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Back to Stories and Fantasies

“The Lady on the Train”

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By *Excellent OP   Couple
over a year ago

Lincoln

It is 1997, I’m seventeen years old and on my way home. I’m sat in a train carriage doing what I always do; listening to my Discman and thinking about sex. Despite my overabundance of enthusiastic personality, I’m curiously shy around girls, never quite sure of what to say and prone to showing off. This has led to a strange imbalance throughout my teenage years. Girlfriendless and yet I don’t think I’m not too bad to look at. My father is terrified that I’m gay. My Mum says I’m handsome and of the two of them I trust her. I love women, but I understand this blatant unfuckability has to be about more than looks. I’m fairly certain people mistake my seeming overconfidence as arrogance, but I am my own harshest critic. They cannot know what goes on inside my head, and if I told them they would say I was overthinking.

The train stops at East Croydon and my _usic reaches Mindfields I know full well there’s a tiny scratch on my Fat of the Land CD, so it’s just about to jam up and start skipping. I fiddle with the buttons, jumping across to Narayan and when my head comes up again to survey the carriage, she… is there.

I don’t know her name, I just know that I’ve seen her on this train about a dozen times before, and she gets off at my home town of Hurst Green. She occupies that space in a woman’s life where she could be 30, 40 or 50 but the years themselves don’t matter, what she has that so many of the girls my own age seem to lack is a palpable self-confidence. She knows who she is. She dresses to accentuate that, and always seems so comfortable in her own skin.

My eyes have lingered for a fraction of a second and I shift them away. I do NOT want to look like a creep, even though all the thoughts rushing through my head seem to point in that direction. However, as my brief gaze left her, she glanced at me and I can now feel her look. She has librarian glasses, long dark hair with a streak of silver she wears with pride. Behind those glasses are green eyes I have caught once or twice and always smiled politely, as though stepping aside to give her space to move through a doorway. But right now, those eyes are on me.

I shuffle a little in my seat as I can feel myself getting hard. I stare out of the window, watching the brown brick walls stained with train-soot drift by, and I take in her form with just the edge of my peripheral vision. She is wearing a knee-length, light cream coat, (far too elegant to be wandering around Croydon in), a black blouse, a very slender necklace with what might be a single black pearl nestling in her suprasternal notch just below her throat. She shifts her position and as I incline my head, seemingly fascinated by a tall glass tower framed by a stormy, grey sky, I can make out the knee-length black skirt with a long split up the side as she crosses her legs. Is her knee pointed in my direction? That means something doesn’t it? Either she’s interested in me or I make her nervous… of course most probably she’s just getting comfortable and I in no way have influenced her movements.

There was a flash of something there though. In the crossing I caught sight of the lacy tops of her black stockings and just above that, the tanned skin of her thigh. I catch a subtle wave of her scent and catch my breath. I cannot stop my brain from going where it goes as I imagine stroking my hand up and down those legs, looking into those eyes, lightly brushing the satin with my fingertips which glide upwards to the opening of her skirt.

Oh god, now I definitely have a pulsing erection. I can’t get her out of my head. I steal a glance at those darkly made-up lips to see them ever so slightly twist into a smirk. There is a roll of thunder and rain begins to clatter down outside our train.

I sigh, thinking about the mile I have to walk home from the station and pray for this storm to blow itself out by then. Twenty minutes later my prayers have not been answered, the carriage has slowly emptied at every stop and my hard-on has gone nowhere. I have tried to not look her way, but this mysterious lady has seemingly enjoyed herself over that time. She has been reading a paperback called “Seduction of the Minotaur” by someone named “Anais Nin”. A bar of dark chocolate sits upon the chair beside her, and occasionally, without adjusting her eyeline from the book she has reached down her left hand, and skilfully, broken off a piece with her maroon nail varnished fingers, raising the chocolate to her lips with deliberation, and chewed thoughtfully, each time sighing ever so slightly. I have never wanted to BE chocolate so much in my life.

Fat of the Land reaches the end and I swap it for Ten by Pearl Jam. Far more flustered as I root around in my bag. When I finally look up again, my heart skips a beat. In front of me, she has shifted position once again, and while her gaze is still locked inside her paperback, her left hand has extended towards me, with the last piece of chocolate, nestled in what remains of the wrapping.

There is a beat. Is this a test? Is it ruder for me to decline or take what is offered? Pearl Jam are playing Once too loudly in my ears as I raise my own hand. I take the plunge and reach for the chocolate and the moment that happens her eyes jump to mine, a catlike expression of satisfaction. I grin too broadly, feel my cock twitch and thank her as I take the chocolate, feeling every bit like Edmund sat next to The White Witch, as she compresses the paper and foil into a tight ball. I raise the dense little block to my mouth and I can ever so slightly taste something beyond chocolate there. Almost imperceptibly a slight exotic undercurrent. I realise I can taste her fingers and I shiver.

The rain beats down as we reach Hurst Green. Nobody else is left in the carriage. I try to maintain not glancing directly at her she trades her paperback for a short, maroon umbrella, ready to disembark into this deluge. I am nowhere near that prepared in my summer jacket, and I am about to get absolutely waterlogged. However, considering how exciting this journey has been I weigh up the day and come out at an absolute win!

“What did you do last night?” my friend Matt will ask tomorrow.

“Oh, I just had the most erotic shared moment of my entire life.” I will say, beaming.

“Oh my god, who did you get to fuck?” Matt will gasp.

“No fucking, but I *did* get to eat a piece of chocolate.”

Matt will stare at me. I will stare back.

“We’re going.” He will announce.

“Where?”

“Safeway. I’m going to get you a massive bar of Dairy Milk, you horny bastard.”

I am smiling to myself as I stand up to leave the carriage. This astonishing lady stands at the same time, I could almost swear she did this on purpose. My brain oscillates between the contextual “Of course she got up now, this is her stop. People stand up to get off trains, you clod.” to “Yeah, but she could either have gotten up before you or after you.” And now, standing, we are within a foot of one another as the train slows. I am in her space and worried once more that I am making her nervous or intimidating her. It only now becomes apparent how much taller than her I am.

Once more, I don’t know where to look. I stare at the carriage door, willing the train to finally stop, but at the exact same time, yearning for this moment not to end. I am aware her face is upturned and she is looking at me. I breathe in her perfume. There is a spicy, fruity miasma to it that has me quite befuddled. I am trying to keep the front of my jeans covered with my bag so that she is not confronted with this tumescent evidence of my extreme attraction to her.

The train stops, with a shake, she teeters ever so slightly in my direction, as though if she’s going to fall, it’s going to be into me. I brace myself to catch her, but the fall doesn’t happen. She noticed this for sure. I lean to one side and open the door. Unfortunately, we are far up the train enough to be way beyond the sheltered station roof, so I am opening the door to a torrid wall of water.

