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Fantasy
This is a unproblematic story of a young man on a crowded train.

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Train ride

I get the power train every day to my study and back at the end of the day. I sit in silence, only ever speaking to the person next to me to ask them to move when I arrive at my stop and occasionally to buy a ticket for my journey. I mass watch and watch people looking at me, with hunch. My Asiatic appearing of bronzed skin, drab eyes and curly mordant byssus seem to pee-pee them untrusting. It amuses me that I am as innocent as they all are except perhaps in my rich darkest opinion.

I do get secrets, surreptitious lustfulness. I like to appear at the great unwashed and especially woman waiting for someone to sit in the carriage with whom I can turn my sentiment into illusion for the myopic amount of time that my train journey takes. And then I will remove my leave-taking and enter the toilet cubicle to masturbate over my thoughts. I am but eighteen myself and travelling home today to the empty flat where I live alone.

The train, as usual on this stock in vertex hours, is crammed, in the manner of a sard can. It is an evening like any other and as the stops arrive and go the great unwashed leave the caravan to go to their homes to resolve down for the winter Nox !

But tonight the train is overcrowded, the previous one being cancelled so I stand in the mass of masses my coat closed tightly around myself. someone pushes into my back as more multitude get on and I find myself in very fill up proximity to a gentlewoman. Her round buns encased only in a mean skirt is suddenly crushed up against my upper thigh as the mane of her hairsbreadth all but seals my nasal bone orifices. To say we are ‘ spoon'is no exaggeration. But this isn't uncomfortable in any way and I can palpate her soft blonde hair tickling my cheek. I inhale her scent.

Her coating like all the early rider is done tightly up but I can see from my vantage tip her curves look unbelievable even through the thick wintertime coat she is wearing. At one peak she glances around and looked up at me as if to excuse for her unladylike overcrowding of me. Our eyes sports meeting, mine trench brown and nighttime and hers viridity and shining like emeralds, all the more enhance by the dark mascara around them. Aside from being instantly attracted to her I simply pay thanks to the world for its generousness in selecting me to be her fellow standing commuter this day. So pretty is she and so sweet-smelling and with womanly torso, albeit wrapped as it is, in a thick winter coating. I almost feel I need these baggage racks to sustain my weakening legs.

Something less than a sexual predator I am certain I do not have an erecting, despite the provocative massage that her rear-end is unavoidably bequeathing me as a consequence of the swaying carriage. The sensation however of having her that up-close and personal is something I will remember. In all honesty I would be happy for it to never end. I just pray she lives at the end of the line or at the very least way past my station.

The playacting field alters dramatically when the train brakes unexpectedly coming into a station. Everyone is thrown forward with the inactivity. Instinctively I put my arm around the lady to keep her from falling. Just for a second she looks up at me. I look back our eyes meeting and I feel I might get caused law-breaking, until she mouths a"Thank you !"And she smiles, that beautiful smile. Through dismal pink full painter lips I now long to kiss ! I am now so wholly captivated it is only after we start picking up amphetamine again as we leave the station behind that I realise my arm is still around her.

Impulse is a howling thing. It lets you do things without having first to weigh up the effect. Standing probably no more than five-four in height the dog collar of her morose woolen coat presents itself fractionally below my Kuki almost hidden by the proliferation of what I would think is natural blonde soft Curl that fall delicately down to her shoulders. Perhaps I am intoxicated by her subtle perfume and feeling temporarily unhinged. I gently lean forward and nose her neck opening through all that tomentum. She smells angelic and I know I am holding her a fraction tighter. And now I suddenly realise that she knows it too. Coming to my weed I ease back but suddenly sense her push backwards with her organic structure against me, just enough to let me know that right now, on that caravan on this icy winter's night, I am supposed to be with her for whatever grounds and for however briefly. I know she is older than me which means that whilst I don't have much of a clue about life history, or at least real liveliness or family relationship, she does. This thought enlightens my senses and I smile aswell as feeling that familiar arousal down below.

Feeling her shifting her weight against me my ‘ nose'is upgraded to a soft kiss on the backrest of her neck opening feeling its effect on her immediately. She murmurs something, still with her back to me of line before raising her own arms which more or less clasp mine to her. I kiss her several time more monopolizing an orbit along her neck-line. I doubt anyone notices in the busy pusher and I don't caution if they do !

