At 6:10 in the morning, I stand on the platform in St Albans waiting for the same train, waiting to sit in the same seat with the same tired, grey faces. Monday through Friday, every day the same. The seats are a weird green-bluish colour darkened by grease and grime.
God, I hate commuting.
One morning, huddled inside my overcoat as the train approaches, a blonde woman runs up and stands near me, waiting for the train to stop. People squint as a cold drizzle blows across the tracks into our faces and she is no exception. She’s probably in her late 30s or early 40s and she’s wearing an office outfit: skirt, jacket, white blouse. She is pretty — very pretty, in fact — with friendly, intelligent eyes. I let her board the train before me, planning to sit near enough to surreptitiously watch her.
Her calves flex as she steps onto the train, her toned thighs and peach-shaped arse also tense admirably beneath her tight skirt. Her stomach seems flat and her breasts firm, and everything is complimented by her blonde hair worn in a bob.
I know women question if men really notice all that in a glance. The answer is, ‘Absolutely, yes.’ We see every curve, every nuance, every glance. Men make instant judgements about fucking or not fucking a woman with pretty much every one we see. We constantly evaluate who looks fuckable and who doesn’t as we walk down a street, stand in line, or get a glimpse through a car window. That's not to say we would actually fuck that lady, even if the opportunity arose (let's be honest, it hardly ever does) but we know, on the face of it, that we’d take a chance.
She sits two rows in front of me on the other side of the carriage. We’re facing the direction of travel and she is soon rummaging around in her handbag. Out comes a cosmetics bag and compact travel mirror. I see the reflection of her pretty blue eyes as she applies mascara. I stare. I know I shouldn’t, but I can't help it: her eyes are beautiful pools of blue and laughter lines only add to their allure. I lose myself in them, briefly forgetting where I am.
This happens for the next week or so. She trots up as the train arrives, I let her get on in front of me, a courteous gesture, and we sit in familiar seats. I watch her apply her day face and imagine who she might be, where she lives, and with whom. I invent scenarios where we meet, become friendly, and eventually fuck.
I sit there every morning, my imagination a fevered mess and a partial erection concealed beneath my folded overcoat. I imagine the first time we talk, our first kiss and touch. Each day, I conjure up a different theme but it always has the same result — I doze to the train’s rhythm thinking about fucking her, hard and deep.
One Friday, I'm particularly tired and hungover after a client dinner the previous night. Bleary eyed, I peer at the reflection of her sparkling, clear eyes. I’m lost in the beautiful blueness — but I suddenly twitch, alert in a second. She’s staring back at me, not applying her makeup. It's not a look that invites a smile or nod; it’s a challenging, ‘What the fuck are you staring at, you ignorant twat.’
I grimace and close my eyes; pretend to doze. It just isn't the done thing to catch someone's gaze on a train or tube. There is an unwritten rule: never make eye contact. Heaven forbid you should ever talk to anyone.
Now, not only had she caught me staring, I’d wimped out when her look dared me to respond. Pathetic and feeling sorry for myself, I actually dozed off and didn’t wake until I felt a nudge. I slowly opened my eyes. She’d woken me before getting off! Maybe all was not lost. I wanted to catch up with her but she’d disappeared into the adjoining tube station by the time I got myself together and off the train.
As I say, that was Friday. All too soon the weekend passes and I’m back on the platform, waiting for the 6:10 train. No blonde as yet. I wonder if she’s decided to change carriages to avoid me. I wouldn't be surprised. I scan the familiar waiting commuters but don't see her. The train arrives and I slump into my usual seat. There’s no blonde so I figure I might as well get some sleep. I close my eyes.
Someone is trying to squeeze past to sit in the window seat next to me. Irritated, I move my legs a little bit and open my eyes, ready to glare at them for having the temerity to sit next to me when other seats are easier to access. It's the blonde.
