My Train Adventure

So, I just recently joined Literotica after reading and listening to stories for years. But how to start? Just this morning on the train I decided to give it a go and it led to something incredible that I thought you all might appreciate.

I was sitting in a window seat on Amtrak (I commute a long way to the office), working on the beginning of an erotic story when a woman stowed her coat and bag in the luggage rack above sat down next to me. She was dressed to impress, as women commuters often are: purple silk blouse tucked into a slinky black skirt falling just above the knee and slit up the side. I glanced over as she sat down and we exchanged smiles. Then she turned to a legal pad, and I turned back to my story, hoping I could angle the screen so she couldn't see what I was writing.

Well, just as I was getting into narrating a particularly hot part, feeling my cock growing hard inside my suitpants, I looked over at my companion in the aisle seat and caught her eyes on fixed my laptop. She quickly averted her eyes and cleared her throat. I probably blushed, worrying that she might make a scene or express outrage at what a stranger was writing just inches away from her.

But then I got a mischievous idea. I decided to scrap my story and begin writing about my neighbor. I wrote about her blouse and her skirt and how hot she looked and how lucky her coworkers were to spend the day looking at her gorgeous tits and ass and how much I wish she'd just reach over and start stroking my cock through my pants while we careened through central New Jersey on the way to the office. And then I glanced back over and confirmed my hopes: she was reading again, and this time she didn't avert her eyes.

On the contrary, I noticed that her left hand had fallen across her chest, and her left thumb was lightly flicking her right nipple through her blouse as her eyes roamed over my text. And so I wrote about what she was doing. And then began an incredible dance between us, with me sometimes passively narrating her movements, and sometime guiding them with my written suggestions. Soon both arms were crossed over her stunning, full tits, with both thumbs rubbing her nipples, circling them, lightly pinching them, stroking them. Before long the nipples were standing out, peeking over the top of what -- from the strap revealed on her right shoulder -- looked to be a black lace bra, the kind with delicate cups that present a woman's breasts to the world for display, with the nipples barely obstructed by fabric.

That's when I noticed that the jostling of the train was leading our knees to knock into each other every few seconds -- and finally made an effort to maintain the touch, which she didn't resist. This, too, I narrated in my story on the screen, admitting how exciting it was to feel the body of an aroused stranger touching mine. She must have liked that comment because next she abruptly stood up and grabbed her coat, which she then laid across her lap. Part of my longed for her to extend the coat over mine, too, so I might have a chance to feel her hand graze my granite-hard cock -- or at least get the opportunity to stroke it myself. By now I was aching for release, pre-cum soaking through the front of my pants. That would be a problem for work, but I couldn't have cared less about it now.

Anyway, that didn't happen. Instead, she leaned back partway in her seat and began to caress her pussy. I knew that's what she was doing because she made a point of moving her arm and hand a little more than she probably needed to, just to be sure I saw what was going on under the coat.

So I kept on writing, and she kept on playing; she got closer and closer to cumming, and I got hornier and hornier. More than once I almost plunged my hand under he coat to give her a hand, but I didn't want to risk a scene, to transgress an unspoken boundary between us. Eventually, as the train shot under the Hudson River on its way to Penn Station, she came. Or so I concluded by a shudder of her leg, her blissfully fluttering eyes, and the slightest moan escaping from her lips.

As the commuters gathered their things around us, my companion straightened herself out, stood up to collect her bag, and then looked down at me sitting there with a glistening tent in my pants. Holding out her right hand, just inches from my face, she offered me a handshake -- and I inhaled the smell of her pussy. It was almost too much to bear. It took all the restraints of civilization to keep me from grabbing her, ripping off her soaking panties, and fucking her wildly until I came blissfully inside her. Instead, I just took her hand in mine and said that it had been a pleasure to meet her, and that I hoped we'd run into each other on the train again.

And that was my adventure on the train.