I step out and am immediately drenched. I hold the door open for her and she slowly… deliberately… takes her time stepping down onto the platform, raising her umbrella to shield herself until she stands, not a speck of moisture evident, glancing across to the car park. Then without a word she stalks off that way, her high heels clacking audibly in between the raindrops. I look back into the train and see the conductor staring off in her direction as well, his eyes on the hems of those stockings. I close the door and hurry away as the train moves on.

As I struggle through the blitz, barely able to see in the gathering dark, I can feel water everywhere. My socks, between my toes, sliding cold fingers into my jeans, slapping the back of my neck, stinging my eyes and battering my ears. I almost don’t notice when an Alfa Romeo pulls up alongside the pathway, headlights on. It is maroon. The passenger window rolls down and there she is, one hand on the steering wheel, looking at me intently over those librarian glasses with those intense green eyes. I stop walking and stand there, saturated as the rain beats down and our eyes lock together with a powerful wave of venturing and acceptance. She studies my bedraggled form and says two words that will change my life…

“Get in.”

End of Part 1

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By *avidgeorge68Man
over a year ago

wakefield

well you have me desperately awaiting part 2!

fantastic story ta

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By *adyinred696969Couple
over a year ago

Brecon

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By *aChingMan
over a year ago

Ipswich

Love it so far, can relate to most of it however, you should be taken outside at shot a dawn for alowing that FOTL cd to get scratched

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By *atty and RattyCouple
over a year ago

coningsby

Great start.

Looking forward to the next installment

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By *ipplebarnyMan
over a year ago

milton keynes

I will have to read later

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By *obshortMan
over a year ago

Cork

Great story. Waiting here for the next installment.

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By *itboyslim2Man
over a year ago

stevenage

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By *rgar27Man
over a year ago

Bognor Regis

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

I must say you have a talent for writing. Very vivid and engaging.

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By *athytvsubTV/TS
over a year ago

Bulwell, Nottingham

Hope there is more soon xx

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Fantastically descriptive detail painting vivid mental images

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By *lay-with-MeMan
over a year ago

Whitchurch Shropshire

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By *ogloverMan
over a year ago

Worstead

I echo previous comments, superbly descriptive writing. Waiting for next instalment.

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By *J GeminiTV/TS
over a year ago

Northumberland

Cracking ,

Xx

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Fabulous

Well written

Can’t wait for next chapter

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By *rinwin69Man
over a year ago

STOCKPORT

Superb, can't wait for more x

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By *j and c 2Couple
over a year ago

mullingar

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By *cottish guy 555Man
over a year ago

London

You write very well

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By *eajayTV/TS
over a year ago

Tamar Valley

Perfect start, thank-you x

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By *ndrea54TV/TS
over a year ago

cambridge

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By *unningtongueMan
over a year ago

Seahouses

Wow! What a fabulous, well written, highly erotic tale… I cannot wait for the next instalment.

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By *cotty909Man
over a year ago

tranent

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By *dward_TeagueMan
over a year ago

wolverhampton

What a fantastic start!

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By *ynamo301Man
over a year ago

North West

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By *londiecd747Man
over a year ago

bristol

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By *r P1957Man
over a year ago

Shoeburyness

More please

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

That was excellent, very well written.

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By *1sexypairCouple
over a year ago

Retford

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By *ilcan5328Man
over a year ago

swansea

Fck this is hot please carry on soon dont let me wait x

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By *eterpervisMan
over a year ago

back where i came from

Fantastic well written and leaving enough to our imagination..

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By *evonFbsCouple
over a year ago

SIDMOUTH

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By *untooMan
over a year ago

manchester

Oh this could be brewing into a good story

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By *Excellent OP   Couple
over a year ago

Lincoln

(Thank you to everyone encouraging me to carry on and expressing your horniness for the words. That is the best way to get more out of me ) -Steve

-Part 2-

I am shivering.

My entire body trembles fitfully as I lower myself through the open door into her passenger seat. Up until ten seconds ago I had been physically fine, but now I am gripped by tremors. This is down to several converging factors. Firstly, the wetness. There is now not an inch of me that isn’t dripping with rain, and I am immediately concerned for her car seats (something she waves off without a thought). Secondly the chill has crept in on me as a result of the above. Thirdly, I have never, EVER done anything like this before. It is in fact the first time a woman has shown an overt interest in me… unless I’m grossly misreading the situation and all she is in fact doing is giving me a lift three quarters of a mile down the road. And the fourth reason is the sheer, unbridled excitement of being this close to her and not having a clue what will happen next.

No, that isn’t true. I do have *some* clue. My teenage years have been spent reading porn. Playboy proved too chaste, Razzle too grotty, Club, just about right. But as well as the extremely pretty girls, smiling back at me in the altogether as they lounged on beds and sofas, my favourite part were always the letters pages. Because you could imagine doing all kinds of things with the girls, but those letters gave form and focus to the possible potentials. They expanded my hypothetical repertoire.

The green-eyed lady isn’t looking at me, but is intent on seeing through the pouring rain as her wipers sweep back and forth. Some classical _usic I think is Mozart is playing on her car stereo. The interior smells magnificently of her, and my head is swimming.

It would be dishonest of me to consider myself a blushing novice like Christian Slater in The Name of the Rose (my VHS tape of that always went blurry and fuzzy as the tracking messed up from too many times rewinding to the 44-minute mark and that amazing sex scene in the kitchen). Far from it, my head was filled with depraved filth. I had taken on board vanilla sex as it had been described to me, and then read further into more kinky avenues, uncertain as I stroked myself to gasping orgasm in my evenings, as to whether I had accidentally picked up a fetish or two as the fireworks in my brain went off.

But all of that was inside. Outwardly I had almost no practice. So, when she slows down on my prompt to the right-turn that will lead to my street, both of us sit in an engaging silence.

Expectation crackles in the air as I clear my throat, her car sat humming in the road. To one side led mundanity at my house. Any minute now another car would be approaching from behind, I felt a sense of sudden tension. Was I being called upon to make a choice?

“I live a few miles that way,” she said cooly, not turning her head, but indicating with an extended finger. “Would you like me to drive you *home*?” Her participle was dangling, and she knew it.

A multitude of ways to respond paraded through the speech centre of my brain. Was it better under these circumstances to come off as mature and confident or the way out of his depth virgin I was? Do I use humour? Understatement? Exaggeration?

From the corner of my eye a grey VW Jetta appears, cresting the distant horizon behind us and making its way down the road. Any second now it will be nudging against our rear, beeping peevishly. The Maybe-Mozart _usic rises up. I have to decide right this instant.

She has spotted the other driver in her rear-view mirror. When I turn back, her face is close to mine. I drink in her scent. The silver curl of hair. Her neckline, the dangling pearl. She whispers into my ear.

“All you have to do is say yes,” she intones, huskily.

“Yes,” I blurt. Nowhere near as cool as I could have managed. But it makes her smile all the same. She guns her engine deliberately, disengages the handbrake and we leave my street and the Jetta behind.

