One day, I was at Tunbridge station and due to very thickfog, all the trains were running really late and way off schedule and so my connecting train to Canterbury West was running at least an hour or so late, and as it was a real pea-souper (like in the old black and white films) I made my way into an already packed out canteen.
In those days, one could smoke inside the station canteens and the cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air and all I wanted was a good old cup of tea and a British Rail (as it was then) sandwich.
As I was standing in the queue a tall and very well-endowed lady approached me and asked if I could get her a tea and some cake, if she gave the money for it.
I said , “N o problem - hang on a sec and I'll bring it over to your table with pleasure.”
“I haven't got a table.” she said. “They're all taken.”
“No problem, I said...we'll soon get a table, if we wait a bit - look there's one over there just freeing-up...go over there and I'll bring our stuff over, as soon as I get served.”
“Thanks,” she said.”It's not often one meets a real gentleman these days,” and with that off she went and took the table.
All this time, I was thinking of nothing else but on getting home and into a nice hot bath...but...God works in mysterious ways, I guess - as I carried the tray over to the table...I noticed that she looked a bit stressed.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Yeah...just a bit stressed and pissed off at the moment, I've just walked out on my partner and I need to get to Margate to stay with some friends, but I'm not sure that I've enough money for the fare - so I've been fare-dodging, so far, all the way down from London.”
“Oh,” I said, “Listen...don't worry...we'll get on the train and sort it out from there and if the inspector comes along...??? I'll sort it out for you...it looks as if you need a break and I'm in the mood for doing a good deed - as I've had a good day today. But I get off at Canterbury West, OK.”
“Wow,” she said, “You're a really nice guy and already you've cheered me up and put my faith back in the human race. Do you like a "smoke? “I mean a smoke of some good weed.”
“I understand,” I said...”And yes - I'd welcome a good smoke...but, maybe outside on the platform - after we've finished here...?”
“Of course,” she said.” “It wouldn't really do to smoke a good joint in here, would it now?”
And so we vanished, into the swirling fog, up to the far end of the platform and she took out a ready-made Bob Marley-sized joint out of her hand bag and stood there just deeply inhaling and slowly exhaling on the joint that chatting in general and getting to know each other and we were already laughing and smiling at and with each other.
I was, to say the least, somewhat surprised at seeing this bumper-sized joint in what appeared to be quite a well-heeled lady's hand bag - for she spoke with a very "clipped" posh accent and in very articulate English.
This woman was, I had decided, was a very well educated lady and obviously came from quite a respectable family background. And I told her of my opinion of her and she said that I was very perceptive and with that she leaned forward and put a hand around the back of my head - pulling it towards her face and I could feel her hot breath on my cheeks and lips and she then put her lips to mine and blew the smoke from the joint slowly into my mouth - from her mouth and lungs.
Her lips were soft, full and sensuous and the hand on the back of my head - tender and warm and soothing and I started to feel as if all the problems in the world were slowly disappearing into a haze of warm comfort and wanting. Then her other hand made its way slowly down to my crotch and the inside of my legs.
“Mmmmm,” she said. “Not bad...is it as big as I think it could be? You know...I can be such a slut, at times,” she said.
In those days, one could smoke inside the station canteens and the cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air and all I wanted was a good old cup of tea and a British Rail (as it was then) sandwich.
As I was standing in the queue a tall and very well-endowed lady approached me and asked if I could get her a tea and some cake, if she gave the money for it.
I said , “N o problem - hang on a sec and I'll bring it over to your table with pleasure.”
“I haven't got a table.” she said. “They're all taken.”
“No problem, I said...we'll soon get a table, if we wait a bit - look there's one over there just freeing-up...go over there and I'll bring our stuff over, as soon as I get served.”
“Thanks,” she said.”It's not often one meets a real gentleman these days,” and with that off she went and took the table.
All this time, I was thinking of nothing else but on getting home and into a nice hot bath...but...God works in mysterious ways, I guess - as I carried the tray over to the table...I noticed that she looked a bit stressed.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Yeah...just a bit stressed and pissed off at the moment, I've just walked out on my partner and I need to get to Margate to stay with some friends, but I'm not sure that I've enough money for the fare - so I've been fare-dodging, so far, all the way down from London.”
