End of the Line

Student's forbidden fantasies indulged on a train

In my mind I see this as set in Japan. It also might be where you live, if your trains run like clockwork and are clean and safe. This is about a train commuter and progresses slowly at first.

A special thanks to RF-Fast for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in good shape.

End of the Line

Part 1

I'm running again and I know I'm late. Dodging through disgruntled pedestrians and calling out apologies as I shove a few aside. The reason for my haste is I'm going to miss the last train home again. The last time I did that, I was yelled at by my parents for days and finding a hotel room I could afford was hard and a little scary. A number of drunk men offered to pay for a room for the pair of us.

I'm Emi. I'm 20 and attending university in the city studying business. But on Mondays and Thursdays, I work until 9:45 in a coffee shop. Giving me only 15 minutes to get my train. I live way out in the country, in fact in the town at the end of the line. It's 1 hour and 16 minutes exactly to get to my home station.

Hang on, I've got a tricky corner to get around. Oops, I nearly knocked over a little old man with two canes, but he doesn't even notice me. And I'm inside the nearly deserted station and reach into my purse for my pass to swipe at the turnstiles.

I see a guard at the gate and yell out my train number. He glanced at the board, then gestured to me to hurry and opened the gate to let me run through. He saw me nearly every day and knew I had a pass, but I yelled out my thanks, anyway.

At the top of the stairs, I saw the train and rushed down the stairs, taking 2 at a time. As I neared the bottom, I knew I was going too fast. But I managed to hook my arm around a post. Which felt like I'd yanked my arm from the socket, but it was enough to slow me down and swung me towards the still open doors of the train.

But the doors are beeping that they are about to close. I'm 10 feet away when they start to move and with all my strength, I hurl myself forward and make it. Although the door closed on my toes, then opened a little before closing again without my foot in the way, a moment later.

I'm on my knees panting and gasping for breath and the pain hits. I look down to see I've scraped my left knee badly. I pulled myself to my feet and looked around. This late at night, the train only had about a dozen people on it. Everyone was looking at me and I felt both foolish and a little proud that I'd made it, even in such an undignified manner. I looked at the emptier end of the carriage and saw an elderly woman and a mature businessman in a suit with a trilby hat next to him.

He stood and offered me his handkerchief, taking it, I thanked him. Sitting opposite to where he'd been sitting and dabbing at my knee. The handkerchief was a rich thick cotton with OJ embroidered in navy thread in the corner. He knelt in front of me and took the handkerchief back and looked at the wound closely.

It was only then that I realised I was wearing one of my shorter skirts and it almost felt like he was trying to look up it. But I realised I was being foolish. He was just a nice older man. Then the elderly lady took something from her huge purse and handed two sachets to the man. Explaining she carried them as her grandchildren were always falling and cutting themselves.

They were antiseptic wipes, and he tore one open and wiped the wound clean. I winced and clenched my teeth as it stung worse than the fall, but it was better than getting infected. He repeated the move with the other wipe, then pressed the handkerchief back onto the wound. Got me to hold it and put the wipes and their sachets into the bin.

While the journey was a little over an hour long, we never went more than 10 minutes between stops. And as usual at each stop, nobody got on at this time of the night. So, by the time I was half way home, there was only me, and the older man who gave me his handkerchief, and another couple at the other end of the carriage. Most people seemed to congregate at the back of the carriages, as the exits at each station were closer to the back than the front.

My leg had stopped bleeding, and I offered the handkerchief to the man, but he refused. So, I tucked it away, promising I'd clean and iron it and hope to return it another day. I wasn't sure, but I thought I'd often seen him on the train. Usually, I stick my headphones in and zone out, listening to music or an audio book.

Then it was just the two of us with only a few stops left. He asked how my leg was and bent forward to look but gave a pained wince as he leant forward. Saying he had a bad back. Then asked if I could stand so he could inspect it.

I stood and bent the knee to show him, but he smiled like a benevolent grandfather, which he might be. And patted the space between his knees and told me to put my foot there. The pain of bending my leg and worrying about it bleeding again overrode my caution, and I did what he said.

Only as I stood on one foot and holding on to the straps above my head. As we started to slow down for the 3rd station from the end of the line. The bright light of the station shone in through the window. I grabbed the overhead straps tighter to steady myself.

A description of myself is appropriate here. I'm petite for the most part. I'm only 150cm tall [just under 5 feet], and my older brother used to call me toothpick. Until I was 17, I was tiny with no curves at all. When my boobs grew in, he no longer had that option as they ballooned up to a C cup. Which, when you're only a 78cm chest [31 inches] chest, makes them look overly large. And I oscillated between hating them, being too apparently large and loving the attention.

My straight black hair hangs a couple of inches below my shoulders, and I tend to use flower hair grips to hold the hair away from my face. Which makes me look younger, and I got teased for it at work, but I do it for a reason. If I look younger and play innocent at work, I discovered I could get twice the tips compared to the other girls. I know it was wrong, but I needed those tips, and I hoped the others never caught on.

I was wearing a light jacket over a plain white blouse. Then a skirt that ended closer to my bottom than my knees. Because until my boobs finally grew, I used short skirts to try to get any boy's attention. I finished this off with pink high-top sneakers, or at least a good knock-off. White ankle socks completed the ensemble.

But at this moment, I'm in front of a stranger, with my foot on the bench between his knees. I'm short and the bench seemed high. So, my knee was probably level with my belly button. Then it struck me what it would look like if anyone saw me. I was leaning forward, hanging on to the overhead straps for balance. But it would look like I was thrusting my boob at him.

Then another thought hit me. With my knee this high, there was every chance he could see up my skirt and see my panties. I froze, unsure of what to do. It looked like he was just studying my knee, and if I put my foot back down quickly. It would be like I was accusing him of being a pervert. All that might just be in my mind, as he was just a kindly older man wanting to help me out.

The train stopped at the station, and I swayed on the straps, but my foot remained between his knees. Suddenly, my mind was filled with a series of memories, one after the other.

As a girl, I had nightmares about being naked at school. I think everyone has those dreams. And it terrified me. When I got older and was just coming to terms with the idea of sex, despite not being ready to do anything. I remembered lying in bed touching myself, excited over the prospect of what it would feel like when a boy did that to me. But scared at the same time. I imagined one boy I liked had snuck into my room and it was his fingers touching me under my panties.

I was close to cumming when Dad knocked on the door and told me 'Good night.' Ashamed, I snatched my hand out of my panties and mumbled a sleepy reply. Then rolled over and tried to get to sleep. Naturally, as I'd gone to sleep unsatisfied, I had naughty dreams. Including the one where I was naked at school. Only this time, instead of running naked down the corridors, trying to cover up, I walked calmly past the other students, letting the girls, boys and teacher all take in my naked body.

I felt so empowered, and I was so excited. Then I saw the headmaster at his office door, and he gestured to me to come into his office. I walked defiantly past him and as he closed the door behind me, I felt his hand graze my bottom. I woke up from the dream with a sticky mess in my panties and my finger coated in my girl-goo.

Even now, the memory of the dream is etched into my mind. I told my best friend about it, and she called me a secret slut. But teased me about having dreams about the headmaster. From time to time, she'd tease me about flashing people and even threatened to remove my bikini top at the pool and run off with it. I would blush, but the idea turned me on for some reason.

When I turned 18 and took my first lover, I was infatuated with him and wanted to do anything to please him. He was a few years older, and I remember after vigorous sex, we cuddled, and he asked what fantasies I had. He told a few of his, which were predictable, but I struggled to think of any myself. So, I told him about my friend stealing my bikini top and leaving me topless in the pool.

After that, when we were out and about, he'd lean into me and whisper in my ear some variation of my forced exposing fantasy. One time we were talking past an ornate metal fence. When he told me to imagine what would happen if the cuff of my sleeve got caught in the fence. And no matter what we did, we couldn't get it free. Then said he had an idea and unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it off me. So, I was standing on the street in my bra, or perhaps I wasn't wearing a bra that day. I stood there as motorists and other pedestrians went past gawking, while he knelt to free my blouse.

