Please note:
1 I hope that readers will understand that none of the characters or locations in this story are intended as stereotypes. I have simply invented random details for fun and to help make it more vivid.
2 This episode was originally intended as a brief introductory section to what happened after Ch 1, but my imagination ran away with me and it seemed a shame to condense it. Some folk will like this naughty smouldering but non-sizzling chapter but it won't appeal to all -- hopefully chapter 3 will have wider appeal. Please bear this in mind if posting comments!
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Mark felt both excited and nervous as he boarded the train with his forty-eight year old Auntie Pat, his mother's sister. He was eighteen (and a half!) years old, somewhat shy, and had not had many girlfriends. In fact apart from teenage gropes and fumbles, he could count on the fingers of both hands the number of times he had had sex before his sexy aunt had seduced him. She was visiting his parents, and his sexual experiences with her over the past ten days now outweighed his previous encounters put together.
Today she could have driven, but a car would not have suited her plans so well. She had shared her idea with him, a "story" which she invited him to help her to turn to reality. He had agreed, loving the sound of the fantasy that she wanted to act out, but feeling slightly nervous about it. She had laughed and told him that nervousness would add to the fun. She had also said that she loved fantasy and role-play, and that if he enjoyed this one she would share some others with him.
She had stressed that it was purely a fantasy, based on the experience of a friend of hers some years earlier who had done it for real. His aunt had become fascinated by it. As she had spoken to her friend, she had discreetly sought out details, how this or that part of things was worked out, and had watched -- and recorded -- a couple of television documentaries, too.
Today his aunt was dressed conservatively in a floral top (tight enough to show her small, high-mounted breasts, but cut high enough to show a few inches of skin below her neck but no cleavage) and a knee-length green skirt. Although of modest length, it was tight and stretched in alluring creases across her belly and thighs. It hugged her hips and shapely backside, and the split in its back revealed small, though tantalising, flashes of bare, pale thigh as she walked.
Under her skirt she had put on a brief pair of panties -- not too tiny, but scantier than a woman her age would normally wear. Their scantiness caused her bum cheeks to move sensually as she walked, and the teasing outline of her panties showed through her tight skirt. Her black court shoes were tall enough to emphasise the sway of her hips as she walked along.
It would take about an hour and a half for the train to reach their destination about eighty miles away - the nearest reasonably sized town where there was a decent range of shops. Shopping for a few clothes was the first -- and subsidiary -- part of her plan.
Equally importantly, it was far enough from his home (and three times as far from hers) to minimise their risk of being recognised. She had checked out for herself another important criterion a couple of days earlier.
They found two vacant seats on the train, though most seats in the carriage were taken. Once the train set off he struggled to make conversation, distracted by his excitement and nerves. In addition, he had to avoid looking too intently into her face, and to avoid looking at her breasts as well. It was possible that, still close to his home town, he might be recognised -- and suspicions aroused.
They made small talk for a while. He knew that she must be excited too, and marvelled at how relaxed she seemed as she browsed through the glossy gossip magazine she had bought. He glanced through the daily paper he had with him but found it hard to remain calm.
On her prior instruction he had not switched on his mobile phone that morning, but, also on her instruction, he did so about twenty minutes into the journey. He had an alert of three text messages. She was far from expert at texting, and each message was short. She had sent them before they set off to avoid them both obviously sending and receiving texts at the same time on the train. He made sure that his screen could not be seen, then opened his mailbox.
hi im hot n horny n tryin not to look at u. u hard?
cant w8 4 u to grope and suck my tits. awake half nite n had 2 play
cant w8 2 ride u young stud. thinking bout it rite now
He looked across at her, but she pretended not to notice. He pulled the newspaper he had bought over his rising erection.
After a while he pretended to doze off as his aunt browsed through her magazine. This had other advantages than preventing the need for small talk while so horny. With his eyes barely open he could check out the reflections of some of the other travellers.
Opposite was a busty student with a low-cut tee shirt. Further along was a mother with a young child. She leaned across to tend to her child a few times and although her skirt did not rise very high, it was worth having. He could also glance in the window nearest to him his aunt's reflection, her spectacled, slightly lined face, and her modest, but lovely, firm breasts. He glanced along the outline of her bra cups as they showed through her top.
From time to time he opened his eyes and chatted to her about her magazine. This also gave him better opportunities -- though he had to be careful -- to check out the reflection in the train window of the student and the young mother.
The whole situation made his stomach flutter like a child's. Here he was on a train with a mature woman heading out of town for sex. And not just sex; kinky, role-play sex. He was young and inexperienced, she was mature and VERY experienced. He wondered how many times she had experienced sex and how many partners she had been with over the years. He couldn't help wondering either, how far her boundaries lay.
The crowning glory of course was that she was his mother's sister. He felt a twinge of shame and remorse. While his parents were out at work, he had been secretly screwing his mother's sister in the house and was travelling with her for more of the same.
