I had agreed to go into Central London, for three days, to give some student talks and discussion seminars at a business college - I am a 41 year old business woman.
I decided to travel into London each day by parking my car at a convenient Underground Station (known also as the tube or subway) and then travelling the rest of the way by train. This was preferable to driving the full journey because of Central London's traffic jams, car parking difficulties and the dreaded congestion charges.
I didn't have to get to the college until midday so the commute in on the Monday was fine. I sat back and let the train take the strain. I felt quite refreshed and relaxed when I arrived and my first lecture was well received.
Homebound was a little different as my return journey was in the rush hour. The Underground was heaving with people and it was a case of just getting on my train somehow. I forced my way aboard and was jammed with people all around me - we were very squashed together. And then I felt it!
I had my back to a young man and I could feel him pressing against my bottom and, sure enough, he had an erection. I felt shocked at first and then, to be honest, excited. I had heard that this sort of thing happens but had never experienced it before.
Now I know most women would have tried to move forward a little, but I didn't. I actually moved my bottom firmer against him - accidentally of course! I could feel his hard penis almost wedged between my buttock cheeks and it made me feel so turned on. My mind raced ahead and I was having fantasies of fucking on the train with other people all around watching. I knew I was getting wet at the thought.
As I hadn't moved away the young man got bolder and was actually moving his cock up and down slowly.
"God!" I thought, "He's trying to work himself off."
I was getting more and more turned on and I pushed back against him again so that I could perhaps help him cum.
"Was this all in my mind?" I wondered.
I felt it was for real, well my bottom did! I actually pushed one hand against my pubic mound, hoping no one would see. Fuck, this was so erotic and then - damn - I reached my station where I had to get off.
I looked round at the young man and he smiled at me. I made my way onto the platform almost shaking with excitement and pleasure. I felt so horny.
The drive home from the station, about thirty minutes, went by in a flash as I imagined all sorts of wild sexual fantasies.
That night in bed alone, as my husband was away on business for the week, my mind was in a turmoil. Over and over the feelings of how I felt in the Underground train flooded my mind. I couldn't get the thoughts out of my head and my body started responding in kind.
I kicked off the bedcovers, removed my nightdress and gave in to my desires. My hands touched my breasts, my nipples already hard, and I groaned out to no one in particular. I reached down to my stomach and further to my pussy. I was unbelievably wet and my finger easily sunk between my vaginal lips, my hips moving automatically upwards to meet my hand. Another finger was needed and then another as I started to push in and out of my silken, sodden passage.
I didn't need to stimulate my clit, my internal muscles were already beginning to tighten on my fingers as I reached an almighty orgasm. I cried out in ecstasy, passion and sheer sexuality. I was pushing my cunt high in the air as my fingers plundered my insides.
I carried on pumping until I came again and then again. It had been ages since I had felt such animal sexuality.
Eventually I lay still and fell into a restless sleep.
The next afternoon, Tuesday, I made my way to the Central London college. My lecture was okay but I felt as if my mind was elsewhere and I kept thinking of the journey home.
At 5.45 p.m. I was on the Underground platform awaiting my train. There were as many people as yesterday and I knew the train would be packed with commuters. I heard my train approach and, as I did so, I saw the same young man as yesterday. I felt my face flush when he spotted me. He followed me onto the carriage and stood behind me.
"Hi!" he whispered. And his body pressed against me.
"The wonder of a young virile man," I thought as his erection grew and I could feel it against my bottom. My knees seemed to weaken as his hands touched my hips. He gently pulled me towards him and I offered no resistance. His hands moved downwards to my buttock cheeks and he squeezed them gently, his penis moving up and down slowly.
I wished we were somewhere alone where I could lift my skirt, pull aside my thong and let him touch my moistness. I needed sexual release.
He continued to move his cock up and down and then, barely audible, he grunted in my ear, his hot breath tickling and adding a new dimension to my sensitivity.
"He's cum," I told myself, "He's fucking cum."
Suddenly I realised it was my stop and I made a move to leave.
He whispered in my ear, "Don't wear any knickers tomorrow."
I rushed off the train, trembling. How dare he say such a thing to me. What or who did he think I was? I was flustered and yet felt alive and sexy. It was lovely to be desired.
When I got home I was wondering if I had become, or was, a slut. The idea actually appealed to me.
I went upstairs to change out of my business clothes. I couldn't resist stripping off completely to see if I looked a slut when naked. In the mirror I saw my image and liked what I saw.
My tits were a good size and I liked the way they swung slightly as I moved and bounced if I walked. My nipples were hard and were standing out like organ stops. "I reckon I could hang my coat on them," I told myself.
