Evie and the Trainspotter

"Him?" she cried and crossed her arms as she scowled angrily. "It's impossible." The two office clerks looked out of their office canteen window at a young man, leaning against the bridge and watching the railway junction intently. "He's a train-spotter; he's scared of girls," she added, her abrasive tone of voice not hiding her obvious annoyance at the suggestion.

"That's the deal," her sister teased. "You get him to blow his load, and you can have the car for the weekend." Evie groaned loudly and pushed her long hair behind her ears, adjusting her white cotton top and taking a deep breath. "And a hand job doesn't count."

"Oh for fucks' sake," Evie snapped and gestured wildly at the window. "He is scared of anyone else, you know what he was like at school. How am I going to get near enough to him to make him come."

"I don't care," the tall sister replied, her streak of playful malevolence evident. "That's the deal. It's my turn with our car. I want to go to the beach maybe and ..."

"You can go next weekend. Or go to the cinema. I'll pay for your cinema ticket but I want to meet Emma in Blackpool. Please, I've not seen her for months and she is free this weekend."

"Yes. If you get Michael, to let you get him off." Evie scowled and muttered abuse under her breath. "And if you are going to be like that, I'll say you need to get him off twice. Or maybe, three times," she threatened.

Evie's uncharitable mood was not improved by their boss cutting short their mid-morning break, and Michael running away from the experienced coquette as she approached him during her lunch. Her sister watched from the office window and teased her mercilessly, but the jumper-clad, bespectacled young man returned to the bridge with his notebook as he watched the dozens of trains traversing the busy railway junction opposite the busy office block.

Evie groaned and impatiently counted down the minutes until five, and skipped out of the office seconds after the bell reverberated around the computers and desks. Her sister laughed heartily as she watched the young lady tore across the car park, calling out Michael's name.

He bolted the moment he saw her; he was used to being chased, but Evie was determined and sprinted over the bridge and onto the overgrown path that bordered the railway. She saw him, the faded colouring of his clothing blending in with the subtle hues of the foliage. "Michael! I want to fuck you," Evie yelled, hoping that the promise of uncomplicated sexual shenanigans would stop him; it didn't. Michael jumped over tree roots and rabbit holes as he ran down the abandoned footpath alongside the railway fence.

The chaser could barely keep up as she took great lungfuls of air; her sides burning and her feet aching: her shoes were not designed for physically chasing young men. She yelled out again, pleading with him to stop, but he didn't. He had been hurt too many times by bullies before to risk it, and she redoubled her efforts, anxiously taking bigger strides to reach him.

Evie's ankle hit something immovable and she screamed, her momentum taking her towards the ground as her feet hit a tree root. She squealed in pain as she twisted her ankle and her chest landed painfully on the ground. Evie swore into the afternoon air and sat on the cold, soft earth, rubbing her ankle and wincing in pain. She looked down the path, and saw no movement, before slowly rotating her foot. She hated her sister!

"Are you hurt?" A meek, low voice asked from her right, causing her to jump in fright. She looked at her intended prey, standing a few feet away from her and looking at the office clerk with a bemused, puzzled expression; a few stains adorned his tatty jumper and she looked him up and down: from his dark, polished shoes to his unkempt black, curly hair.

"I need to screw you," she sniffed, still panting. He shook his head and backed away from the demanding woman, and she called out his name. "Oi." He pulled his coat around his shoulders tightly and she sniffed, watching him edge further from her painful body. "Wait!" She took a few deep breaths and looked at his deep blue eyes. "Please don't leave me, I'm not sure if I can walk on this. It might be broken." He glanced up at the darkening sky overhead and then at the girl sat on the wet mud and took a few steps forward, gingerly offering his hand.

Evie winced – partly out of genuine pain, but mostly for effect – and hopped on her good leg. She saw him nervously looking around him as she wrapped her arm around his shoulder. He tensed up as they made two steps towards the town.

