Train Me Touch Me Pt 03

The next morning I stood on the platform, waiting in anticipation for the train to arrive. I'd taken extra care with my toilette today, ensuring to use the sensual rose scented perfume oil I'd been saving for a rainy day. What could I say, rose water was by far my favourite scent and it instilled in me a level of confidence I didn't usually have. Having applied a few drops behind my ears, around my throat, in the space between my collarbone, on the insides of my wrists and finally leading down my cleavage which peeked out through my shirt where I'd left a few buttons open. Yes, I knew Japan was on the modest side when it came to cleavage, but I couldn't help it. For once, I kinda wanted everyone to look, I just didn't know why.

In Japan, spring was finally blooming into summer with the weather getting brighter and the temperature rising. A fine sheen of sweat had already begun to bead across my forehead, rolling down the side of my face, across my throat, mingling with the rose oil and carrying it to other parts of my body like a gentle stream.

I shivered as I imagined him discovering all of those places. How would he react? Would he like the scent as it travelled across my skin? Would he even notice it? And what would he do once he discovered those places? Uncovered them to his eyes, fingers and lips? Would his sexy breathing increase too? I felt my pussy grow wet as my mind gave over to such carnal thoughts. I squeezed my thighs together and took a deep breath. At least the train would have air conditioning, that way I could cool off and not embarrass myself with all the sweating.

The Japanese Railway, also known as JR platform, was busy as usual with people milling around to and from the station. A typical weekday morning within rush hour saw the bulging amount of bodies nearly falling onto the tracks. I looked up at the train arrival board and noted that the local train I opted to take was the next to arrive. Yes, I could take the express train and that would get me there in half the time, but I liked being able to unwind, relax and enjoy my journey. Of course, I also aimed to enjoy it in a slightly different way. My cheeks heated at the thought and I ducked my head in case anyone saw.

My mind decided this was the opportune moment to chastise me. What if he didn't show? Look at you Carmen, dolling yourself up for a man you don't know. Yet, you never did that for Tony...but Tony never cared about my pleasure. Never made my heart race, or pussy throb. The molester on the other hand...

A computerised feminine voice announced over the speakers that my train would be arriving next. With that, I, like the other commuters, scrambled to line up in the appropriate spot. Sure enough, the train rolled slowly into the station. Now, my breath was coming out rapidly. My nipples aching under my shirt, I longed to feel those hands again.

But where was he? The only way I could identify him was by his voice. I looked up and down the platform as people began to push their way onto the train, my search temporarily halted as I was carried along with the sea of sweaty bodies. Once safely within my usual train car and standing at my usual spot in front of the doors, with my right hand firmly gripping an overhead hand strap and of course sandwiched between shoulders - I once again craned my neck searching for anything out of the ordinary.

I rolled my eyes, it was fruitless as I wouldn't even know what to look for. My option being to wait for him to find me. My pussy throbbed at the thought and I fanned myself with my left hand. With a start I noticed the air conditioning wasn't on, the heat in the carriage growing due to the amount of people who were pressed together. Damn Japan, of all times to not have a working AC.

Once again, I found myself trapped between a salaryman who wasn't wearing a blazer and a student. This time, however, instead of a schoolgirl in uniform it was a schoolboy. Some older teen with his head buried in a manga. As the train rumbled out of the station his elbow brushed against one of my nipples and an electric current shot to my clit. I would have gasped if I hadn't clamped my mouth shut. I stared out of the corner of my eye at the teen. Was it him? God, I hoped not. Even if I was thirsty for some carnal fun I definitely drew the line there.

However, thankfully it seemed he was transfixed by his comic and completely oblivious to me and my wayward thoughts. A sigh of relief ensued, especially when he also turned his back to me and I noticed the wireless earphones in his ears. Yep, completely unaware.

