Another Day. Another Stranger

Sometimes, even though it's more expensive, I take the train to work. As usual with Southern, it's packed to the doors. Never enough carriages, never enough seats, but as I'll be sitting down for the next 12 hours, it doesn't matter much I guess. I take a quick glance around me hoping against hope that a hunky young guy will be squished up against me, but no luck. I am surrounded by women. The girl behind me is cute. She looks to be in her early 20s I'd say, with the widest bluest eyes I've ever seen. She has a very interesting face too...somewhere between 'innocent schoolgirl' and 'cum fuck me now'. I wonder if she has a boyfriend, or if she masturbates. Damnit. Why am I so ducking horny all the time lately? I can already feel dampness and it's going to be a long fucking day. My mind. And my clit, however, won't be silenced. I glance over my shoulder again. This time, we lock eyes for a second, and I smile. She smiles back. The train bumps a little, and I use the opportunity to press my ass back against her. I can feel the back,of her hand. I wonder if she is using me as a shield,to touch herself? Oh stop it! Of course she isn't! She just happens to have her hand in front of her, that's all. Then, I feel her knuckles moving. Regularly. Fuck! She IS using me to hide the fact that she's rubbing herself. Cheeky little bitch! I reach around myself, intent on making her stop. (Yes, I know. I can be a jealous both at times). Sure enough, she moves her hand, but only t gold mine and press it between her legs. Hell, why not? I bunch my hand into a fist so my knuckles will rub against her clit if that's what she wants. After all, there's a skit, panties and tights between me and it. That's when I feel,her skirt bing pulled up. Not far, just enough to make me feel the nylon of her tights. I open my hand and try to feel the line of her knickers, but I can't. Either I'm just not able to, or she's not wearing any. Back to the fist. She has risen up a little onto her toes I guess because my knuckles have slipped further between her legs. I also feel them getting very wet. Shit! The little,cunt isn't wearing knickers...I'm sure of it. My own cunt is weeping with frustration. I feel her hand fiddling around. What the fuck is she doing? Ahh! NOW I know! She's tugged her tights down as the front. I decide this isn't going to work like this. I turn around. We are jammed to tight, we are face to face. We could even kiss. But at least this way, I can curl my fingers between her legs and....yes....I can even get one, no two fingers inside her. And what's this? Something rock solid near, no, IN her clit? She's got a clit piercing. How I would LOVE one of those! And not just for the way it looks and feels. I'd like the pain of having it done too! Oh her face! She looks like a young teenager having her first orgasm! I feel her hand searching up my skirt now. (And to think! I damn near wore trousers today!) I'm not wearing tights. Just a very wet pair of knickers which she has worked her finger between the elastic and my leg and has now...ohhhhh.....got it inside me. We stand like that, our fingers inside each other, letting the motion of the train do the work. I see her nostrils flare, and her pupils dilate. Colour is flooding across her chest and up her neck. That's when I feel a series of regular contractions deep inside her. They seem to last forever, before they fade. I'm not that far off myself. I pull my finger out of her and look into her eyes as I bring that finger to my face. I breath her in and then I taste her. Except amidst the taste of her, is the unmistakable taste of sperm. The little cunt has been fucked this morning! That sends me over. I lick her and her boyfriends cum off my fingers as I cum on hers. She feels my contractions and stabs into me hard with each one. So hard that I almost pee my panties. When we pile off the train at Gatwick, she mumbles a 'thanks...it's been a while,since I've done anything with a girl.' I decide that I want more, and offer to lick her out in a toilet, but she shakes her head. "Maybe another time." Perhaps she's embarrassed that she is full of sperm? I wouldn't mind in the least. A naughty thought zaps across my mind. Whose sperm is it? Her boyfriends? Her brothers? Her dads? (Now STOP it, Jayne, this is no way for you to behave!) I have to go to the toilet myself though, and rub out another couple,of orgasms before I'm calm enough to fly today. Packed trains have their advantages. They're costly, uncomfortable, smelly. But they give good orgasms.