untrained and untamed (part 2)

(continued from “untrained and untamed (part 1)”…………………
“He leaned in and stole a kiss without warning or asking. I was surprised but not panicked and found myself sort of kissing him back. He did it again his lips encouraging mine to open and they did without objection, slightly but enough to invite him further…..” )

The world outside became more than a blur as the train moved almost silently through the landscape.

I felt its vibration beneath and through the whole carriage, resonating though the seats.  It was teasing, testing my resilience, my will.   We kissed and his hand pulled up my dress just enough to expose the black-tights covering my thighs.  He took the book away and edged closer kissing softly and not frenzied. I wondered if the trains had cameras that the guard or driver use to keep an eye on what’s going on in the train.  I peered down from the kiss and saw my hem raised and his hand snaking its way under, squeezing, massaging, enjoying my nyloned legs.

His fingers slipped between my thighs at which I felt him stretch his fingers which served to part my leg allowing greater freedom and less resistance for his hand as it travelled up my tights.  I laid my hand on his hand with a pathetic attempt to halt his advance, but to be honest it wasn’t a very effective defence.

My hand fell away.

I opened my lips receiving his kiss further while his hand caressed gently its way between my legs growing more insistent in its progress. It seemed to me I was surrendering to what I wasn’t sure.   by now his hand left my legs briefly to stroke the side of my left breast.  After a merely seconds wrapped it was fondling me fully.  His touch felt astute, well-versed, as I felt my nipple hardening inside my bra.

I tried to control my breath, forcing it in then out of my lungs as I seemed to require so much more oxygen than normal.   After enticing my nipple to erect, though he couldn’t see this I’m sure he knew, he returned his attentions to my legs and thighs spreading me again without hesitation.  I submitted feeling again my resolve being put to the test and he found his way right up to touch my underwear, my knickers which were feeling increasingly warm and moistened by our quiet explorations. Already on the edge my breathing tipped over that edge but I managed to not make a sound so as to alert anyone else in the carriage as to what we were doing.   The side of his hand now rubbing, legs opening wide enough for his unrelenting touches.

I felt heat, my exhilarated temperature feeding my metaphorical internal flame.

I shuddered and his hand pushed more forcibly against my underwear clearly now craving more, his  greedy fingers under my dress partly hitched baring my thighs.   I moved my hips forward without thinking, a reflex probably, I don’t know what I was doing but I did it.  We sat awkwardly half-turned facing each other, that whole side both our bodies touching as he worked his fingers into my inner thighs, my more secret places.   He urged pushing my black tights against my knickers trying to push them both into me, between my labia, my folds as though making up for being unable to undress me, which I was guessing he was imagining and maybe hoping for. But we were on a train and it would’ve been a step too far I’m sure.

My hips were responded as though they’d locked into automatic, into horny, encouraging my whole body to move with his touch finding a certain rhythm.

Up until now I’d completely ignored his other hand but then I noticed it boldly unbuttoning the front of my dress, the top one first then the second then the next until five of them were undone whereby he moved his hand inside and over my cleavage and beneath the white vest top I wore. Why was I allowing this, I had no clue.  Despite the clumsy angle he felt my small breasts over my bra as best he could considering the circumstances but nevertheless heightened my excitement even more.

Again I took a breath, again and again, still feeling a degree of breathlessness.

This was more than a train ride, it was turning into a thrill ride and I was aroused, and terrified too at being caught. This was clearly not the journey I imagined I’d be having when I boarded.

He began masturbating me faster between my thighs as I closed them around his hand shaking while “oh f**k, oh f**k” tumbled through my mind but luckily didn’t escape my mouth.

I was becoming disoriented, dishevelled when he quietly asked me to remove my tights. To my surprise I nodded yes but said I’d have to go to the toilet to do it. I refastened most of the button of my dress and stood while he stayed seated leaving me to squeeze past him again as I felt his breath on the backs of my thighs and his hand brushing my bottom.

In the toilet I first checked the mirror.  I was incredibly flushed, but grinning. What was I doing? I took breaths and composed my thoughts but my body refused to relax and just stayed in its already state of arousal, like there was no going back once the switch had been flicked.

I took off my tights rolling them down my legs from under my dress and bundled them into my fist so no one would see them where back at the seat I’d slip them into my bag. Before I did though, and now I didn’t know what I was thinking, I took off my vest top, slipped my arms back into my dress. Now all I had on was my dress and underwear, no tights and no tee-shirt. I adjusted myself, re-buttoned my dress, checked the mirror and went back to the seats, and to him.   I was apprehensive, excited, scared, aroused, confused, what kind of witchcraft or warlock-craft had he used on me? My body seemed to enjoy giving me mixed signals and the train felt like it was in some twilight zone..

