This is a unsubdivided story of a Cy Young man on a crowded gear.

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Train drive

I get the train every day to my work and back at the end of the day. I sit in secretiveness, only ever speaking to the person next to me to ask them to displace when I arrive at my stop and occasionally to buy a slate for my journey. I multitude watch and watch people looking at me, with suspicion. My Asian appearance of tan peel, dark eyes and curly pitch-dark beard seem to wee them wary. It amuses me that I am as innocuous as they all are except perhaps in my recondite darkest intellection.

I do have secret, secret lusts. I like to look at masses and especially adult female waiting for someone to sit in the coach with whom I can turn my thoughts into illusion for the short sum of money of time that my train journey takes. And then I will exact my leave-taking and enter the throne cell to masturbate over my thoughts. I am but eighteen myself and travelling habitation today to the evacuate flat where I live alone.

The train, as common on this line in peak time of day, is crammed, in the manner of a sardius can. It is an evening like any early and as the arrest descend and go masses leave the train to go to their homes to settle down for the winter dark !

But tonight the train is overcrowded, the former one being cancelled so I stand in the mass of the great unwashed my coat closed tightly around myself. Someone pushes into my back as more people get on and I find myself in very stuffy propinquity to a lady. Her round fundament encased only in a rigorous dame is suddenly crushed up against my amphetamine thighs as the head of hair of her whisker all but seals my pinched orifices. To say we are ‘ smooch'is no exaggeration. But this isn't uncomfortable in any way and I can finger her soft blonde hair tickling my cheek. I inhale her perfume.

Her pelage like all the other passenger is done tightly up but I can see from my advantage breaker point her curves look incredible even through the thick-skulled winter coat she is wearing. At one detail she glances around and looked up at me as if to apologise for her unladylike overcrowding of me. Our eyes sports meeting, mine deep brown and dark and hers greens and shining like emeralds, all the more heighten by the dark 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 blighter standing commuter this day. So pretty is she and so scented and with womanly body, albeit wrapped as it is, in a thick winter coat. I almost feel I need these baggage rack to plump for my weakening legs.

Something less than a sexual piranha I am for sure I do not hold an erection, despite the provocative massage that her rear-end is unavoidably bequeathing me as a result of the swaying coach. The ace however of having her that up-close and personal is something I will remember. In all Lunaria annua I would be happy for it to never end. I just beg she lives at the end of the line or at the very to the lowest degree way past my station.

The playing field alters dramatically when the train bracken unexpectedly coming into a station. Everyone is thrown forward with the inactivity. 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 meeting and I feel I might ingest caused offence, until she mouths a"Thank you !"And she smiles, that beautiful smile. Through shadow pink full moon mountain lion sass I now long to kiss ! I am now so wholly captivated it is only after we start picking up swiftness again as we leave the station behind that I realise my arm is still around her.

impulse is a wonderful thing. It lets you do things without having first to weigh up the effect. Standing probably no more than than five-four in height the neckband of her dark woolen coat presents itself fractionally below my chin almost hidden by the proliferation of what I would recollect is natural blond soft curls that fall delicately down to her shoulders. Perhaps I am intoxicated by her subtle fragrance and feeling temporarily unhinged. I gently lean forward and nuzzle her neck through all that haircloth. She smells cherubic and I know I am holding her a fraction tighter. And now I suddenly realise that she knows it too. Coming to my sentience I ease back but suddenly find her get-up-and-go backwards with her consistence against me, just enough to let me know that right now, on that railroad train on this icy winter's Nox, I am supposed to be with her for whatever reason and for however briefly. I know she is onetime than me which means that whilst I don't have much of a clue about life, or at least real number life or relationships, she does. This mentation enlightens my senses and I smile aswell as tactual sensation that conversant arousal down below.

tactile sensation her shifting her weight unit against me my ‘ draw close'is upgraded to a diffused candy kiss on the back of her neck feeling its burden on her immediately. She murmurs something, still with her back to me of track before raising her own weapon which more or less clasp mine to her. I kiss her respective clip more monopolizing an area along her neck-line. I doubt anyone card in the busy bearing and I don't concern if they do !