Then he reminded himself that, to be fair, the guilt lay mainly with his aunt. Although he had lusted after her -- and jacking off thinking about her -- she had made the first move, and, to be fair, he had initially resisted her advances more than many lads of his age would have.
Besides, the cloak-and-dagger routine, and even the guilt and shame were part of the thrill. They had to be careful when and where they did it so that they did not have to close and re-open curtains too much during the day. Fortunately his parents had some original watercolours in the lounge which they screened from the daytime sun with vertical blinds, and his dad also often left the blinds closed during the day in the spare room which he had converted to an office.
Then there was the conscious and determined effort involved in not looking at his aunt in a significant way while his parents were around, and the invented stories that he and she both contrived as to what they had been doing on a given day.
Today gave him a bigger buzz -- and a hard-on that was difficult to dispel. Their intentions were entirely unsuspected by their fellow passengers, who would be shocked and disgusted if they knew. And each interim station where the train stopped brought their destination and purpose closer, and heightened his excitement.
As they finally pulled into their station, his pulse quickened. They got off, and his aunt headed for the toilet, agreeing to meet him by the newspaper stand on the platform that backed onto the one where they had arrived.
The toilets were across the footbridge, on Platform 3. Mark remained where he was, and watched her walk towards the steps. He glanced at the slit in the back of her green skirt as the backs of her pale, bare lower thighs flashed sensually in and out of view. He glanced casually around. With a thrill he realised that he was not the only one who was looking at his sexy, forty-eight year old aunt.
A bloke in his thirties spotted the split in her skirt. He glanced furtively as she walked past him and ahead of him. So did a male student -- about his own age. A middle-aged businessman in a suit and with a briefcase also latched onto her as she went past him.
Mark watched the man speed up a little to keep pace with her. He was trying to appear casual, glancing around from time to time to avoid appearing to stare at the bum and legs of the woman in front of him. He ensured that he kept the same distance from her. He walked close enough to her to prevent anyone else stepping between them and robbing him of his view, yet far enough back to allow him to feast his eyes. His judicious distance enabled him not only to gaze at her shapely bum but also down at her slender thighs that the slit in her skirt revealed with each step she took.
The businessman followed her to the bottom of the steps, and Mark saw his gaze fix on her backside, no doubt admiring her round bum cheeks and the line of her brief panties through her tight green skirt. Mark felt a twinge in his groin as the man followed his aunt up the steps, his face just inches from her tempting bum, as they ascended the steps leading from the platform. He could imagine the poor bloke longing to reach out and slide his hand inside the slit of her skirt, or tracing his fingers along the outline of her saucy panties.
It was especially thrilling that his aunt, whom he had always considered to be conservative, was playing the minx, positively courting hungry looks from strangers -- and doing it under her nephew's eye.
Although the footbridge barrier reached just above waist height, he could still see the businessman's eyes fixed below her waist as she walked across. Mark watched him continue reluctantly to the exit, casting his gaze back at her one last time as she turned right and down the steps to the other platform.
His aunt feigned oblivion as she headed to the ladies' toilet and disappeared from view. She only emerged nearly twenty minutes later, as a train pulled into that platform. By then a good number of the passengers on the various platforms had dispersed and been replaced by others.
The train hid her from Mark's view at first, but then he saw her walking back towards the footbridge. With a thrill he noticed that she had removed her bra, and although her breasts were small, they jigged subtly and arousingly up and down as she walked. Again he spotted several men, of various ages leering at her.
The strap of her shoulder bag slipped. She made a sudden lurch to grab it and as she did so her carrier bag fell from her hand. She squatted on her haunches to retrieve it and a bloke in his forties went to her aid. She smiled innocently and gratefully, and he could see their lips moving in speech.
Mark knew, however, that she had staged the whole thing to lure some bloke or other close. Unsurprisingly the guy who had offered to help her was now eyeing her breasts, maybe looking for her nipples through her top. He also glanced discreetly but hungrily at the taut fabric of her skirt across her lap. Her legs were slightly parted, too. Her panties were kept hidden by the tightness and length of her skirt, but Mark -- and no doubt others -- could see the backs of her slender thighs where her skirt hung down vertically.
She straightened up and smiled again in thanks to the bloke who had helped her. Then she continued the rest of the way to the footbridge. Two blokes in their thirties who were walking behind her nudged each other and pointed at her. Although Mark's aunt was subtly but consciously flaunting herself to them, she pretended not to notice their interest.
A surge of desire and smugness flooded over Mark him, knowing that he would soon be having what they were lusting for. As she headed over the footbridge to rejoin him he walked slowly to the newspaper stall on the adjoining platform where they had arranged to meet.
From the moment she came to re-join him on this railway platform far from his home,, her behaviour was transformed.