Usually, he came up with these stories while we were on our way to his place. As he knew how hot and bothered, I'd be by the time we got there, and he'd reap the reward.

The beeping of the train door about to close brought me back from the past and as the train started to pull out of the station. I realised I must have been standing with my leg up and letting the man see my panties for a full minute.

Then, as I thought about it, a warm flush passed through me to settle into my crotch. That was a shock and enough for me to move away and sit down. But I was sure I was blushing. I'd had only a few lovers, but all had left me unsatisfied. The sex was OK, but kind of boring. But I suppose my lovers and myself were inexperienced.

The next station arrived, and he stood and said that he hoped my knee was OK. The ride to the end of the line and my destination was the longest wait, and I sat confused by my reaction. I was probably overreacting and thinking about some girls in my class that claimed they had issues on the train coming to university. They claimed they had guys try to grope them. But I'd never had a problem and teased them that it was men from the south that were perverts, compared to the nice men from the north.

When I got home, I put a plaster on my knee and went to bed and woke up to vague memories of dreams with a sexual content. Not that unusual, as my last boyfriend was nearly a year ago. The next couple of days I wore trousers to hide the scuffed knee.

On Thursday, I had the handkerchief washed, ironed and even starched in preparation to return it to him, but he wasn't there. However, on Monday he was, and I presented the handkerchief to him and thanked him. He asked if I was ok, and I pointed to my plastered knee, then sat opposite him.

Part 2

I felt embarrassed about what had happened the previous week. Why had I been so silly as to stand with my knee up like that? My parents would be appalled that I'd done it. And why had I stood there for so long? What did he think? Was I really the secret slut my friend used to call me?

While he was a stranger, I'd been raised to be respectful to my elders and always seek their approval. I didn't want him to think badly of me. Did he think of me as a foolish, naïve little girl, unaware that putting my foot on the seat between his legs would probably show my underwear? Or someone who did it, knowing full well what he might see.

With my petite size, I hated to be thought of as still a little girl, but neither did I want to be thought of as a slut. The idea sent a strange shiver down my back. Glancing from the corner of my eye at him. I saw him studying his crossword in the newspaper. Without meaning to, I conflated his image with that of my old headmaster.

I felt myself flushing at that thought as I remembered that dream, I'd had, and the subsequent fantasy I had evolved it into. In the dream, I'd walked naked into his office, and his hand brushed my bottom as he closed the door. After I told my friend that dream, and she teased me, I never told her the next part.

I stood nude in the middle of his office as he walked around me. He was a large man, easily 30cm [a foot] taller than me and close to twice my weight. He said he had a lost and found box from gym classes and would find me something to wear. After opening a cupboard, revealing a large box of clothing, he reached inside and held up a tape measure.

Saying he needed to check my size before going through the clothing. I could have just told him, but I stood there silently as he stood behind me and placed the tape just below my breasts. Noting the measurement, then moving the tape over my breasts. The cool plastic pressing on my nipples just caused them to harden more.

He seemed to struggle with it as the tape kept slipping off one breast or another. Which just seemed to make him rub the tape over my nipples and areola more. His fingertips kept touching me as he adjusted the tape. Then he moved around in front of me, using the excuse of the tape to rub the back of his fingers over my breasts.

And the whole time I stood there passively, letting him pretend he was still doing legitimate things. He measured my waist and hips, then said he needed my inside leg. I shivered as he gestured to a pair of plastic chairs against one wall, telling me to stand with a foot on each one, so I don't overbalance.

Standing on the chairs, intensely aware of the gap between my legs. His eyes were at my breast height, and I could swear he licked his lips as if he was going to suck on them. And I so wanted him to do it. But he knelt and held one end of the tape to my ankle, then looked up at me. I shivered but gave a tiny nod of agreement.

His other hand slid slowly up my legs, pressing the tape, but we both knew the tape was just the excuse. My breath caught in my throat as I felt the tape end brush over my labia. Then I shuddered as his thumb pressed on the tape against the edge of my pussy. I closed my eyes and after a few moments, he moved his thumb back and forth.

The tape fell away. We both knew that was only an excuse and he smiled at me as his thumb pressed between my slit and felt how wet I was.

He stood and brought his free hand up to one breast, cupping it gently, then kissed the other breast. I was loving the feeling but was over all too quick as his hands reached behind me, gripping my bum and squeezing it. Before picking me up and depositing me on my back over his desk...

The beeping of the train doors about to close dragged me back from the fantasy. I knew I was blushing and squeezing my thighs together for the stimulation. It took a few moments to realise I'd zoned out for at least 10 minutes. I glanced over at the man to see he was no longer looking at his paper.

His eyes seemed to rest on the plaster on my injured knee. From his suit, he gave off the impression of a businessman, but was he a doctor? Was he worried about infection or just how long it would take to heal? I shifted in my seat to look, shifting my feet slightly. Then I looked up to see he was still looking, but now I realised he wasn't looking at the plaster.

He was looking at my legs. A tiny buzz of a thrill went through me at that. Was he remembering what my thighs looked like? God, I wished I knew if he had seen my panties or not. Either way, I felt myself getting wet. If I was a far bolder person, I'd love to ask him how much he saw.

Doing something out of character, I shifted a foot a little further, whilst watching his eyes closely. They opened a fraction wider as my knees moved a tiny bit further apart. Not more than 3 or 4 inches apart. But my short shirt revealed a little more of my inner thigh. Especially as he was directly opposite me.

His eyes broke away and up to my face. He knew that I'd caught him looking, but instead of embarrassment or denial. He just smiled at me, and I felt butterflies in my stomach. He knew I'd done that deliberately. I couldn't help but blush and look away, while fighting the urge to snap my legs shut. If I did that, it was a complete admission I was trying to tease him.

Why had I done that? Just because I was horny, or I was that desperate for male attention, I'd tease an old man? OK, teasing might be an exaggeration, and he wasn't that old. But it wasn't something I'd done before.

I kept my eyes away from him until the train stopped at his stop. He stood, cleared his throat and gave a slight smile and bow. I bobbed my head automatically, and he left the train. Leaving me alone to struggle with my thoughts.

Why had I done that? Was it the cumulative rejection of the standards set by my parents, my town, and my society? Society said that people my age should go through higher education. Despite there only being so many jobs that make use of the qualifications. And as a result, the young people in my town call it the graveyard. It's primarily a commuter town with few jobs, and almost all the kids fled at 18, with few ever returning. Hence the graveyard name with an ever ageing society.

Because my parents insist, I live at home to save them money, it's robbed me of the chance to date. Unless I wanted to date 17-year-olds while I was 20. Add in that my parents would not allow a boyfriend to come to the house, let alone stay overnight. It was bullshit.

I blew out a lungful of exasperated air. I was overthinking it! Yes, I was wearing a short skirt, but I'd been wearing short skirts for years. Sometimes even shorter than this one. So, I was used to boys and men looking at my legs. It wasn't like I'd thrown my ankles behind my neck and yanked my skirt up. I smirked at the absurdity of that thought.

But as I imagined it and felt sad that I had some wild ideas, but I was too much of a good girl to live out my fantasies. The closest I'd come was by accident last week. And I wouldn't have even thought about him looking at my legs if I'd not been daydreaming about my old headmaster.

Not that I ever fancied him, he was just an older authority figure. Being naughty around him made it far naughtier that way.

Over the next few days and through the weekend, I kept circling back to my lack of a love life, or even any real excitement sexually. I looked at my friend's social media and their boyfriends. Feeling blue and lonely. Getting some attention, even from an older guy, would be something.

In fact, if I were to tease, an older guy would be better. And all I was thinking about was teasing. Something to fluff up my ego a little by being appreciated. Someone closer to my age would assume it was an invitation to do more than watch. Someone his age would realise it wasn't, and make do with just watching, right?

Not that I'd ever do it. I never did. Too much of the good daughter to do anything risky.

On Monday night I entered the train as usual, seeing about 50% of passengers were the regulars, but not the man. Sitting on the same seat as last time, I put on my headphones to listen to a trashy romance novel a friend had recommended. I'd used a free credit to get it.