She’d obviously run for the train as she was breathing heavily and looked hot in her overcoat. She caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back and dodged an elbow as she shrugged off her coat. Sitting, she started to rummage for her cosmetics. She looks lovely and smells good. Suddenly, she turns in her seat and this time catches me looking at her tits, pressed tightly between her arms.
“Did you manage to get off in time on Friday?”
“Yes. Thanks for waking me… and, by the way, sorry for staring at you.”
She laughs. Softly. My heart thumps.
We make small talk about commuting, which banks we work at, blah blah, blah. She’s called Claire and said she knew I’d watched her applying makeup all these mornings past. So, could I make myself useful and hold her coat while she applied it now… please?
I told her it was fascinating to watch her change from clean and uncluttered to a polished professional with just a few licks of lippy and blusher. She carried on but constantly caught my eye in the mirror, flashing small but knowing smiles. We chatted more and it turned out that she and her husband were parting and she wasn’t in a good place emotionally. I was married and had never cheated — but something about her was getting me very excited,
I didn’t expect anything to happen: she was way out of my league and obviously pre-occupied with her life and troubles. All my imaginings were just that, scenes played out in my head that would never actually happen. When I handed her coat back, she appeared close to crying. I apologised for asking so many questions and I lightly touched the back of her hand. It was then that something occurred that had never happened before.
A jolt of electricity shot up my arm and, apparently, up hers, too because she gazed at me muttering, “Oh my god, what the hell was that?”
I made a quip about sparks flying but she looked deep into my eyes, blue on blue, and nodded. She didn't move her hand and I realised I was holding it and gave a gentle squeeze. She squeezed back, breathed heavily and stared, her eyes boring into mine. I could almost see cogs turning: she was thinking, deciding, wondering what ifs. I’d been doing that for weeks and my eyes said, “Yes, I want you.”
Off the train, we cross the footbridge to change for the tube. We use every opportunity to touch each other’s arm or brush hands, all the while chatting and smiling, every look loaded with animal lust.
The tube station is old and I steer Claire into a dark corner under the footbridge and pull her to me. We kiss, tentatively at first, breathing heavily as our lips brush together. We kiss again, more confidently and urgently. I could hardly believe it was happening — let alone almost in full public view.
My cock was straining within my suit trousers and she ground into me as our kisses became increasingly passionate. Our lips parted and tongues danced a sensual, erotic salsa. I cupped her arse and pulled her tight to me, kissing her deeply. I moved a hand inside her jacket and fondled a breast while she moaned and kissed me hard. Her nipple hardened and I rubbed it through the silky cup, driving both of us crazy with desire.
I cupped her pussy over her skirt, causing another moan and a sighed declaration that she needed us to be naked that night… straight after work. She gripped my twitching bulge. Pre-cum had seeped through the thin wool and, rubbing the head, she huskily whispered that she couldn’t wait to taste me and feel my hardness sinking deep into her swollen pussy.
What a way to start a day!
I don’t remember much about what happened at work, I was too busy counting off the hours till I’d meet Claire at the station for the ride home. Every time I thought of her touch and kiss and the incredible electricity between us, I got hard. It got so uncomfortable that I went to the toilet for a relieving wank.
There, I imagined her stroking my cock, licking the pre-cum from the tip, then sliding her mouth over the head and taking my length down into her throat while fondling my balls. I came a couple of times in those toilets that day. I’m not proud of it but, hey, I wasn’t the first and won’t be the last. Boys will be boys after all!
~~~~
We met on the platform at the rear of the all-stations train. It’s quieter at the back and most commuters wait for the fast train. We wanted to be as slow as possible.
Sitting, we touched hands under the coat spread over our laps. Again the electric current shot through our bodies. All our senses and nerve endings were heightened and every touch of finger, hand or leg was sensational.
Delayed gratification is all very well, but I wanted to touch Claire intimately and needed her to feel me.