Completely without any arithmetic mean of reproof I slide my right paw inside her coat, no More than two or three buttons down. The warmth inside is considerable. My hand grows accustomed to the alien surroundings. I feel the sleek material of the garments inside the coat and I lift it up slightly. That is until I reach what I can only discover as an exceptionally indulgent to the full wall of flesh under the tight clothing. The weight of the flesh seems to be hanging down and preventing my manus was sliding further up until I am prepared to rise up over the fantastically shaped breast. Naively I merely cup the massive knoll experimentally. No one can possibly see anything untoward in this confined distance.

By now she is noticeably pushing back into me and making the slightest rather sweet little sounds as I grow more adventuresome beginning to fondle both heavy mounds. My finger's breadth feel the lacy undergarments through the silky stuff and trace around the hardening pith that seem to be responding so wonderfully to my teenage fingers. The occasional sigh from those beautiful replete pinko lips is now hearable, at least to me and fully determined I suppose to fight off further the boundaries of acceptable societal demeanour. I allow my fingers to inveigle their way between the release of her quite obviously thin silky blouse. She wriggles against me as I first encroach upon the bulwark of the forbidden city, feeling the warmth of her flesh against my thin hand. The slender of gasps emanates from her back talk as my finger's breadth finally breach the dike slipping inside that soft lacy defender and actually making contact with her full-of-the-moon fleshy chest itself, daring eventually to manipulate even what is probably a fully erect nipple.

Throughout this protracted engagement my back talk have maintain almost unbroken inter-group communication with this beautiful cleaning lady's neck. Had we not been wedged so securely between the seat compartments I doubt either of us could receive remained upright piano. Not that any of this is occupying my mentation processes right now as I have so much Sir Thomas More on my psyche. Between nuzzling her neck and fondling these massive warm breasts, there is piddling way left for deductive reasoning. Whether simply a case of my ‘ making hay while the sun shines ’, or the madam is impelled by forces outside of her control, it just seems to me that her body language is urging me onto even greater daring. Not by the verbalise Son of course - we have not exchanged so much as a ‘ hello ’, but simply the way she is pressing herself up against me.

Working undercover I tunnel south across the mild flat abdomen and down what appears to be a short pleated skirt. Reaching the hem I slip my hired man between the leg and immediately finger my way higher until I reach some remarkably quick arena. Never having felt up a girl or woman in this fashion I must be short in diplomacy although I do not hear any complaints from the lady. At the point I find my palm flush up against the apex of her slim shapely publicise legs and I sense a definite acquiescence. I am in no need of a training manual of arms to move my next motility. Pushing beneath the sash of her tight pantie the genius of parting her pubic curls is very very much to my liking and from the audible grammatical construction, hers too. I ca n't really severalize which of my fingers locates the very prize just a few inches lower.

Such hotness I have not encountered before. Probing her slit the good distance of that sexy piddling slit I soon discover that one field in specific seems to up the wriggling and sighing factor. Having little or no experience in the biological functionality of the vaginal cavern this is proving to be a work-experience program and I just know I am going to love this lesson from the offset. Multiple descents and ascents later I am now able-bodied to pinpoint that slightly salient nub with relaxation. It seems to me the more attention I bequeath it the better the owner responds.

This state of shared pleasure might have been perpetuated had I not noticed the womanhood's body tensing suddenly. Holding her tightly I undertake one final exam incursion which brings about a serial publication of body-shakes which in other portion might bear rated high on the Richter Scale. Clasping my hired man against her she feels like she is about to purr. I am aware that my fingers are suddenly a whole lot wet than they had been just instant before.

The wagon train begins to slow up up coming into the station and she delicately withdraws my paw from her scanty and just for a moment half-turns towards me. This is sufficient for me to notice the oceanic abyss flush resident in her buttock. I have determined that I would at the very least introduce myself, neither of us having uttered a alone word since boarding the train.

As the caravan pulled in I am about to give the conversation but to my everlasting miserableness she reaches up and retrieves a shopping bag from the rack beside me. Then she simply glances back at me with the odorous grinning on her beautiful face. Leaving me standing there completely heartbroken with my cock throbbing in my trouser and begging for release, she makes her way along with several other passenger to the open doorway. The last I see of her as the train gathers swiftness is her making her way along the crowded platform towards the exit.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

As the train passes her she turns and gives a gorgeous smile to me through the windowpane before raising a hand to her lips to blow a flaccid kiss to the bearded Asian stripling on the train .
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