I once more squeezed past him and as I did his hands, smoothed their way across on my bottom with one hand slipping under my dress and grabbing my bottom through my knickers.  I froze for a second, or longer, time does strange things at times like this, while he kneaded my buttock.   I knew I had to sit down but for a moment I was transfixed by the moment as he lifted the material and now both hands explored my now bare thighs; one of the most tender and sensitive parts of my body.  I managed to un-transfix myself and sat down adjusting the dress demurely.   Immediately he was up close again and kissed me. I didn’t refuse and as quickly as though no times had passed since I’d been to the toilet his hand moved stealthily up and under my skirt along my now naked legs, parting them and touching me, the thin cotton of my knickers, the thin barrier between me and his goal open.

He noticed. I know he noticed that I’d removed my vest too and once again unbuttoned my dress, one, two, three, until six were unfasted from the top.  He pulled it away from my chest, cleavage and bra, their blue cups still hiding my nipples from his touch and gaze. I asked myself again, who was this stranger who has managed to seduce me this far and I couldn’t resist.  My legs shook to his touches and hips moved naturally in waves.  I gasped a huge exhalation as his fingers slipped into my knickers.  Surely I must’ve seen that coming. He touched me where I was now moister than ever where my flesh felt alive, flushed as he slipped between over my clit until he was edging inside me fingering me with delicate vibrations.

Without further thinking I edged my hips forward which parted my legs more and he slipped in further making my eyes water.  Thankful as I was too of the high backed and almost secretive little cave of seats that surrounded us meant we were pretty much invisible, unless of course someone walked by.  Luckily no one did, but I imagined if they had, what would they have thought! I also hoped and prayed there wasn’t a stop coming anytime soon.   I finally had the courage to move my hand over his jeans finding his soft spot only to find a hard spot; hard and bulging and clearly desperate to escape.   I rubbed him there at which he unfastening the button, unzipped his jeans and invited my hand inside; insistingly.

I did what he wanted, what I wanted probably.  It was hot there, huge and pulling it out confirmed it and so very hard and swollen.   I masturbated him as good as I could as his hand worked into me, into my knickers.

He pulled me closer and worked his way into my seat lifting and lowering me onto him, his lap.  I leaned into him making sure I was still hidden and not above the height of the seats. He grabbed my hips and moved me and him together and I slid along his legs mere inches watching my thighs closing in on his erection, his very substantial erection.  He pushed up my dress, eased his fingers again into my knickers edging them to one side and pulled me until I felt his monster press against my mound.

He looked, smiled, I just did what I guessed he wanted and opened myself with my fingers and felt him ease inside me, along the wet skin, skin against skin, stretching me as my thighs fell to either side of his lap.  His hips moved forcing himself deeper as I could no longer refuse to accept every inch of him swelling inside me. He began moving my hips along with until we were in sync.  He kissed the skin of my cleavage and slipped a hand behind, undid my bra freeing my tits; his large hands covered them easily.

Each time I shifted my weight he slid further into me, stretching, deepening. I could feel myself close to crumbling inside as his and my own breathing quickened while keeping as quiet as we could, my breasts shook with the motion and he pulled me flat too him and pushed and pushed harder now gripping and digging his fingers into my hips. He was so hard, so big and so deep my hips being ground into his and then I released an orgasm having held on for as long as possible. I tightened around him and almost fainted. I could barely handle him still being in me but I did, biting his lower lip as I felt him come, his stream flowing into me for several seconds. It was then I collapsed, my whole body gave way with him still inside me no doubt leaving me his last drops as our hips swam in the same moist warmth.

I did eventually climb off him, with difficulty it has to be said, especially while trying not to make a mess, or any more of one than we already had.  I took a few moments, steadied my breath, smiled at him to find him grinning back all red-faced and pulled my bra down, buttoned my dress and pushed it down so I could stand without drawing too much attention. I staggered as ladylike as possible on my jelly-legs to the toilet, bag in hand.  I left him sat there no doubt tidying himself up to half-decent, and concealing once again his rather spent appendage.

I got back to the seat eventually where nicely we sat actually holding hands but with absolutely nothing to say, just smiling to ourselves.  Eventually his stop came, we kissed one last time, he stood cheek and got off the train waving from the other side of the glass as we pulled out and I found myself once more watching the world speeding past in one continuous blur.

© 2019 Emmaleela