Carriage 4 - Return Call - Lily #5

Note: This is a continuation of "The Shift in Carriage 4 -- Lily #4", where an older man entered the carriage and turned the tables on Lily.

It had been three days since my Carriage 4 experience with him, the "Older Man", as I like to put it, and I sat in my office staring at the card he had left.

The experience of being fucked on the carriage by the stranger still resonated with me.

He made me stand up and strip, then blindfolded me.

He made me put my hands on the train seat, my ass in the air, touched me and fucked me.

Yes, I had cum, and it felt good feeling his hard cock inside me. He even filled me and walked out on me, his cum running down my legs as I stood there in shock.

It was, though, fucking hot, there was no doubting it, but I didn't like losing control.

I'm the one who instigates things, whether it's a man, a woman, or a couple; I'm the one who wants to control. Last time, the tables were turned on me.

And I've never experienced that before.

To top it all, he knew my name even though I never told him.

I took the courage and dialled the mysterious number, but why are my hands shaking so much?

The phone was answered: "I wondered how long it would take", the unmistakable voice coming down the line.

I froze, silent, for a moment, then spoke.

"I didn't call before, I wasn't sure, but I needed to know, how do you know my name?".

I continued, my voice more rushed now. "You knew me. On that train. You looked at me like you'd seen behind everything, behind my barriers."

He exhaled slowly. "Because I have."

I stood up and walked to my office window, watching the street below, voice tight.

"How?"

"You've been on that train every Friday night, the midnight train," he said.

"You sit in the same carriage. Usually alone. Sometimes you read, but you never turn more than three pages. You wait."

"You've followed me," I replied

"No," he said. "I watched. Once. And then I wondered. Who waits like that?"

"I wait," I said, "because I like what comes when people think they're unobserved."

"And yet," he said, "This time, you were the one observed."

"What do you want from me?" I asked, sounding frantic.

"I want to see what happens," he said.

"Happens?", I replied

"How do you handle things when the tables turn against you? You can't have it all your way, you know, and I will get off seeing how this unfolds".

He finished with "I've done this with others, it's your turn now, but you will like it."

I hung up, totally unsure about myself now. That was a mistake calling him, whoever he was.

I need to put him out of my mind, but how?

He had taken me, cum inside me, exposed me, and then left me.

I had lost control.

The following Friday, I sat in my usual place in Carriage 4.

My legs crossed, a low-cut dress and making sure it rode up, showing my legs. The familiar feeling of anticipation was back.

The midnight train moved along like it always did, but it was a cooler night, the air was clear, and in the window, I could make out the full moon.

The train stopped, and in came a face I was familiar with, Sasha!

We had an encounter not so long back and remembered how nervous she was at first, holding hands but also playful and after a hot kiss, I remembered Sasha's boldness as she pushed my underwear to one side and slipped her fingers inside me.

I also remembered her breasts, those hard, sexy nipples in my hands, but the train had stopped too soon and the look of disappointment on her face when I had to leave.

I had enjoyed that, leaving her wanting more. Was that bad of me?

She stepped into Carriage 4, a subtle grin tugging at her lips the moment she saw me. "You again!"

I smiled. "You missed me?", my confidence coming back.

"Maybe."

She sat beside me, close enough to remind me of our last encounter.

We hadn't spoken since, never set eyes on each other, and I doubted we would ever again.

Some people might have found it awkward. We didn't.

I leaned into her; it was good to see her, and I held her hands in mine.

"I wish we could have exchanged numbers", she said.

"It's not what I do, it's about chance, and encounters and excitement", I replied.

Sasha held my face with her hands and gave me a long kiss, passionate, deep. Our tongues teasing, she was biting my lip gently, sending shockwaves through my body.

There it was. That feeling of excitement.

I couldn't help myself as my hand slid under her top. I needed to feel those supple breasts in my hands, the way her nipples hardened for me.

I pulled her top off, removed her lacy bra, and placed my mouth over her nipples as my tongue swirled and flicked across her nipples.

I was wet, and by instinct, I felt Sasha pull my dress up and expose me, her hands on my underwear before I felt her fingers slide underneath.

My pussy was wet, I was aching for her, and then her fingers inside me.

I lay back, hiking my skirt up and instructing her to get on her knees in front of me. I needed to feel her mouth, her tongue on me. I wanted to take back control.

She didn't hesitate, she parted my pussy with her fingers then went down on me, greedily taking and tasting my wet pussy, her tongue slipping inside me before moving up and around my clit.

I moaned out as the excitement rushed over me, my hands on her hair, tugging at her hair, then pulling her up, standing up with her and kissing her again, tasting myself on her lips and mouth.

I pushed her forward onto the seat in front, hiked up her dress, her ass on display for me, and she surprised me with no underwear as I bent down behind her and started eating her out.

She tasted amazing, as I then stood up with my hand on her back and fucking her with my fingers.

I leaned over and told her she would cum for me, and she nodded enthusiastically as my fingers slid in and out and my thumb entered her ass.

I then pulled her up with her hair, turned her around and pushed her onto the seat.

I pulled my dress down and made her suck my tits, pushing her head against me.

"Suck my nipples hard, Sasha."

The train started to slow down, and an announcement of another stop was imminent.

We had no idea if we were still to have the carriage to ourselves or not after the stop, so we kissed once more, gasping for breath.

We both stood up and rearranged ourselves, and sat back down just as the doors opened.

And he stepped in.

The air shifted.

"Hello, Lily", the man said.

Sasha tensed. "You know him?"

I glanced sideways. "Yes."

She didn't respond.

Her eyes didn't leave him as he made his way down the aisle, eventually choosing a seat directly across from us.

He met Sasha's gaze briefly. Said nothing. But something passed between them.

A glance not of strangers.

"You know him, too," I said.

She nodded, barely.

"From where?"

"A year ago. A different city. I -- I didn't know he was still following me"

And that's when I realised: the next game wasn't between him and me. It was all three of us.

Watching. Waiting. Wondering who would move first.

"Hello, Sasha, it's been a while", he said.

Sasha ignored him, stood up to move away.

"Sit down, Sasha, don't be a silly girl".

I interjected, "You've been watching me over the past week or two. What the fuck is going on?"

I continued: "And you, Sasha, what is it with him? Why did you look at him like he held something over you?"

Sasha turned, the mask slipping for just a moment. "He knew me when I didn't know myself. That's not power, Lily. That's danger."

He leaned forward. "It was never about power. It was always about choice. Who dares to stop pretending and be themselves."

I stared at both. My pulse steadied. "Then stop pretending."

A breathless quiet held us.

I reached out, slowly, brushing Sasha's fingers. Her eyes flicked to mine -- uncertain, charged, but she didn't pull away. For a heartbeat, we existed in that contact.

And when our lips met, soft, fleeting, it wasn't dominance. It wasn't provocation. It was something far more, a connection I never had before.

He didn't speak. He didn't interfere. He watched exactly as he had promised.

And in the silence after, we all understood: the next move didn't belong to any of us alone.

It belonged to whatever came next.