Express Service ( 0 )
FantasyThis is a simple chronicle of a young man on a crowded train.
feel free to annotate on my stories and all input, both convinced and negative are welcome. Or feel free to e-mail me scuttlebutt or opinion or ideas about stories on picturepainter123 @ yahoo.co.uk.
gear ride
I get the gearing every day to my work and back at the end of the day. I sit in secrecy, only ever speaking to the someone next to me to ask them to move when I arrive at my stop and occasionally to buy a ticket for my journey. I people watch and watch citizenry looking at me, with hunch. My Asian show of tan cutis, night eyes and curly shameful byssus seem to cook them wary. It amuses me that I am as innocent as they all are except perhaps in my deepest darkest thoughts.
I do have arcanum, occult lusts. I like to look at people and especially fair sex waiting for someone to sit in the carriage with whom I can turn my sentiment into fantasy for the curtly amount of time that my train journey takes. And then I will take my farewell and enter the toilet cubicle to wank over my opinion. I am but eighteen myself and travelling home today to the void flat where I live alone.
The train, as usual on this line in bill hours, is crammed, in the personal manner of a sardine can. It is an evening like any early and as the stops come and go people leave the train to go to their base to get back down for the Winter night !
But tonight the train is overcrowded, the former one being cancelled so I stand in the mass of people my pelage closed tightly around myself. Someone pushes into my back as to a greater extent people get on and I find myself in very close propinquity to a lady. Her round stern encased only in a tight skirt is suddenly crushed up against my upper thighs as the mane of her hair all but seals my nasal orifice. To say we are ‘ spooned'is no magnification. But this isn't uncomfortable in any way and I can finger her indulgent blond hair tickling my cheek. I inhale her perfume.
Her coat like all the former rider is done tightly up but I can see from my advantage point her curves look incredible even through the thick wintertime coat she is wearing. At one point she glances around and looked up at me as if to justify for her unladylike overcrowding of me. Our center meet, mine recondite brown and nighttime and hers green and shining like emeralds, all the more enhanced by the night mascara around them. Aside from being instantly attracted to her I simply give 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 midst winter pelage. I almost feel I need these luggage single-foot to support my weakening legs.
Something to a lesser extent than a sexual predator I am sure I do not bear an erection, despite the provocative massage that her rear-end is unavoidably bequeathing me as a result of the swaying carriage. The aesthesis however of having her that up-close and personal is something I will recall. In all honestness I would be happy for it to never end. I just pray she lives at the end of the personal credit line or at the very least way past my place.
The playing field of operations alters dramatically when the caravan bracken unexpectedly coming into a station. Everyone is thrown forward with the inertia. Instinctively I put my arm around the lady to prevent her from falling. Just for a second she looks up at me. I look back our eyes coming together and I feel I might have caused offence, until she mouths a"Thank you !"And she smiles, that beautiful grin. Through glowering pink full painter lips I now long to osculate ! I am now so wholly captivated it is only after we start picking up speed again as we leave the station behind that I realise my arm is still around her.
Impulse is a wonderful matter. It lets you do things without having first to weigh up the aftermath. Standing probably no more than five-four in meridian the collar of her saturnine woollen coating nowadays itself fractionally below my Kuki-Chin almost hidden by the proliferation of what I would reckon is natural blond soft Curl that fall delicately down to her shoulders. Perhaps I am intoxicated by her pernicious aroma and feeling temporarily unhinged. I gently lean forward and nuzzle her neck through all that hair. 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 senses I ease back but suddenly experience her push backwards with her body against me, just enough to let me know that right now, on that train on this icy wintertime's Night, I am supposed to be with her for whatever rationality and for however briefly. I know she is erstwhile than me which means that whilst I don't have much of a clue about life, or at least real living or relationships, she does. This thinking enlightens my sensation and I smile aswell as look that familiar arousal down below.
tone her shifting her weight against me my ‘ draw close'is upgraded to a easy kiss on the back of her neck feeling its result on her immediately. She murmurs something, still with her cover to me of row before raising her own subdivision which more or less clasp mine to her. I kiss her several times more monopolizing an orbit along her neck-line. I doubt anyone bill in the busy carriage and I don't concern if they do !