Here is what I was hearing:

A couple of executives who flew halfway around the world to give presentations for their head office.

The woman was elegant, late 30s and divorced. He was early 30s, handsome but full of himself. They worked in the same city, but different branches. The story was fairly predictable with him flirting and her trying to ignore him. When they got to London, the presentations were delayed due to a panic about a potential hostile takeover of the company.

With nothing else to do, the pair did the tourist thing, and she realised that his flirtation was just his nature. As he flirted with waitresses and even a restaurant owner, who had to be 70. The woman actually found she was a little jealous when he flirted with others.

On the second day, unable to sleep due to the time difference, she got up early to use the hotel pool in the basement. And enjoyed the peace of swimming alone. At least until her colleague joined her. Seeing him in just his trunks triggered an expected flutter of attraction. He was broad shouldered and toned. But with just enough softness in the stomach to make her feel better about her own body.

After more touristy things, the pair become more comfortable around each other, and he reveals genuine charm and a self-deprecating sense of humour. When she tested him shoe shopping, he was happy to go along with it and even had a good eye. Over their evening meal, he teased her about pranking her presentation with a fart machine, even producing one from his pocket.

He escorted her back to her room, and for a moment, they hesitated. Almost as if both were considering a goodnight kiss. Inside her room, she opened wine and wondered what she could do to prank his presentation. A fart machine might be somewhat childish, but it was fun. And fun was something she had lacked for far too long.

His presence was wearing down her objections to his personality when they first met. By the end of her 1st glass of wine, she decided she needed to think of something, even if she never did it. But by the time her second glass was empty, she had an idea.

Something a little more grown up than a fart machine. She'd checked out the auditorium in the hotel where they would give their presentations. Cinema style tiered seating, each with a narrow bench table in front to allow for note takings or reading material. As she was giving a presentation, she would be in the front row. And the easiest way to distract a guy was with her body.

She planned on wearing a classy charcoal wrap around dress. It was modest, with a knee-length skirt, but by adjusting the ties, she could create a deep cleavage. Or, as she was toying with the idea, she could adjust the ties to allow a lot of thigh to show. Nobody but him would see that under the desk.

By the end of the next glass, she'd amended her plan to flashing him some inner thigh, assuming it would not be enough to trip him up. So instead, she'd flash her panties. Why not? She was away from home and single. She'd never do this at home, but when in Rome, or London.

Before she went to bed, she decided on a bright red pair of panties, just to make sure he knew he wasn't just seeing her skirt.

The next day, after another pleasant day, she realised she didn't have suitable panties and made a note to pop out to get a pair over lunch before the presentation. However, fate stepped in as their local managing director took them to lunch, offering some liquid courage. She had a couple of glasses while her partner stuck to one.

She gave her presentation, and he produced the remote for the fart machine and left it on the table but didn't set it off. As she returned to her seat, he leaned over and said it was good, but to watch to see how it was done properly. She'd almost forgotten about her plan, but that was enough to solidify it.

The host called a 10 minute bathroom break, where she was left almost alone in the auditorium. She made the necessary adjustment to her apparel for her prank. Two minutes into his 10 minute presentation, she made her first move. Leaning back in her seat and stretching her shoulders, but that was just to grab his attention as she moved her feet about a foot apart.

Then let her legs part naturally. Just a hint of thigh, but she saw how he caught it. He gave her a look that he knew what she was doing, but she'd hardly started yet. Periodically, she'd let her legs sway open wider, and he caught it. But he wasn't thrown off his presentation.

As he was coming towards the end, with about 2 minutes left, she reached down to adjust the dress. With the inner tie on the dress undone, the two parts of the dress slipped off her thighs and he would see all the way up her legs. Only instead of the red panties she'd planned on wearing, she'd gone with none.

He stuttered at seeing that, and she felt wickedly excited that she'd done something so brazen. She gave him a raised eyebrow, then covered up. He finished his presentation, and she was surprised to have to go back on stage to be thanked by everyone. Suddenly self-conscious about going commando and having her dress only partially fastened.

The director thanked them and apologised for not getting an opportunity to entertain them better. And with that he and the other staff had to get back to the office. Leaving her and her partner alone and walking down the hotel corridor.

When he gave her a look and asked what the problem was. He'd been flirting with her and now he was bent out of shape that she'd flirted back. He stopped at a door that had a janitor's sign on it and pressed the door open. Then grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her inside. The room was full of wire racks of toilet paper and cleaning supplies.

She laughed, and he pressed her against a rack, but gasped as his hand dove under her dress to grasp her naked arse. His mouth covered her and his tongue dove into her mouth. In an instant, hers joined the wrestling match as he squeezed and groped her bum. In a matter of moments, she reached between them. Not to stop him or push him back, but to unzip him and yank out his hardening dick.

She dropped to her knees and sucked it deep into her mouth...

Wow, this audiobook was steamier than I was expecting. I'd let out a gasp about how graphic the description of the sex was and knew I was blushing. Not that anyone else knew what I was listening to, but even so, it was kind of naughty to be listening to such a pornographic story in public.

It was an odd coincidence about her flashing the guy while I'd been thinking about the old man looking at my legs. Glancing down the train carriage, I saw that half the other people had already left, and none were looking in my direction. Imagining how bold the woman in the story was, I closed my eyes and projected myself into her scenario. Or a version of it.

Thought about sitting here with the old man opposite. Outwardly, he seemed to be studying his crossword, but we both knew he was looking at my legs. Opening my eyes, while still running the scenario in my head, I moved my feet about a foot apart. But with my knees close together. I did this in the real world, whilst watching that no one was looking my way.

When I was sure everyone else was half asleep or wrapped up in their own head, I let my knees part. Trying not to smirk at how naughty it felt. Even with no one there to see it. OK, even if she had her audience, it wasn't anything like the story. My audience might see half way up my legs and I was obviously wearing panties.

After closing my legs, I let out a sigh and regretted not being bold enough to do anything properly outrageous.

When the last of the other passengers got off 3 stops from the end of the lines, I lay back on the bench seat and stared at the ceiling. The story had left me excited and horny. But I'd wait until I went to bed to listen to the rest. Yet another problem with living with my parents, apart from the boyfriend thing, was thin walls.

I had a vibrator but couldn't risk using it in case my parents heard it. And having the house to myself was a rare luxury. One which I made the most of when it happened.

Part 3

On Thursday, I was wrapped up in my own thoughts as I rushed for the train and had entirely forgotten about the naughty story and my fantasy audience. At least until I stepped on to the train. He was in his usual seat 3/4 of the way down the carriage towards the front. While everyone else remained in the final 1/4 as the exits at most of the stations were to the rear of the train. Sitting at the front avoided noise and any other interruptions as people got off.

Somehow, my feet walked me toward him, and he looked up, nodded and gave me the briefest of smiles. Then he looked at my knee. It still wore a plaster from the fall and would probably need one for a bit longer. I unzipped my coat in the heat of the train and sat a little heavily. And deliberately.

I was wearing a white t-shirt with the coffee shop logo stencilled high on my breast. Sitting heavily allowed my above average boobs a chance to bounce nicely. It was something newly discovered, and I was still getting the hang of that move. But it seemed to work on any guy I'd tried it on.

He noticed and raised one eyebrow just a fraction. I wondered what he'd do. Would he be disappointed in my attitude? Write me off as some airhead using her sexuality so casually? His eyes dropped to my legs, then returned to his newspaper crossword. I put on my ear phones and listened to some music, looking bored out of the windows and at the other passengers.

After the first few stops, there was nothing to see out of the windows in the dark between towns. The dark night sky made an effective backdrop to see my reflection in the glass. My mind was wandering and without thinking about it consciously, it landed on the naughty story from the other day. I remembered how the woman had flashed her colleague.

And then I remembered my minor re-enactment. Without thought, I moved my feet and my knees, not much but enough to attract the attention of the man opposite. His eyes moved from the crossword to my legs, and I felt amused that boys only differ from men in age. Looking up a girl's skirt is something a guy of any age would want.

