Victoria - A Stranger on the Train

"Okay... Well, what do you mean? Did it work--HOLY--! How did you CLIMB up there!? DON'T move."

"Wait."

"Okay," she said, smiling through seconds of indistinct chatter, until there was a loud crash. "Hello!? Malcom? Hello!?"

"Babe? I'll call you back. The baby pushed the bookshelf again," he groaned. "He's okay. Talk to you later, bye."

"Bye."

Her little rascal was enough trouble to kill himself thrice a day if left unsupervised, she thought amused. Good thing his father knew him like the back of his hand; his right hand. She wished she knew her own body that well, maybe then she wouldn't feel an old man's hands on her breasts still. How was she going to explain it to her husband?

She looked down at her left tit, and sighed. "Bitch."

Where there used to be a leaking stream of droplets, now there was nothing. Clogged, blocked or whatever, nothing was coming out. She mulled over getting off at the next station to get herself a pump and just pay for a taxi, hopefully she'd make it on time. She was staring through the window at a huge mass of desert cloudy nothing when the short, old man returned.

"Alright, love. Are you ready?"

"Hm. Not exactly. I think I'm gonna get off at the next station."

"Oh. Yeah. Going back to your baby? You really should try to express some first, though. Where is he?"

"No. I'll just buy a pump. I have some business in a couple days. I won't see him till next week."

"What? No. No, I'm sorry, love, you will do no such thing."

"Excuse me?" she frowned.

"A pump won't work. Trust me, I know what to do. C'mere."

Victoria held her palm in front of him.

"Okay...I'm not sure of what makes you say that, but what you did didn't work either," she said, standing and picking up her purse. "I appreciate all your help."

"Wait. I'll tell you a story," he said, sitting. He went on to tell the tale of his sister's ordeal, stressing gory details and expressions. Describing every process and the faces that came along with them. Victoria's went from indignant resolve to restless hesitation. "...she had no husband or insurance back then, so I paid for everything. Love, the face she made when the needle went in... I've never forgotten it. It started off just like yours. Stiff, nothing came out. You'd be better off at the doctor's on the next station, just do not settle with the pump."

"What happened to her?"

"In the end? That breast went dry. I remember a lot of pills... The recovery was slow, painful. They had to drain her two more times too. Expensive, it was very expensive. She switched to formula in the end. Depression wasn't a thing back then, but now I think she caught it after that. With two jobs, breastfeeding was like a thing, you know? Between her and the baby."

Victoria nodded. She felt contempt, but she didn't know why.

"So, what do you recommend?" she said, warily attentive for any questionable glances.

"Take off your shirt."

She instinctively raised a hand to the first button.

"We already did that."

"So we try again, love. If we don't get anything, I'll try something else. C'mon, stand up," he patted her knee. "Go on."

Her heart beat with impulse again, standing in front of him. Victoria looked at the door and back at him, thinking of rushing past sans her purse, leaving the train at the next station. He undid the first button while she toyed with the idea.

She took hold of the next along with some fabric and said, "No! I can do it."

Victoria took a deep breath before inching her way down to the last button, parting her white shirt with trembling hands, baring her tits to the old man voluntarily for the first time.

The man pulled her hip closer with a frown, apparently concentrated. Victoria's tits swayed inches from his face, nipples leveled to his pained eyes. His hands reached to cup them, weighing them carefully.

"I know how to do it now," she said, stepping back to take command of the massaging. She turned and stood before the sink, kneading them in circles for minutes. The old man shadowed her, staring and correcting through the small mirror.

"Remember to relax," he said, caressing her arms from behind, "you're so tense. Let down your shoulders," he asked, massaging them with both hands. Victoria moved her neck side to side, an effort to relieve some stress from the area. This was her last shot, either this worked or she risked everything.

"Okay, try to express now. Remember what I told you, love, you grab it here," he said, grabbing her areola, "and then...and then..."

She looked back with embarrassed attention. Turning her head by the chin, he slid his tongue into her lips. His moustache tickled her nose. He tongued her insides over her whimpers, fondling her tit thoroughly.

"HMM!" she struggled against his grip, "ugh...what are you--? HMMM!"

After unzipping his cock, his hands roamed in search of the edge of her tight skirt, raising it with difficulty until it was wrapped around her waist.

