Train Story 3
On the train and tired. Go to New York in the morning, home from New York in the evening. Looking around the car, there’s no one enticing. I settle back assuming it will be a tedious ride. The car is mostly empty. I try to decide: do I work or relax. It being my nature, I decide to relax.
I am in empty row. I am in an aisle seat. No one else is nearby. I take out a book and put on some music. Zuco 103. The train rolls slowly ahead. I read absent-mindedly. A youngish woman walks unsteadily down the aisle, looking for a place to sit. Of all the empty seats in the car, she asks if the window beside me is occupied.
I look at the empty seat and then at her. She’s not as young as I thought – probably 35 or so. I thought she was younger because of her clothes. A black t-shirt over a purple turtleneck, khaki pants and cheap canvas sneakers. She has no bags but a blue jacket hanging over her left arm.
She looks at me and then at the seat. “Sorry,” she repeats, “is that seat taken?” I tell her “no” and stand to let her sit. She takes an ipod from her jacket pocket, folds the jacket on her lap, leans back and closes her eyes. I can hear her music faintly playing before I put my own earphones back in.
I begin to collect my things, thinking I’d prefer a row to myself but she puts her hand on my arm to stop me. In a loud, ear-phone influenced voice, she asks me to stay. I settle back into my seat. She pats my arm, leans back again and closes her eyes.
I look at her face. She has tanned skin but pink cheeks with a hint of freckles on them that span her nose as well. Her lips are thin and have no lipstick. She is smiling slightly, forming the words to a song but not singing. Fine lines are on her cheeks and around her eyes.
Her hair is blonde and pulled back, exposing her unpierced ears. I look at her face long and hard. She’s pretty and I can imagine that when she was younger she was very attractive. As is often the case, I continue to stare. My eyes move down her body.
She is thinner than most of the women I am attracted to – with small breasts. Her hands are in her lap. Her fingers are long and her nails have no polish. All-in-all, there is nothing remarkable about this woman, but I find her curious and attractive in a strange way.
Done considering my seat mate, I put my head back, close my eyes and drop off to sleep.
Soon, she stirs beside me and I gradually wake up. I open my eyes a slit. Her head is to one side, resting against the window. Her mouth is open and her eyes are closed. One hand is clutching her jacket to her lap. Her other hand is beneath her jacket.
Her sleeves are pushed up her forearms and I can see by the movement of her muscles that she is moving her fingers in her lap. I see her smile faintly and hear her quietly sigh. I watch her and my dick gets hard. “Do you like what you’re seeing?,” she asks me.
My eyes snap open. “Of course I do,” I say, a little surprised. “I didn’t realize you knew I was watching.” “I’ve been looking at your reflection in the window,” she says, “I’ve been imagining what it would be like to be with you while I watched you sleep.”
“Yeah?,” I ask, sitting up. “Yeah,” she continues, leaning over toward me and putting her head on my arm. “Do you want to taste my pussy?” I say yes and she slides her wet fingers from under her jacket and brings them to my face. I kiss them and lick the wet off them.
She slides her hand back under the jacket and continues to masturbate. “Let me finish myself then I’ll take care of you,” she says and asks me to put my arm around her. I do and she snuggles close. I can feel her body trembling and tightening as she gets closer to her orgasm. She breathes faster, gasping. Her body goes rigid and then relaxes, goes rigid again and she stops breathing.
She cums and melts against me. I kiss her hair. Her body tightens a few more times and I can see her smile in the window of the train. We stay like that for a few minutes. Then she slides her hand out again and offers it to me. I lick them clean. She puts both hands under the jacket and zips and snaps her pants.
She spreads the jacket across both of our laps like a blanket and leans against me again. She slides both hands under the jacket now and struggles with my belt and buttons. Eventually she undoes everything and pulls me out. I am hard. She holds the base of my dick in her left hand and pulls her right hand out. She drools into it and puts it back.
Her saliva is warm on my skin. It feels good. She tugs and twists her hand on my dick – rubbing around my head. She asks me if I like it. I tell her I do. My right arm is still draped over her shoulders. I slide it down her back and stroke her ass. The conductor walks by. He doesn’t see of say anything.
She jerks me off for a few minutes until I can’t stand it any more. I whisper to her that I am going to cum. She rubs faster. As I begin to cum, she cups her hand over the tip, caressing me and catching it in her hand. I shudder a bit when it happens. She pulls her hand out from under the jacket and brings it up to her mouth.
I can see her in the window lapping my cum out of her hand. “It’s really warm,” she tells me. She pastes her tongue flat against her palm and licks it all up, swallowing. “You came a lot,” she says. I tell her she got me really excited. She sits up again and reclines her seat. I reach under the jacket and put myself away.
At the next stop, she collects her things and gets off the train.
Pretty Dirty 