His gaze moved up my body to study my face. An intense look, as if calculating something complicated. My pulse picked up, and I started to feel warm. Was he disappointed in me? Was he judging me? Did he think I was just a young girl playing at being a grown up?

The corners of his mouth tensed and if he'd made up his mind and was about to say something. I sat very still, and he looked down at my legs. His right hand, holding the pen, rested on his leg. Then his index finger extended towards me and made a subtle gesture. I frowned slightly, not understanding, but he repeated the gesture, and I realised what it meant.

My heart rate spiked up, and I wondered if I'd got it wrong. Could he? Did he? It was the only thing it could mean, wasn't it? He meant for me to open my legs further. But just because it was what he wanted, why would I do that?

As I tried to think, I found my legs moving a little further apart. And I realised doing something like this in public was exactly the thrill I'd been missing for too long. I didn't have to do much, as I was still in charge. But letting him initiate it reduced my responsibility for my actions.

Seeing I was doing it, I saw the tension at the sides of his mouth form the faintest of smiles. My heart was racing, and I was feeling very warm, and not just from blushing, but beneath my panties as well. OK, my knees were less than 6 inches apart, but with my short shirt, I was sure he could see at least half way up my skirt.

Compared to the story I'd listened to, it was nothing, but still a big step for me. And it was thrilling. Far more than I might have suspected. Obviously, I wasn't attracted to him, but it was the wrongness of it that made it exciting.

I looked down the train to ensure no one else saw what we were doing. But there were only three other people, and none were paying attention to us. One was alone, staring at his phone, and the other two a couple and talking quietly. The train started to slow and the guy on the phone looked up, checking it was his stop.

Without making it obvious, I closed my legs just before the train stopped and he jumped up, turned towards me and left the train. The train had barely left the station when the couple started to gather their bags for the next stop in just a few minutes. The man and I sat doing nothing until the couple got off at the next stop.

I got butterflies in my stomach at the realisation I was alone on the train with him. But I didn't feel threatened by him. Without making it obvious, I spotted the alarm button about 20 feet away. If the alarm was triggered and there was no response over the speakers. The train would lock down at the next station until the police could investigate.

Not that it would help me much, but that hint of fear was like an extra shake of spices in this crazy situation. Looking the old man in the eyes, I resumed my position with my legs about 6 inches apart. He smiled more fully at me, then he slipped his pen away and sank down in his seat a few inches. A jolt of fear and excitement exploded in my stomach and pussy. In that order.

There was no way he could see all the way up to my panties. But now I was more concerned that if he could, that he'd see how wet I'd become.

It felt rather bizarre as I pretended to be looking out of the windows behind him as he looked up my skirt. Was he imagining what sort of panties I was wearing? The colour or the style? Or was he wondering what my pussy looked like? That idea electrified me like nothing before.

I remembered the story and tried to imagine if I could do something like that. But it was too alien a concept. What I was doing was off the scale for anything I'd done previously outside my own head. Even if the naughty contents of my head sometimes surprised me.

Something clicked in my head and before I could think it through, I acted. I slid my backside forward on the bench seat. Letting myself slouch back. And then moved my feet and knees further apart. I could tell the instant he saw my panties from the sharp raise of his eyebrows. He looked up at my face, but I carefully kept my eyes on the windows. But concentrating on looking at him from his reflection in the window.

Flashing my panties like that was so wrong. The location and the person were wrong, and that just made it pants-wettingly right.

All too soon, the train started to break for his station, and he looked up at my face and gave me the slightest of shrugs. He sat up and picked up the long raincoat from the seat next to him and slipped the paper into a pocket. The trains stopped, and he stood smoothly. Gave me a polite nod, which I returned on reflex, and he left me alone.

It was only after he left did. I close my legs, and I grinned as I recalled a slight bulge in the front of his pants as he left. I was feeling a little high as I walked from the station to my house. Like I'd overcome some troublesome burden. I'd taken the bull by the horns and finally done something outside my comfort zone. Yes, I had to admit it wasn't all me, but I'd take credit for most of it. Leaving the guilt at the feet of the older man.

Part 4

Thursday crawled around slowly, and the weather had taken a hit. Icy winds and cold showers forced me to drag out my white puffer coat. It had been a bad shift at work as someone spilt a hot chocolate over me. Luckily it was cold, but I had to change from my uniform. I had jeans with me, but another girl leant me a blouse to wear.

After rushing to the train, I took my seat opposite the old man again. He looked over, and I sensed a wave of disappointment from him that I was in jeans. I was confused that I felt bad for letting him down. My clothes were my choice after all, and I couldn't exactly apologise and explain why I wasn't in a skirt.

Did he expect me to flash him my panties every time? The idea generated warmth in my jeans. Did he expect to see more? That triggered dampness and I squirmed in my seat a little. I tried to reign in my imagination from conflating my headmaster dream with the train. Thinking of walking onto the train nude.

At the first stop a group of people stood and fastened up their coats. I realised the train was warm, and I'd not benefit from the coat if I kept it fastened up all trip. So, I unfastened it and was about to remove it when I felt the attention from the old man again. This time his eyes were on my chest, and I looked down to see the middle button had popped open.

My chest was larger than the other girl, so it gaped open. 'So, it is not just my legs he likes,' I thought. Glancing down the train, I calculated the angles and with my puffer coat still open, the voluminous material would hide me from the others. After last week, we both knew this was a game.

Admittedly one where there were no defined rules. And he knew I was compliant, at least to some extent. He'd gestured for me to show him more of my legs and I had. Then I went further to flash my panties.

Now, if someone saw me like this, I could shrug it off as an accident, because it was. I let him stare for a minute or so before reaching to re-button it. The gesture with his pen stopped me and I frowned until he made another gesture. Pointing to his tie and making a movement that I realised meant to undo another button.

Looking down, I tried to calculate how much you'd see if I did. The current undone button was between my breasts so if I undid the buttons above, you'd see some cleavage but nothing more. Perhaps a hint of my bra, but I doubted that.

Feeling emboldened I scratched my nose, then undid the next two buttons and saw his thin smile widen. When I double checked what you could see, my heart raced for a moment at how deep I could see. Until I remembered he was on the other side of the train, and not looking down the front of my blouse.

Looking over his shoulders to the window behind him I could see my reflection against the dark sky outside and smiled inwardly. It was a little naughty, but I'd worn lower cut tops when out with friends. Trying to pick up a guy. The difference was the location and the guy. Plus, it had been him who initiated it. The idea that I'd submitted to him troubled me as it excited me when I knew it shouldn't.

Yes, I'd been brought up to be respectful to my elders, but that didn't extend to this, did it? I chuckled silently and knew the kinky side of my libido would have a field day exploring that this weekend. My parents were going to visit a relative and would be gone all day Saturday. Leaving me to use my toy as much as I wanted.

As the journey continued, I assumed he'd get bored and go back to his crossword. He couldn't see that much, but there were just enough jolts on the track to cause my boobs to move around. I wondered what it would look like without a bra. Or topless. I flushed as I thought that.

Before I knew it there were just the old couple, him and myself on the train. They were engrossed in reading a holiday brochure and ignored this end of the train. I jumped a little as he stood and moved over to sit next to me. Leaving his raincoat, trilby and umbrella on the other bench.

He held his folded newspaper with the crossword showing between us and leant in until his shoulder pressed against mine. To anyone else it looked like he was asking me a question about the crossword. For which he'd be right out of luck as I couldn't do them. But of course, that was not his intention.

Leaving in towards me gave him a far better view down my blouse. I blushed but felt that warmth spread into my panties. It was unlikely he'd see as much as me, but even so I felt like my body was humming. I felt like a deer in headlights. Frozen in place, then watched with a strange detachment as his other hand moved to rest lightly on my thigh.

The move was disguised under the newspaper and my heart sped up. It wasn't overtly sexual and if it was an uncle or my grandfathers, I'd have written it off as only mildly inappropriate. But the situation here made that different. His hand simply sat there. Not moving or trying to squeeze my thigh.