"Oh my God! HMM! Huh--"

"Don't worry, love. This will help you relax," he panted.

She pushed him away to step by the window, breathing heavily, staring at him, awed and scandalized.

"Have you lost your mind!?" she exclaimed, nervously trying to untangle her skirt around her hips. Her tits swayed heavy.

He walked towards the window, dick in hand, and led her back against the glass, raising her leg over his forearm. Her panties showed; he wrestled with her fingers to set them aside.

"Mister! What are you doing!? What are you DOING!?" she exclaimed, pointlessly trying to wake him from his daze.

He put the small triangle aside, and sensed her labia with his purple head, looking for the entrance by touch and memory. The girl squirmed, moving her hips to prevent it. Still, being so close, there wasn't much room to maneuver. Her bucking and writhing only served to smear her lips with his precum.

He leaned in to exchange fluids with her mouth once more. It pinned her to the window, and distracted her long enough for him to find her opening. With one swift flex of the knees his whole glans was inside the young blonde.

"Hmph!" she exhaled into his mouth, turning her head to breathe a "Huh-UH!" before staring at him as if he had just stabbed her heart.

He fed her more of his shaft, almost all.

"Hhgn!" she groaned, puffing. She put a hand to his gut, before he shoved it in full. "OOH! My God! Oh my God, you're inside me, you're inside me," she panted.

He got closer, pressing her tits into him. His seesawing was slow, as though testing if he still knew how. She wrapped an arm around him, like a cat coming out of its first bath, "Oh my God, this can't be real -- this isn't happening!"

Now confident his hip hadn't forgotten, he grabbed her ass to pick up the pace -- not terribly so; he would savour her pussy like a man savours his last meal. Slow, deliberate thrusts seasoned with a pinch of intent, just so, that she could moan at the tip of his cock grazing some invisible barrier.

"... AH!... AH!... AH!" her head jerked to the rhythm of each knock into her uterus' door.

It was heaven. Her pussy was warm, it was tight, it was velvet. He leaned in full until her chin was over his shoulder, his thrusts adding a bit much of intent, and let go, cumming as deep as the angle let him. His sperm was ambassador to ten years of pent up urges.

"MISTER!" she exclaimed, gasping to the feel of each boiling rope, "UH! Are you--? AH! You came inside--? UH! You're coming inside me!" her eyes showed she still hoped it was a dream. "MISTER!"

"... Mister um..." a voice called. "Sir?"

"Uh-- What? Yeah?"

"Would you please let go? You're hurting me."

He shook off from his fantasy to look at her, hunched over the sink with a grimace. He was pinching her nipple, apparently too hard.

"OH! I'm sorry, sweetcake," he said as she, almost pouting, caressed her nub. "I'm so sorry. I-I was thinking of something else. I-- Uh... Wait here."

His knees failed. He barely got to close the door behind him before leaning back against the wall. His heart beat dangerously fast.

His hand gripped his shirt. Is this it? He thought, Is this how I'm gonna go?

He'd dreamed of the blonde, sweating and full of his semen. A fantasy, but his guilt felt very real. It was choking him. It was one thing to flirt (in fact, after a certain age he discovered that he could get away with a little touching here and there), but this was something else entirely. For a much too long moment he'd been young again -- a perverse teenager who spent his days guessing the color of catholic girls' panties, even at church. A phase supposedly over. He was a catholic man, a family man -- a grown man. This time he'd go to jail for sure.

Don't-- DON'T! God... HELP me! I could be her grandfather!

The drumming of his blood veiled his sight. He never knew, but after 20 years of bacon flavored cholesterol for breakfast he'd never been so close to a heart attack, nor would he ever be again. Parallel to his pious begging, a black thought wormed his way into motion. He never knew, but that single thought pulled the strings from a corner of his mind and made him stand by the door. Beyond the gap at the curtain was a woman, barefoot, holding out her chest in front of the mirror. Her tan set wide milky rivers traversing through the gilded skin of her breast. It made islands out of her areolae; a secret paradise.

He never knew, but it wasn't really him who opened the door.

-------------

Victoria held her shirt tight by the undone buttons, concealing the pair.

"I've done it a thousand times, sweetcake." His fatherly tone felt full of forced tedium despite his effort. "I can assure you, I know what I'm doing, everything will be fine."

