On the Train – HER
Something had changed, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. In the same way that you can deconstruct someone’s face by staring at it for long enough, their relationship had shifted. They had been colleagues for years, good friends too, but only ever colleagues. She’d met his wife many times, and he’d met her boyfriend. Although now she thought about it, they’d never cemented a foursome friendship – they’d always kept their own relationship, such as it was, slightly apart from their lives at home.
Maybe things had always been heading to this point. Maybe she was overthinking it? But here she was, sitting on the train beside him, becoming increasingly distracted by the way the fabric of his jeans stretched over his thighs. The way his hand, draped across his lap, was close to the curve of his cock and the thought of what it would look like if her hand was wrapped around it.
She shifted in her seat as her pussy hummed with the thoughts that she was having, caught his eye and smiled. Subconsciously, or maybe consciously, she wasn’t sure, she gently licked her lips and glanced at his mouth. His beautiful stubbled mouth. He said something as he turned to look at the phone that he’d retrieved from his pocket. She kept on looking at him; the way his top lip rested against his teeth, the way his lips curved when he laughed and the way his tongue, just visible, moved inside his mouth. Her pussy reacted once again as she pictured his tongue flicking against the edge of her clit. She took a sharp breath and opened her legs to accommodate the surge of feelings she was having. Was she getting wet? Her knee pushed against his and she realised that he kept it there. Had he pressed against it? He slowly turned his head back to her.
Everything inside her was panting, moaning even for any touch from him, could he see that? He looked at her, right into her, and heat rushed through her body and into her face. He smiled again. But this time he didn’t look away.
He put his phone into his pocket, all the while keeping eye contact until he moved his gaze to her black skirt and with his hand ran his finger along the side of her leg gently ruffling the skirt a few inches higher until he could see her stocking tops. Immediately she felt a short squirt between her legs and she lifted her pelvis with a little moan. His eyes darkened and his lips parted as his chemistry aligned.
He rested back against his seat and glanced around the carriage. Two people sat at the far end, chatting and a girl sat in the seat in front them dozing against the window with the tinny sound of music from her earphones. He looked back at her and with no words, no permission needed, he moved his hand to her chest, brushing his thumb across her nipple, now hard beneath her blouse, tightening against the lace of her bra.
They still hadn’t spoken, but they didn’t need to. She leant forward, reached behind herself and unclipped her bra. He raised his eyebrows and smiled. She slipped the straps off her shoulders and wriggled out of them, surreptitiously slipping it into the bag at her feet. Now exposed, her breasts and nipples screamed for his touch. She wanted to grab his hand, she wanted to unzip his jeans, straddle his lap and pull his cock inside her wet pussy. But instead she let her own fingers do the talking. His skin flushed with excitement as he watched her hands caress her own breasts pinching her nipples between her finger and thumb. She pushed back against the seat and moaned, widening her legs once again.
He reached to the floor where his coat was folded under his chair and pulled it to his lap. Draping it across himself he shifted as he unbuttoned his jeans, lifting the edge of the coat so that she could see his cock as it sprung into his hand. She watched as he held it, running his thumb across the head where his pre-cum lingered with anticipation of what was to come.
She gasped and they both glanced round, lost in the moment they checked the train for observers before locking eyes, both hungry with desire and knowing that they had reached a place of no return. His hand pulled against his cock, his wet foreskin exposing the deep purple of his excitement. He looked to her skirt and urged her to do the same. Again she checked the carriage, before slipping her hand under the pleats of her skirt, to find her pussy, damp with pleasure, soaking through the lace underwear. Pushing the wet crotch to one side she found her clit, hot and slippery – ready for her touch. His hand moved faster on his own cock as he watched her, his face impassive for the onlooker, but burning with the fires of lust beneath his skin.
She rocked her pelvis to the rhythm of her own touch, sliding her finger from her clit and inside herself. Eyes shut she focussed on the sound of his rapid breathing beside her, the gentle smell of sex that had filled the air between them. He continued to wank, watching her as she hurried ever closer to climax. Timing his strokes he leant nearer to her, whispering into her ear: “I want to hear you squirt, I want to watch you cum and then I’m going to cum too.”
Her eyes opened, filled with desire, her cheeks reddened and her lips darkened as her finger moved back to her clit. Flicking over it faster and faster she locked eyes with his. His words hanging between them like the strike of a match: “I’m going to cum”, she said, her voice hoarse with lust. He moaned, and gripped his cock harder as she arched her back, reddening in the face as she came, holding her breath, almost silently but with her legs opened wide, abandoned to the moment. He, leant forward as he hardened, swelled, slowed his strokes and cupping the end of his cock, released with a deep moan. Cum splashed out of his hand, forced from him to the floor. He closed his eyes, still, a few short sharp breaths as he came back down to earth.