Training Day

Thank you to the only reader to contact me after reading other stories. A female point of view has, I think given this something more ... squidgy?

It was a hot July day, not the hottest but enough to cause Erica to glow from exertion during her walk from the office to the station.

She stood with the all the other sheep on the platform, jostling for the best position and trying to catch the most of any breeze or downdraft from the passing trains that could swirl around her body and up her skirt to cool her off. She knew that once she got on the train, chances are that it would be full of other commuters and she wouldn’t get a seat so would spend the entire journey squashed up against all manner of hot, sweaty losers.

With a blast of warm, dirty air, the train grumbled into the platform and the doors hissed open with their displeasure at the effort of it all. Erica was right, with only a couple of passengers disembarking, the train was already full and all the seats were taken by those intent on staying there. Occupying their hard fought territory like a mother bird guards her nest.

Erica accepted the pushing and shoving of those around her with good grace as she stepped inside. Her skin stuck to her skirt and blouse, which despite the thin fabrics, both felt heavy and stiff against her. God, she thought, why did she put herself through this? Why not get a job closer to home, or marry a rich guy and never work again?

She smiled at the fantasies and resolved to bear her misfortunes with good grace. One day her prince would come! In the meantime, she had to kiss a lot of frogs. At least she hadn’t lost her sense of humour and relaxed against the handrails to make herself comfortable for the journey by placing her leather valise on the floor between her feet, bracing her legs slightly apart in order to make room for it and stabilise herself against the rattling, rickety, ride to come.

The train established a steady rhythm and she glanced at the newspapers of those around her. Some overpaid, over ego-ed, overindulged soccer player had been caught being unfaithful to his pretty wife with an even prettier women. The irony was that he didn’t deserve either of them and both were in it for the publicity enhancement opportunities that he was too illiterate and inarticulate to understand for himself unless it was explained to him.

As the journey continued, she relaxed even more and her cold wet clothing chilled and hung heavier off her tanned, trim frame. Whoever was behind her was being a real pain and bumping against her and disturbing her quiet moments.

Erica turned to growl at whoever it was and to give them a piece of her mind and looked directly into 6’+ of rippling prince material. He smiled, revealing perfectly white and even teeth. She stopped in her tracks and her heart double beat and her stomach turned to jelly.

“Hi, my name’s Mark. This heat’s a killer isn’t it?” Erica averted her eyes and down at the floor, no matter how good looking the guy was, he was still a stranger on a train and it was too humid to chit chat.

Erica relaxed again, her eyes drowsily twitching between closed and half-closed as she thought back to how the jabbing against her buttocks had not been entirely unpleasant. She looked up and out of the windows at the scenery flying past.

Or not flying past as the case may be. The backs of brick-built terraced houses crawled past indicating that they were still within the city limits and therefore there was the best part of an hour still to go of her journey. Hopefully a few of these deadbeats would get off in the next few stops before the long express run out to the suburbs. That would make things a bit more roomy and if she had any luck, it might even empty one of the seats and she could sit down. She knew that she had killer legs, especially when she wore a heel but it had been a long day and her calves were rock hard under the strain of standing for so long.

The train slowed further to stop at the final urban station. The doors sighed open and a couple of suits and a few airhead secretary types jostled their way to them and out. The remaining passengers shuffled around to absorb the spaces revealed by their exit. But no seats became vacant.

Erica cursed and shifted her weight from foot to foot, only to receive more prodding and poking from studly stranger behind her against her clenched backside. Jesus, who did he think he was? He was being a real pain in the ass.

A smile tentatively curved the edge of her mouth as she realised the literal truth of her thoughts. A pain in her ass in fact. The smile crept along her lip to catch the other side of her mouth and established itself. This lifted her mood a little and she relaxed slightly, not realising how close behind the guy behind was stood.

The result of which was for her buttocks to part and briefly permit his groin to press into her flesh and then in shifting her weight, she rubbed against it and the fabric of her skirt clung and bunched between them.

Erica jolted forward to create space between them but her skirt stayed slightly gathered into her cleft. The intimacy of the contact was not intentional and she turned her head to apologise for invading his space.