What's wrong with you, Carmen? The rational part of my mind demanded. She was annoying, yet apparently the only surviving slither of sanity that I still possessed. Despite deciding to accept that molester's game last night, she just wouldn't give over. Demanding all the bloody time for me to rethink my actions, reconsider my desperation as simply that, desperation. She'd reminded me numerous times that I didn't need to pursue something so dangerous, that I could seek out a healthy relationship. One where I wasn't trying to get a stranger to fuck me. One where I knew what he looked like, knew what his name was, what he did for a living. Knew that he wasn't into molesting desperate women on trains.

Y'know, all the

normal

stuff. I usually listened to her, usually saw the value in her harsh critical observances. Yet now, I had to remind her that she wasn't always right. If I'd listened to her yesterday, I would have missed out on the greatest orgasm of my life. One I wished to definitely repeat.

The train slowed at the next station, the doors whooshing open in front of me, startling me out of my reverie. Once more the uniformed teens rushed off, the manga reading boy with them. They were replaced by passengers mainly dressed in work clothes like me. The salaryman moved slightly forward, flexed his aching shoulders before returning to his original spot. I didn't bother to move when a seat became available this time, I'd realised yesterday that it was best to stay where I was. Besides, it was quickly taken by someone who wasn't the little old lady with her green shopping bag. I raised my eyebrows at the thought of seeing her again, no thank-you. That would be all too embarrassing.

The speakers played the musical jingle that once again announced the doors were closing and the train was set in motion. I frowned, my mind finding itself back on yesterday morning's train. After this station, the molester appeared and-

A hand suddenly slid around my neck. I did gasp now, but it remained trapped in my throat as the owner of the hand's index finger began to stroke enticingly across the dewey, sensitive skin. The hand was loose, but still made my head tilt back slightly. I gulped. Was it him? A sense of fleeting apprehension filled me. What if it wasn't?

"You came." A man whispered in Japanese. It was him, it was him! My nipples hurt with how hard they grew and I couldn't help but feel embarrassed at this. Not to mention how my pussy gushed with wetness. How was this stranger capable of doing this to me? I didn't even know anything about him. I felt his breath on my neck, masculine hips once again pressing into my back. It was undeniable the effect he had on me, but why? "What are you, a desperate slut?" Desperate, definitely, but a slut? Hmm...

My breathing sped up and I started to feel a little lightheaded, the train car was getting hotter. He leaned in and gently grazed his nose across the side of my neck, inhaling as he went. I shuddered, skin tingling. Why did such a simple action make me react so much?

"You smell divine. Floral with something else." His tongue snaked out and flicked across the place that seconds ago his nose had explored. "So, sweet."

My toes curled. I couldn't help the blush that made my ears heat. I closed my eyes as I felt the fingers that weren't hugging my throat slowly begin to follow the rose oil on my skin, his breath leading the way. The sensations made me quiver and the anticipation stilled my breath. I was lost once again. Lost to a man with a face I didn't know, his warm hands almost cool against my heated skin. He stroked small circles into the moisture, his fingers gliding down into my cleavage. He then paused, enjoying the building anticipation of his assault. Finally, I felt his hands tug open my shirt, pulling the fabric out from where I'd tucked it into my skirt. His hands moved inside, trailing up the flat of my stomach and up to my breasts. He roughly pushed the lacy black cups of my bra out of the way and grasped the aching mounds of flesh he found there. I couldn't hold in the moan. Thankfully, the rumbling of the train dulled any sounds I made.

His fingers flicked across my nipples, before continuing down to my more daring areas. I waited with bated breath, lightheaded and aroused beyond comprehension. The hand that still held my throat thrummed with the erratic pulse under it. His right hand emerged from under my shirt and drifted down the pleated skirt I wore until it found itself at my thigh. I bit my lip, shallow breaths and aching flesh. I knew he was taking his time, prolonging the torture, but I could also tell he intended to reward me for my patience. Despite this, every second felt like hours.

Please, I begged inwardly. Please, hurry.

