding yourself between it and the wall. Shortly after you duck into the shadows, a woman walks out of the door you just came through, and walks to her car, her high heels clicking on the concrete as she proceeds.

You remain, squatting and fingering yourself, as the woman gets into her car and departs. The garage is quiet, and you feel emboldened enough to get up from behind the car, and lay yourself down on it's hood. The cool metal of the hood feels marvelous against your back as you pleasure yourself. You feel dangerous, and naughty, and you like it.

You are startled out of your reverie when you hear the door into the apartment building opening behind you. You quickly slide off the hood, knowing that you are probably visible from the doorway, once the door is completely opened. You peer out from the shadows to see someone looking over in your general direction -- they probably heard a noise when you slid off the hood -- but after a long, tense moment, the man walks away from you, further into the parking garage, and gets into his car. You breathe a long sigh of relief for what seems like the tenth time tonight, and decide to find a better place to pleasure yourself.

You waddle down the line of cars, keeping yourself between the cars and the wall, and ducking out of sight whenever any cars, or people, enter the garage. You consider your options. You would kind of like to get into one of the cars, either an unlocked car, or perhaps a convertible, and pleasure yourself there. Another part of you wants to get yourself dirty, rolling around in the dirt and oil on the concrete floor. A third voice inside you suggests you exit the somewhat suffocating parking garage into the cool night air.