She stood briefly, hitched up her skirt, and I put my hand under her arse so I could teasingly finger her pussy through her panties. She eased my zip down and stroked my hard, hot cock through my boxers. I felt her shaved pussy getting wetter as she pressed her pelvis against my fingers. Her tights were damp and I sensed she wanted me to penetrate further. But that wasn’t possible, so she continued writhing as surreptitiously as she could.
I couldn’t reach her clit — much as I tried — and I wanted to bury my fingers deep into her. But I also had to wait. She eased her fingers into my boxers and I held my breath as she rubbed and circled around the throbbing head of my cock. She spread my copious pre-cum around the tip and onto the shaft. Desperate for her to tighten her grip and stroke up and down my length, I encouraged her to be bold. Claire smiled. “If I have to wait, so do you.”
After what seemed like the best and also the longest train ride of my life, we eventually reached our station. As I hastily zipped up, Claire sucked her fingers and told me how good I tasted and that she was desperate to suck my cock.
We walked through the dark car park to her vehicle and slid into the front seats. It was still drizzling and we were away from street lights, superbly private. As soon as we sat, I leaned over and kissed her hard. Our tongues intertwined and I wrapped my hands in her hair, tugging her toward me. She gasped at the sudden pain but kissed me harder, almost desperately.
Quickly, she unbuckled my belt while I unbuttoned her blouse. I slid a hand over her silky bra, feeling her body heat. I squeezed her soft, sensuous tits and lightly pinched the hard nipples. Removing her bra, I took a moment to look at her breasts. There was enough light for me see their beauty: a slightly upturned curve topped with dark nipples. I put my lips over one and sucked, filling my mouth with nipple and succulent flesh. I sucked and licked, teasing her nipple with lips, tongue and teeth. I varied from soft and sensuous to harder and more fervent.
Claire stroked my cock harder and bent to lap up the pre-cum. She licked it clean then buried her tongue back into my mouth. I gently sucked it in and out, still pulling her hair with one hand while undoing her skirt with the other. She pulled her tights and panties off one leg… then froze.
A guy walked past the car but he didn’t notice us through the fogged up windows. I assumed he was intent only on getting home and out of the rain.
I eased Claire’s legs apart and inhaled her hot sweet scent. I eased my fingers between her labia, so wet and hot and twitching. I circled her hard nub and slowly switched between clit and pussy, slipping one then two fingers into her. She stopped me and bent over to my cock again, saying she didn’t want to cum — yet.
She was right on the edge, her voice breathless, and she grasped my balls as she twisted her mouth around and down my shaft. I tried distracting myself with one of her hard nipples. I felt the weight of her breast in my hand and tweaked the nipple each time she slid down my cock. One second she teased the tip with her tongue, the next she slid her mouth over the head and plunged down. I couldn’t last much longer and I bucked my hips, forcing my cock into her throat. I gripped her hair again and twisted hard. A muffled yelp — but she didn’t stop bobbing up and down.
“I’m cuming,” I gasped and pushed her head as far down my cock as it would go.
Claire gagged, tried to pull back, but I held her tight, impaled on my cock and I pumped into her throat. When the spasms slowed, I released my grip and she slowly resumed bobbing up and down, making sure she’d sucked every drop out of me. She smiled a sticky smile. Her mascara had run but she looked deliciously satisfied with herself. I pulled her to me and kissed her, exploring her mouth with my tongue and tasting my cum.
We dressed and she started the car. We agreed that we’d only just started and had unfinished business which would involve completely undressing, a big bed, and maybe some toys.
In a short time, we arrived at her house. Her boys were out and hubby gone for good. Claire slammed the door shut and immediately embraced me, hugging me to her body while kissing me firmly. We needed each other: needed to feel each other’s naked body, to kiss and play and, above all, we needed to fuck.