***

The part of town she now drives us into is where the rich people lived. We pass long driveways, manicured lawns, electrical gates, pool houses, and she eventually comes to a halt beside one with slightly suggestive topiary. A tall bush has been given an elegant female form and this floral lady appears to be arching her back in ecstasy. Green-eyes turns the wheel and drives us inside, clicking a button on her keyring to command the garage doors to open up for her.

I follow my host through the internal door to her house as she finagles the burglar alarm code and the garage doors close slowly on the grey, sodden afternoon. Suddenly my hackles start to rise as I notice things she is making no effort to hide. There is space for a second car. As I walk I glance down a stairwell to a basement room and spot the edge of a Foosball table. When she shows me the first downstairs bathroom she hands me a “His” towel to dry my hair as I leave wet footprints in her hall. I glance at her right hand and almost kick myself for not noticing the glitter of a wedding ring before while she was reading. It is silver with a tasteful little diamond flanked by rubies that have been cut into swirling flames. As we pass through, just to the right of the stairs is a framed photograph of an older man leaning on the helm of a yacht. He is handsome, clad in an open shirt and rolled up chinos he knows he looks amazing in. His eyes are intense and he is sporting designer stubble. The way he holds himself reminds me of her. A confidence I can only dream of. I may be seventeen, but being around adults makes me feel too much like a child. I push this feeling down and try to get on top of it, walking with more purpose.

She hangs her long, cream coat in the cloakroom, steps into her kitchen, across white marble tiles, bends for a moment to unlatch the straps on her shoes and steps out of them. As she does this I am left with a lingering glimpse of her fabulous bottom, framed in black above her stocking tops. I try to control these trembles. They haven’t stopped. If anything, they are getting more powerful as I move on shaky legs, trying my very best to surreptitiously reposition my throbbing erection behind my belt-line so that it won’t jut out diagonally, like I have a courgette in my left pocket.

Now a few inches shorter she pads across the surprisingly warm floor in stockinged feet and leans against the grey granite countertop.

“He’s in Barcelona right now,” she says at last, answering my unspoken question. “We have an arrangement that entails he is allowed to pursue whomever he wishes while he’s away, provided that when he returns, he tells me all about it and we can… *reclaim* one another.”

“And you?” I ask, attempting nonchalance while my brain races at a thousand miles an hour. She smiles again and leans towards me.

“What do you think?” she coos.

“I… think it’s only fair if he affords you the same privilege,” I reply. This would have been smooth if my teeth weren’t chattering. This does not make me feel the least bit attractive.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” she says, her eyebrows arching in seemingly genuine concern. She flicks the glass kettle on and retrieves two mugs from the shelf. “You should use the shower,” she continues, indicating the larger, second downstairs bathroom out in the hall. I gratefully nod and peel off my jacket. It leaks rainwater over her tiles and that precise brow of hers now furrows. She crosses the kitchen far faster than I would expect her to move and far from being annoyed at the trip-hazards I am leaving in her home she taps the arm holding the jacket. I let it fall to the floor as her hands move to my chest.

“May I?” she asks, a serious tone to her voice as she declines to look into my eyes. She is almost shy now.

“Please do.” I breathe, and in that moment her fingers are at my collar buttons. Slowly she travels downward, undoing each one with precision as the kettle boils behind her. Reaching the last at my belt she spots me shifting uncomfortably to conceal my arousal. I don’t want to embarrass her, but conversely this brings another smile to her face as both hands pull my shirt open and over my shoulders, leaving it half draped down my exposed back. We hold for a moment as the kettle bubbles and clicks.

I reach behind myself to wrestle the soaked shirt off, only to see what she has steered me into. With my arms pinning themselves her left hand rises up to stroke over my chest, grazing my right nipple and travelling up to touch the back of my neck. Tiny little electrical pulses cross from her fingers to my damp, cold skin as my shivering intensifies. I am held frozen in place, unsure of whether to continue to take off the shirt and change the scenario, because I do *not* want this to end.

Then I feel her other hand. She has found my cock through my jeans, and again with the lightest of touches, traces a fingernail up the length of it. Now she looks up into my eyes and breathes softly with satisfaction, and what I am now fairly certain is arousal.

“Oh my!” she mutters, as two fingertips feel out my tip through the denim. I am ready to cum right there, and this intensifies as she leans upwards, lightly pulling my head downward to plant her lips on mine. Just once, gently, but firmly. I taste her mouth and my knees start to buckle. I cannot place the flavour, but hazelnut cream is my best descriptor. “Is this alright?” she whispers in my ear.

“It is so *very* alright,” I assure her, and she smiles through our second kiss.

“Good.”

“Why?” I stammer quietly. “Why me?”

“I might tell you later,” she replies, a playfulness entering her tone. “Now off to the shower with you.”

I catch my breath and for the first time in a while I am able to push through the shivers. I grin back and let the shirt drop, before scooping it up along with my jacket and carrying them through to the corridor, turning the wet pile in my arms as I go to prevent excessive dripping on her floor.

I step into the shower room to find it is exactly that. A big, green-tiled chamber with an enormous shower-head the size of a dinner plate suspended in the ceiling of one side. Drying rails stand across to the left, and I strip off my shoes, socks and jeans to hang my clothes over these.

I am standing in only my clinging shorts, a little uncertain. Just the act of removing this final barrier to absolute nakedness feels like a line is having to be crossed. I hook them up and over, freeing myself at last. Stroking myself for reassurance.

I glance at the door. I have not yet locked it, and I decide to leave it that way. Then I pace the warm, under-heated tiles over to the shower head and the simple controls. I am shivering again, but this stops when a boiling tropical rainstorm bursts above me and I groan in pleasure.

The one thought on my mind as I let this manmade rainstorm wash away the natural one, is what the hell does Green-eyes have in store for me when I am finally clean?

End of Part 2

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By *allye77Man
over a year ago

Leicestershire


"Love it so far, can relate to most of it however, you should be taken outside at shot a dawn for alowing that FOTL cd to get scratched "

Completely off topic but in full agreement...superb album

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By *allye77Man
over a year ago

Leicestershire

Very, very well written though OP. Looking forward to more of this

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By *ilbert4450Man
over a year ago

paisley

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By *cottish guy 555Man
over a year ago

London

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By *ilcan5328Man
over a year ago

swansea

Oh god dont stop now i cant wait i need more

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By *uju67123Woman
over a year ago

Kings lynn

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By *ton_maleMan
over a year ago

Shoreham

this is great

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By *J GeminiTV/TS
over a year ago

Northumberland

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

More more more please

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By *ndrea54TV/TS
over a year ago

cambridge

Fantastic OP and I was a club fan too, loved the Peaches section

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By *yrman57Man
over a year ago

Ayr

Intriguing introduction !!!

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By *lutaxiMan
over a year ago

Dundalk

Excellent read so well written

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By *adyinred696969Couple
over a year ago

Brecon

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By *ICKED WILLYMan
over a year ago

South Bucks

This is absolutely superb and extremely well written. I’m looking forward to the next instalment…

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By *eekskinkMan
over a year ago

north east

Wow this is special

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By *yTreacleMan
over a year ago

Winchester

Oh my!!