Her stomach turned. There it was again, that tingling sickness under her skirt. It crawled through her skin like a supernatural presence. It gave her the chills. She gulped.

"No."

"Did you make any progress?" He raised his eyebrows, testing her. "We've been at it for what? An hour? Remember my sister? Back when..."

No.

No.

No. This can't be the answer. I'm not supposed to be here. I could be with my laptop sitting in the back of a taxi, maybe half-way there now. Yes. Or maybe less. I'm not supposed to be here!

She sat down, hands clamped down over the white fabric, staring at the door.

He reached for her shoulder, caressing her nude skin, "it's the most natural thing in the world."

She looked up knowing she couldn't hold his gaze.

"I have to talk to my husband."

Victoria rushed past the man, then the door, then the hallway, but there was nowhere to go. She couldn't count on the bathroom for privacy. She couldn't even walk through the car without risking her stay, and then, her only choice would be to leave the train to look for a doctor.

She took out her phone and dialed the full number from memory. Her eyes fixed on the contact's photo; her husband, holding a baby boy. Her breast came alive.

"What would I even say?"

She stared at the screen. She stared at the screen, and cried.

-----------------------

After several minutes and a failed try, she managed to pick herself up from the vibrating floor. Through her small mirror she witnessed a vulnerable mass of blonde locks turn into a confident businesswoman, sans heels. After her makeup, she did her mind. She felt stronger.

When she opened the door, a concerned, wrinkled frown met her resolution.

"Let's do this."

"Alrigh...!"

She undid three buttons in a smooth wave of her hand and took off her shirt right in front of him, throwing it on the opposite cushion. The old man shuddered. His cock jerked with a pulse of its own. At eye level, he could make out the distinctive pores in the pale flesh of her tits. A chubby hand raised itself to meet the pair, then the other. They pawed and caressed in trance.

"... Is that a massage?"

"Yes," he hissed, "ahem. Come a little closer." His grip left no room for opposition, and there wasn't. She stepped between his legs, leaning her breast into his face. "I'm gonna start, baby. Are you ready?"

Holding her breath and dizzy, she shut her eyes fearing the pain; a pain that never came -- only this faint static from her nipple. Looking down she saw her peak, stiff, teased by the old man's short tongue.

Responding to her stare, he reasoned between each lap, "we have to-- stimulate-- first. They gotta be firm."

She shook her head. Victoria couldn't tell when or if he was serious and how much of this was for his own amusement. She still needed it nonetheless.

Men... I swear.

The 'stimulation' continued for much longer than necessary from her perspective. The room felt cold, too cold. She stopped him several times to shake off her goosebumps until he took that task off her hands.

"You have to suck, remember? You stimulated enough. Look, it's very stimulated."

"Hmm! No no, it's not just the nipple. We want the milk to come down."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. She felt trapped. Invisible spiders crawled from her stomach right into her peaks. The man took his sweet time, even with the tiny mounds around the nipple. They were so hard that each time he left one unattended she felt the wind bite into her flesh.

"Could you at least--? Don't do it so...softly."

"Like this?" He took the full dark circle into his mouth. Kissing perhaps, but not sucking.

The tingling moved to the middle of her soles. It was driving her mad. The position suddenly felt terribly uncomfortable. There was this...strong impulse urging her to slap the man.

"Can we get to the sucking now?" She demanded.

"We're close. We need to be patient, okay?"

Victoria took a deep breath. She put her knee right next to his leg, a knee flex shy of straddling him. She felt nausea. Her nipples felt sore -- every twenty seconds she'd instinctively offer the other to the shelter of his warm mouth against the open air.

He thought he saw encouragement. His cock flinched so hard he slipped a hand to squeeze just to relief some of the pain.

"Come here." He sat on the edge and clumsily tried to fit his legs between hers. "Let me just-- Move here... Yes, just like that."

"Wait, no. I have a skirt!"

"Don't worry, we can ride it up like...this."

"Nonono, that's not what I mean!"

"And sit..." he grabbed her hips and set her down a couple inches from his crotch, "right here."

"HE--! Heey!" She desperately tried to cover her rear with the fabric, made impossible by her posture and the nature of the skirt. There was something hard under her leg, something inside his pants. Her other hand pushed her up, back on her feet again. "You CAN'T DO that! What is wrong with you?"

She glared at him whilst covering the 'stimulated' tips of her breasts.

