Night Train and "Eau de Puss"

Riding the train home outta Chicago, it was almost empty except for one woman who sat in the way back and a few ladies in front.

The woman in back had a pleasant look on her face as she looked straight ahead while riding home.

I'd seen her a few times before on the train, but generally I made it a practice not to talk to others on the train, because I didn't expect anyone, including a cute woman like her, to speak to me.

She and I did happen to catch the other's eye; we smiled quickly, but our eyes snapped away going different directions.

I did happen to notice, she was wearing a low cut top and I wanted to peruse the exposed cleavage, but I told myself not to because I didn't want to appear as typical impolite male.

While, I didn't look, I heard lots of coughing coming from back that way. I looked towards her way. She had a coughing spell that wouldn't quit. I offered gum to her. She looked down as she covered her mouth and said no by using her hand.

At that point, I was able to catch a glimpse of her supple cleavage. It was ecstasy to me. Yes it was.

God her breasts were beautiful; at that point, it was my goal to be apart of that wondrous area. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow or soon I hoped.

Her cough subsided and I looked back and we smiled at one another. I turned to mind my own business, reading my paper most of the way home.

All of a sudden, I smelled something! It was a familiar odor and for some reason, my sense of smell was acute that evening.

It smelled out of place too. I lifted my head into the air to smell that peculiar scent. I couldn't place my finger on it yet.

"What was that, I asked myself? Still, I couldn't figure it out.

Then a comforting smile came to me as I discovered the origins of the fond, memorable odor sitting in the back of my brain.

This wasn't some body spray. It wasn't someone's perfume. It wasn't a hand cream! It definitely wasn't exhaust fumes.

That scent I caught wind of was the effervescence of a female! Yes, it was the scent of a woman! Not just any scent, mind you! This was a scent procured due to juices developed by a specific action.

Not just any action I discovered. That was an escape of odor from juices produced when an orgasm is ensuing. Just prior to orgasm, when climax is in progress almost and one is just short of that pinnacle, that scent releases from within!

That climatic odor is emitted and it isn't bottled! It is just adored by those who know its scent!

Nobody here on the train, that I saw, was doing it. There were only six people on it and I was the only man!

Unfortunately, I was not having sex or anything even remotely close to that, except enjoying that astonishing odor, nicknamed by the French, "eau de puss" I believe.

I don't know if it's ever been categorized, but I knew that distinct odor.

What woman, I wondered, was doing that to her own self then? Who was fragile enough that she had to break down, pleasure herself at this time, and try to have an orgasm on a barren Chicago train? I looked at the people in front of me.

One older woman, close to 75, wasn't the culprit. Another woman coddling two young children wasn't the 'perp'. No, she couldn't be it.

A young woman carrying three bags of groceries home, she was looking around also. She didn't give me any clues either.

Then I decided to turn and look. I looked back at the woman, approximately 37 or 38.

Beautiful, sexy, supple, and she had suave silky hair. She was adorned with a smile that when I looked towards her, she winked at me. She knew that I knew. I knew the odor and I knew it well!

Her hands were down by her sides and I could see movement of arms that suggested she might be fingering herself, possibly into an orgasm. Yes trying for orgasm as she was heading home.

I looked back again, suspiciously, and she was doing herself, that was for sure! She did smile at me purposely. She did want me to be aware that she was finger fucking her pussy.

She did want to let me know, she was enjoying herself. She almost giggled as she teased herself and me.

Then I turned away, but I heard a clearing of a throat, from behind me. I turned around again; she smiled and her arms moved more forcefully. She was almost there, it seemed!

Her face was focused as she headed towards the end-result of orgasm. It showed all over her. She was there. I was here. She looked at me, signaling for me to come and be with her actually.

"No way, I thought! Like what the heck, now, me really?" I pointed to myself.

She nodded yes and as she did, her face became tenser. I stood up, walked back discreetly and she motioned that I disappear underneath the bench. So I did and her legs spread apart as I let my head shovel its way between her thighs.

She pushed it into her pussy even deeper. Obviously, it was my task to finalize her objective.

I did so gladly and a scream, a loud piercing scream, almost shattered the eardrums of everyone on the train.

Was I in Heaven? You bet your sweet garden I was. All one-hundred ounces of canned "eau de puss", I was; that's for sure!

She looked ahead at the other ladies and smiled. She wiped her pussy with her bare hands and licked them off! She wiped any excess on my shirt and her skirt also.

Then I received another surprise! She wrote her name and an address on a piece of paper, handed that to me, and said thank you, quietly. She winked and smiled at me as if she was forever grateful.

She didn't say anything else. After she gave me the information, she pulled up her underwear, collected her things, and kissed me on my head.

She patted my shoulder and only mouthed the words, "I hope to see or hear from you soon!"

She quietly got off the train and headed away. Later that evening, I was at her home. That night, when I rang the doorbell, she came up to answer the door in a nice looking robe, but with tears in her eyes. Behind her was a dude who turned out to be her husband.

He was in a t-shirt and knit shorts with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. I didn't know their situation; however, I turned and left right away.

I saw her two days later with a nice outfit on again. Her hair was pulled back in a nicely tight fit ponytail. What stood out though was a noticeable bruise on her face just below her eye.

I sat down and gave her my name. She reintroduced herself and said, "Sweetheart, all I want right now is a good orgasm. That's all; can you do that for me again? Right now too?"

I thought "here, again on the train?" She said yes; I disappeared underneath and she pulled her panties down again. The rest, well you know what happened.

We figured out another location soon enough too, since my wife wouldn't think my home would be a good spot for this, of course.

Her name was Andrea, and she was in an abusive relationship. She married for lust. He married for sex only. She was working on a divorce secretly and a legal separation.

There wasn't love between the two ever! Besides that, there wasn't love between us either we just enjoyed good sex.

No strings were attached, we agreed to it. We stuck by that. It was good for both.

The only gratification she got from him was an unusually large cock for a white man. He was suave and seemingly sophisticated.

After 3 years of marriage, he wasn't the same man; hence, she looked for a good satisfying orgasm elsewhere.

Thus, the night train home was her satisfaction. It was mine as well because she produced a great scent of "eau de puss" and I was the only lucky recipient of that odor.

Of course, this evolved into meeting at a hotel. They were short lived rendezvous', but gratifying at the time for both of us!