Hormonal didn't even come close to what she was feeling. Horny, Sensual, Pliant. Relief was demanding her pussy steaming; bubbling with juices waiting to explode.
She wanted it. An Orgasm. To Cum. Her Climax.
Sitting in her usual corner in the train carriage her hands moved restlessly over her, helplessly gripping the fabric of her skirt.
She had been thinking about her lover, her imaginary lover, reveling in his worshipping routine treating her like a goddess, tasting touching invading her… everywhere.
A sandy blonde head peaked up and looked down the carriage to where SHE sat. He had an unlimited view of her without her knowing. A voyeur but he was in love so it didn't matter. Every day he would admire her long legs sometimes encased in the tightest of jeans or bare to all with the shortest of skirts. He was a leg man. He would guard her as she slept, watching her as she leant her head against the window, at peace. Other times he would see the frustration biting relentlessly at her heels. Her face was the window to her soul, and nothing more enchanted him than that.
Today he watched her face torn with sexual frustration, he knew, it was as if her body was sending vibes to him pleading him to stop the restlessness. His cock aching for those red painted lips as they gasped. Her eyes closed tightly as she fantasised. Her hands moving back and forth over her body, stroking the high slopes of her breasts down to clutching her pussy.
He shifted in his seat, easing the pressure on his growing cock. He watched avidly as her fingers crept down to the hem of her skirt and eased it up, stroking upwards as if she was her own lover teasing herself. Higher and higher her fingers went. Take them off! Take them off!' his mind begged of her, and as if by telepathy her black panties appear creeping down her thighs, knees to drop on the floor.
His cock bucked, responding to the source of pleasure, he stifled a groan, his treasure so achingly close but yet untouchable. His gaze fastened on her as his hands struggled to undo his button fly, moving the hampering cloth away he strokes his thick shaft, the pleasure forcing him to take their sensual finger dance to another level.
She would be sitting in the seat opposite him, shirt opened, skirt rucked up to her hips. Her brown eyes avidly watching his hand squeeze and milk his cock, while her hand cupped her bare breast her shaved pussy lips all juiced up ready to lick and suck.
The sudden change of momentum draws him away from his fantasy, he looks out the window noting that they were still many miles from their destination, noting nothing then turns back to his dream girl – to look into her deep brown eyes.
'Oh my god! He's watching me, his cock! I'm so horny! I want that inside me! I can't believe he's watching me.' Her mind scrambling over the facts, torn between decorum and relief. I could sit on him! I could slide that cock between my pussy! I could fuck him! I so want to cum! Her eyes were glued to his cock, gripped by his frozen hand, Reckless or temptation she couldn't resist and moved over to seat facing him. It was as if her hormones had burst and she was a sex devil. She smiled hesitantly at him, her eyes distracted by his cock and his face. He smiled, his face blushing back as if in agreement that they were two desperate adults wanting relief.