My eyes widened as I felt a hardness grow at my back, a confirmation that I wasn't the only one affected physically by this scenario. My mind buzzed, if it wasn't for how tightly packed the train was I would have turned around and- his right hand met the exposed flesh of my upper thigh.

"What's this?" His soft baritone whispered in my ear. I'd dressed for the event, not only with perfume, but with lacy underwear and the sexiest stocking and suspender combo I could find. Unused gifts from my university days. He'd paused at the unexpected skin so unlike the tights I wore yesterday and he licked at my throat, almost moaning into my ear. He grew even harder at my back.

He suddenly moved and I gasped. Unbelievably, he'd found enough space to crouched down, his face level with my arse. He moved my skirt up and stared at the strip of flesh between my stockings and panties. I couldn't see him as he'd tucked my skirt over his head, forcing my legs apart. A lick across the back of my right thigh and a cool wash of breath. I shivered despite the heat, my body thrumming. I looked around, thankfully no one else seemed to be aware of his wicked game.

He then crawled in between my thighs so that he was in front of me and the doors were at his back. The wetness of my pussy once again soaking my underwear and like a bee to honey his mouth joined. His lips enveloping my underwear, with his fingers kneading into my thighs.

The pleasure was sharp, sudden and encompassing. My legs almost buckled, but I used every bit of strength that I possessed to keep myself upright. My hand gripping the overhead hand strap for dear life. His teeth pulled the scrap of lace to the side and his tongue attacked my clit, one of his fingers making its way into my wet vagina. Soaking wet, more like. I groaned out a breathy and loud moan, mortification painting my neck and face. Apparently, the train couldn't drown out every sound as the salaryman that stood next to me whipped his head around. He took in my sweaty appearance: my partially opened shirt that had been pulled out of my skirt, how my shirt had become damp and see-through showing how my bra had been pushed above my breasts, highlighting the outline of my dusky nipples underneath. His shocked gaze hardened my nipples further, even though the rational side of my brain desperately wished to cover up.

My hands moved to my shirt, letting go of the overhead hanging strap above. But before they could achieve their goal of modesty, my molester's hands reached up and gripped them. Yanking them down to my sides and forcing me to remain within the salaryman's transfixed gaze, whilst the molester's tongue still performed gymnastics in and out of my folds.

The salaryman's eyes whipped down and took in the image of some unknown assailant kneeling under my skirt, before they travelled back up to meet my eyes. His embarrassment was clearly displayed through the reddening of his pale features. However, much to my mixed horror and...arousal...he didn't look away. Instead, he somehow contorted his tightly packed body, so he could stay facing me. Stay watching me. His eyes never leaving me. I noticed a bulge growing in the front of his black trousers, but thankfully he made no move to touch me. Instead, he seemed satisfied with simply watching. I shut my eyes rejecting the image in front of me, rejecting the part of myself who was thrilled at the concept of being seen.

"No, keep your eyes open," came the disembodied voice from under my skirt. How he knew I'd closed my eyes, I couldn't tell you. "Keep looking into his eyes. If you stop, I stop."

My eyes began to prick as I reopened them, shuddering under the salaryman's probing gaze. The pleasure building as my body jerked and twitched. My nipples threatening to tear holes through my thin shirt. I couldn't help wondering what was going through the salaryman's mind, was I just some foreigner whore entertaining him on his morning commute? I almost moaned at the thought. Also, why was the molester making me do this?

The molester's tongue was relentless and the salaryman's eyes remained glued to mine. I gasped through gritted teeth, my face contorted in both pleasure and shame. I felt the molester's mouth clamp over the opening of my vagina, his tongue slurping the juices, before he moved back to suction on my abused clitoris. I opened my mouth to groan in pleasure, trying to trap the desperate sounds in my throat. Almost gulping them down. No, this was beyond me. This was mortifying. I was practically sobbing through my pleasure, my sweaty hands trapped at my sides. Beads of moisture rolled out from under the salaryman's hairline and lightly painted the white shirt under his armpits, a darker shade. The air in the train was stifling, the waves of pleasure unbearable. My mind shattering as my hands fisted and unfisted at my sides, the molester's grip was just as unwavering as his tongue.

