The Silver Anklet Ch. 05

'Mummy's here for you darling baby girl,' she whispered gently as she held my head against her bosom. 'Did you come for mummy sweetie? Such a naughty little baby!'

After what seemed like ages, I gradually came round to some semblance of normality and Christine eased me away from her reluctantly as I roused myself and stood down from the table. I was a little unsteady on my legs and she grabbed me to prevent me falling and I pulled her towards me and kissed her passionately, pushing my tongue in to meet hers. her body was soft and warm against me as she held me for a few more minutes before gently releasing me from her grip.

'I'd love you to stay but I guess you need to be getting home sweetie. I hope you'll come back again so we can play some more, and you can tell me all about your old man friend, you dirty little thing!' she laughed. Christine called me a taxi and I had just about enough time before it arrived to take a shower and make myself reasonably presentable.

'You certainly travel light don't' you? You're lucky it's still warm outside otherwise you'd catch your death,' laughed Christine, as she watched me dress in just the T-shirt and short denim skirt I had arrived in. 'Be careful how you get in and out of the taxi. You don't want to give the driver a heart attack!' she added, raising my skirt and slapping me playfully on the bare bottom.

The taxi arrived shortly after and we quickly said our goodbyes and I promised to call her, although I wasn't quite sure how I would be able to manipulate a further meeting because of the distance between us and our respective jobs and other commitments.

I arrived at the station for the journey back to London and the onward journey to my home town feeing incredibly relaxed and calm and at peace with the world. Physically, though, I felt a little sore and swollen 'down below' which was, of course, hardly surprising considering what had occurred over the last 24 hours. The afternoon was sunny and warm which enhanced my feeling of well-being and I skipped along the station concourse wheeling my suitcase behind me giggling to myself, which prompted some strange looks from fellow passengers.

The train wasn't very crowded as it was still too early for the evening commuter rush and I found myself alone in the relatively luxurious first class compartment. I settled myself down in the large, comfortably padded seat and, wearing my sunglasses against the glare of the bright sunlight that reflected into the carriage from the glass roof of the station, I took out the magazine I had bought in the station shop for the journey home. I became engrossed in the facile celebrity stories in the magazine as I heard a whistle and the train jolted and slowly began to move. At that point I noticed out of the corner of my eye another person entering the compartment, clearly out of breath and panting. I looked up and saw an elderly Asian man in a smart business suit sit down in the seat opposite and place a briefcase on the empty seat next to him. He was short and thin, with just a few wisps of thin grey hair on the sides of his head and a thin grey moustache. He wore thick framed spectacles which appeared to be too large for his small head, giving him a frog-like appearance. We mumbled greetings, and I went back to my magazine while the man unfurled a newspaper and began to read.

The sun streamed in through the window as the train made its way southwards and the warmth of the sun and the rhythmic noise of the wheels against the rails eventually made me doze and then fall asleep, still clutching the magazine. After what must have been only a few minutes, I awoke with a start at the sudden change in rhythm and noise as the train entered a tunnel. The train came out of the tunnel and the compartment was bathed once more in sunlight. I looked up and, through the anonymity of my dark sunglasses, noticed that the old man opposite had put down his newspaper and was staring quite openly at my legs. He was obviously unaware I was looking at him staring at me and he must have thought I was still reading my magazine which I still clutched in front of me. I then realised to my horror that I had slid further down in my seat and my legs were gaping open by about a foot, causing my already short skirt, to rise even further up my thighs. I realised this must have happened while I had dozed off and my body had relaxed. I know I should have immediately clamped my legs together but for some reason I didn't. I was intrigued by the old man's look of wide-eyed intensity as he continued to stare downwards and I suddenly felt a jolt of lust pass through my body at the thought of this innocuous looking little old man taking such great pleasure in studying my body and I could only guess what was going through his mind as he stared at me. I was sure that I wasn't in such a position where he could see my bare pussy but I think I must have been close to exposing myself as I could see the old man slowly slide down his seat in order to get a better look. By this time I was getting extremely turned on by the sight of this little old man taking pleasure in the sight of my slim young legs lewdly gaping open and I decided to take things further to see how he would react.

Still pretending to read the magazine, I gradually pulled my legs further apart an inch at a time over the course of several minutes, hoping to give the impression that I was engrossed in the magazine and unaware of what was happening. As I did so, I could see the man's mouth slowly open and the tip of his tongue moving backwards and forwards along his lips. I wriggled further down in my seat and could feel my skirt ride still further up my legs, while my swollen and sore cunt began to moisten again. Oh no, not again! I thought to myself as my body seemed to take on a mind of its own and I luxuriated in the knowledge of the pleasure I must be giving the old pervert opposite. The old man continue to gaze intently between my legs and I guessed by now he must have had a glimpse of my glistening pussy lips as perspiration formed on his face and his hand began to reach down and rub himself on the front of his trousers.

