A Good Way to Pass the Time

Think I'm going to be late.

Thankfully the country lanes to the station are quiet at this time of the evening so I just make it.

On reaching the car park I pull into a space as near as I can get to the platform. Jumping out I begin to head for the entrance.

'I wouldn't rush, it's late.' A woman's voice. I slow, look around. She's leaning against the back of a car a couple up from mine. I stop and look at her.

5' 8"ish, blond hair, attractive, wearing a loose fitting, knee length summer dress.

'Late?'

'45 minutes. Signaling problems apparently: usual excuse.'

'45 minutes?' She nods and folds her arms.

'Damn!' I look towards the entrance then back at the woman, weighing up my options. Should have checked the updates online.

I walk over and, indicating the space next to her, ask, 'Do you mind?'

'Be my guest.'

'Thanks.' Moving next to her I lean against the back of her car and adopted her pose.

'45 minutes?' I repeat.

'Yep.'

'Damn!'

'Yes you said, problem?'

'Not really but I'll miss the film.'

'Shame, which film?'

'The new Mission Impossible. You?'

'Waiting for the husband.'

'You look really fed-up.' And she did.

'Apart from having to wait 45 minutes you mean?'

I look at her and nod.

She sighs. 'Yeah,' she says in rather a contemplative way. 'it just means he'll be extra grumpy.'

'Oh. Sorry about that.'

She sighs again. 'Hardly your fault.'

'So I'm missing my film and you've got a grumpy husband to look forward to.' A moments silence between us both, then I said, 'Bloody British Rail.'

She chuckled then muttered, 'Yeah, bloody British Rail.'

Then suddenly I have a wild fluttering of butterflies in my stomach and, in a totally impulsive and mad move I lean across, turn her face towards me and kiss her. Her head flinches back, she frowns and there's a look of complete confusion in her eyes as they shift between my mouth and my eyes.

And I know how stupid I've been: I met this woman two minutes ago, exchanged probably less than a hundred words with her and I've just kissed her! Doesn't get any more stupid than that. And now I'm waiting for the rage.

Then, a long second later, the opposite happens. Her frown softens, her eyes seem to smile and relax and she closes the gap. Our lips meet, tentatively at first but the pressure slowly increases, my lips part and my tongue tickles her lips, then the tip of her tongue touches mine, we break apart, her eyes still on mine, enquiring. I take her hand and, pulling her with me, walk between the cars round to the front of hers.

I turn to her and, one hand behind her head the other on her hip, I pull her against me, again our lips meet, this time with a hunger, mouths nibbling and sucking, tongues twisting against each other, her hands either side of my head pulling me with a desperation.

I let go of her head and slip both hands behind her back, slide them down onto her bum and squeeze her cheeks through her dress then pull her against my already raging hard-on.

She groans and pushes back, rubs herself against me.

There's an urgency to this and, with our mouths still locked together, I pull her dress up until I reach the hem and it's bunched in my hands.

I lift it to her waist and push a hand into her knickers, stroke down over the smooth, warm skin of her buttock, cup her in my hand and squeeze again.

I twist and slide the hand round over her hip onto the swell of her tummy, feel the first crinkle of hair, push down a little further over the slight bump of her mons until I feel the rising heat of her arousal.

Touch her.

She groans into my mouth and her lips peel away from mine. I pinch her tongue between my teeth, suck on it.

Down a little further and a fingertip slips in. A sip of breath and a groan at the back of her throat. I let her tongue go and she presses her forehead to mine, her hot breath washing across my face.

I press against her pubic bone, rub up and down until she shivers and her fingers dig into my scalp.

Slide down a little further and follow the curve of bone, enter her.

Her thighs tense and she shivers again as I slide in and out, she groans and her hips begin to roll, just a little, just following the movement of my finger.

I keep moving, a gentle rhythm inside the soft, sticky heat until another shiver and I feel her squeeze against me.

I stop and slowly slide up to find her cliteris, immediately start to gently rub and tease, barely moving; tapping, flicking, stroking: tiny movements but constant.

Her just recovered breathing quickly builds again to a soft, shallow pant.

This time she doesn't move, just holds herself still, her fingers locked stiffly to the sides of my head, her eyes tight shut.

I keep it going; strumming her clit, my finger remorseless, my other hand now gripping her bum making sure she doesn't move.

Her eyes flicker open and she bites her bottom lip as a deep frown of concentration creases her forehead. Then her hands slip off the back of my head and her arms lock me in a vice that pulls my forehead painfully against hers, a moment later her groin begins to twitch against my hand and her legs start to shake as a low mewling builds at the back of her throat.

But I don't stop. I keep at her. Keep playing her until suddenly she cries out and the shaking becomes so hard that I'm physically having to hold her up.

But I'm struggling to hold her so I drag my hand out of her knickers and pull her against me, hold her against my chest as her legs continue to shake and refuse to support her weight. Her head drops against my neck and I can feel her teeth through my shirt, her sobbing breaths wet on my shoulder.

Eventually the shaking begins to dissipate and her breathing returns to normal until I feel her legs straighten and she takes her own weight.

'Oh god,' She whispers against my neck. 'what was that.'

It doesn't feel like a question.

But I decide to give her an answer, of sorts.

But not give her time to think.

I give her a quick twist with both hands and spin her around. Pull her back against me.

Then, lifting the front of her dress, I push her knickers down as far as I can.

She responds by lifting an arm over her head to pull mine against hers. She twists her head and actually giggles. 'Are you serious?'

I laugh at her mood and, pushing my hand between us, start to unbuckle my belt. 'Oh yes.'

