The train rattled through the English countryside on its journey to the West Country. The young man sat gazing through the window, half asleep; swaying gently back and forth with the motion of the carriage, the latest magazines of summer 1958 lay on the vacant seat next to him.
At the last station his peace had been disturbed when the train stopped and a man and woman had joined him in the small compartment. He had cursed, as he was sure there must have been many other empty compartments they could have occupied. Besides, whilst browsing through the latest edition of Tit Bits several pictures of scantily clad females had caused a stirring in his loins making him debate whether he could get away with massaging his cock, secretly and carefully.
Now he was disappointed and had hardly glanced at the intruders, leaving them to mutter and whisper to each other under their breath. As the train gave a particularly sudden jolt as it crossed over a set of points the young man lifted his head and noticed the woman gazing interestedly at his paper whose pages had flicked open from the draught. She smiled at him as his eyes darted to the page to see what had caught her attention. A pin-up of generous proportions, clad in sexy underwear was clear to see. The youth felt slightly embarrassed by the woman's smile, like she might know what lewd thoughts were in his mind.
Looking back out of the window he was more alert now and though he intended to completely ignore the couple he felt a compulsion to let his eyes drift back toward the woman. She still had the trace of a smile on her face and she too watched the cows and buildings move across their view as the train lumbered on. Her leg moved, or rather her knee; she seemed fidgety, as though she needed to be more comfortable, then her left leg lifted from the floor crossing over her right. Maybe she was absent-minded and forgot he was sat directly across from a man but in any case she added to her comfort, loosening the tightness of her skirt by hitching up the hem a few inches. The youth wondered exactly when she had divested herself of her coat that now lay on the far side of the seat next to her male companion.
Now the young man's eyes were drawn to the shapely thigh of the crossed leg and the hitched up skirt. His fast beating heart matched the throbbing of his rising cock, which was putting pressure on the material of his trousers. He needed to cover his crotch and ease the discomfort it was causing -- maybe he too needed to cross his legs to hide his erection. The woman slowly turned her head and to add to his anxiety widened her smile just a little. Was she aware of the effect she was having?
It was shockingly stunning and breathtaking that at the same time she gave a gentle wriggle of her posterior and slightly raised the knee of her crossed leg, uncovering an expanse of white skin right at the very top of the underside of her ample thighs. Now the man was smiling too, or more accurately, smirking, pretending to be studying the small pictures that were fixed to the carriage walls. The woman, however, now focused her stare fixed directly his way.
"How far are you going?" she asked.
"Well, I'll be getting off at Truro but I'm going to St. Ives," the young man answered. "And you?"
"We go all the way," the woman said, with a wicked grin. As though she had to make amends for her comment she added, "I'm only kidding -- we're not going all the way to Plymouth. We're spending a few days in a little cottage but we have to pick up a vehicle first -- getting off at Truro, like you."
She didn't bother to divulge where the cottage was.
"What's your name?" she asked softly.
"John -- I'm mainly known as JC though."
As he spoke the woman, though continuing to smile his way as they spoke, lifted her leg slightly and tugged up her hemline a little bit more. John's eyes could not help but dart to see what delights were now uncovered and his voice hesitated briefly as he thought he spied a tiny bit of colour that surely must have been her panties. His subconscious mind had told him to keep looking and catch the sight before she adjusted her clothing and restored her dignity -- but she didn't and left him ogling at her lower regions.
It may have been only a few seconds, or even less, but suddenly he felt exposed, his lewdness obvious and blatant. He was very shocked, not to mention confused when his brain registered that the man and woman were actually exchanging knowing looks, grins.
"Maybe we can take you on the rest of your journey -- drive you to St Ives -- if you stay with us and wait while we collect the car?"
The man now spoke and agreed with the woman, "Yes, that's okay with me -- if you'd like that JC -- can I call you JC?"
John nodded. It was weird. As they carried on this normal conversation he was compelled to keep looking between the woman's legs. Surely she must know he was actually able to see her stocking tops, her suspenders, and the naked flesh of her upper thigh, almost right up to her knickers? Any second now he expected either the man to remonstrate with him or the woman to shriek with disgust when she realised what view she was exhibiting.
"My name's Tom," said the man.
"And I'm Deirdre -- but you can call me Dee," purred the woman. "How old are you JC?"
"Almost twenty."
He answered noticing the woman looking directly into his eyes -- as she let her leg uncross and her foot return to the floor -- but instead of smoothing down her skirt she hitched up the hem a tad more! Now the whole mechanism of how her stockings were held up was clearly on view. Now John could see white flesh above stockings on both thighs! He could see the clasps of her suspender belt and how they gripped the thicker band of nylon at the top. The woman was smiling at him -- so was the man.
"You're still a boy really," she teased. "I'm well into my thirties -- do you like older women? When you look at pictures I mean -- glamour pictures?"
John gave a nervous laugh. They were waiting to hear his answer.
"I don't suppose I've thought about it," he said coyly. "I guess it depends on how good the woman's figure is."
He felt his cheeks blush as the couple both keep their gaze on him seeing him unable to prevent his eyes from focusing on Dee's midriff. His own legs were still crossed and his hands folded in a bid to hide evidence of his erection.
"Do you think I have a good figure?"
Before he could answer she spoke again.
"Tom thinks I have a good figure. He likes me to show it off when I can. He likes to see other men admiring me. We're a bit naughty I suppose -- don't you think so JC?"
John croaked but words would not come out so he nodded instead. Something occurred to him so he tried to find his voice. He wondered if he was being made a fool of; he needed an answer to a question. Were these people a genuine couple or a pair of pranksters? Maybe con artists about to lift his wallet and bag while he thinks with his dick!
"Is Tom your boyfriend?" he asked.
Dee looked puzzled at the question then held out her hand, fingers outstretched to show a band of gold.
"He's my husband," she informed him. As though she was aware of his misgivings she sought to reassure him. "We like it when we see you looking -- enjoying what you see."
Staring intently at the young man Dee began to fiddle with the top button of her blouse.
"Will you do something for me JC? Will you move your hands and uncross your legs -- and let me see if you are hard?"
