Train Journey

She sat on the train headed home and her heart was racing, beating quicker than normal and she could feel it pumping within her rib cage. Her mind was awash with thoughts of passionate sex and her face felt flushed. Was she feeling embarrassed? Could everybody read her mind? Could they see the wet patch that she could feel forming between her thighs?

She hadn't seen him in years and their brief meeting had ignited a sexual tension. The "flames" were almost visible. Was she feeling them alone?

Her face may have been looking out of the train window but her mind was lost to the present. She was in a far away land of only 2 people, meeting, lips tearing in to each other, arms attacking each other's clothes trying to release the hidden pleasures that lay within ...

The train jolting to a stop slowly brought her to her senses. Her legs felt weak and she struggled to stand. But she managed to walk to her car for the drive home - she was thankful for quiet late afternoon roads as her mind could not get rid of the images of her straddling this man, his face smiling at her, his hands reaching for her tits as she ground her hips on to his outstretched cock.

Getting home should have been a relief and a jolt back to her senses ...

But she could not remove these images - so vivid, so powerful, so real. The excitement had meant that her heart had been racing for about an hour and her breathing was getting quite short.

She let herself in to the house, dropped everything just inside the door and raced upstairs to her bedroom where she closed the curtains.

She slipped off her grey suit jacket and slowly, oh so slowly, began to unbutton the buttons of her lilac blouse. As each button was released she imagined that it was his hands slowly peeling the clothes from her body ... With all the buttons undone she let her hands wander across the cups of her 36C bra, her nipples reacting through the fabric as she imagined his touch ...

She eased the blouse out of the waistband of her trousers and let her hands run across her hips ... Desperately, she released her trousers and practically jumped out of them - instinctively, her hand swept across her inner thigh and pressed on the moistness of her crotch. The pressure sent tingles through her body.

Off came the blouse and she was stood naked, except for a smooth white bra and a black thong, her dark skin glowing from the passion burning inside.

She closed her eyes and imagined his hands exploring the outside of her body, imagining him stood behind her and feeling his gentle kisses on her shoulders and neck as his hands caressed each firm tit, the palm resting above the nipple and feeling it rise to the touch. Her own hands moved as if imitating his movements, a left hand reaching inside the right cup of the bra and her right hand sliding down the inside of her thong. The juices were flowing. She felt so hot and wet. She parted her fanny lips just enough to let her finger feel her dampness ...

She started talking to him, unaware that there was nobody around. She could see him so clearly, feel him, smell him, etc. She reached behind and unhooked the bra and then removed the thong. Naked. At last. She lay on the bed.

Her chest was heaving. She could see him stood at the end of the bed, naked. A huge smile on his face highlighted his white teeth, she admired his shoulders and did not allow his poorly defined pecs to detract from the view. She smiled back - but to no one. She lowered her gaze and enjoyed his trim, firm stomach - a six pack trying to get out from behind a slight layer of fat - and then her eyes caught sight of his trouser snake. She imagined that it must be 7+ inches, quite thick and pointing almost vertically. The massive purple head was dark and throbbing. She shivered as she watched him run his hands up and down its length - dragging back the foreskin, sliding his hands around his balls, etc. Oh boy, was she getting excited. She spoke to him - although he wasn't there - encouraging him to play with himself. She wanted to roll forward and take his weapon in her mouth, to feel it tickling the back of her throat whilst her hands caressed his balls and stroked the sensitive skin beneath them ...

She could hear him talking to her:

• Explaining how he wanted to see her fondle her tits, slowly cupping each one, gently squeezing them together, then stroking them softly before circling each nipple with a finger As each nipple responded she squeezed it between thumb and forefinger. For several minutes she just played with her tits, feeling them getting firmer to her touch, and she thought she was in a whirlpool of pleasure.

• She could feel herself dribbling and was pleading with him to let her fingers enter her sopping love tunnel.

• He suggested that she allow one hand to stroke her inner thigh. She obeyed.

• He then asked her if she wanted to feed a finger, gently, in to her pussy. She answered with actions not words.

• Do you want to flare open your lips to show me how desperate you are? Oh yes, she screamed to no-one, pulling apart her lips with one hand and feeding couple of fingers in with the other. In and out she moved them, expertly, relaxing to allow her fingers to probe deep and squeezing them tight as she pulled them away, imagining that it was his cock pummelling in and out of her ...

• She was on fire. Gasping for breath. Where's that G-spot she wondered?

• Quickly, she grabbed her one tit and licked her fingers clean.

• She wanted more. She needed more. How much longer could she bear this pleasure / pain?

• Show me your clit, he whispered. She shuffled towards his image at the end of the bed, opened her legs wide and exposed her swollen love button.

• He encouraged her to let go. To go for it. To pleasure herself. Let me see your body quiver as you cum, he suggested.

• Briefly, she saw him standing at the end of the bed watching her. Smiling. Still playing with his cock. Stroking its full length. Squeezing his pre-cum fluid from the tip.

• She could not hold out any longer. She was out of control.

• Fingers probed in and out of her soaking pussy. At the same time her other hand was playing with her clit, circling it, rubbing it, teasing it, ... Her nipples were aching with the pleasure ...

• She began to feel a rumble in the pit of her stomach and it grew like a snowball racing down a mountain ... Charging. Rampaging. "I am Cumming" she screamed as she exploded in to an orgasm the likes of which she had never previously experienced. It was almost spiritual. Unreal. The juices continued to flow. Her body continued to quiver.

• She carried on teasing her clit. Rubbing it brought the greatest pleasure. She slowed down but the feelings did not subside - she sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her clit, and in her mind her spare hand was playing with his cock and balls. She even had her hand out to the side playing with fresh air. Stroking fresh air. Coupling his non-existent plums. She felt his ball sack tighten as his orgasm took hold, and she imagined his cum landing on her tits. Her one hand rubbed his non-existent seed as the other teased her to a second, deeper, more powerful orgasm.

Wasted. Satisfied. She opened her eyes and his image flickered, smiled, his cock began to go limp and then he was gone. But she had felt him. She needed him. She'd have him again.