And drop my jeans and shorts. Push myself against her.

She wiggles her bum. 'Mmmm, thank god for bloody British Rail.'

I laugh again. 'Fuck yeah.'

She groans and her breathing, once again barely recovered, quickens again.

I press the side of my face against hers, she presses back, there's an eagerness, a want, in her. I slide my hands up her body and cup her breasts: they're bigger, heavier than I'd expected: feel her hard nipples through her clothes, rub them between my fingers.

She gasps and I push forward with my chest until she sinks onto the bonnet to rest on her forearms. I again lift the hem of her dress and drop it onto her back, then quickly pull her knickers the rest of the way down and drop them onto the bonnet.

I take hold of my cock: it twitches in my hand, feels as though it's ready to burst. I rub the swollen head up and down the crack of her arse, she stiffens at the touch and I sense her holding her breath. Moving lower I touch myself to the still wet lips of her pussy, find that spot at the base and push slightly forward, just enough that I spread her lips. She gasps and her head lifts. I pull out and rub down her length, make contact with her clit and tease it until she starts to moan, slide back up to again find that spot.

And push, this time not stopping until I've slowly, agonisingly slowly, buried my full length inside her and I'm pressed up hard against her.

And, as I press against her, she shudders and her head drops onto the bonnet.

I start a deliciously slow fuck.

And then a car drives across in front of ours. I hadn't heard or seen it until it's directly in front of me and by the time I could have reacted it's already passed, and so I keep going.

She hasn't even noticed, just chooses that moment to stretch her arms in pleasure. 'Mmmm yes please.'

I return my attention to her: listen to the rasping of her breath and watch the gentle ripple across the soft globes of her arse each time my hips come up against them.

And then a movement catches my eye as a man's head appears above the car roofs about six down. He doesn't look our way, just sets off towards the station entrance.

l keep going.

Then another car passes. Seems that some people actually check the updates.

Maybe I need to get a move on.

So, gripping her hips with both hands, I begin to increase the pace until I'm making long swooping thrusts that have my hips smacking against her arse and my cock driving deep into her.

I'm trying to keep in control but I know it's getting borderline, know that if I keep this up it won't be long before my balls explode.

So I stop. Press hard up against her, grind against her bum, bump up against her cervix.

But I also know that I can't prolong this for too long, otherwise she's going to be bent over her car bonnet with me balls deep inside her in front of a train load of very interested commuters, one of whom will be even more interested than the rest.

And so, as soon as I feel the borderline recede, I start again with the long, deep thrusts.

She starts to bump back against me, meeting my every thrust, forcing me as deep into her as she can. She grasps at the top edge of the bonnet giving herself extra leverage, her forehead presses down and harsh grunts escape her lips each time my balls bump against her pussy.

I'm close, too close. But I can no longer stop; I'm too far gone for it to make any difference.

But she's close as well. She's groaning, grunting and squirming on my cock, she grabs at air then manages to get hold of a windscreen wiper, starts pulling against it. Her other hand reaches back and clutches at my hip, urges me on.

I'm going as fast as I can, cock plunging into her hot slippery tunnel, hips smacking against her juice covered arse, the car bouncing under us.

A fizzing begins at the back of my throat and there's a tingling building behind my balls. I try to keep going, to keep pulling her against me, to keep thrusting into her. But I'm also trying to hold it back, trying to keep it down for as long as possible.

But there's coming a point where I don't have to.

Her groans have deepened into a continuous growl. She's still pushing back with each thrust but now there's a short, jabbing urgency to them. Then suddenly she judders to a halt, her fingers claw at my hip and the walls of her pussy tighten in a liquid wash.

And that does it. Those sensations that were assailing me become overwhelming and the fizz rushes up the back of my head and the tingling spreads through my balls and across my arse then up my back.

And, after one last desperate push to get my cock as deep into her as I can, the heat becomes a scalding rush and I cum into her; it pulses out of me, filling her. She feels that first pulse and presses back against me, her wet bum rubbing against my hips, her muscles gripping my cock, squeezing me.

And, to hold myself against her as my orgasm shudders through me, I grip her hips and grind hard against her.

Until, after several hard spasms the pulsing subsides and I sink onto her heaving back.

For a whole minute we remain there: panting, the remains of our orgasms shivering through our bodies, both absorbed in the glow.

Then, as we lie there, the strident sound of a ringing bell begins to penetrate; the barriers are closing, the train's arriving!

We can't wait.

Forcing myself upright my shrinking cock drops out of her sopping pussy, a second later she stands and staggers, her dress drops back into place as I grasp her forearm.

'You OK?'

'God yes.' She replies in a very shaky voice.

'Sure?'

She straightens and brushes her fingers through her hair, clears her throat.

'Wow! Bit dizzy.' She takes a deep breath, laughs. 'Think I've just been fucked.'

Behind us the sound of the approaching train gets louder. I quickly pull my shorts and trousers up, take my wallet out of my pocket and remove a business card. I press it into her hand and grab her knickers from the bonnet of the car.

'If you want them back, text me.'

I kiss her hard, then more gently: soft lips against soft lips.

'Will he be able to tell?'

She gives a slightly sad smile. 'Not a chance, he never notices anything.'

I look at her for a moment. 'I'm David.'

She studies me for a second, then her smile brightens. 'Fran.'

I grin, wave her knickers at her then get into my car, start the engine and, as the train pulls in, I reverse out and, with one last look at her, now standing at the back of her car straightening her dress, I pull away.

An hour later, as I'm stepping from the shower, my phone beeps twice...