“Oh,” I said, “Listen...don't worry...we'll get on the train and sort it out from there and if the inspector comes along...??? I'll sort it out for you...it looks as if you need a break and I'm in the mood for doing a good deed - as I've had a good day today. But I get off at Canterbury West, OK.”
“Wow,” she said, “You're a really nice guy and already you've cheered me up and put my faith back in the human race. Do you like a "smoke? “I mean a smoke of some good weed.”
“I understand,” I said...”And yes - I'd welcome a good smoke...but, maybe outside on the platform - after we've finished here...?”
“Of course,” she said.” “It wouldn't really do to smoke a good joint in here, would it now?”
And so we vanished, into the swirling fog, up to the far end of the platform and she took out a ready-made Bob Marley-sized joint out of her hand bag and stood there just deeply inhaling and slowly exhaling on the joint that chatting in general and getting to know each other and we were already laughing and smiling at and with each other.
I was, to say the least, somewhat surprised at seeing this bumper-sized joint in what appeared to be quite a well-heeled lady's hand bag - for she spoke with a very "clipped" posh accent and in very articulate English.
This woman was, I had decided, was a very well educated lady and obviously came from quite a respectable family background. And I told her of my opinion of her and she said that I was very perceptive and with that she leaned forward and put a hand around the back of my head - pulling it towards her face and I could feel her hot breath on my cheeks and lips and she then put her lips to mine and blew the smoke from the joint slowly into my mouth - from her mouth and lungs.
Her lips were soft, full and sensuous and the hand on the back of my head - tender and warm and soothing and I started to feel as if all the problems in the world were slowly disappearing into a haze of warm comfort and wanting. Then her other hand made its way slowly down to my crotch and the inside of my legs.
“Mmmmm,” she said. “Not bad...is it as big as I think it could be? You know...I can be such a slut, at times,” she said.
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“Actually, I'm always real fucking bitch on heat after a good toke. “
At this point, I suddenly started to feel all modest and my cheeks flushed red...which is highly unusual for me...but, I guess it was the fact of her really posh accent, which threw me completely?
“Aw,” she said in a husky voice, “You're all embarrassed,” as she breathed deeply down the side of my neck and nibbling my ear lobe. “How sweet.” “Now how can I make it up to you, I wonder?”
The train eventually arrived and it was one of the old slam-door types and we got in and sat next to each other, with a compartment full of commuters - newspapers stuck in front of faces and she immediately put her hand unzipped my trousers and slid her hand inside...saying that she wanted to give people a little entertainment and began massaging my member up and down - in full view of everyone...while at the same time French kissing me...hard and fast...and she guided one of my hands onto her swollen tits - pushing it inside her top.
“Fuck these boring old cunts,” she said...and started sucking on my cock right in front of a packed compartment of commuters.
“I want you to fuck me right now - in the toilet,” she said. “Let's go.”
While we waited for the loo to free-up, we stood French kissing in the corridor and then she got down on her knees and started sucking me off.
“I want it nice n' hard and ready to go,” she said; as people wandered up and down - right past us.
We went into the loo, as soon as it became free, and she bent over the wash basin - parting her legs...
“STICK ME WITH IT!!!” She shouted...”NOW!!!” “C’mon you mother fucker...pretend I'm ya mother...that's what I want!!!”
“You fucking kinky bitch,” I said. ”You deserve a good fuck up the arse for that comment.”
“In my cunt first...it's wet and tingling...In my cunt...now!!!” “You cunt and fucking slut of a man...DO IT!!!”
So I did...and then she spun around and said that she loved to lick her own juices and cum off men's cocks...
She bent over the wash basin again and I pushed it deep inside her tight arse hole...while fingering her wet clit with my right hand...her arse hole started to loosen up and she moaned like a stuck monster.
“Harder fuck you...!!! “ “Fuck me you mother's whore!!!” “Fuck me!!!”
I fucked her in rhythm to the swaying movement of the train...and then the driver suddenly braked for some reason and I rammed it (out of control) right into her...and she literally squirted cum all over the deck...it sprayed everywhere.
“Oooohhhh...” she squealed....”That was the best fucking orgasm I've literally had in fucking ages.” Aand with that...she turned around and squatted over the loo and commanded me to fist-fuck her, while she was pissing.