This is fabulous.

Part 3 soon, please

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By *ucksguy2000Man
over a year ago

aylesbury

Absolutely brilliant

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By *erc2Man
over a year ago

Wymondham

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By *ew man 1976Man
over a year ago

Limavady

First class op

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Absolutely. Love. This.

So well written!

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By *asseur_9Man
over a year ago

Ballymoney

Excellent reading , please continue .

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By *etsplay4real99Man
over a year ago

Plymouth

Loving this. Looking forward to more

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By *bdnhonestMan
over a year ago

Aberdeen

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By *untooMan
over a year ago

manchester

I’m loving this story too

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By *e Platypuss de ErotiqueMan
over a year ago

Bristol

Brilliant! And very well written. Looking forward to part 3.

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By *oss25Man
over a year ago

Flitwick and Fakenham

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By *immi300Man
over a year ago

grangmouth

Probably the best story I’ve read on

Here for a long time hope there’s more to come soon , not like some that stop midway through

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By *yceloonMan
over a year ago

Aberdeen

Absolutely superb......

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By *portbilly1976Man
over a year ago

manchester

Beautifully written…looking forward to more

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By *rgar27Man
over a year ago

Bognor Regis

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By *akbearMan
over a year ago

Newbury

Beautifully written, so hope there is lots and lots more to this.

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By *ynamo301Man
over a year ago

North West

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By *lutandhubbyCouple
over a year ago

west midlands

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By *dward_TeagueMan
over a year ago

wolverhampton

What a beautiful build up and so very well written too. Thank you OP

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By *xx_leatherMan
over a year ago

scunthorpe

Yes excellently written can’t wait for more

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By *londiecd747Man
over a year ago

bristol

Excellent,more please

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By *Excellent OP   Couple
over a year ago

Lincoln

-Part 3-

As I emerge from the wet room, a soft, white towel around my waist I can hear new _usic around the house. It is playing softly in every room. I love this enchanting voice, and the piano alternates between contemplative twinkling and passionate pounding (I later find out it is a collection of B-Sides from the single releases of the first three Tori Amos albums).

I wander the ground floor looking for the green-eyed lady, a second, smaller towel in my hand, which I use to diligently mop up the traces of wet puddles and footprints I have left in my wake.

“You’re so sweet,” a voice intones from just above and I realise she has been watching me from the top of the stairwell for quite some time.

“Left my clothes to dry,” I call out, unsure of how to steer the tone back in the direction it took in the kitchen. She descends the stairs, smiling again as the piano intensifies.

In other contexts, this pleasure I seem to be imbuing, merely with my presence would feel almost predatory. I’ve read plenty of stories where the foolish, horny teen boy is lured into a spider’s web. However, the look on her face, while most definitely hungry has a tinge of sadness about it as well.

“What is it?” I ask in clumsy fashion. As though someone like this is going to just unburden her heart to a complete stranger because they asked.

“It…” she chooses her words carefully and delivers them with relish “…is a good evening to be me.” She has had a shower herself, to wash the smoke of Croydon off her skin. Her makeup has been removed, her hair is wet and her face looks fresh, her eyes wide and observant behind those glasses. She is clad in a silk gown, dark, slate grey with tiny details of maroon flowers washing across her upper body. But I note she is still wearing satin stockings. She tosses me a dressing gown made of a towelling similar to the one round my waist. I thank her and pause, uncertain as to whether to fully undress in front of her. She leans upon the banister and watches me, expectantly. I allow a sly smile to creep across my features and in an act that might be interpreted as cheeky defiance I turn my back on her, pull on the robe and then remove the towel, having shown her nothing more.

“Spoilsport,” she mutters as she walks past me, back into the kitchen and pours boiled water from the kettle into two mugs. “This is coffee,” she states, plainly. “For energy. Chocolate, since you’re a fan.” At this she shoots me a look and we share the memory of our first contact. A shiver runs up my spine as I remember the taste of her fingers. “Plus, a little amaretto for your nerves?” It is a question. She proffers the bottle in her hands.

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” I say, and she pours in a generous shot. –‘But it is dull, son of Adam, to eat without drinking,’- the words steal through my head. Followed by Marissa Coulter offering Chocolatl to Tony Makarios, a poor, trusting kid she’s about to snatch off the street. I tell my literary side to shut its trap lest it ruin this for the both of us.

I receive the steaming mug, that she has applied exactly the right measurements with expert timing to make it cool enough to drink without burning my mouth. Wouldn’t want to injure my tongue now. “Mmm,” I sigh as she watches me over her cup. Then I take the plunge, because it is so strange that I don’t know the answer to the following question yet. “I’m sorry to be rude and blunt, but what is your name?”

An enigmatic expression passes across her face, and I already know her answer.

“No names,” she says, with firm authority.

“Understood,” I nod. “Then call me whatever you wish.”

She takes a step towards me, drink in one hand. I am very aware of her breasts, outlined beneath the robe. I have touched one breast before in a sexual context. On an exchange trip, I got together with Marianne, one of the French girls. We kissed a lot whilst my class was in France, and in a few months’ time when they visited England, Marianne and I met up again at a party. Regrettably we had perhaps left it too long; this was the last night we were going to see one another, and while I had stroked towards her chest during a make-out session before, she had steered me away. Now, I did not enjoy feeling like a grasping baby so I kept my hands respectfully upon her back and her hips, her face and her hair. But for this final evening something was different. Either she wanted to give me a treat or she genuinely wanted to feel my fingers upon her nipples, because she very deliberately guided me there that time. I remember little explosions going off in my head that I was being trusted to this degree and I was gentle in my caresses. My hand in her shirt as our tongues explored one another’s mouths.

But it has been a few years since then, and now a fully grown lady has designs on my hands and potentially more.

“Let me guess,” she says softly, looking me up and down, reading my body language, correlating that information with everything else I had done in her presence. “You know what you’re doing…” Uh oh, she was overestimating me wildly. “You just haven’t been able to do it yet,” she concludes. That was far more accurate. I take a deep breath.

“Correct,” I nod.

“So,” she let’s this simple, initiating word hang in the air and I catch a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “That would make me your teacher right now.”

“Let’s just say,” I venture. “That I have the theory down, but I need experience in the practical side.”

“Well then,” she straightens up a little and takes another step towards me. Teasing me with her proximity. “One assumes you have particular… tastes. Maybe a checklist of experiences long overdue to start adding ticks to?”

“Pretty much all of it,” I admit. “But,” and here I decide to be wholly honest. “I am just so happy being here with you. If you just want us to sit and talk that will be an amazing, memorable, no… an *indelible* evening for me.”

That air of sadness flits across her features once again. What is it? What is she hiding?

