Ticet to Finger

This is my first story, and I hope people find it enjoyable. I could not have done it without the help of my editor KillerKitty74 and the inspiration behind the story, Sarah.

Story:

The train slowly pulled into the station late; lumbering, screeching, and grinding to a halt. The platform was, as usual, busy. We, Sarah and I pushed our way towards the nearest door. As the leaving passengers managed to squeeze a path out, the waiting passengers surged forward, being swept along. Filing through the door, finding standing room only, we found ourselves pressed against the opposite door. The atmosphere became close; thick with the smell of sweat combined with the sweet greasy smell of the carriage. Sarah was just inches from me, facing me. We smiled at each other; there surrounded by a sea of strangers.

We were jostled together as the train surged forward bringing us closer and closer. Our arms were brushing against each other, with my hip bumping against hers. It felt electric. I could feel the heat emanating from her. My gaze was drawn to her beautiful face; her tantalizing lips, her soft sun-kissed skin, and shapely neck. Her silver pendant directed my gaze and probably everybody else's to her beautiful cleavage. My shifting balance gave me a deeper glimpse down her dress. With the heat, I noticed a slight sheen of perspiration on the surface of her skin. Her pert little tits, with no bra, had just a hint of her nipples pushing against the light fabric of her dress.

I'd known Sarah for five years, married to her for two but, honestly the way she looked right now made me feel like I did when we first met.

Steading myself, my hand found the small of her back. It was a seemingly innocent gesture to steady us as the train lurched from side to side. I could feel the delicate curve of her spine beneath my palm. It was a familiar geography that felt forbidden and exciting. Sarah giggled; a low sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Careful," she whispered. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint that revealed more than a little awareness of my touch.

Emboldened by her reaction, my hand began to stray. It slid down, so slowly, feeling the soft fabric of her dress against my fingers to trace the curve of her hip before finally settling just above the swell of her ass. I felt a thrill, a jolt that went straight to my core. Sarah's breath hitched and I knew she felt it too. It wasn't a place a husband would usually touch his wife in public, but right now in this crowded train, it felt like the most intimate caress.

The train swayed again, and I pressed a little closer. My fingers traced the edge of her cheek. Sarah looked up, her brown eyes dark and heavy with something more than just the fatigue of a busy day.

The train rocked, and I pressed my lips to her ear and whispered, "This is way more exciting than sitting, isn't it?" A shiver ran through her.

"Definitely," she breathed, her fingers squeezing my arm. The train seemed to melt away, the loud noises fading into the background. All I could feel was the warmth of her body against mine, the tantalizing promise in her eyes.

My hand slid down, reaching the hem of her dress.  Her outer thigh was so soft to touch. My hand slipped up her dress, tentatively gliding between her warm inner thighs, until I'm touching her panties. Gently I began rubbing the soft tight fabric, tracing her lips, feeling the heat, and something more...anticipation. Back and forth I gently rubbed her pussy through the dampening material. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. My attention was caught by a bead of sweat, running down the side of her face, hanging there timelessly before dripping onto her cleavage.

Her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. Was she remembering this morning when her mouth was wrapped around my cock. She was giving me a blow job, and I was satisfying her greediness by cumming fully in her mouth, which after swallowing she gave me that delicious mischievous grin of satisfaction.

I eased my finger inside her panties, touching her soft, moist, fleshy lips. My thumb sought out and focused on teasing her clit, feeling her soft pubic hair. My finger probed her fleshy moist centre, slipping into her wet, tight hole.

She adjusted her stance, widening her legs to allow better access for me to insert my finger deeper into her. My thumb still nestled on her clit. A slight moan escaped. With a sudden realisation of reality, she quickly covered the sound by her clearing her throat. I did not stop as she quickly sunk into ecstasy.

Slowly, I started pumping my finger in and out. I could feel her pushing back in perfect rhythm. Encouraged, I pulled out for a moment before inserting two fingers. I heard a slight gasp. Again, she had the slight realisation of where she was, but was less caring.

She tilted her head back slightly, grabbed my arm as I quickened the pace, pumping my fingers in and out. She was so wet. I looked down to see her juices spotting on her legs and on the floor.

This hidden corner, this crowded, uncomfortable train had become our secret haven. A testament to the fact that even in the most mundane of settings, a spark of romance can ignite with the slightest touch; the most unexpected moment.

The train announcement brought us back to reality. We had finally reached our stop. I pulled my sodden fingers out and wiped them down her inner thigh. We both adjusted ourselves. With a polite "Excuse me please," we disembark the carriage. Once on the platform, I turned her to me. She kissed me gently, looked deep into my eyes, whispered, "I love you... fuck me!"