Completely without any first moment of rebuke I slide my veracious hand inside her coat, no Sir Thomas More than two or three buttons down. The warmth inside is considerable. My deal grows accustomed to the unknown surroundings. I feel the silky textile of the garments inside the coat and I lift it up slightly. That is until I reach what I can only describe as an exceptionally soft full rampart of anatomy under the tight wearable. The weightiness of the pulp seems to be hanging down and preventing my hand was sliding further up until I am prepared to rise up over the fantastically shaped breast. Naively I merely cup the massive mound experimentally. No one can possibly see anything untoward in this confined space.
By now she is noticeably pushing back into me and making the slightest rather scented trivial sounds as I grow more adventurous beginning to fondle both intemperate hillock. My digit feel the lacy unmentionable through the silklike material and shadow around the curing nubble that seem to be responding so wonderfully to my teenage digit. The periodic sigh from those beautiful full pink lips is now audible, at least to me and fully determined I suppose to repel further the boundaries of acceptable sociable behavior. I allow my digit to inveigle their way between the buttons of her quite obviously thin silky blouse. She wriggles against me as I first encroach upon the rampart of the foreclose urban center, feeling the fondness of her flesh against my slim down hand. The slightest of gasps emanates from her lips as my fingerbreadth finally breach the butch slipping inside that voiced lacy protector and actually making middleman with her full fleshy breast itself, daring eventually to manipulate even what is probably a fully vertical nipple.
Throughout this protracted engagement my lips have maintain almost unbroken inter-group communication with this beautiful woman's neck. Had we not been wedged so securely between the butt compartments I doubt either of us could have remained upright piano. Not that any of this is occupying my thinking processes right now as I have so much more on my head. Between nuzzling her neck and fondling these monolithic warm breasts, there is picayune way left for deductive reasoning. Whether simply a display case of my ‘ making hay while the sun radiance ’, or the gentlewoman is impelled by personnel outside of her ascendence, it just seems to me that her body language is urging me onto even slap-up daring. Not by the spoken word of trend - 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 soft flat venter and down what appears to be a myopic pleated bird. Reaching the hem I slip my hand between the ramification and immediately sense my way higher until I reach some remarkably quick areas. Never having felt up a girl or cleaning lady in this style I must be short in discreetness although I do not hear any complaints from the gentlewoman. At the full stop I find my palm flush up against the peak of her slim shapely bare legs and I sense a definite acquiescence. I am in no need of a grooming manual to prompt my following move. Pushing beneath the waistband of her rigorous panties the superstar of parting her pubic curls is very much to my liking and from the hearable expression, hers too. I ca n't really tell which of my fingers locates the veridical prize just a few column inch lower.
Such heating I have not encountered before. Probing her pussycat the full duration of that sexy lilliputian incision I soon discover that one country in particular 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 platform and I just know I am going to enjoy this moral from the first. Multiple decline and rising later I am now able-bodied to pinpoint that slightly prominent nub with repose. It seems to me the more attending I bequeath it the better the owner responds.
This State Department of divvy up pleasure might have been perpetuated had I not noticed the charwoman's consistence tensing suddenly. Holding her tightly I undertake one terminal incursion which brings about a series of body-shakes which in other circumstances might give birth rated high on the Richter Scale. Clasping my hand against her she feels like she is about to purr. I am cognizant that my finger are suddenly a solid lot soused than they had been just moments before.
The gearing begins to slow up up coming into the place and she delicately withdraws my script from her panties and just for a moment half-turns towards me. This is sufficient for me to notice the deep flush resident in her cheeks. I have determined that I would at the very least insert myself, neither of us having uttered a solitary Holy Writ since boarding the train.
As the string pulled in I am about to open the conversation but to my everlasting misery she reaches up and retrieves a shopping bag from the single-foot beside me. Then she simply glances back at me with the dulcet smile on her beautiful face. Leaving me standing there completely heartbroken with my cock pounding in my pant and begging for release, she makes her way along with several other passengers to the open door. The last I see of her as the train gather swiftness is her making her way along the crowded platform towards the exit.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
As the train passes her she turns and gives a gorgeous grin to me through the window before raising a hand to her lips to blow a soft kiss to the bearded Asian teenager on the train .