“Alright,” the lady says, taking the last two steps into immediacy. The atmosphere between us tingles as she lays a hand upon my shoulder, that maroon nail-polish again, applying subtle pressure, coaxing me to incline my left ear down towards her mouth. With a start I feel warmth on my earlobe. It is between her lips and I feel tiny measures of pressure from indentations in her teeth. She plants dry, passionate kisses in the sensitive area of skin where my ear meets my neck and I shiver hard as her other arm circles me. Then I hear her whisper. “Talking with you is genuinely a lovely experience,” she breathes. “But given free reign, what would you *most* like to do with me right now?”

I am in ecstasy as she kisses me further, parting my bathrobe. I feel hers, open now and glance down at her breasts. These are the first naked nipples I have actually *seen* up close, and they are pink and rigid with little goosebumps surrounding them. I caress the small of her back as I pull her into me, and the thumb on my other hand brushes her left nipple, making her gasp in pleasure as I hold her.

I don’t fool myself that it is just me doing all this. Something about the way she has set everything up is positioning the pair of us at maximum arousal. I am just thrilled she chose me to be the one to accompany her to this place. “What would you love?” she asks again. “Ask me and I’ll say yes.” Oh god, I adore this experience so much. This welcome acceptance. No, again with the understatement. As her arms encircle me and her nails lightly graze ten lines in my naked back, this is *need*.

I feel her pelvis push against me as we kiss deeply. This causes me to free my mouth from hers for a second as she looks up intently, eyes drinking in the sight of what she is doing to my expression.

“I would love…” I breathe into her ear. “I would love to eat your pussy.” I feel her trembling now as her hips undulate with mine, and a little chuckle escapes her as she gently frames my face in her hands.

“Is that not something you’ve done yet?” she queries. I shake my head and bite my lip as a powerful wave of wanton desire rushes through the both of us. “Well then,” she purrs, and gently presses on both of my shoulders as she shrugs her robe aside. I catch sight of her knickers approaching as I am compelled down to my knees. They are lacy and black, and once again I am reminded of a line. A border we have come to, and are about to cross. Once beyond this point things will be different between us. The moment hangs as we examine it together, shivering in anticipation.

I glance up, panting softly, breathing her in. Freshly showered but still so gorgeously, intimately scented in a way my sense memory will never lose track of. I study the area around her waist, her navel, the wonderful, soft, wide V that descends from her hips. She looks down at me and strokes my hair.

“You’re going to have to pull them down for me,” she states, matter-of-factly.

Lightning races through my body. I have never been so awake or so alive. I hook my thumbs around either side of those knickers, just a few inches above her stocking-tops, and I begin to slide them down.

This is it. I have seen a hundred pussies before on the printed page, on grainy, fuzzy erotic videos from back when you couldn’t really see any kind of detail anyway. But I had never ever been this close. And as her panties slide down her legs and my fingers brush that satin, at long last her delectable cunt is revealed to me.

I kneel, gazing at her, barely able to breathe with excitement. My cock is so hard and pulsing right now I didn’t even know if I could stand if she ordered me to. It is requesting all the blood in my body to maintain such peak density.

I looked lovingly at her soft, curled lips, the seashell in the middle inviting my touch, her pink, hooded clitoris, the neatly shaved triangle of dark hair surrounding it. Then I feel her hand on the back of my head.

“Go on,” she whispers. “I want nothing more in the world right now than to feel your tongue there.”

With a soft moan of capitulation, I bury my face between her legs and finally, after all those years of imagining it, I explore that most sacred of places, with enthusiasm and passion that has stored up inside me my entire life.

Green-eyes leans back against the kitchen counter, throws one shapely leg over my shoulder, hooking me in, gripping my hair and almost immediately begins to cum in my mouth, moaning and shuddering in release with an animalistic fervour.

My brain is nothing but fireworks.

End of Part 3

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By *rego69Man
over a year ago

Chelmsford

Yep agree with the above. Nice story telling.

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By *iscoman7771000Man
over a year ago

birmingham

Excellent

Well written

As for a young man

Hope this experience

Stays with you forever

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By *oyntzMan
over a year ago

all over Ireland

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By *oxtrotOscar654Man
over a year ago

Framlingham, Woodbridge Suffolk

Amazing and so well written and descriptive. Can't wait to read more of this sexy erotic story.

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By *lderWiserNowMan
over a year ago

Kettrin

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By *dward_TeagueMan
over a year ago

wolverhampton

Simply wonderful

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By *lay-with-MeMan
over a year ago

Whitchurch Shropshire

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By *ricky09Man
over a year ago

Gloucester/Cyprus

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By *untooMan
over a year ago

manchester

Superb writing. Thank you. Please continue

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By *uju67123Woman
over a year ago

Kings lynn

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By *azpiz1Man
over a year ago

Camberley

Superbly written. Please continue.

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By *ilbert4450Man
over a year ago

paisley

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

I think you have become a fab favourite author.

Congratulations for captivating our minds with your thoughts.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Nice read especially as am on a train

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By *bthreeCouple
over a year ago

Yeovil

Bookmarked

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By *urreyloverMan
over a year ago

Guildford

I think this has to be one of the best that I've read on the forum. Superb writing and a wonderful erotic tale of a youth being seduced and educated by a mature lady. Can't wait to read every episode; and it is so refreshing to read significant chapters rather than multiple infrequent paragraphs that eventually peter out to an unfulfilled promise. There is a strong desire for more from you.

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By *annSummersMan
over a year ago

Glasgow

Sensational.

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By *otts-manMan
over a year ago

Long Eaton

Superbly written, very erotic

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By *orsetMale34Man
over a year ago

Weymouth

Always have dreamed about such an experience but alas still not happened

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Superb, part 4 soon

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By *appyx1Man
over a year ago

lincoln

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By *cottish guy 555Man
over a year ago

London

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By *J GeminiTV/TS
over a year ago

Northumberland

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By *ADSPARKY200Man
over a year ago

Watford

Loving the story please continue

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By *lugoneMan
over a year ago

rathmicheal

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By *oss25Man
over a year ago

Flitwick and Fakenham

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By *orgotten22Woman
over a year ago

out in the sticks in the north east england

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By *ormalbiMan
over a year ago

Lutterworth

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By *londiecd747Man
over a year ago

bristol

Superb

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By *usicMan
over a year ago

manchester

This is one of the hotest, well written pieces of erotica (NOT porn) I have ever read and this erection is ALL your fault lol Well done that man!

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By *rgar27Man
over a year ago

Bognor Regis

fantastic

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By *1sexypairCouple
over a year ago

Retford

I've just caught up with this fabulous story,

Looking forward to chapter 4

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By *evonFbsCouple
over a year ago

SIDMOUTH

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By *ucksguy2000Man
over a year ago

aylesbury

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By *atty and RattyCouple
over a year ago

coningsby

Roll on the next installment.

A great read so far

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By *lutandhubbyCouple
over a year ago

west midlands

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Again, just sublime. A work of art.

