Train Ride 2

Thankfully she sank into her seat, almost immediately closing her eyes, blocking out the vision of the train, the few passengers; a mother and small son, one or two generic business men, the punk, and some teenage kids. She normally took an earlier train, always packed with the after-work commuters. But tonight she had had some 'must be done' tasks at work. She completed them, of course, but it left her dead tired. So it was no surprise that she was lulled by the rhythmic movements of the train, head resting back against the seat, her dark red hair held with a large clip, saved from severity by the few tendrils escaping to frame her face softly.

A 'casual' person at best, her home wardrobe was simple, jeans, t-shirts, tennis shoes. This contradicted greatly with the clothes she wore for work -- cutting edge fashion, clothes of high quality, usually black, which made her appear much more serious than she was. Today was no exception. Wearing a new longer jacket, reaching to her knee, only slightly above her skirt, black of course, it contrasted starkly against her white shirt. Her jewelry was discreet, despite the hints of her personality peeking through -- three earrings in one ear, only one earring in the other, a holdover from her punk days. Bracelets on each wrist, small beaded gems, a simple larger man’s watch, and several silver rings, all hinting at a slightly quirky, 'different' kind of personality. Her one indulgence, so at odds with her rather conventional dress, were the black silk thigh-highs, worn with garters and no panties.

Her fellow passengers would be shocked to know she had been instructed not to wear panties, and always stockings, never nylons, by her Dom. To look at her, there was no hint of the submissive lurking beneath; in fact, the opposite may have been true. She looked ‘in-charge,’ in control. The image she presented to the world was complete, she could lead others to a common goal, take charge of any situation, make it happen. But deep down, in a place she couldn't name, she longed for and in fact had become a soft, moldable, very willing-to-please woman. Her Dom recognized her need and wasn't fooled by what she presented to the world. He knew she gave herself to him completely, without hesitation, and he gladly took that control, took her...

She shouldn't have been surprised by what happen next. This fantasy she had shared with him one long passion filled night. In the dark, their bodies slowly returning to normal, he held her, her voice soft, quiet, as she shared with him. He listened silently, stroking her hair, never commenting. But of course, he remembered, and acted on her whispered longings.

She was roused from her near-slumber by the presence of another. She sensed a body moving to sit beside her and her eyes opened, annoyed, knowing the train was not full. That this person should choose to sit next to her, rather than in a seat by himself brought a cross expression to her face. She turned to look at the offender and her green eyes widened to saucers as she stared into his familiar and beloved eyes. Her lips parted as she almost spoke, stopped only by his finger, placed gently against her lips. Instinctively, as she had many times before, she drew it into her mouth, sucking gently. His eyes smiled into hers, as he pulled his finger away.

Closing her eyes as he lightly pushed her back into her seat, her heart began to pound. Realization began to set in, as she felt his hand move beneath her skirt. Slowly his strong fingers stroked her thigh, kneading her flesh, lingering mere seconds before continuing on their journey. Their destination obvious, her already wet sex. The sounds of the train and its occupants retreated, leaving nothing but the feel of his hand as his finger teased her clit, slipping into her folds and spreading her lips. He worked his finger into her welcoming cunt, the action forcing a moan past her lips before she could contain it. One part of her mind, registered that there were others on the train who could witness this, in fact probably were.

Rather than repulse her, this knowledge excited her unbearably, and she pushed her hips against his invading fingers, beginning to hump them, forcing them deeper into her quivering cunt. Her head pushed back against the seat, forcing her breasts to jut forward, their small nipples visible beneath the simple cotton shirt. Without warning his fingers were removed, but her groan of protest was silenced as he pushed his coated fingers into her mouth. Her tongue licked her own juices, cleaning his fingers. Suddenly she felt something penetrate her. While she could not see what it was , she knew he had brought a bottle with him, and had eased into her dripping cunt. Her skirt pushed up obscenely, her sex, and the bottle used to penetrate her, visible to any inclined to look, he fucked her. Her mind fragmented...she focused on the feel of this thing filling her. The motion of the train, aided in propelling her against his hand.

She could feel the heat from his gaze. She knew he would be watching her intently, judging each reaction, keeping her safe, while he pushed her further than she ever imagined she would go. Her cunt clutched at the bottle impatiently, hips bucking, and within moments she reached her climax. The sensations began in the pit of her stomach and moved outward down through her legs, and through the rest of her body, causing even her nose to tingle. She bit her lip, drawing blood as she tried to muffle the sounds of her ecstasy.

As quickly as it began, it was over. The bottle removed, her pulled her skirt down, covering her still shaking limbs. His hand gentle as he pulled her face to his. Her eyes opened, watching, as he kissed her softly on her parted lips, whispering...'Breathe, pet,' reminding her, as always. The bottle was placed under their seats, as a token and the train slowed to a stop. He rose calmly, walking away from her, and off the train. She remained, having two more stops to go, and her eyes scanned her surroundings, a blush staining her cheeks as she saw the man sitting across from her, previously unnoticed. His hand was stroking his cock through his pants.

She looked away, staring out the window while the train pulled away. Her were thoughts calm, and accepting, words echoing through her head, a repeated refrain: “This is what I am…This is what I have become, His...”