Her Journey

It was a typical day and she was on the train, going home from work. The ride was nearly an hour. Annoyingly she had to use the toilet on the train, something she usually managed to avoid. If anyone had been keeping track, she took quite awhile, longer than one might have expected.

She came back to her seat, sitting back down opposite an elderly woman. She looked upset, visibly shaken by something. Her distress was so evident that the woman asked her if she was feeling unwell. Shaking her head she mumbled that was fine. She settled back into her seat and got control of her breathing. She closed her eyes to calm down and unbidden, she thought about the magazine someone had left in the toilet.

The magazine had been wedged behind the door, hidden from cursory inspection by the train employees. She wondered how many people had seen it using the loo.

Opening it up, she had discovered photographs of men in women's underwear. She'd flipped through the magazine, simultaneously horrified and spellbound. Of course she'd heard about this sort of thing but had dismissed them as perverts. Silly drag queens or cowering masturbators in their wives' dresses, that's what she thought of cross-dressers.

But some of those men were really hot. She'd felt the same stirrings as she did looking at any good-looking guy. They weren't weak or cowardly. They weren't hiding their choice but embracing it and celebrating it sensual photos worthy of any Boudoir service. These men were wearing silky lace lingerie - far nicer, in fact, than any she herself owned. Some wore just satin panties, others were much more elaborate. But they were all handsome, healthy men.

She couldn't possibly be turned on by men in lingerie could she? What would that make her? Her mind reeled with the quandary, logic being tripped up by the image of a hot arse under sheer panties or strong shoulders with a bra strap dividing them.

Her thoughts turned to Gavin, her boyfriend of six months. He'd freak out if he knew what she was thinking. He was very much 'one of the lads' - enjoying his evenings down the pub playing darts; his Sunday mornings playing footie with the local team. There was nothing at all feminine about him. On the face of it he was a pretty insensitive lout, but the sex was great. Great enough to put up with his laddish behaviour. In fact, in the bedroom he was quite the gentleman; always ensuring her needs were more than met. Would he be up for a little dressing up? She had her doubts.

One particular image from the magazine had stayed in her mind, burnt into the back of her eyes. His eyes were blue; a heavenly blue, eyes as manly as any she'd ever seen, piercing her and making her bite her lip. His hair was short, light, even blond. He was wearing a teddy, sheer and pink with ruffled lace edges. She saw the lace running up from between his legs and up high on his hips, giving him a strong illusion of femininity. She could sense his skin under her fingers if she were to touch that pretty lace.

She could see his firm stomach and muscular chest under the delicate lingerie. He was bare, smooth-shaved all over and his legs looked better than hers in the thigh-high silk stockings. She saw the hint of a black seam running down the back each stocking, a soft line that reminded her of Bettie Page pinup pictures.

Of course, his legs were shaped perfectly by his pose, worthy of a fashion model, standing in his high heels. The heels were pink, matching his pretty teddy, sleek and glossy reflecting the photographer's lights. The heels looked about 3" tall, stiletto thin, arching his feet sensuously. His pink-painted toe-nails under the black silk peeked out of the open toes of the heels. The backs of the heels had thin little ankle straps that wrapped around each of his ankles and had tiny combined Mars and Venus symbols in tiny charms hanging from the ankle straps.

He was posed precisely, each muscle manly, each curve so feminine. His eyes smoldered directly into hers, daring her to accept him, to want him, to take him.

All that was incredibly beautiful. Then she saw his erect penis framed perfectly in the front of the teddy and she wanted him... so much... She imagined reaching out and grasping hold of him through the soft, filmy fabric; how hard he would feel; so full of promise. She imagined running her hands over his well defined stomach and smooth shaven chest, biting and kissing his neck. Then she would get those flimsy straps between her teeth and pull them off his shoulders, following the sheer garment south with her tongue, as the teddy fell to the ground.

She would make him step out of the frothy cloud of lingerie now at his feet, stroking her hands down his silk clad legs, marvelling at his well formed calves. His shoes were perfect; elegant and shiny, the light bouncing off them, making them look almost wet.

She was on her knees in front of him now, looking up at his sturdy thighs, tightly encased in silk. The tops of his thigh highs a beautiful delicate flowery design that she ran both her hands around, holding tight and pulling herself up so that her mouth was directly in line with his bobbing penis. She could just imagine what it would feel like as she ran her tongue across the eye, lapping up the moisture there. She might then run her tongue along its length, relishing the feel of his satiny skin on her tongue, simultaneously feeling the soft satin of his thighs against her naked body. She could rub herself against the deliciously soft material, feeling her nipples harden against the softness.

She could pick up the discarded teddy and stroke his face with it, enjoying the way his blue eyes seemed to get even more blue, even as pupils dilated with pleasure. She could wrap it round his neck gently, then tighten it, teasing him, heightening his pleasure. Next she would slide it gently across his chest, thrilling as his nipples now swelled, encouraged also by her tongue. Across his belly and down to his magnificent penis she could stroke with the fluid silk of the teddy; then she could wrap it round, smothering his manhood in the frothy feminine fabric.

Grasping it tightly bound she would move her hand back and forth; enjoying his low throated groans of delight and the way he staggered somewhat on his heels as she increased the pressure and speed of her movements. She could feel how wet she was and how much she wanted to please this gorgeous man; how much she wanted to make him come, engulfed in the filmy floaty fabric. His body shifted, leaning into her, steadying himself with a hand on her shoulder, his body shuddering and juddering as he approached his climax . . .

She gave an involuntary low moan, her sex on fire, startling the woman opposite and bringing her back to reality. Her face was all flushed and she'd never felt so open and excited. She came to a sudden decision. She leapt up from her seat and rushed back to the toilet, pressing impatiently on the button which opened the door - only to find the magazine had gone.