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By *ogan WillowCouple
over a year ago

Leeds

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By *lknhungMan
over a year ago

Luton

Incredible read

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By *iscoman7771000Man
over a year ago

birmingham

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By *rdiscreet327Man
over a year ago

Nottinghamshire

Absolutely incredible. Brilliant writing. I’m so hooked!

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By *j and c 2Couple
over a year ago

mullingar

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By *immy_5belliesMan
over a year ago

f

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By *ilbert4450Man
over a year ago

paisley

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By *ussD1Man
over a year ago

Gloucester

I echo all of the above

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By *itboyslim2Man
over a year ago

stevenage

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By *ary1001xMan
over a year ago

Hillsborough

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By *annSummersMan
over a year ago

Glasgow

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By *oltMan
over a year ago

Doncaster

Awesome!!

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By *ove2pleaseseukMan
over a year ago

Hastings

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By *on BurgundieMan
over a year ago

Edinburgh

My goodness that is well written. I nearly came myself!!!

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By *lay-with-MeMan
over a year ago

Whitchurch Shropshire

Part 4 please

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By *ccasional75Man
over a year ago

dudley

So well written. Not a series of events as most are. But a painted picture of anticipation and desire. My hat is off to you and your writing style. You have me captivated, keep going

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By *erri AnneTV/TS
over a year ago

Shannon and Costa Blanca

Brilliantly written story of an adventure of a young boy been thought but a mature lady

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By *ooking for fun 2000Man
over a year ago

redcar

Please continue very well written ??

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By *Excellent OP   Couple
over a year ago

Lincoln

-Part 4-

The first time I ever actually ejaculated was under not-ideal circumstances, but they were somewhat beyond my control. I had gotten suddenly hard repeatedly over the years, unsure of what that meant but finding it amusing. I was never exposed to the core information on self-manipulation, ergo I had no clue what a wank was.

But one occasion, a few years before this story begins, my father’s then-girlfriend was staying over for the night. She was a pleasant lady named Stacy and we got on well enough over supper and TV. However, late in the evening while I was reading in bed, the two of them took to his room. Only a single wall separated us. Now I had spent my childhood in a bedroom underneath the spacious attic my parents slept in, so I was separated by too many levels and layers to catch any sounds of nocturnal activities. However, on this evening, my now-divorced father whom I was living alone with was clearly getting some pent-up frustration off his hairy chest.

The two of them went at it hard, and pretty soon I heard the unmistakable sound of Stacy moaning and gasping, starting quietly, but growing in intensity in a way that began to distract me from my book and then swiftly arouse me. Fairly soon I felt something new… an urgency to *do something* about my erection.

I quietly left my bed, checked in my lower drawer and retrieved a Durex condom I had been keeping in there, just on the off-chance I should ever wind up on the way to something racy with a teenage girl. I lay naked on my bedclothes, fiddled with the packet and opened it up, finally getting to handle one. It was thinner than I had expected, and smelled of rubber and lubricant, a rather singular odour I had not encountered before. As the sound of the bedstead thumped against the wall and Stacy began to whimper in pleasure, I experimentally began to roll this condom down over the end of my cock and down, savouring the feeling of tightness and friction until it felt like I was being insistently clasped.

I imagined Stacy’s body, devoid of clothing, her breasts bare and wobbling, her hard, suckable nipples, her legs spread, and her head thrown back, her body moving with me. That was it, just a few more strokes as I heard her orgasm, an intense feeling that had been building in my frame, akin to the preliminaries of an itchy sneeze begging to be released from every fibre of my being suddenly peaked and was thrust out through me. I gasped along with this magical lady as cum flooded into the condom, before my astonished eyes, filling the reservoir with pearlescent fluid from inside me. I remember laughing, biting my fingers with surprise and delight. This was something I now wanted to do all the time.

And I did. For several years of being a frustrated young man with so much energy to spend and nobody to spend it with.

That had now changed.

I am nose-deep in Green-eyes, my tongue making love to her impeccable nethers. Her clitoris is like a little, round, soft fingertip, and she responds amazingly well as I apply pressure and movement, teasing out that sensitive nerve-cluster from under her hood. Her outer lips are beyond luscious and her labia minora has a sweet lime undertone that spurs my passion as much as her hands caressing and gripping my face. This is an experience adjacent to kissing on the mouth, but with a different kind of powerful intimacy.

I am well aware of how ashamed women are encouraged to feel about these parts of themselves. How they are told they are unclean, and that this thing is nothing but trouble, and at the same time, it (and everything attached to it) somehow *belongs to men*. Purchased in the distant past and theirs to decide upon what goes in and what comes out.

This is the most grotesque of long-cons. Women possess these astonishing bodies, whether average, wobbly, wrinkled, firm, capacious, petite, squat, lofty, lean, muscular, every possible skin tone, every birth-designation righteously defied. It is a privilege and an honour for us to go down on them. And over the years of dreaming and imagining this activity, I have always thought of what might run through a lady’s mind when someone like me is so diligently worshiping at the temple between her legs. I would wish for this to be passionately welcomed, and enjoyed with wild enthusiasm, all thoughts of shame expelled as waves of pleasure ripple through her mind, body and soul.

Green-eyes cries out and her hips buck against my jaw. I have been trying to determine how to breathe while maintaining the movements that she desires and expressly asks me to keep going with. I slow myself down and breathe through my nose as I start to tease her. This, as it turns out is well-timed, as after climaxing, she becomes rather sensitive and holds me off for a moment. Just a few seconds as she catches her breath and gets herself comfortable again. We have moved to the living room area now, and she is lying on the wide, leather sofa, beads of perspiration upon her brow as she looks down at me, kneeling between her legs with an expression of surprise.

“Oh…” she is trying to catch her breath. “I think you’ve been fibbing. There is absolutely no way this is your first time tending to a lady.” A little burst of pride fires off and I betray it with a grin.

“Like I said, I’ve studied,” I say, and her eyebrows arch as her hands reach out and she guides me back in between those legs. The next words come out of her as a harsh, roll-on whisper.

“Oh yes, just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop.” I bring her to the edge again as a long, hoarse moan relinquishes and evolves, leaving her actively laughing, which of course reminds me of the first time I came. Her hands are covering her face, partway between relief and what might be the first signs of embarrassment… she lost control. This is very interesting. She breaks off from the little moment she was having on her own, composes herself and becomes catlike, sitting up and looking me straight in the eye again.

“Let’s do something for you,” she purrs, her fingers on my chest, pushing me gently back towards the carpet as she parts the dressing gown she lent me, exposing my waist and legs. Her hands descend as she pushes the cloth aside and I feel her fingers touch and close around my straining cock. She breaks her gaze with me and looks down, turning her head slightly to examine what she is holding.

Here is where anxiety sets in for me. You see, I was born with one single testicle, the other undescended, leaving me always a little nervous about comparing my wedding tackle with that of other men. Would it look smaller and less appealing? Thinner? Of course, flaccid they never look particularly impressive. There are only so many things you can do to dress up something that looks like it should be hanging out of the side of a shark’s mouth (thank you Dylan Moran for that one). But mine is probably -and at this moment in time my internal needle is creeping towards *definitely*- lacking. I have never been in a scenario where a lady could pass judgment and now, I am under the microscope… or magnifying glass, either way it isn’t flattering.