The old man sat back and held her stare. Angry, her eyes, her brow, and even her hair felt so full of passion. She was perfect. Barefoot and topless, standing on his private space, with her skirt somewhat bunched over the top of two firm, tanned thighs. Perfect.

"Girl. I'm just trying to help you. This is serious--"

"Oh please, you have an erection!"

"Well, what the hell did you expect?"

"What!?"

"Girl, I haven't been with a woman in forever. It's been over...ten years. Yeah, ten years since the last time I was with my wife and, God knows I loved her, but she wasn't half the beauty you are, not even back when we got married. I'm trying to help you but I'm not made out of stone -- I mean, not everywhere." He nodded to the outline of his erection on his khakis.

She held an annoyed stare.

"I'm a man, sweetcake. There are things we can't control. You too; like how your nipples got hard."

"You were licking them!"

"And you kept putting them in front of me!"

The blood rushed so fast into her cheeks she began to perspire.

"Each time I was done with one, you'd put the other in--"

"OKAY, okay!" She put out her hands to stop that sentence; in her mind, that hadn't happened. "Can we just not-- I was just doing what you told me, okay?"

"Here's what I mean, love. I opened my door for you and I've offered you my help in every step of the way. But I'm only human. That body of yours is a blessing. Is out of this world. Can you blame an old man?"

Victoria threw her hair back and rubbed her temples.

Beggars can't be choosers, Victoria.

With arms crossed, after much of her leg twitching, she said, "But we are gonna try sucking this time, okay? JUST sucking."

"Alright, come on."

She moved to lean in front of him but he cut her off, sitting right on the edge of the seat. "No, come on. You can sit over my lap. No, not like that, sweetcake. Like riding a horse."

She looked at his cock as he set it straight in a more natural position. "Come on." He patted his lap.

"I'm not comfortable with that."

"Ugh..."

"It's just... My skirt--"

"Love, no one's here to see. I'll be almost an hour before we reach a station." His finger pointed out the window into a barren plain dotted with dirt-yellow hills, extending beyond sight. "It's just you and me."

That was exactly what worried her.

He raised her skirt unceremoniously and wrapped her reluctant legs around his before he set her down once more near his genitals.

"There you go, love. Now, I have to stimulate a bit--"

"WHA--"

"JUST a bit, so we can get back to where we were."

Victoria raised her pleading eyes, wishing some unknown god--or devil--would end this surreal nightmare.

--------------------

She was almost panting now. Her skirt, bunched around her waist, showed a thong that matched the color of her toenails. She couldn't shake the chills -- she was sweating but cold.

"Please. Let's get to the sucking," she whispered.

He raised his head to see a flustered blonde with pink red cheeks. Her lips were so close, open and enticing, but there was something else.

Pale. She looked pale.

"Jeez, baby. Are you okay?" He massaged her shoulders, scanning her expression. Seeing her arms, he tried to rub some heat into them which made her tits jiggle. "I'll get to it."

Sucking mildly on the problematic breast, he put his hand between the dimples on her back and pushed her closer, licking the nipple to keep it stiff every now and then. Her pussy was now placed over the base of his shaft, but she didn't notice this time.

The obnoxious tingling had grown into a distinctive pulsing and it wouldn't go away, no matter what she tried to think of. She couldn't ignore it, like an alarm; only that in this case, she didn't know how to push the button to disable it. Of course that the old man's light grazing and licking made it worse, so much worse.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing? You're being too...soft. Can you suck harder?"

He twirled his tongue and accidentally bit her, which got a pulse strong enough to make her moan.

"AH!"

"Sorry, love."

"It's okay. Just suck a bit harder, okay?" she said, out of breath.

He did, and there was pain no more. Her breath shuddered. She squirmed over his lap, sliding back from his groin. He pulled her close again from her ass.

"Please don't touch me there."

His hands moved down just under her ass and gripped her tight, grinding her subtly into his crotch. Her bent knees were spread over the cushion, so open she could feel his bulge press into that precious button. It seemed to calm the maddening beating that had been tormenting her. Each time they parted the next felt a little stronger.

"Wait, not like that. Stop. Stop moving like that!"

He raised her hips and struggled with his erection, before he set her down again. Latched once more on her tit, he resumed his 'discreet' grinding. She could feel him even harder down there.