The train slowed, and I watched from the corner of my eye as the old couple gathered their bags and left the train. As the train sped up again pulling away from the station, my heart sped up as well. Now it was only the two of us on the train. What restriction we had with other passengers was gone.

He set his paper down and twisted slightly towards me. Replacing his hand with the other and rubbing it up and down my leg. It wasn't aggressive, and he wasn't trying to force his fingers between my legs. But he was a stranger and older than my dad. And yet I was allowing him access to my body.

OK, it was only my legs and through jeans. But it was wrong. And I found it incredibly exciting. My nipples were achingly hard, and I could detect them through my substantial bra. And my panties were getting damper by the second.

The minutes passed, and I felt like I was in a trance. Until the train started to slow for his stop. He sighed, then removed his hand and retrieved his paper. Scribbled something on the edge and tore it off. Then stood and faced me.

The bulge in his pants was more noticeable this time. He leant forward and reached towards me. He gripped the lapel of my blouse lightly and pulled it back. Exposing a little more cleavage. I blushed as I passively let him, and he smiled down at me. Again, I was conflating him with the fantasy I'd had about my old headmaster.

The train stopped and he let go, then handed me the scrap of paper. Then quickly grabbed his stuff from the other bench and stepped off the train only moments before the door shut. He nodded at me as the train pulled away and I finally read what he'd written on the paper.

"Always wear a short skirt." He'd written.

I shivered at the thought of him running his hands over my naked thighs. Fuck! I was gonna have to masturbate when I got home.

Part 5

After a glorious Saturday with the house to myself, I managed to run the batteries down in my vibrator, getting myself off many times. But on Sunday I was torn thinking about what was going on with the stranger on the train. Obviously, I knew it was bad, and I should stop it. But...

But it was the first excitement I'd felt in far too long. And I could stop it at any point, right? That generated a twinge of doubt. What was happening on the train was feeding my darker fantasies. In only the mildest ways, but enough to provide fodder for more.

It was only when I got on the train on Monday morning did, I realise not only had I worn a short skirt as the stranger had requested. I'd worn my only pair of red panties that mirrored the woman in the erotic story I'd listened to.

As my shift at the coffee shop wound down, my mind was already thinking about the train home. For once the train was actually nearly full, and I ended up sitting right at the front, away from the stranger. But within a few stops it emptied down to the usual numbers. And all of those were at the back of the train.

The stranger caught my eye and looked over to my usual seat opposite. This was it! I could use this to break the spell he had over me. But instead, I stood and moved to the seat opposite him. Pausing to ensure I had his full attention.

I stood in front of him and unzipped my puffer jacket fully. Holding it open and enjoying the look of appreciation as he saw my short skirt. Taking my seat opposite him, I adjusted my coat, which was longer than my skirt by quite a lot. This positioned it to block the view from anyone further down the train.

Feeling rather brazen, I gave him a slight smile and parted my knees a little. Enjoying the look of pleasure on his face. I was still playing the game. Our game.

I was listening to that erotic story again, to the part where the woman had decided on red panties to flash her colleague. Too wrapped up in it until I noticed the stranger tap his pen on his leg as if to get my attention. When he saw I was looking he made a gesture I knew, and a shiver went through me.

Looking casually down the train, I slipped my bum closer to the edge of the seat and let my legs hang open. My knees were perhaps 25 cm apart (10 inches) and there was no way he'd not see my red panties. He looked up with a knowing look and I raised an eyebrow in return. As if in challenge to him.

Which looking back was a mistake. Last week he'd got a pretty close up view down my cleavage, so showing my panties again was too mild for him at this stage of the game.

With four stops to go, he touched his tie again and nodded to me. I tried not to smirk as I looked down. I was in a blouse again and I considered refusing. I was in charge, and I was sure he'd be disappointed but not actually do anything.

But at the same time, I knew I was getting at least as much of a buzz from this as he was. It stoked my long suppressed fantasies and was harmless fun.

"So far." My libido whispered into my ear.

Tugging on the collar of my puffer coat to ensure it hid what I was doing from others on the train I undid the top two buttons and stopped. It showed less than last week, and I enjoyed the look of disappointment and the little flutter of power I had over him.

But he knew I was teasing him, and while I waited for him to gesture, I should do more. I discovered he had more patience than me. So, when he finally made the gesture, my hands shot out far too quickly. Destroying any pretence of cool I was trying to project.

The next two buttons opened to below my breasts and I was sure he could see my bra strap through the narrow gap. I knew I'd been too eager as he gestured again, and I hesitated. There were only two buttons left. My hands trembled slightly as I popped the buttons.

I tried to chastise myself at overreacting. I tried to calm down, but he shifted in his seat. Gripped both sides of his open jacket and gave it a tugged if as if straightening it. Then made a show of pushing it back. Did he want me to open my blouse? My stomach flip-flopped.

This was getting dangerous. I needed time to think and examine the few remaining passengers. Trying to do the maths and calculate the angles. You'd have to be less than 10 feet away, and on the other side of the carriage to see around my jacket.

Despite knowing better, my suppressed libido, backed up by a neglected ego egged me on. Moving at a glacial speed I opened my blouse. Nearly hyperventilating as my bra clad breasts came fully into view. Despite having no issues wearing a bikini smaller than this at the pool, this location and the situation made it feel extremely naughty.

I was feeling a little lightheaded as I saw his eyes darting around. Devouring every exposed centimetre of my exposed body. I was positive that he'd be able to see the damp patch on my panties, but that just made me hotter.

I barely noticed as the train stopped, and a passenger got off. It was only as the train pulled away from the station that I was astonished I'd not covered up if only momentarily. The stranger shifted in his seat and moved his newspaper. Revealing an impressive bulge in his trousers.

My heart rate spiked, and I couldn't look away. Even when his newspaper hid it again. I knew I was being silly, but it looked larger than anything I'd seen in the flesh. The word 'flesh' triggered my imagination, and wild thoughts flooded my mind. I saw myself kneeling in front of him and begging him to let me see it.

After years of my fantasy about my headmaster it wasn't hard to morph them into a new scenario on the train.

The train slowing again dragged me back to the present. The elderly couple got up, and I nodded to them in a friendly way as the wife smiled at me. I doubt she'd have smiled had she been closer. Watching me blatantly flash a stranger both my bra and panties.

The door was barely closed when the stranger jumped up to sit next to me. His hand felt hot on my cool thigh, and I tried not to gasp as it worked up my inner thigh. I wondered if he could feel any of the furnace heat my pussy was pumping out.

What would I do if he touched me there? Would I let him? Could I stop him? Did I want to? Butterflies erupted in my stomach. Fear and excitement are warring inside me. Fear not of him, but of what I was thinking and wanting to happen.

Far, far beyond anything that was right, or even with what I'd done with my actual boyfriends.

Part 6

I looked down as if through another person's eyes seeing his hand hidden under my skirt. His fingers are only a few fingers widths from touching me directly through my panties. Then he moved his hand to my stomach. My breath caught in my throat, and I noted his clean, but short nail. His gold monogrammed cufflinks. I knew I was trying to distract myself as his hand moved higher.

He paused just shy of my breasts as if asking permission. Woodenly I gave the minutest of nods and gasps as his large hand engulfed my breasts. I felt my pussy gush and eyes fluttered half closed. God! That felt good. Why was it so different for someone else touching me compared to just myself?

My mind was a whirlwind of emotions and confusing thoughts. I felt like I was underwater and tossed about in stormy waters. Rational thoughts were like the few brief moments when I could grasp some air as my face broke the surface.

In the reflection from the window opposite I struggled to believe what I was seeing. Seeing my face on such a lewd scene was like I was watching an AI faked image. But as he started to kiss the upper slopes of my breasts, I knew it was real.

He abandoned my breast momentarily to reach up to try to push the bra strap off my shoulder. But with my blouse and jacket on it hardly moved. He reached for the lapel of my jacket, and I sat forward to make it easier for him to slip my jacket off. With my arms free from the jacket, he slipped his other hand up the back of my blouse. Unhooking my bra strap with a dexterity I envied. Years of wearing a bra every day and I wasn't that good. And he did it one handed!