The look on her face goes from curiosity to adoration as she descends and takes me in her mouth. I feel her sensual lips delicately kiss the head and pass around it and she slowly swallows my length. The sensation of her sliding down the sides and her tongue fluttering against the underneath is blissful and shiver-inducing, but as she draws back upwards, taking her time, guarding me from her teeth, that sensation gets even more intense.

“Oh god,” I warn her. “You are so monumentally fucking sexy.” I make sure I slow this statement down and keep my voice partway between smooth and rough. I cannot let her feel like I am not enjoying this, when it is quite the opposite scenario. “But if you carry on like that only a bit longer… I am definitely going to cum!” At this she disengages her mouth and looks me in the eye with a playful smile.

“Oh my darling,” she croons. “You are young, virile and have exuberance to spare. And I have use of you for this entire night. So, I am absolutely *counting* on you cumming right now, this very moment, just as a… *taster*.” And something about the way she says this last part, flashing me a wicked grin and extending the tip of her tongue to lick all the way from my perinium, over my tightly straining sack, all the way to the base of my glans, which she flicks with relish.

I see stars!

I shudder and groan with pleasure, and a single spurt of creamy white cum leaps across her cheek and drops onto her right areola, the droplet half-coating her erect nipple and hanging there. In triumph she opens her mouth and receives the second arc with a sigh of pleasure as I shout an unintelligible word as she closes around me. I feel jet after jet haul out of me, into her mouth. She closes her eyes and gently bobs her head up and down, massaging and lubricating me as I continue to twitch and shake. My fingers clutch at her bare shoulders and I stroke her back, running my hand through her hair as she opens her eyes once more, pulls her lips free, and visibly swallows with a glow of intense satisfaction.

“You’ve been eating pineapple,” she murmurs. “You’re sweet, through and through.”

I wilt and flop on the carpet, the towelling robe acting as a welcome rug to pass out on. I start laughing again, thinking about how wild this day has been so far, and my own edginess about getting even a speck of effluvia on her nice, cream carpet. She plonks herself down beside, stroking my chest, asks me what’s funny and I tell her honestly, which makes her chuckle too. I love this sound so very much already.

She is so beautiful, laying there, those cares she seemed to be carrying absent for the time being? Yet that total confidence she always exhibited potentially challenged. We are naked now, beside one another. Frankly anything could happen next.

“I hope you don’t mind about the er…” I begin, unsure of how to put it. I glance down at myself. “One plum?” Is that poetic or childish? There had to be a better way I could have-

“Actually, it makes your cock look longer and bigger,” she smiles magnanimously. I feel her little finger playfully stroke me from the outermost point of my left hip, down to the base of this mono-bawbag. The sensation is so pleasant, ribald and reassuring that I find my member quivering into vertical action once more.

“Oh… well,” she exclaims. “That didn’t take you long at all.” She rolls onto her side, so I am surveying the length of her body, props her head up on her arm and gazes at me with a quizzical expression and an agile, punctuating leap of her eyebrows. “What do you think we should do next?”

End of Part 4

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By *lderWiserNowMan
over a year ago

Kettrin

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Please tell us

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By *ary1001xMan
over a year ago

Hillsborough

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By *cotty909Man
over a year ago

tranent

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By *usketeerABCMan
over a year ago

LISBURN

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By *ince163Man
over a year ago

Birmingham

This is so good.

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By *itboyslim2Man
over a year ago

stevenage

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By *r MistyMan
over a year ago

Braintree

Superb, hanging on every word.

Roll on part 5!

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By *arleybird66Man
over a year ago

wexford

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By *ettercallsaul118Man
over a year ago

Funtown

Bravo

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By *xxx73Man
over a year ago

Basingstoke

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By *hewey733Man
over a year ago

Folkestone

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By *reenworld55Man
over a year ago

dorchester

As others have said, wonderful writing. Thank you and more, please.

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By *portbilly1976Man
over a year ago

manchester

Superb - great pace, delicately written and great erotic detail

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By *rgasm4u69Man
over a year ago

Warrington

Part 5 sounds promising

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By *j and c 2Couple
over a year ago

mullingar

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

I am literally logging on for the sole purpose of reading this just now.

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By *ornynhappy23Man
over a year ago

renfrewshireish

great story well written book marked

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By *cottish guy 555Man
over a year ago

London

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By *uriouscoveMan
over a year ago

Here

Absolutely love this…

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By *ememberTheNameMan
over a year ago

barnsley


"It is 1997, I’m seventeen years old and on my way home. I’m sat in a train carriage doing what I always do; listening to my Discman and thinking about sex. Despite my overabundance of enthusiastic personality, I’m curiously shy around girls, never quite sure of what to say and prone to showing off. This has led to a strange imbalance throughout my teenage years. Girlfriendless and yet I don’t think I’m not too bad to look at. My father is terrified that I’m gay. My Mum says I’m handsome and of the two of them I trust her. I love women, but I understand this blatant unfuckability has to be about more than looks. I’m fairly certain people mistake my seeming overconfidence as arrogance, but I am my own harshest critic. They cannot know what goes on inside my head, and if I told them they would say I was overthinking.

The train stops at East Croydon and my _usic reaches Mindfields I know full well there’s a tiny scratch on my Fat of the Land CD, so it’s just about to jam up and start skipping. I fiddle with the buttons, jumping across to Narayan and when my head comes up again to survey the carriage, she… is there.

I don’t know her name, I just know that I’ve seen her on this train about a dozen times before, and she gets off at my home town of Hurst Green. She occupies that space in a woman’s life where she could be 30, 40 or 50 but the years themselves don’t matter, what she has that so many of the girls my own age seem to lack is a palpable self-confidence. She knows who she is. She dresses to accentuate that, and always seems so comfortable in her own skin.

My eyes have lingered for a fraction of a second and I shift them away. I do NOT want to look like a creep, even though all the thoughts rushing through my head seem to point in that direction. However, as my brief gaze left her, she glanced at me and I can now feel her look. She has librarian glasses, long dark hair with a streak of silver she wears with pride. Behind those glasses are green eyes I have caught once or twice and always smiled politely, as though stepping aside to give her space to move through a doorway. But right now, those eyes are on me.

I shuffle a little in my seat as I can feel myself getting hard. I stare out of the window, watching the brown brick walls stained with train-soot drift by, and I take in her form with just the edge of my peripheral vision. She is wearing a knee-length, light cream coat, (far too elegant to be wandering around Croydon in), a black blouse, a very slender necklace with what might be a single black pearl nestling in her suprasternal notch just below her throat. She shifts her position and as I incline my head, seemingly fascinated by a tall glass tower framed by a stormy, grey sky, I can make out the knee-length black skirt with a long split up the side as she crosses her legs. Is her knee pointed in my direction? That means something doesn’t it? Either she’s interested in me or I make her nervous… of course most probably she’s just getting comfortable and I in no way have influenced her movements.