I have large hands and I slowly inserted my fist up and in there and she started to piss...
“Drink it!” She commanded. “Drink my fucking piss...” And so I did...and it was simply…Mmmmm
We fucked in the toilet almost all the way to Canterbury. “II gotta get out here,” I said...”The train's pulling into Canterbury West.”
“What's yer name?” She finally asked. “Victor,” I answered. “And yours?” “Gail,” she said.
“What do you do in Canterbury?” She asked.
“I work as a night cabbie, for Lynx Taxis, and I live here,” I said.
“I'll be seeing you again then,” she said...”I'll remember the name of that company.”
“OK,” I said...thinking nothing of it. “I gotta go.” I openedthe loo's door and jumped out off the train...all wet between the legs and everywhere else...as I crab-walked up the platform and up to the station's exit.
However, she was right, about seeing me again...and far much quicker than I thought or could even imagine - never mind the circumstances in which I was to meet her...the very next day.
Part 2 continues shortly
At this point, I suddenly started to feel all modest and my cheeks flushed red...which is highly unusual for me...but, I guess it was the fact of her really posh accent, which threw me completely?
“Aw,” she said in a husky voice, “You're all embarrassed,” as she breathed deeply down the side of my neck and nibbling my ear lobe. “How sweet.” “Now how can I make it up to you, I wonder?”
The train eventually arrived and it was one of the old slam-door types and we got in and sat next to each other, with a compartment full of commuters - newspapers stuck in front of faces and she immediately put her hand unzipped my trousers and slid her hand inside...saying that she wanted to give people a little entertainment and began massaging my member up and down - in full view of everyone...while at the same time French kissing me...hard and fast...and she guided one of my hands onto her swollen tits - pushing it inside her top.
“Fuck these boring old cunts,” she said...and started sucking on my cock right in front of a packed compartment of commuters.
“I want you to fuck me right now - in the toilet,” she said. “Let's go.”
While we waited for the loo to free-up, we stood French kissing in the corridor and then she got down on her knees and started sucking me off.
“I want it nice n' hard and ready to go,” she said; as people wandered up and down - right past us.
We went into the loo, as soon as it became free, and she bent over the wash basin - parting her legs...
“STICK ME WITH IT!!!” She shouted...”NOW!!!” “C’mon you mother fucker...pretend I'm ya mother...that's what I want!!!”
“You fucking kinky bitch,” I said. ”You deserve a good fuck up the arse for that comment.”
“In my cunt first...it's wet and tingling...In my cunt...now!!!” “You cunt and fucking slut of a man...DO IT!!!”
So I did...and then she spun around and said that she loved to lick her own juices and cum off men's cocks...
She bent over the wash basin again and I pushed it deep inside her tight arse hole...while fingering her wet clit with my right hand...her arse hole started to loosen up and she moaned like a stuck monster.
“Harder fuck you...!!! “ “Fuck me you mother's whore!!!” “Fuck me!!!”
I fucked her in rhythm to the swaying movement of the train...and then the driver suddenly braked for some reason and I rammed it (out of control) right into her...and she literally squirted cum all over the deck...it sprayed everywhere.
“Oooohhhh...” she squealed....”That was the best fucking orgasm I've literally had in fucking ages.” Aand with that...she turned around and squatted over the loo and commanded me to fist-fuck her, while she was pissing.
I have large hands and I slowly inserted my fist up and in there and she started to piss...
“Drink it!” She commanded. “Drink my fucking piss...” And so I did...and it was simply…Mmmmm
We fucked in the toilet almost all the way to Canterbury. “II gotta get out here,” I said...”The train's pulling into Canterbury West.”
“What's yer name?” She finally asked. “Victor,” I answered. “And yours?” “Gail,” she said.
“What do you do in Canterbury?” She asked.
“I work as a night cabbie, for Lynx Taxis, and I live here,” I said.
“I'll be seeing you again then,” she said...”I'll remember the name of that company.”
“OK,” I said...thinking nothing of it. “I gotta go.” I openedthe loo's door and jumped out off the train...all wet between the legs and everywhere else...as I crab-walked up the platform and up to the station's exit.
However, she was right, about seeing me again...and far much quicker than I thought or could even imagine - never mind the circumstances in which I was to meet her...the very next day.
Part 2 continues shortly