“Hi. Mark, is it? I’m really sorry about clattering into you. Trains eh? Why do we commute through this hell?” and she flashed a smile that she hoped would be friendly but not flirtatious .

“No harm, no foul. Yes, I’m still Mark and I’m still far too hot on this sardine tube. And I’m not gonna lie to you, it wasn’t the worse experience I’ve had today. In fact, I kinda enjoyed it. My bad?” And there was that perfect smile again that seemed to glint in the sun coming through the windows like an old toothpaste ad.

Erica chuckled and relaxed again that her assault hadn’t resulted in offence and relaxed again. This time making sure that she kept her distance.

“In your own words, no harm no foul. My name’s Erica and I can be equally honest with you by agreeing. So no, you’re not bad.” As she turned back to face away from him, he bent forward.

“Thank you Erica” and then he leant further and closer to her ear before softly adding, “but I want to be bad.” As Mark said this, his hand snaked onto her hip and slid down and over her cheek, gently palpating as it almost caressed her shape.

Erica stiffened at his words but the insistent heat of his breath at her neck when he spoke and the invasive intimacy of both his words and his actions quickly relaxed her and without thinking, she took a half step backwards. To the other passengers, it would have looked as if she had stumbled but Mark and her both knew better than that.

She mumbled under her breath, so that hopefully only he would hear, grateful that those closest to her had iPods or similar masking her words from them, “O yes? And what would be bad?”

Erica heard the words from her lips but didn’t remember thinking them and certainly blushed at what she had said. She felt her neck and the slopes of her cleavage tingle as a result. Not only that but her heart and stomach reacted too. Beating a little faster and wobbling a little as they had when she saw Mark’s face for the first time.

Mark moved his right foot forward a half pace also, again appearing to stumble and stabilise himself but in reality moulding his hip and groin into Erica’s rear. His left arm reached beyond Erica’s head to grab the rail. This simple manoeuvre almost folding her slight form into his embrace. In whichever direction she now moved, other than forwards, her body would rub up against Mark’s.

He bent his mouth to her ear again, softly speaking, “I find actions so much easier to express than words. Don’t you?” and his right hand surreptitiously rested on his leg, allowing his fingers to stretch forward and grasp the fabric of her skirt. Slowly and imperceptibly, Mark’s fingers clutched and released Erica’s skirt, drawing it up her legs and keeping it raised with, but shielded from the carriage by, his thigh.

Panic was quickly overcome with pleasure as Erica realised that no one else could see what was happening and that Mark seemed to know what he was doing. Each time his thigh pressed forward, she could feel hard muscle and engorged flesh press into her. Again, without realising what her body was doing before it was doing it, her left arm dropped, obscured by their bodies and her hand made contact with his thigh. It was her turn now to inch and explore as her fingers walked along to his fly.

Mark sighed softly as Erica’s palm smoothed its way along his length and was filled with throbbing insistence. Gauging size and girth, Erica’s eyes twinkled wide open and suddenly her legs didn’t feel the strain of standing any more.

By this time, Erica felt more exposed and realised that her skirt was now gathered above her cheeks which were partially nude apart from the damp jersey cotton of her briefs that were bunching into her crack. As a result, Mark’s fingers felt that they were now stroking and squeezing her naked globes. God, this guy was good. He knew what he was doing and there was nothing bad about what that was.

Erica closed her eyes and the train and its other passengers melted away into the background. Even the tortured rattle and clatter of steel on steel as the train sped along the tracks was muffled and subdued as her pulse raced and her heart pounded in her chest and in her ears.

Slick fingers on slick skin at her behind were clawing the jersey into a tighter bunch, revealing more and more of her exposed derriere. She no longer minded, in fact she wished that he would remove them completely. Not that she would suggest or initiate such a wanton advance. She was stimulated heavily and enjoying every moment of this encounter but she wasn’t about to admit to herself, let alone him just how turned she felt now.

