Wicked Wednesday: Strangers on a Train

I’ve always found train journeys sexy. Maybe it’s something to do with the forced condoned spaces with strangers?  Maybe Brief Encounter had an early impact on me? Maybe it’s just th fact that I can seemingly drink booze without much judgement? Anyway, here’s an attempt at describing a fantasy – but not one I necessarily want to experience… 

I was about an hour into the journey home when I noticed her. I think she had only just on, but I can’t be totally sure. As is usual on these bullshit training jaunts the company send me on, I grab a table seat near the window to charge my phone and laptop, stick my headphones on, and try and use the time away from distractions at work and home to actually get some quality work done. Then 15 minutes later I’m watching Jessica Jones on Netflix.

Opposite me she is looking at her phone and smiling to herself. I take the brief chance offered to me to look at her. Her dark shoulder-length hair frames her face, which glows in the early evening sunshine. Suddenly she’s not smiling. Her head hasn’t moved but her posture has changed. Her sunglasses are hiding her eyes – has she seen me staring like a moron at her, or is she just lost in thought like the older gentleman sat next to her? She smiles again, but at nothing in particular. Was that aimed at me? Can’t have been. My problem is I overthink things. She leans back and I realise I’ve just missed a death and possibly a major twist on my laptop. Bollocks. I scan back a few minutes and try to get through the rest of the journey without anymore silliness.

A few minutes later I can’t help but watch as she stretches her arms above her head. Her t-shirt rises a touch and I see her pierced belly button peer out above her skirt. My cock stirs at the site of this. I love a woman’s stomach. I could spend hours exploring a woman there, taking my tongue from her navel over her smooth skin and round to her side. Kissing her lower ribs while my cheek brushes her breast.

Did she really just bite her lower lip? Surely not?

Then I feel her foot brush mine. Then more than a brush. This is brazen. I still can’t make eye contact with her. It’s not just her glasses though, her head is resting on the window and she’s not even looking my way. I’m like a deer in the headlights and sit there letting her rub her foot on top of mine. She must have taken her shoe off, but I daren’t do anything as obvious as look under the table. That would surely break the spell.

Her foot slowly moves up my foot to the hem of my suit trousers. For a moment I’m glad I wore my loose-fitting linen suit today as her foot slips easily up past my sock and I feel what must be nylon-clad toes stroking my calf. Then I realise that my erection is embarrassingly obvious to anyone who looks my way.

She sinks further down into her seat and starts biting her thumbnail. Still no look of recognition from her, as if my leg is an inanimate object and my own thoughts are of no consequence. The train stops and the carriage empties its guts of commuters and families onto the identikit provincial railway station platform. Including the man sat next to her. Our solitude emboldens her and within seconds of the train pulling away her foot is on top of my thigh. And she finally looks at me. A smile, and a nod towards my crotch.

I pause for a second. I’m not good in these situations at the best of times, and I think this is the moment she realised she needed to force the issue. She must also have known that once she did I was powerless. Her foot moved up to the growing lump in my trousers and I saw her toes for the first time. Nothing showy about them, just like the woman they belonged to. I held my breath as I moved a hand to her foot. She nodded at me and I melted right there in my seat as she gave her permission for me to touch her. My right hand rubbed her toes individually, then moved to the arch of the foot. My left moved up her calf slowly until I reach her knee. Damn, she’s wearing knee-high stockings! My schoolboy excitement was far too obvious, but luckily she just smiled and continued to rub my cock through my trousers. Soon she has both feet in my lap and in my state of distracted pleasure I don’t immediately realise that I am wanking myself off into her feet. Then it hits me that I’m going to cum very soon. I can’t stop if I wanted to. She must know as she starts pressing her toes into my zip. I get the message loud and clear and for the first time since I was a horny and foolish fourteen-year-old I start getting my cock out in public. Her foot slides through my fly and the feel of the nylon directly on my erection almost makes me lost it there and then. My hands are now gripping the table – this is all her. I’m trying to hold on, to make this feeling last for a few precious seconds longer, but it’s no use. I start breathing heavily and stifle a “fuuuuuck” as I feel myself tip over the edge. Just as my cum starts shoots out of the tip of my cock she puts her foot over it and I coat the soles of her feet. She moves her foot around my tip and I jerk in pain and pleasure from the sensitivity. She smiles again and takes her sunglasses off, looking at me and blowing me a kiss.

And with that she straightens herself, puts her shoes back on, and gets up. Walking back up the near-empty carriage towards the doors. I try and discretely clear myself up and sit for a few minutes replaying what just happened over and over again in my head. I’m just about pulling myself together about ten minutes later when she reappears, but this time sits in the seat right next to me. I can feel the train slowing as it approaches its next stop, and the platform comes into view from my window she leans over and whispers in my ear.

“You looked stressed. Like you needed someone to smile at you and brighten up your day. I hope that was okay?” She giggled. Then she placed something soft in my hands.

“I could feel your cum squelching between my toes as I walked past a few people on the way to the toilet. It turned me on so much I had to sneak into the toilet and cum myself. If you don’t believe me, smell those when you get home.”

And with that she kissed my cheek, and then jumped off the train. I barely waited a few seconds before I lifted her pants to my nose and inhaled her scent. And I held them there until my stop.

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