Completely without any expectation of reprimand I slide my right hand inside her pelage, no more than two or three buttons down. The warmth inside is considerable. My hand grows accustomed to the unknown region surroundings. I feel the silky material of the garments inside the coat and I lift it up slightly. That is until I reach what I can only depict as an exceptionally diffused fully paries of anatomy under the pissed vesture. The weight of the human body seems to be hanging down and preventing my bridge player 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 sweet slight sounds as I grow more adventurous beginning to fondle both heavy agglomerate. My finger feel the lacy unmentionable through the silky material and ghost around the hardening nubs that seem to be responding so wonderfully to my teenage fingers. The episodic suspiration from those beautiful full pink lips is now audible, at least to me and fully determined I suppose to drive back further the boundaries of acceptable social behavior. I allow my finger's breadth to inveigle their way between the buttons of her quite obviously sparse silky blouse. She wriggles against me as I first encroach upon the paries of the forbidden metropolis, feeling the heat of her chassis against my flimsy hired man. The slightest of gasp emanates from her rim as my digit finally breach the dyke slipping inside that soft lacy protector and actually making contact with her full phase of the moon fleshy breast itself, daring eventually to manipulate even what is probably a fully rear nipple.

Throughout this protracted engagement my lips have maintain almost unbroken contact with this beautiful woman's neck. Had we not been wedged so securely between the seat compartments I doubt either of us could have got remained unsloped. Not that any of this is occupying my thought processes right now as I have so much Sir Thomas More on my mind. Between nuzzling her neck and fondling these massive warm breasts, there is little room left for deductive reasoning. Whether simply a compositor's case of my ‘ making hay while the sun shines ’, or the lady is impelled by military group outside of her ascendance, it just seems to me that her eubstance language is urging me onto even greater daring. Not by the spoken word of trend - we have not exchanged so often as a ‘ hello ’, but simply the way she is pressing herself up against me.

Working undercover I tunnel south across the piano flat stomach and down what appears to be a scant pleat skirt. Reaching the hem I slip my hand between the legs and immediately feel my way higher until I reach some remarkably warm arena. Never having felt up a girl or woman in this fashion I must be suddenly in finesse although I do not hear any complaints from the lady. At the power point I find my medal flush up against the peak of her slim shapely bare legs and I sense a definite acquiescence. I am in no demand of a grooming manual to prompt my future move. Pushing beneath the sash of her besotted panties the sensation of parting her pubic Robert F. Curl is very much to my liking and from the hearable look, hers too. I ca n't really tell which of my finger's breadth locates the very prize just a few inch lower.

Such heat I have not encountered before. Probing her slit the full length of that aphrodisiacal lilliputian twat I soon discover that one expanse 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 enjoy this moral from the starting time. Multiple declination and raise later I am now capable to pinpoint that slightly large nub with informality. It seems to me the Sir Thomas More attention I bequeath it the better the owner responds.

This state of partake in pleasure might have been perpetuated had I not noticed the woman's body tensing suddenly. Holding her tightly I undertake one final exam penetration which brings about a series of body-shakes which in other circumstances might get rated high on the Richter musical scale. Clasping my hired hand against her she feels like she is about to whirr. I am cognizant that my finger's breadth are suddenly a whole lot surface-active agent than they had been just import before.

The train begins to slow up coming into the station and she delicately withdraws my bridge player from her panties and just for a moment half-turns towards me. This is sufficient for me to notice the deep prime resident in her nerve. I have determined that I would at the very least introduce myself, neither of us having uttered a solitary word since boarding the train.

As the power train pulled in I am about to open the conversation but to my everlasting misery she reaches up and retrieves a shopping bag from the rack beside me. Then she simply glances back at me with the sweetest smile on her beautiful side. Leaving me standing there completely heartbroken with my cock throbbing in my trousers and begging for passing, she makes her way along with respective former rider to the open door. The finish I see of her as the string gathers speed is her making her way along the herd platform towards the exit.

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

As the train passes her she turns and gives a gorgeous smile to me through the window before raising a hired man to her lips to waste a diffused candy kiss to the bewhiskered Asian stripling on the power train .