Layton stumbled into the train station, almost tripping over his own feet. He was singing drunkenly, making up nonsense lyrics about the fit blonde lass he had managed to fumble at the club, when suddenly he noticed that he wasn't alone, despite the fact that it was almost 2 in the morning. The figure, illuminated under a halo of light coming from a lamp overhead, was that of an attractive, curvy woman. He couldn't make out any details due to the shadows playing across her body (and the fact he was currently mostly seeing double) but he could see that she was definitely attractive.
Immediately, he straightened himself up, adjusting the collar of his polo shirt and smoothing his hair down to look a little more presentable as he sidled up to the woman.
"Good evening ma'am" He slurred a little. Getting closer, he could make out an attractive, if slightly aged face. From the forehead up she had a shawl tightly covering her head, and he couldn't see her eyes through the dark sunglasses she wore. Had he been thinking straight, Layton would have found this odd, given the late hour and pitch blackness of the night, but unfortunately he was currently thinking with the wrong head.
The woman let out a melodic giggle at his drunken attempt at an introduction, and spoke for the first time with a soft American drawl that sent shivers up Layton's spine.
"Well.. Hello there young man. I can tell someone has been out well past their bedtime." Despite the words carrying a slightly condescending undertone, her voice was syrupy and soft, seeming to draw Layton in with an almost hypnotic lull, making his brain feel like it was filled with cotton.
"Mh.. Are you from.. the uhm.. the US?" He asked dumbly. She let out another soft laugh at this, though Layton couldn't quite figure out the joke.
"In a manner of speaking" She replied "Though I came to Britannica a long time ago.."
Layton nodded along dumbly as she spoke, barely hearing her words. Her voice was causing a tirade of mixed emotions inside of him. On the one hand, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and he wanted to hear more. But behind that, there was a gnawing sense of dread, as though his body was trying to tell him something was wrong. The strongest emotion coursing through his body at that moment though, was an unbearable burning lust. His veins felt like they were on fire beneath his skin, and his now erect cock was throbbing every time her perfect, ruby red lips formed a new word. As she continued her story, Layton only caught a few indistinct and fuzzy words like "toy" and "listening," because his eyes were currently too busy roving her body. She was quite short, but made up for the height with a pleasantly plump figure, with large breasts, a small belly pouch under her cotton dress ('On a cold night like this?' the final bastion of rationale in Layton's brain tried to scream at him) which covered what he assumed was a pair of thick thighs he could practically envision wrapped around his waist.
The exact type of body he had a debilitating weakness for, even if he would never admit that to his friends.
"Layton honey? Are you feeling okay?" The woman suddenly asked. Layton nodded again, though he felt red hot, as if he was about to burn up.
"Oh sweetheart no.. you look terrible. Here, follow me, I can take care of you!" With these words, she turned and marched towards a blue door inset into the wall of the station, pulling a small key from her handbag as she did so and unlocking the door, swinging it open to reveal a long, pitch black corridor beyond. Almost automatically, Layton's feet carried him forward, following behind her like a lost puppy. As she walked she continued to speak, but he was far too busy staring at her ass as it bounced in front of him under her tight dress.
"..of course it's been a long time since I had a mate Layton, isn't that jus' awful?"
Layton zoned in just quickly enough to hear the question she directed at him. Through the thick fog in his brain, he attempted to be charming, trying to remember something- anything- from the wide assortment of porn he had watched that might be even vaguely flirtatious, but all he could muster was a weak:
"I would- uhm- I would mate with you anyday."
"Oh Layton honey, you're a doll!" Came the reply "but I wouldn't want to saddle you with an old hag like me.. you're a young man, you should be out makin' trouble with girls your own age!"
"N-no I mean it! You're uhm.. beautiful.. you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met and.. you've got this.. effect on me" he stammered, trying to navigate the fuzzy corridors of his brain to find reassuring words. Suddenly, almost as soon as the words left his mouth, her face was inches away from his, with her hand on his hip. The light they had stopped under cast an eerie, pallid glow on her skin, giving it an odd green tint that looked almost.. real. Before Layton could give it another thought, he felt her hand slip slightly and press against his throbbing hard-on. His knees buckled and be let out and involuntary moan, catching himself on a pipe running across the wall.
"Well sweetheart I was gonna ask if you were serious but.. by the feel of this monster, I'd say you weren't lying to me.." came a seductive hiss in his ear. He could almost hear the smirk in her voice as her lips opened again and her tongue slipped across the shell of his ear and down his neck, her hand simultaneously squeezing his bulge and causing another low moan to pass his own lips. He felt a hand run up his chest before grabbing his shirt and, with unnatural strength, ripping it from his body. Layton gasped as his body, hot as he felt, was exposed to the cold air of the maintenance tunnel. Before he could even react, he felt a pair of lips encircle his nipple.
Staring down, most of his vision was blocked by the flowery shawl the woman wore. At this distance, Layton could swear it was.. writhing. As if there was something alive under it. Fighting the brain fog, Layton reached a hand up to grasp it before it was slapped away and pinned to the wall behind him. His other hand soon joined it, pinned at waist height as the woman's ruby lips trailed down his body, deftly undoing the button on his jeans with her teeth before her hands left his wrists to pull his jeans and boxers down, exposing his throbbing cock to the cold air. It was uncomfortably hard, to the point his foreskin was pushed back to reveal the head, which was caked in pre-cum.
"Poor Darlin'!" The woman tutted, giving it a few slow, experimental strokes, to which it throbbed angrily again. "Seems like he's not had a lot of attention lately hm? Don't worry, Momma will take care of ya.."
At this she stood, seemingly taller than before, towering over Layton. She gripped his chin in her hands and mashed their lips together. She tasted sweet, sweeter than her voice sounded, but with a coppery, metallic undertaste that made the dusty cogs in Layton's overwhelmed head begin to turn, trying to remember what the taste reminded him of. Suddenly he realised why her lips were so red.