Well, not strictly speaking true. And speaking was the thing. She wasn’t going to give voice to her arousal. She wasn’t going to puncture the cocoon of desire with clumsy words. No. As he himself had said, actions speak louder than words and the actions of her body were betraying her. Her feet kept sliding slightly further apart. Her breaths were becoming deeper and more laboured. Her bust rose and fell with exaggerated motion as each breath was sucked in and exhaled. Perspiration beaded on her face, lips, her cleavage and beneath the waist of her skirt. (After all, a lady doesn’t sweat.)

Mark’s fingers advanced once more and probed through the gathered fabric of her briefs, making easy work of circumnavigating them to touch the flesh beneath. Once there, they slid and danced across and between moist curves. Erica had to confess that it may not be perspiration that was easing his passage through her, well through her passage. She’d never been a fan of having her backside messed about with during sex but oddly, it didn’t feel strange at this very moment. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to have a complete stranger finger and grope her there.

A further shift of Erica’s feet and a tilt of her hips provided Mark with further encouragement, as if any were needed, to continue his loving finger work on her instrument. Erica was completely surrendered to the moment. Each one of which was stretched out and snapped with exquisite release. She was being plucked and prepared. Her breath catching in her throat as heat burned between her thighs. Erica even found herself rubbing those thighs together and squeezing Mark’s hand.

All of this was new territory, Erica had no frame of reference for being ravaged in public, let alone by a complete stranger. Although previous boyfriend’s had got fresh with her in public, she had always remained composed and politely, but firmly re-directed their fumbling hands or other parts to where she could shield her modesty.

Erica’s thoughts were brought abruptly back to the present by a two-fold stimulus. Mark’s thumb had pressed against the crinkled rose of her anus, not pushing in or violating her there but establishing a curious presence. Whilst at the same time, his first finger had curled up and most definitely had violated. She could feel his fingernail, clipped and neat, stroking the wet, swollen flesh inside her vagina.

Vagina? That was an odd word to pop into her head. She hadn’t said the c-word or any other slang expression. No, she had been anatomically correct and Mark seemed anatomically confident and experienced to head straight for a few pleasure points. Some of which Erica knew about, and some she hadn’t felt touched before. God, she wanted him to quit playing about and finish her off. If she didn’t some relief soon, she was going to turn around and jump up into his lap.

Jump? She was thinking about jumping this stranger? What was she thinking. It was one thing to have her lady parts diddled and fiddled but it was quite another to admit entry to persons unknown just to rub her itch. But God, she really itched now and only a damn good scratching was going to do it. She flickered an eye open to gaze at the scenery speeding by. There was about half an hour until the first station out of the city and another quarter of an hour after that for her stop.

Grrrrrrr! At least an hour until she was home and could strip off to take matters into her own hands. Until then, she relaxed back into Mark’s hands and enjoyed the ride.

Mark was not a mind reader, he had no clairvoyant power of any kind but he was a virile 30 – something who had been fortunate enough to number a small group of very beautiful women as his lovers. Each of whom and flattered him on his techniques whilst at the same time offering minor adjustments and suggestions that improved not only that relationship but also those that came after. Or sometimes, came and came and came and came after. Erica was now benefitting from the instruction of Mark’s previous lovers and she definitely seemed to be enjoying it. Each time her breathing changed or stance shifted or she raised or lowered her hips to him, he could read those movements and adjusted his ministrations to take things up a notch.

Now it was Mark’s turn to look out of the window. He made the same calculation to the first station but his conclusion was not the same as Erica’s. He read this as a closing window of opportunity. If he were get some relief of his own, he now had less than thirty minutes until the doors would open and who know what chaos that would bring to the passengers around him that were keeping his actions covert.

Erica was close. So close now. She bit her lip and briefly wondered how loud her climax would be and could she maintain her dignity and relative silence so as not to attract the attentions of those around her. Gradually she tuned back in to the background noises, trying to gauge the underlying level. As she concentrated on multi-tasking, thank God she was a woman after all, her ears detected a new sound behind her.

Just above the sound of the train and Mark’s controlled, but heavy breathing, she distinctly heard the sound of a zipper’s teeth as they were slowly and deliberately unmeshed.

