PART 2
I peered through the murky window of the train to try to get my bearings on where I was. It was now quite dark outside, although it was possible to make out the steep bank of overgrown vegetation immediately across the adjacent tracks. It gave me no indication of where I was, however, although I could determine that the train was dawdling along at a lazy pace. Perhaps I had missed an announcement? I turned down my music to listen out for an update and glanced around the carriage for signs of reaction from my fellow passengers.
The giggling teens were both looking at me as I turned my head towards them. The chubby redhead immediately dipped her head, the red blush of her cheeks clearly evident. The cute Indian, however, held my gaze for a moment or two, a faint, flirtatious smile appearing on her dark lips. I smiled back fully in response...breaking the spell completely! She ducked her head towards that of her friend and the two whispered and giggled conspiratorially. I blushed at my own foolishness. Attempting to flirt with a girl young enough to be my daughter!!! How ridiculous!! That said...she was very cute and I'd always had an attraction towards Indian women.
My already hard penis throbbed again at the momentary thought of enjoying the attention of such a young and attractive woman. Her friend wasn't especially attractive, though nor was she ugly, not by any means. I briefly allowed my imagination to wander to thoughts of what illicit naughtiness these two cheeky minxes might get up to together in their rooms at home...when their parents are downstairs innocently assuming the girls are listening to music and flicking endlessly through fashion magazines. Could they be intimately involved? Have they enjoyed the pleasure of one another's naked bodies...one so toned and dusky, the other curvaceous and pale...both so soft and virginal!!! I laughed to myself at the preposterousness of my fantasy!
I turned to the book-reading business woman. She was still absorbed by her book, a novel by Jill Mansell, I noticed. It was not as intellectual as I would have guessed from her professional attire, so it intrigued me. It seems this apparently serious woman has a frivolous side! I wondered what else this could mean. Her outfit was careful chosen, that much was clear...elegant and fashionable certainly...but a closer inspection revealed a lacy detail around the buttons of her blouse and, more intriguingly, a clearly defined seam on her tights. Were they tights? Or stockings perhaps? Holdups or suspenders?!!
My earlier encounter with my girlfriend's holdups sprang immediately to my mind...remembering the texture of the lacy elastic tops and the softness of her thighs. I knew that I was staring now, eyeing up this middle-aged siren! For that is what she had now become in my sex-craved mind! My admiring gaze took in the desirable curve of her calves and the sexy fullness of her skirt-clad thighs and rump and, of course, her tempting, tormenting, bosom that I had admired shortly before.
I watched the rise and fall of her breasts and wondered what lingerie she had selected that morning. I was sure it would have been a deliberate choice rather than a random grasp into her underwear draw. Her bra and panties would match, for sure. She would equally certainly be wearing knickers and not a thong. I surmised that she would know exactly what type of panty would best suit her full bottom and would be conscious of avoiding a visible panty line. Something lacy certainly, I thought probably French knickers or lacy hipsters. Probably white too or cream or ivory with a dainty, feminine floral pattern in the lace. I imagined the matching bra, cupping her heavy breasts, soft against her pale skin. Would it be see through? I didn't think so. I assumed I would have to unclip the clasps and free her breasts from their constraints in order to glimpse her nipples...large and fat, I hoped, ripe cherry-red set within wide round aureoles.
The more I thought and the more I looked the more that I wanted to suck them and bite them. I could imagine her moans...her hands grasping my head and pulling me into her bosom.
The train jolted, breaking me from my reverie. My eyes were fixed unashamedly on her breasts. Well, not so unashamedly...she was looking at me! My admiration had not gone unnoticed. I felt the wave of heated embarrassment sweep over my entire body and burning my cheeks! I instinctively looked away immediately.
Had she just glanced in my direction or had she actually noticed I was staring? Was she angry or was she sharing my embarrassment as she had done earlier? I thought she must think me to be completely perverted to have caught me appreciating her breasts twice within what, half an hour! I daren't look back, but I wanted to, needed to! I could feel my face radiating with heat. Even the tips of my ears were tingling! It was one thing to share a flirtatious smile with the cute teenager, but for some reason with this mature woman my thoughts felt transparent and I, in turn, felt naked and vulnerable. It was absurd!
I closed my eyes and tried to lose myself once again in my music and in thoughts of my girlfriend. Inevitably my mind's eye focused on my girlfriend's breasts...relatively small in comparison, with small pale buds that were quick to stiffen. I recalled again how she had gasped earlier when I grazed her nipple with my incisors and how she had pushed her chest toward my mouth, eager for my attentions.
I felt the brush of a shoe against my shin. I opened my eyes and realized that I had slouched down in my seat and was anti-socially taking up more of the foot space than was polite. The lady opposite must have knocked my shin whilst crossing her legs. I looked down and saw her foot an inch or two from my trouser leg. Deep red painted toes in a simple strappy black heeled sandal. I could also just make out a delicate tattoo; a leaf and floral pattern winding from the top of her foot around her ankle bone to the base of her shin. Her ankle was delicate and her calf slim, smooth and tanned except for the tiny pale blemish of a scar midway along her shin.
Her knee was slender, hooked over her other thigh and bent at nearly ninety degrees. From her knee my attention was naturally drawn along her long and shapely thigh. I noted the evenness of her golden tan and again the smoothness of her firm skin. Either she had plenty of time on her hands to enjoy the summer sun, or she was a frequenter of tanning salons; to the gym too given the sensuous but subtly athletic toning of her limbs.
My gaze lingered on this pleasurable sight before finally, eventually, lifting to the pale blue hem of her denim skirt...her extremely short denim skirt, upon which her magazine still lay. I guessed that when standing it reached to mid-thigh, though possibly higher, but as she sat in the train seat it had evidently ridden a few inches higher than that. For a brief moment I studied the dark triangle of shadow that was bordered by her skirt and the V of her crossed legs.