As Claire led me upstairs to her bedroom, I cupped her buttocks, feeling them tensing and relaxing under my grip. Door closed, she stood in front of me and I told her not to move for a second. I leaned in and kissed her, stroking her hair and the back of her neck. Slowly, I undid her blouse, slid it off her shoulders and a light groan escaped her lips. Skirt next, it pooled on the floor, followed by tights.
I allowed myself only the lightest of touches on her skin and she shivered in anticipation. Bra undone, it fell to the floor, followed by her panties, and now I had a proper view of her sensuous, nude body. Full breasts with pert nipples, toned legs toned, and pussy shaved. Magnificent!
Claire removed my shirt, trousers, and boxers, and we stood naked in front of each other. Kissing and nuzzling, we still held back, building the tension. My erection weeped more pre-cum and she gently wiped the tip, offering me her finger which I sucked deep into my mouth.
I grazed her nipples with my fingers and raked down her body to her pussy. I grasped her arse and our bodies squashed together as we kissed, groaning with lust. The kissing became harder and wilder, our bodies gyrated against each other, hands running over tits, arses, cock and pussy, frantically touching and feeling the hot yearning flesh.
I fell back onto the bed and manoeuvred Claire’s quivering pussy over my mouth. Bending, she licked my cock and I slipped my tongue between her lips to find her clit, hard and bursting out of its clamshell. Teasing it, licking around it, sucking it into my mouth, I had Claire writhing and grinding into my face. I flicked my tongue up to her arse and she pivoted, providing easier access. I licked around her hole, lightly probing, before moving back to her pussy.
I sucked her lips and poked my tongue as deep into her as I could manage while gently pushing a finger into her arse. She rocked back and forth, taking as much finger and tongue with each thrust as I could give her. At the same time, she kissed up and down my shaft, nibbling and sucking along the way.
She increased her grip and my cock tingled when her nails lightly scratched the skin. She took one ball into her mouth and sucked while stroking my shaft. Fingers teased my arse and I felt two pushing into me. I grimaced at the sudden pain and tried to relax so that I could enjoy being filled by her. My cock reacted, getting even firmer, and she took it deep into her throat.
She thrust her fingers into my ass and alternated with my cock thrusts into her mouth. I was in heaven, and my only concern was carnal pleasure. Sex and sensuality was the only thing that was real right then: I never wanted it to stop.
We flipped over and I looked down into Claire’s blue eyes. I leaned to kiss and nuzzle her neck and breastbone. I licked her erect nipples and, with my cock just touching her pussy, I felt her heat and wetness. Slowly, I eased my cock into her, feeling the head sliding into her silky sheath. I withdrew and rubbed the head over her clit, staying still for a moment while maintaining pressure on it. She raised her pelvis, pushing against me, and I was ready to fuck her hard. I needed to do it because we’d been building up to this moment all day. We both needed release.
Lifting her legs, I rested her calves on my shoulders and swiftly penetrated deep inside her. I felt her pussy contract and expand as I rocked up and down, continually massaging her g-spot. That sent Claire wild and she dropped her legs, wrapped them around my hips, pulling me deeper into her. Her moans become urgent cries as I pounded her swollen, wet pussy, and my cock pulsated, rapidly approaching release.
Locked together, deep and desperate, we clung on, all hard and sweaty. It was testosterone-fuelled fucking, so intense, like nothing I'd ever felt before. My breathing was ragged, my heart raced, and my cock pumped stream after stream of spunk while Claire cried out in the midst of her own multiple orgasm. Her pussy contracted fiercely and her desperate cries turned into urgent screams, begging me to keep going, not to stop, to never let the waves end. Eventually, though, all good things come to a conclusion and I collapsed, exhausted and drained, next to her.
With gentle kisses, we cuddled and lightly stroked each other’s flesh, raising goose bumps. We knew something monumental had happened and it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be a one-off.
It had been raw, sensual, animalistic fucking — and we both knew it could only get better.
Thanks Curvy and Alan for editing help x