My heart thumped hard as he pushed my bra up and exposed my breast fully. The hungry look on his face was totally different to this same kindly older man I first remembered. As his hands and mouth descended to my breasts, I studied the reflection in the window opposite and marvelled at what I saw.

Me, a usually meek and mild young woman. Polite and respectful to others but acting in such a slutty wanton way. The number of things wrong with what I saw was so large, but they added up to some rocket fuelled excitement at the taboo of what I was doing.

If I heard one of my friends had done this, I'd either not believe it, or think they were such a slut. Thinking of myself as a slut confused me as it should upset me, but right now I wanted it. I wanted this and more.

We both felt the touch of a brake and he mumbled a complaint into my tit flesh, then stood. Standing close in front of me he reached down and adjusted his erection to a more comfortable position. Then he turned away, scribbled something on his paper and tore it off. Handed it to me and leant in to give me one last fondle and a surprisingly chaste kiss on the mouth.

I wanted to say something, but he grabbed his stuff and stepped outside. Pausing to tip his hat at me as the doors closed. It was only as he vanished when the train pulled out. I realised I'd sat there the entire time when the train was stopped and the doors open, with my tits out and my panties on full display.

What if someone got on? In my mind's eye, I imagined five young men getting on and sitting around me looking at my exposed body. I shivered at the idea and the urge to be seen like this. Then I remembered the train carriage had cameras. Although they weren't monitored, beyond checking they were working, except if there was an incident.

I got up and walked towards the end of the carriage to see the camera up by the ceiling. Bringing my hands up, I ran my thumbs over my breasts while staring into the camera. Then lightly squeezed my nipples. Shivering, I gripped the hem of my short skirt and pulled it up to my waist then plunged my other hand down the front of my panties.

As my fingertips pressed on to my aching clit, I exploded in orgasm. Fuck! My legs were wobbly, and I couldn't believe I'd cum from a single touch. Damn, he'd gotten me so worked up!

But with orgasm came a trickle of rationality. Finally thinking a little clearer, I returned to my seat and pulled my bra back into place. Not wanting to have to take it and my blouse off, I left it unfastened. But button up my blouse and put my coat on. I'd just zipped that up when the train stopped at my station.

I blinked in shock as the doors opened, revealing a train inspector. He gave me a tired smile and touched his hat. I gave him a smile and a nod as I stepped out past him. My legs were a little shaky as I realised if I'd been 30 seconds slower, he'd have seen me topless. If I'd not cum from a single touch, he might have caught me masturbating.

In minutes I was buried under my bedding with my fingers buried inside me running fantasy after fantasy through my head. Me being caught by the inspector and on my knees begging not to be charged for my misbehaviour. I saw myself sucking him off, then on my hands and knees in the middle of the carriage as he fucked me from behind.

Or he dragged me off to be locked up in an office as he consulted with colleagues over what to do with me. I think you can guess where my thoughts were going here. I used my mouth and pussy to win them over to let me off with a caution.

In the morning, I got onto the train feeling tired from how long I'd stayed up to masturbate, but still happy from the orgasms. It was only when I sat, that I panicked as I remembered the note he'd given me. I glanced around uselessly, forgetting it was a different carriage, and they all got cleaned every night.

Then I found the note in my pocket. I must have shoved it there without remembering it. I wasn't surprised when I read it.

"No panties." was the instruction. I shivered as I knew I'd do it.

At this stage I doubted I'd say no to anything he told me to do. Something about submitting to an older man did things to me. Overriding sense or the need to be attracted to him.

Part 7

On Thursday I got a break at work. My boss wasn't in and the girl in charge let me leave 10 minutes early. At the station I slipped into the ladies and slipped off my panties. Feeling very vulnerable and exposed. I'd gone out without underwear before, but never in such a short skirt. After twisting around and bending over, I managed to confirm you couldn't see anything from usual types of movements.

I was leaking already and flushed as I checked myself in the mirror. Only to get a flash of disappointment that I was in a t-shirt. On a whim I whipped it off and removed my bra. A train pulling into the station caused a pressure wave in the air and the door to the platform opened partially. I froze as I was topless and the fear/excitement of being seen hit me hard.

Putting my t-shirt back on and pressing my underwear into my bag. I headed to the train and regretted my choices as a few eyes lingered on me. The weather was unseasonably warm, and I'd not brought a jacket. Braless, my nipples bored through my t-shirt, and I knew everyone would notice.

Trying to ignore the stares, I took my usual seat and tried to avoid looking at my stranger. From the corner of my eyes, I saw him looking and looking extremely pleased with himself. But as the journey started, I realised with the extra attention on me we couldn't start our game until we were alone. The elderly lady kept looking in my direction.

The best I could manage was letting my leg open a little, without making it too obvious. And I was sure he couldn't tell if I'd followed his instructions or not. However, the moment the train pulled out of the station, and we were alone, I opened my legs wide showing him everything.

A waft of the scent of my arousal burned into my nostrils and my hand automatically came down to check how badly I'd leaked. He smiled at me and made a gesture with his pen I didn't get right away. I pointed at the ground in front of him. Was he wanting me to kneel? And if he did, I'd eagerly accept his cock in my mouth. So much so I was salivating at the idea.

Then I realised he wanted me to stand in front of him. Like I had when we'd first met. I stood in front of him and gripped the overhead straps to steady myself, as he reached around me to grope my bum.

Looking out at the night sky I could make out the silhouettes of buildings and then trees. Finding a growing wish that more people could see me now. He gripped the hem of my skirt and pulled it up to my waist. Then tucked it in to keep it there and me exposed.

I was sure I was leaking down my leg as he studied my pussy from 30cm [12 inches] away. His nostrils flared as he detected my scent, and my legs weakened. Fortunately, I was holding myself up with my hands. Then he reached out and pulled my shirt up. Not only expose my breasts. But up until it was over my head.

Seeing my reflection naked in public. My skirt was barely a belt and everything was on display. I couldn't believe how horny I was.

Fortunately for my sanity, he leant in and locked his mouth on one breast and caressed the other. I thought I was in heaven until his other hand slipped up my thigh and his fingers pressed against my pussy.

Then he reached out and patted the seat next to him. Did he want me to sit there? But it became clear as he reached for my closest knee and pulled. So, I placed my foot there and left myself open for whatever he wanted to do.

His fingers were inside me in an instant and I was panting and moaning in no time at all. We only had minutes before his stop, and we had no time for a slow build up. He fingered me quickly and milked my nipples with his mouth and tongue.

I doubt we'd gone half way between stops when I orgasmed hard and barely managed to hold on to the straps without falling on my arse. He sensed this and reached out and gently lowered me to the seat next to his. He helped fix my clothing as I was out of it temporarily and then raised his girl-goo covered fingers for me to see as he licked them clean.

Feeling intensely like I needed to repay him, I reached over and grasped him through his pants. He let out a gasp and a little moan as I felt the heat emanating from his mighty shaft. I was about to unzip him, when he stopped me with a sad shake of his head. He nodded towards the front of the train as if to say we had no time.

And he was right of course. I wondered about following him home. But that would make reality intrude on our special time together. I'd no idea if he had a wife or anything at home. And my parents would freak out if I didn't turn out without prior warning.

Fate was against me on my next two trips. Despite preparing myself by divesting myself of underwear. It seemed my stranger had succumbed to the bout of colds that was going around. When I finally saw him, if I was a puppy I'd have wagged my tail silly. Especially as at least half of the train regulars were missing.

The elderly couple not being there doubled our playtime together, and I sat on my bench opposite him. My shirt pushed up and my pussy on display as I played with myself. I was loving the attention, but I needed to see him. My fantasies were suffering as I'd no idea what his cock looked like.

So, I jumped up about half way throughout time and unzipped him. And pulled it out into the harsh train light. He looked a little worried, but I was mesmerised at the sight. Not as big as I'd imagined but respectable all the same. His grey pubic hair was a reminder of his age. But to me it just reaffirmed the taboo of what we were doing.