The soft patter of the raindrops on leaves punctuated their brief silence and she looked at him, staring onto the train line, and towards an old signal cabin, a few feet from the overgrown path. "I can get us in there," she promised. "I bet I can."

"You can't, it's locked," he muttered and she stopped on the path.

"Surely you want to have a look. And shelter from the rain." He shivered as a rain drop ran down the back of his neck and the young lady pulled her blouse closer to her skin; she had forgotten her coat as she sprinted away from the office and was regretting it; the hot summer's day had descended into a downpour. "It'll be gone soon."

He hesitated, but Evie pulled him towards the pale blue wooden building and yanked a few branches out of their path. "I'm not sure ..." He stammered as her white blouse turned translucent in the torrential rain. As they reached the door to the disused signal cabin, she took her two hairpins from the top of her head and slid them into the lock. Michael watched with awe as a few seconds later, the door sprang open and she hobbled inside.

She was surprised that the cabin was still dry, and warm, and she pulled Michael into the vast wooden structure, the only clue to it's former use being the myriad of holes in the floor. Michael's eyes sparkled as she closed the door firmly, allowing it to lock behind her.

"Now," she started, touching him on the top of his hand and smiling at him. "I have to screw ..."

Michael jerked his hand away and shook his head. "No," he cried, and strode over to the locked door, rattling it eagerly.

"What is it with you? I turn down offers of dates every week and one time I am offering a guy sex without the date, he runs away!" Evie thundered and crossed her arms.

"Let me out of here," he cried. "This is a trap."

"No. It's still raining," Evie snapped and bit her lip. "What is it with you?"

"I ... I ... I don't want that trouble."

She groaned and ran her hands through her hair, squeezing the excess water onto the floor of the cabin, sighing dramatically. "Look, I'll be honest, I need to borrow my sister's car and she won't let me unless I make you squirt your load. I need to fuck or suck your brains out, 'cause I have a friend at University and I haven't seen her for months and I really miss her and ... and I just really need your help. Please?"

He shook his head and rattled the door knob again, hoping that the lock would give way to him. "I can't. I don't want ... it."

Evie hummed. "OK. I respect that. I just need to take my top off to dry," she muttered and looked into his eyes as her hands removed her see-through soaked top and lifted it over her head. "And my bra is soaked," she exclaimed in mock surprise. "If you wouldn't mind ..."

"Oh God," he muttered and he closed his eyes. "I can't be here."

"Sure you can," she purred, her voice carrying over the pattering of the rain on the window.

"There's the special mail train. It only comes past once a year and I need to be on the bridge and ..."

"You can see it from here," she softly interrupted as she gave up waiting for Michael to undo her brassiere and unclipped it herself. "Ahhh," she cried. "That's better. Air, circulating!"

Michael stammered and looked away, trying the locked door once again. "Please, I got to go. I've got to be on the bridge."

"And my skirt. My skirt is so muddy and wet," Evie muttered and slid her hands down her breasts, and then her body to hook her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt and knickers to push them to the floor. Michael locked his eyes tightly shut as his nemesis undressed behind him, and she hung her clothes on a couple of hooks in the ceiling.

"That's so much better," she softly said and touched him on his hand. He squealed and flinched in shock.

"Oh please no," he begged. "No, no, no," he panted, hyperventilating and sniffing as he tried to push her away. She gripped his wrist and held tightly, causing his notepad to fall on the floor and clatter in the cabin.

"Look at me," she whispered seductively and he gulped.

"I can't."

"Look at me," she demanded, more forcefully, and grabbed his other wrist. "Look. I'm naked. It's fine." She smiled at his refusal to ogle her and she leant in to whisper into his ear. "I want to take you to heaven," she promised. He tried to wrench his hands from her grasp but she held on to his bony wrist. "And if you want to see that train, you need to open your eyes."

He clenched his fists and begged Evie to stop tormenting him, but the young lady moved her sensuous body closer and pinned him against the cabin wall, kissing the reluctant young man on the lips. He groaned and panted, desperate to escape from her seduction, but she slid her hands along his arms and grabbed his waist, kissing him on the neck and whispering into his ear. "If you have a wonderful time, then I will have a wonderful time tomorrow. I promise not to hurt you. Trust me."