There was a flash of something there though. In the crossing I caught sight of the lacy tops of her black stockings and just above that, the tanned skin of her thigh. I catch a subtle wave of her scent and catch my breath. I cannot stop my brain from going where it goes as I imagine stroking my hand up and down those legs, looking into those eyes, lightly brushing the satin with my fingertips which glide upwards to the opening of her skirt.

Oh god, now I definitely have a pulsing erection. I can’t get her out of my head. I steal a glance at those darkly made-up lips to see them ever so slightly twist into a smirk. There is a roll of thunder and rain begins to clatter down outside our train.

I sigh, thinking about the mile I have to walk home from the station and pray for this storm to blow itself out by then. Twenty minutes later my prayers have not been answered, the carriage has slowly emptied at every stop and my hard-on has gone nowhere. I have tried to not look her way, but this mysterious lady has seemingly enjoyed herself over that time. She has been reading a paperback called “Seduction of the Minotaur” by someone named “Anais Nin”. A bar of dark chocolate sits upon the chair beside her, and occasionally, without adjusting her eyeline from the book she has reached down her left hand, and skilfully, broken off a piece with her maroon nail varnished fingers, raising the chocolate to her lips with deliberation, and chewed thoughtfully, each time sighing ever so slightly. I have never wanted to BE chocolate so much in my life.

Fat of the Land reaches the end and I swap it for Ten by Pearl Jam. Far more flustered as I root around in my bag. When I finally look up again, my heart skips a beat. In front of me, she has shifted position once again, and while her gaze is still locked inside her paperback, her left hand has extended towards me, with the last piece of chocolate, nestled in what remains of the wrapping.

There is a beat. Is this a test? Is it ruder for me to decline or take what is offered? Pearl Jam are playing Once too loudly in my ears as I raise my own hand. I take the plunge and reach for the chocolate and the moment that happens her eyes jump to mine, a catlike expression of satisfaction. I grin too broadly, feel my cock twitch and thank her as I take the chocolate, feeling every bit like Edmund sat next to The White Witch, as she compresses the paper and foil into a tight ball. I raise the dense little block to my mouth and I can ever so slightly taste something beyond chocolate there. Almost imperceptibly a slight exotic undercurrent. I realise I can taste her fingers and I shiver.

The rain beats down as we reach Hurst Green. Nobody else is left in the carriage. I try to maintain not glancing directly at her she trades her paperback for a short, maroon umbrella, ready to disembark into this deluge. I am nowhere near that prepared in my summer jacket, and I am about to get absolutely waterlogged. However, considering how exciting this journey has been I weigh up the day and come out at an absolute win!

“What did you do last night?” my friend Matt will ask tomorrow.

“Oh, I just had the most erotic shared moment of my entire life.” I will say, beaming.

“Oh my god, who did you get to fuck?” Matt will gasp.

“No fucking, but I *did* get to eat a piece of chocolate.”

Matt will stare at me. I will stare back.

“We’re going.” He will announce.

“Where?”

“Safeway. I’m going to get you a massive bar of Dairy Milk, you horny bastard.”

I am smiling to myself as I stand up to leave the carriage. This astonishing lady stands at the same time, I could almost swear she did this on purpose. My brain oscillates between the contextual “Of course she got up now, this is her stop. People stand up to get off trains, you clod.” to “Yeah, but she could either have gotten up before you or after you.” And now, standing, we are within a foot of one another as the train slows. I am in her space and worried once more that I am making her nervous or intimidating her. It only now becomes apparent how much taller than her I am.

Once more, I don’t know where to look. I stare at the carriage door, willing the train to finally stop, but at the exact same time, yearning for this moment not to end. I am aware her face is upturned and she is looking at me. I breathe in her perfume. There is a spicy, fruity miasma to it that has me quite befuddled. I am trying to keep the front of my jeans covered with my bag so that she is not confronted with this tumescent evidence of my extreme attraction to her.

The train stops, with a shake, she teeters ever so slightly in my direction, as though if she’s going to fall, it’s going to be into me. I brace myself to catch her, but the fall doesn’t happen. She noticed this for sure. I lean to one side and open the door. Unfortunately, we are far up the train enough to be way beyond the sheltered station roof, so I am opening the door to a torrid wall of water.

I step out and am immediately drenched. I hold the door open for her and she slowly… deliberately… takes her time stepping down onto the platform, raising her umbrella to shield herself until she stands, not a speck of moisture evident, glancing across to the car park. Then without a word she stalks off that way, her high heels clacking audibly in between the raindrops. I look back into the train and see the conductor staring off in her direction as well, his eyes on the hems of those stockings. I close the door and hurry away as the train moves on.

As I struggle through the blitz, barely able to see in the gathering dark, I can feel water everywhere. My socks, between my toes, sliding cold fingers into my jeans, slapping the back of my neck, stinging my eyes and battering my ears. I almost don’t notice when an Alfa Romeo pulls up alongside the pathway, headlights on. It is maroon. The passenger window rolls down and there she is, one hand on the steering wheel, looking at me intently over those librarian glasses with those intense green eyes. I stop walking and stand there, saturated as the rain beats down and our eyes lock together with a powerful wave of venturing and acceptance. She studies my bedraggled form and says two words that will change my life…

“Get in.”

End of Part 1

"

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By *rdiscreet327Man
over a year ago

Nottinghamshire

Love your writing style. It’s soo good. The back stories included are a great addition. This is easily my favourite story at the moment.

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By *ndrea54TV/TS
over a year ago

cambridge

Fantastic writing OP

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Part 5 please

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By *ut4fun6969Man
over a year ago

Folkestone

Great work OP

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By *eebee2017Woman
over a year ago

London

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By *rgar27Man
over a year ago

Bognor Regis

fantastic writing

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By *ussD1Man
over a year ago

Gloucester

Bravo sir. Loving it

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By *eter4383Man
over a year ago

Norfolk

Oh wow reminds me when I was taking by a lady in her 50s when I was 18. Never looked back

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By *Excellent OP   Couple
over a year ago

Lincoln

I feel like we would all like to hear some details about that

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By *adyinred696969Couple
over a year ago

Brecon

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By *parklesueTV/TS
over a year ago

Middleton

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By *lugoneMan
over a year ago

rathmicheal

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By *lutandhubbyCouple
over a year ago

west midlands

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

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By *londiecd747Man
over a year ago

bristol

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By *i4bicplsMan
over a year ago

Darwen

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By *lugoneMan
over a year ago

rathmicheal

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By *om2funMan
over a year ago

Nailsea

Keep going

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By *oxtrotOscar654Man
over a year ago

Framlingham, Woodbridge Suffolk

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By *att damonMan
over a year ago

Bishops Waltham

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By *i4bicplsMan
over a year ago

Darwen

Don't forget guys. The trains have been in strike this weekend. Expect delays

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