Technically I might be young enough to be his granddaughter, but I was thinking of myself as his personal slut step daughter. I sat next to him and pulled his fingers to my ever hungry pussy. Then reached over to stroke him.

After just a few minutes he started to speed up fingering me and I knew we were running out of time and sped up myself. Causing him to grunt and explode all over my hand as the train pulled into his station.

He jumped up and grabbed his stuff and nearly forgot to tuck himself away before hurrying from the train. Leaving me a little miffed that he got to cum, and I'd not. So, I lay back on the bench and watched his cum smeared over my hand. It looked slimy and wasn't a pleasant smell. But I was fascinated, and for some reason found myself smearing it over my pussy and working it inside my pussy wishing it was put there directly from the source.

Part 8

I made a decision that was bad, but I knew it was what I wanted. On our next trip, I changed into a summery dress and nothing else but sandals. Pleased that the cold outbreak wasn't abating as we were alone on the train for 3 complete stations.

Unlike last time where I'd exposed myself and touched myself for our mutual pleasure. This time I walked over to him and removed his pants and underwear. I was delighted to find he was hard and ready as we had longer than usual, but wasting time was bad.

I knelt on my bag and kissed it, then eagerly sucked it for a minute or so. But while he might have been happy with that, I was not. Leaving me dissatisfied the last time had irked me and I was determined it wouldn't happen again.

Standing I waited until I had his complete attention and pulled my dress up and off. Tossing it aside a little theatrically, I was naked but for my shoes. Gripping the overhead straps, I stepped up on to the seat on either side of him. He grabbed my bum and pulled me up and forward and planted a kiss on my freshly shaved pussy.

While I loved that I had other plans. And pulled back from him and lowered myself toward his aching and shiny cock. His eyes widened as my lower lips kissed the tip of his cock. Then he reached out and gripped the shaft to allow me to impale myself on it.

His hands gripped my arse to help raise and lower myself as I fucked him. With my arms extended as far as I could, I couldn't get him more than half way inside. But it felt so good. I'd waited far too long to get a real one inside me again.

I had to work out some way to get around my parents. Get a boyfriend and fuck regularly. I realised I was distracting myself to ignore how tired my arms and legs were getting in this position. Then my hands slipped, and I fell.

Impaling myself up to the hilt on him and gasping at how deep it felt. Fortunately for both of us he caught me before I could fall back and potentially snap his dick off.

After a moment I sorted my legs out and wrapped my arms around his neck and started to fuck him hard and fast. His hand gravitated to my nipples and squeezed and pulled on them as if he could read my needs perfectly.

In my head was a countdown to his stop and we fucked with greater urgency. I wasn't letting him off the train unless I climaxed tonight. His hand shifted lower and brushed my clit and I knew I was close.

Staring into his eyes, communicating silently our mutual need to cum. He started to thrust erratically, and I felt him cum deep inside me and I let out a loud wail as I orgasmed myself. Faster than I'd like he lifted me off him and dressed. Then kissed me deeply and grabbed his stuff and left the train.

I looked around in alarm, I was naked with cum running down my leg and I couldn't see my dress. Had he somehow managed to steal it away? But I saw it had fallen out of sight. I dressed and sat to think.

Without conscious planning I'd fucked my stranger on the last night train I'd be taking for more than a month. University was breaking for the summer, and I'd not see him. I wish I'd spoken to him, but we'd not said a word since our first encounter and that was part of the magic. I just hoped he realised why he wasn't seeing me and didn't think I regretted what we'd done.

Part 9

The summer passed and all too soon autumn arrived, and I went back for my final year at university. I felt surprisingly down when I took the night train home, and my stranger wasn't on it. Had he moved or... Well, there could be many reasons for him not to be there.

Looking out of the window and recalling what I'd done a few months ago. It was hard to believe it was real despite being there the whole time. Fucking a stranger on a train was not how anyone who knew me would think of 'Emi'. Or masturbating for the CCTV cameras. I shivered at the memory and wondered if I'd do that again now, I'd have 2 stations worth of travel alone.

But I was wrong.

About half way there and with my head locked into my fantasies I saw feet in front of me.

"Emi?" The youth said.

"Ren!" I replied as I saw a boy I'd spend years sitting next to in junior school. "What are you doing here?"

"My parents decided to move back to 'the graveyard' after my grandmother passed away."

"I'm sorry."

"She was old, and I think she was suffering towards the end. So how are you? Anything new?"

If only you knew, I thought. But we chatted and fell into old patterns. We'd been friends before the spectre of boy/girl things cropped up. We spoke easily, and he walked me home as he lived less than 5 minutes from my place.

Over the next few months, I looked forward to meeting up with him. He'd been a skinny little thing when younger, but now filled out, he was quite handsome. But hadn't seemed to realise it. Self-deprecating and funny. Eager to make fun of himself and mime out some silly situation that he'd gotten himself into.

Because we now had about 30 minutes as the only people on the train, we got a little silly. Tossing a fluffy toy between us and having to reveal an embarrassing secret about someone we knew. Or the time when he produced a full picnic, and we ate in a blanket on the floor. Food and drink were strictly prohibited on the train.

I noticed he was checking me out and I made a bit of an effort to dress to impress. With my stranger gone I was missing the excitement from those few short weeks when I'd gone insane and done things I never expected to do.

One evening I was lying on the bench with my head on his lap. He was telling me a story about colleague who had locked himself outside his apartment naked. I laughed and got a tingle as I saw his eyes drawn to my wobbling breasts.

Then Ren surprised me by admitting he knew about my girlhood fantasy about the headmaster. I blushed and demanded to know how. It turned out my so-called friend had told others and at least half the school knew. I was mortified.

Then Ren, who could never read the mood of the room, teased me that I'd have fainted if I'd been locked out naked like his friend. Well, that irked me and got my back up at the same time. Pointing out we weren't kids anymore, and he hardly knew me. When he challenged me for doing anything wild, when I'd been such a good girl.

I snapped and told him that I'd allowed an older man to unbutton my blouse and look at my breasts on this very train. Not 100% accurate, but close enough. He didn't believe me, and I said it was his loss if he was too chicken to find out. That was right out of our school yard playbook. 'Chicken' was a serious insult.

Ren bit his lower lip in concentration and looked between my face and my breasts. Then as I'd hoped he moved his hands to hover over the top button on my blouse. Then claimed it was all my fault as he unbuttoned it and seemed to wait. Expected me to explode, shout at him or slap his hands away.

When I didn't, he reached for the next.

"All the way, wasn't it?" He asked, and I just smiled up at him.

After all the buttons were undone, he reached for the cloth and slipped it open. As if he was handling an unexploded bomb. The look on his face was all I could have wanted. I glanced down and was pleased I'd chosen one of the prettiest bras. And from this angle the smooth pale slopes of my breasts looked huge.

Ren started babbling about how amazing I was. How I'd always been popular at school and one of the smartest. And now this. I was the complete package. I replied he was only saying that as I had big boobs. And reached up to wobble them for him. He let out a groan, and I sniggered.

Then I jumped up. Put my hands on the bench behind on either side of his head and leant in until my boobs were only a couple of hands span from his face. I jiggled them and leant in. Whispering that the old man had not only seen them in the flesh but had touched them.

Ren let out a moan and admitted he was so jealous. Feeling wicked and playful I said he might get the chance if he was nice to me. Like if he brought me another train picnic.

Of course, on the next train, he had a large bundle with him. I whispered I'd been joking, and he looked so sad. Saying at least we could have a nice picnic. But I corrected him. Saying I'd been joking about the picnic, but not the other thing.

For the first part of the trip, I found it amusing and exciting that Ren was so worked up at the chance to see and touch my breasts. He couldn't hide the bulge in his pants even as he tried. It made me both excited and feel powerful. It was different from the stranger as I felt more in charge.

I sniggered with the eagerness Ren set out our picnic barely after the train had moved from the station and left us alone. We only had a little over 30 minutes, so we knelt, and I snatched up a mouth sized sandwich. As I popped it into my mouth, I casually unbuttoned the top button on my blouse. And watched amused as Ren nearly missed his mouth looking at me in anticipation.