Without warning, the train jerked to a stop at the next station, where thankfully the door opened on the opposite aisle, behind us. A tidal wave of passengers got on, nearly pushing me over in the process. I fell forward, only for the molester to push me sideways so I wouldn't crush him. A shocked gasp from my lips, as my hands were still trapped at my sides. This time instead of landing against the door with my face squished against the window, I had been pushed so my side landed on the salaryman's chest. He cradled my aching body and I shamelessly turned my head to bury my face in his shirt, the molester lifting one of my legs slightly so he had more room. The pleasure was intense. All sounds fading away. As the jingle faded and the train pulled out of the station, the jerking movement caused one of my breasts to rub deliciously against the salaryman's chest. I cried out in pleasure, muted by his shirt.

I grounded my throbbing pussy into my molester's face as the salaryman held me up tightly against him. His bulge pressed into my side. The carnality of my situation was beyond anything I'd ever experienced and I ached for more. So much more. Yet, it still wasn't enough, it was like the molester was holding back somehow.

"Tell him what you want me to do to you." The muffled baritone ordered. I moaned at the sound of it. God, his voice alone could make me come. I was so desperate that of course, I obeyed. I pushed back slightly from the salaryman, enough that my lips were just below his ear. I could feel his heart racing, just like mine.

"I want him to-"

"Louder," the baritone commanded. "I want to hear you as well." I took a deep breath, bit my lip and summoned enough sanity to form a sentence.

"I want him to make me come." I desperately begged the salaryman in a slightly louder voice.

"How would he do that?" The salaryman spoke for the first time, his voice raspy with need. I bucked against him, gasping and moaning before composing myself enough to find my words. The molester kept slowing his ministrations whenever he waited for an answer. It was really bloody frustrating. Make me come! I screamed in my head. Stop torturing me!

"I don't know-" I yelped in surprise as the molester's teeth nicked my clit, before soothing it with his tongue.

"I don't think that's a good enough answer." The salaryman observed. The molester made a sound of agreement from below.

"But, I don't-" He nicked my clit again, making my legs almost buckle and again when I gave a similar answer. The sweet pain made the loss of pleasure all the more awful as he denied my release.

Shit, I needed him to make me come. Finally, I could take no more. "Fucking tell him to mess my pussy up and stop being a little bitch!" I bit out harshly. My cheeks heated and the salaryman groaned. The molester paused and I wondered if I'd said something wrong, don't tell me he was going to stop. I think I'd die if he did.

I let out a shocked scream, thankfully muffled into the salaryman's shirt. The molester has suddenly let one of my wrists go, which I immediately fisted into the salaryman's shirt and pushed three fingers into my greedy vagina. He started pumping them in and out wildly, practically fucking me, his mouth making short work of my clit. He would then curl his digits so that they rubbed across my front wall, scraping my g-spot deliciously. He alternated between the two, fingering me and then he'd pay my g-spot some much needed attention, while his tongue flicked and sucked my clit. I could hardly breathe.

The salaryman had no choice but to hold me tightly as I bucked, jerked and writhed furiously in his arms. Not that it was a problem for him, his bulge never seemed to reduce. I moaned and gasped, my body trembling and then there it was. The orgasmic light at the end of the tunnel. It covered every area of my skin, every curve, slope, dip and fold. My mind completely abandoning all reason to it. My flesh tingled as every orifice was filled with it, set alight and left to smoulder until there was nothing left but ash. I screamed out, my head swung back as my body convulsed, a fire burning its way through me. Consuming everything in its path.

The salaryman was unable to contain my body lurching and flopping about like a beached fish or my volume. The already quiet train car went deadly silent, the only sound being my screaming and the rumble of the train.

I collapsed to the ground and everything went black.