He stammered and opened his eyes, gasping at the sight of the shapely young lady, naked except for her shoes, standing in front of him. "I'm all yours," she promised and saw him glance at his watch and rattle the door handle.

"Let me go. I've got ten minutes," he begged, panting and gulping at her nude form. She crossed her arm and shook her head, as he reached for the pocket of his jacket and withdrew some binoculars. "He stared out of the window and cried as his eyes focused on a signal. "It's green. It's early. Please let me go. Let me out of here. Please."

She shook her head, and gestured to the rain-soaked window. "Watch it. Watch it here," she offered, pushing her bosom into the room, and watching his face twist with anguish. "It's here, or nowhere."

Tears rolled down his cheek as she snubbed the stricken young man's desperate pleas and the tracks started to vibrate. He swallowed loudly, and looked out over the railway, staring into the distance with his glasses and binoculars.

"Is it coming?" She asked softly as she walked around him.

"Yes," he excitedly cried.

"Can you see it?" He shook his head and strained into the distance; his eyes not moving away from the end of the tunnel that marked the limits of his vision. She knelt in front of him, her back touching the cold wood of the signal box. "Whatever I do, you just keep watching for that train," she whispered. "You don't want to miss it, do you?"

He snorted, and she reached for his trousers, gently unzipping his fly. He didn't notice, but flinched as her hands touched his white Y-Fronts underneath and he panted. "Please. Not now. Not now," he begged.

"Just watch for that train. Can you see it?" She asked with a mischievous smirk.

He groaned as Evie released his erect cock from his sodden underpants and she kissed the tip. "I can see the lights of the train in the tunnel," he cried excitedly as Evie impaled her mouth on his firm dick, sucking as she withdrew her mouth along his manhood and rotating her grip over his shaft.

He gasped, open mouthed as the girl fellated him; unknown sensations delighting his senses as her tongue swept over his untouched cock, and he squealed in pleasure.

"Six," he yelled, as Evie's mouth sucked furiously on his glans; his balls tightening and his toes tingling. He put a hand on the frame of the window for balance, as he cried out; the pleasurable feelings were incredible!

"Eight," he panted; lust and passion snapping at his resolve as Evie's finger pressed on his perineum. His legs wobbled and quivered as he desperately fought his instinctive urges and Evie's experienced fellatio.

"Nine," he squealed desperately; his vision becoming almost blurred as his glasses steamed; he was on the edge of that point, but he needed just one more number. His body tensed and he fought; fought against Evie's expert fellatio as his eyes squinted to read the last number on the side of the train.

"Twoooooooo–" He screamed, yelling into the abandoned hut as waves of intense energy powered through his body; unleashed from years of pent-up denial and flooding the obliging young lady's mouth with his cum as he slumped against the signal box. He shook; his senses overloaded as Evie smiled. She smiled wickedly, eagerly swallowing the products of the young man's loins and rubbing her clit, as he looked down at her; his body consumed with an unstoppable tsunami of incredible lust.

He panted, watching as she allowed his cock to fall from her cum-drenched lips. "I promised you heaven," she whispered and kissed the tip of his dick; his legs buckled and he grabbed hold of the windowframe, still panting.

She smiled at him. "What did you do?"

"What any good girl knows how to do," she said, a little sanctimoniously. "Amazing, huh?"

He nodded and blew air through his teeth. "Yeah."

Evie reached for her nearly dry clothes and got dressed, but passed Michael her white underwear. "A keepsake," she teased and bit her lip, blowing him a kiss and ruffling his hair. "And thanks."

He nodded, watching her put her dirty, wet clothes over her body and pulled at the door knob. "See ya around," she cried as the flirtatious lady skipped into the torrential rain and onto the footpath, leaving behind a satisfied, but overwhelmed young man.