I slid still further down in my seat and moved my legs further apart whilst my knees inched closer to the man until finally they gently brushed against his own knees. He let out an audible gasp as they touched and I applied a little more pressure. By now I had abandoned all pretence that my movements were accidental and unintended. I wildly kicked off my flat ballet pumps and placed my feet either side of the man on the seat in front of me. Wordlessly, the man slid both his hands up my calves, across my knees and slowly up the inside of my thighs until they met between my legs and grabbed hold of my pussy roughly. I let out a squeal, and moved my hips in rhythm with the movement of his long, bony fingers which had slid into my soaking opening. His fingers worked on me expertly – neither too rough nor too gentle – making a crude squelching noise as they pumped into me.

'Yes! Yes!' I screamed, as my hips bucked against the movement of his fingers while my legs spread open crudely and rested against his shoulders with my bare feet dangling in the air, my toes curling in pleasure, and the little bells on my anklet tinkling sweetly with the movement. I slipped completely down to the floor while my legs remained over his shoulders. I pulled up my T-shirt exposing my tits and began rubbing my now erect nipples for his further pleasure. I could hear the old man gasping and looked up to see him wanking away furiously with his other hand at his small erect cock which was poking out of his trousers. I began to feel the familiar orgasmic feelings rise within me just as I noticed that the train was slowing down. I glanced quickly out of the window and became aware, with horror, that we were coming into a station. Both the man's hands were now working frantically and he suddenly made a loud, continuous moan and his spunk shot into the air and onto my legs and tummy in five or six short but productive bursts. This brought me over the edge, and I thrashed on the floor as my orgasm hit me and thrust my head back and let out a wild scream. As my orgasm subsided I managed somehow to come to my senses just before the train came to a halt and I stood up on unsteady legs while frantically re-arranging my clothing to some degree of respectability before anyone could see me.

As the train juddered to a halt, the man quickly gathered his briefcase and without a further word briskly got out of the carriage and scurried away along the platform without a glance in my direction. As this wasn't my stop, I collapsed in my seat trying to catch my breath. I heard movement, and looked up to see two well-dressed, middle-aged women enter the compartment both carrying several bags of shopping. They looked in my direction and both of them gave me strange looks. I must have looked a picture, as my hair was tousled and unkempt, my legs were splattered with semen and my T-shirt stained. There were also a few spots of semen on the floor around my still bare feet. There was also a strong smell permeating the air which I realised was a mixture of the old man's come and my own love juices.

'Errr... sorry,' I mumbled apologetically as I stumbled between them and gathered my shoes, which were scattered around the compartment and I stumbled slightly as I slipped them back on my feet. I settled back down in my seat as the train moved off, and surreptitiously attempted to cover the small pools of semen on the floor with my feet, while at the same time wiping the come from my legs with a tissue. The women sat at the other end of the compartment and I saw them exchange glances and whisper quietly at each other, occasionally looking in my direction, then looking away again and giggling conspiratorially. I was still wearing my sunglasses so I was able to avoid eye contact with them and picked up my magazine in an attempt to act normally. After a few minutes I slipped out of the compartment to the toilet to tidy myself up and took my bag with me. After I had taken a few steps along the corridor I heard the women laughing uproariously, I stopped in my tracks and heard them say to each other:

'My god, she looked like she had just been fucked!' Did you see the stuff running down her legs?'

'I think you're right. It stank of sex in there too! Do you think it was that little old guy we saw get off just now?'

'No, surely not. She's a pretty little thing and he didn't look as if he had it in him.'

I could hear them laughing loudly as I hurried away. After I had cleaned myself up I moved to another carriage to avoid any further contact with the women, and settled down in another compartment which luckily was empty.

For the remainder of the journey I reflected on my experiences of the past two days. What a slut I had turned into! I had been fucked in front of an audience of screaming women, had stayed in a hotel room with a fat old friend of the family who had encouraged me to give a blow-job to a sleazy old hotel worker, had been massaged and given a mind-blowing orgasm by a middle-aged mum in her own home, and had let a strange man bring me off on a train while he poured his seed over me. I had experienced three fantastic orgasms and I felt exhilarated and in a perpetual state of sexual excitement. I laughed to myself that my adventures would have made a brilliant porno film. I dearly hoped that I could transfer my heightened sexuality to my darling husband, and was longing to see him and to be his little plaything while we were away together. I had discovered a sexual confidence that I never thought I had and all sorts of plans buzzed around in my head as to how I could please him. I know I should have felt guilty about what I had done but the only guilt I felt was the guilt of not feeling guilty – if that makes any sense. I knew that I loved my husband and could not contemplate a life without him but there was also no way I could now stop being a submissive slut as the feelings and orgasms I had experienced were overwhelming. As my thoughts drifted, I felt the familiar stirrings within me. My hand drifted down to the hem of my little skirt and I slowly pulled it up until my hand was resting on my swollen and used cunt lips. I fingered myself gently at first but gradually increased the tempo and could not stop bringing myself to yet another powerful orgasm before curling up on the seat and drifting off to sleep in a totally relaxed stupor.