Erica was contemplating what this might mean when she felt a slight chill at her rump. Mark’s fingers were still present but instead of probing, they were spreading.

She was still contemplating what this meant, multi-tasking one other task whilst riding pleasure’s waves was one thing but the concentration to add on another left her mental faculties dulled, when she felt a familiar but yet not familiar mushroom headed butt against her, well against her butt.

As she turned her head slightly and a question swam to the surface of her conflicted mind, she looked into Mark’s eyes. They were confident. They were assured. They were kind. But they were determined.

She yielded. She submitted. She surrendered. She permitted the intrusion. The penetration. The invasion.

Mark leaned into her, leading with his hips and briefly bending and extending his knees, giving him the purchase necessary to advance towards his goal. Inch by inch he inserted his throbbing manhood between Erica’s butt cheeks. Swollen flesh grazed and scraped along the seams of her briefs, still intact but bunched and held aside by his other hand.

And then, then with agonising inevitability the crown of his erection pressed to her engorged sex. Erica’s breath was snatched from her lips as recognition, realisation and resignation washed over her. She could feel the girth that she had felt earlier demanding access. Its pulsating tip had crested her swollen labia and was insinuating itself deeper. Her briefs, which had previously guarded her against invasion were now conspiring and assisting in Mark’s navigation of her body. She could feel vein and muscle rub their length along the cleft of her womanhood.

A sigh bubbled out as a whimper as she felt Mark’s penis make contact with her clitoris. Erica was drowning in pleasure and it seemed there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she wanted to, she had no thought of swimming to the surface and the modesty that it would afford. Instead she inclined her hips further and pressed her fingers between her legs, urging and directing the invasion.

Mark’s relief at her consent and supplication manifested in exaggerated rocking and rippling of his hips and thighs and gradual advancement. He used the motion of the train’s rattle and roll to cover his actions. Inch by luxuriating inch he continued to immerse himself in her warm, moist embrace.

The light was fading now, morphing from daylight to dusk and the fluorescence of the carriage lighting jarred and flashed as Erica’s eyes snapped open. They were unseeing and unfocused as delirious pleasure consumed her every sense and blocked out every sight, sound and feeling that wasn’t directly emanating from her arousal.

The conquest claimed another victim as Mark felt the sheen of Erica’s buttocks glide across his thighs, confirming that he had pushed himself inside her fully. Erica squeezed and adjusted to caress and cocoon Mark’s penis. Its steely determination, throbbing and resolute caressed in a velvet glove, yielding and accepting.

Mark took hold of Erica’s hips with the assured confidence that normally comes with the familiarity of a lovers’ union formed time and time again over many years. Instead this had come from a chance embrace with a kindred spirit. It was of no relevance that she would have never considered herself a kindred spirit. Whilst she was confident enough to accept lovers in the privacy of a bedroom, or even a kitchen or living room she had always baulked at even leaving the blinds open.

And yet here she was, legs spread, thighs apart, wide open and wanton. Their coupling now established rhythm and purpose. Neither could thrust for fear of discovery but it was hard. Deliciously, excruciatingly, unbelievably hard not to smash back and forth, heedless of those around them. So hard not to sweep them aside, regardless of the consequences, and slam Erica against the side of the train and pound her, hard.

Hearts pounding, pulses racing, limbs trembling and with exquisite inevitability, the levers that held back Erica’s orgasm all clicked into place and unlocked with slick precision. Her toes curled, her calves stiffened, her knees buckled, her buttocks clenched, her stomach quivered, her breasts heaved, her nipples tingled, her neck blushed, she bit her lower lip, her nostrils flared, her eyes glistened and her blood was on fire.

With a presence of mind, she did not know she possessed, she plucked a scrap of ‘kerchief from her pocket and brought it to her face.

Her climax crested and broke and with superhuman restraint she masked her moaning sigh with a forced sneeze. Now you may relish the buzz that a good sneeze and the rush that follows but this is nothing to the endorphin charged ecstasy that flooded Erica’s senses and left her beached on the shoreline of normality, letting waves of post orgasmic shock wash over her.