Five more bite sized sandwiches and five more buttons. Leaving my blouse hanging open. I leant forward for a savoury bite and did two things. One was to part my legs wide so he could see up my skirt and tug my blouse fully open.

Much as I was loving the look on his face and the teasing, I needed more and needed to feel the bulge in his pants. I gestured he should sit, and I leapt onto his lap grinding myself down on his bulge and thrusting my breasts against him.

Ren couldn't believe his luck and sat there overwhelmed until I tilted his head to kiss me. It broke the spell, and his hand grasped my hips, then down to my bum. Cheekily reaching under my short skirt to fondle my cheeks through my panties.

With my arms around his neck, I leant back and caught his eyes before looking down. Reminding him his treat was to see and touch my breasts. He ducked his head forward and down and planted a kiss high on one breast. Before his hands worked around me to cup my breasts in his palms.

He let out a sign of satisfaction that mirrored my silent one. I ran my fingers through his hair and leant in for another kiss.

Time lost all meaning as we kissed and made out. His thumbs did wonderful things to my nipples, without even trying to undo my bra. His cock was upright, and I was grinding my pussy against it. Fighting my urges to get naked and fuck him then and there.

I knew then we would at some point, and soon. But I didn't want to scare him off too quickly. And while I loved my secret name for myself as a train slut, it wasn't one I wanted to share with others. Not yet.

Ren, being the ever thoughtful Ren, had set a geolocation alarm on his phone. Giving up 3 minutes warning before we arrived at our station. Neither of us wanted to stop, but we had to pack up the picnic. And belatedly I reminded myself to refasten my blouse and pull my skirt down to a reasonable position.

We arrived at the station and left the train. My heart skipped a beat as I saw that train inspector walking down the platform to us. He yawned and wished us a good night. Ren walked me to my house, and we kissed a little. But I still wanted more. And I ran my hand over his erection before he left me alone.

In the morning, I knew I had to talk to him and tell him what really happened with the old stranger on the train. I needed him to know more about my dark side if we were going to continue this relationship. And I needed to tell someone as it was driving me crazy. The worst outcome was he and I went our separate ways. The plus side was...

I shivered and tried to press the trapdoor closed on the dark fantasies trying to escape my deviant imagination.

I arranged to meet him on Saturday morning in the park half way between our homes. But the weather was bad, and we went to a cafe. However, it was too packed and busy to talk about what I wanted to talk about without someone overhearing.

Ren suggested we take the train a few stops down the line. To a larger town on the edge of a lake. So, it felt odd to ride the train on a Saturday. It was a lot busier with shoppers than my late night trains, and we got off at the town where that elderly couple used to get off. We walked part way around the lake and found a bandstand that was covered and sat to talk.

It was amazingly hard to start, but Ren sat and listened intently. Not interrupting more than once or twice.

"So, it started when you showed him your panties?"

"Not on purpose that first time. And after that he just seemed to have an aura of authority."

"Like your headmaster fantasy?" He grinned, and I blushed. But pushed through.

After all, what happened in reality on the train was far more than what felt like a childish fantasy. At least the one he knew about.

Once I started, I blurted out everything, but that we'd actually had sex. And I left it that we watched each other masturbating instead of that we'd done it to the other person.

Ren was silent for minutes after I finished deep in thought. And if he wasn't as hard as rock in his pants, I'd have thought he was thinking the worst of me. He let out a long sign and ran his hands through his hair. Making me think of him when he was 10.

He stood up suddenly and moved to stand directly in front of me. His erection at face height.

"Let me get this straight. You cooperated with his silent instructions because you loved him being in charge?" I nodded, but my eyes were locked on something I really wanted right in front of me. "You liked the taboo and the risk of getting caught. Including touching yourself in front of the camera."

I nodded again and inadvertently licked my lips.

"So, you'd do what I told you?" I looked up surprised and smiled.

He glanced around, but we were alone.

"Touch it." He ordered, but it was half a question. But it was close enough for me.

I leant in and rubbed my cheek against his bulge. Nuzzling before pulling back a little and kissing the end. If there weren't so many people on bicycles. I'd have done more.

"Now do you believe me?"

"Mostly. Stand up." I stood, and he spun me around.

Pressed against my back and fondled my bum. He pressed his mouth to my ear and whispered.

"Unzip the front of your jeans." I glanced around, but I was already unzipping my coat and then my jeans.

Ren reached around me and to my surprise slipped his fingertips inside the top of my panties. I stiffened and thrust my hips out at him and his finger expertly found my clit. Then pressed deeper and extracted his fingers. I blushed as I saw how gooey his finger was. Proving how worked up I was.

We headed back to the train and sat pressed up against each other. Against the crush of bodies of people going home from the Saturday shopping. Ren would whisper suggestions in my ear. About the things we'd do. But in such a way that anyone overhearing wouldn't guess. Except, perhaps, from my blushed appearance.

Part 10

While Ren wasn't the master of control that my stranger had been. He tried, and I was already always worked up before we had a chance to play. I'd got down to a fine art slipping into the ladies, either at work, or at the station to remove my underwear. And would flash Ren across the carriage until we were alone.

Then he'd yank up my skirt and fondle my bum and finger my pussy. Sometimes he'd have me stand on the bench and hang on to the straps as he held my arse while licking my pussy. We alternated between who got the most pleasure. As I'd strip naked and suck him eagerly.

He figured out how worked up I got without clothes and would toss my skirt to one end of the train and the top to the other. Forcing me to walk slowly to get both and dress in the last few seconds before the train stopped at our station.

While I loved it, especially if we saw the train inspector, I still needed more.

After the 3rd or 4th blow job I knew it was not enough. Ren was more than happy to finger me and eat me with enthusiasm. But my mind kept digging into darker fantasies. Fearing I'd go crazy, I dragged Ren to the park in our town after we'd got off the train.

It was about 11:30 at night and the park was a single path around a square of grass surrounded by trees and shrubs. Nobody else was about, but that didn't mean we'd not see dog walkers. But I pulled Ren to the back of the park, to a bench under a broken street light.

We were in the shadows, but still visible from the road. Although I was sure nobody could recognise us. I knew from my childhood that there was a secret path through the trees that took you out onto another street. So, we could retreat if we had to.

Ren of course was oblivious to all this and whispered complaints as I removed his trousers and underwear. He stood semi hard as I stripped completely. Resting my clothes on the bench then kneeling and presenting my bum and more to him.

To this point we'd not gone as far as fucking and I was screaming for release from a real life cock inside me. I adored sucking him and swallowing his cum. But that wasn't what I needed right now.

And Ren, whatever feelings he had about being exposed like this, wasn't about to miss this opportunity. He pressed up against me and then in a firm thrust pressed all the way inside me. I covered my mouth to avoid making too much noise.

I knew we had to be quick. Not only was to avoid being caught, but it bloody cold. I saw two dog walkers, but they were on the other side of the road and with their hoods up against the cold. I was both glad and disappointed that we'd not been seen. And all too soon Ren spurted inside me, and I shivered as my orgasm hit me.

The nastiness that I'd just done that was the delicious icing on the cake of the debauchery we'd just performed. Feeling his cum on my thigh caused me to smile at the icing comment, as I slipped into my clothes. Ren dressed and for once I walked him to his house as he was spaced out at what we'd just done.

As I headed home, I knew I'd scratched that itch for now. But for how long?

The End

[The idea for this story popped into my head, fairly complete around Christmas 2022. And while I started to write it and made many notes for the progression. It sat stagnant for a long time. I'd only written about 4,000 words of the actual story. But the notes removed the future creativity, and it became almost a chore to write another 10,000 words to finish it.

I believe in keeping a story within arm's reach of reality. It's the doubts, and the natural insecurities we all feel that allows me to build up the tension in the stories. Doing something that is so out of character for that extra taboo.

With over 700k words published and twice that incomplete. I am always looking for comments and feedback to maximise the potential of a story. Which is why I always plead for comments to prove what I write is working.]