The Back Row of the Train

It was a long day of traveling; first two hours on the bus, then a four-hour train ride. Not too bad at first; I brought some snacks and had lots of books and podcasts loaded onto my phone to pass the time. But by the middle of the second part of the trip, I had listened to the podcasts I really wanted to hear and was too restless to start a whole new book. I decided to switch over to Literotica for awhile. I had a couple of stories that people had sent me to edit, and thought it would be as entertaining a way as any to enjoy the ride. I was in the back row, and there wasn't anyone sitting next to me, so I didn't have to worry about anyone reading over my shoulder. The story I did first was nice and spicy, with lots of descriptions of stroking and licking and sucking. I had been away from home for a few days, so it didn't take much to get me a little aroused. I got that feeling that I love, heart beating a little faster, breathing getting a little shallower, and that feeling between my legs that is hard to put into words. It feels almost like I can feel my blood pulsing all the way down to the tip of my clit. I rubbed my legs together slightly to intensify the sensation.

I was in way too public a place to do anything more, so I decided I would have a little fun with one of my longtime favorite fantasies, a stranger on a train. I closed my eyes and got comfortable, and started imagining. I imagined someone sitting in the seat next to me. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. I concentrated on the feeling of his thigh pressed up against mine, the warmth noticeable through his pants and my skirt. He smelled like summer- soap and suntan lotion and just faintly of some sort of alcohol that I couldn't identify. I sat like that for a few minutes, trying to will him to touch me. Finally, I felt a tiny touch, somewhere between tickling and stroking, just one or two fingers, just above my knee. I tried not to react; I thought he would stop if he realized that I was awake and aware of what he was doing. The fingers creeped upward on my thigh, then withdrew suddenly. Disappointed, I was going to open my eyes, but a minute later felt something new, fingers on my bare calf, slipping upward again but this time under my skirt. The same couple of fingers moving tentatively up my thigh, driving me crazy with his slow pace.

Finally, I felt a finger maneuver inside the elastic of my panties and rest there. It would have been easy for him to feel how wet I had gotten by then. He started stroking me with tiny little movements, and finally inserted one finger, then two, inside me. I couldn't help it, I moaned; I almost exploded right then and there. He moved his fingers in and out; I could feel and hear the suction pulling his fingers deeper inside. He managed to keep doing it and use one more finger, or maybe it was his thumb, to rub my clit at the same time. The combination of the physical intensity, and the public location, and the faceless stranger involved, set me off and I moaned again, louder than before. The fingers pulled back as he realized that I was awake after all. In a frenzy, I put my hand on his and pulled him back to me. Now that he knew I was willing, the rules of the game changed. He started finger-fucking me more forcefully and rubbing harder with his thumb. I had been teetering on the brink of climax for so long that I was more than ready. A few more seconds and I came, pushing myself hard against his hand for a few more beats, gripping the armrests and arching my back against the seat

I decided it was time for me to return the favor. I moved my hand over to his lap. I didn't need to open my eyes to find the huge bulge waiting there for me. I tugged his zipper down a little at a time, then reached into his underwear and freed his cock, rigid in my hand. Now it was his chance to moan. The bit of slippery liquid that had collected at the tip was perfect. There was just the right amount of friction as I moved my hand up and down his shaft. I felt him thrusting with his hips and heard the mix of gasps and moans that meant he was getting close to orgasm. I kept up the steady rhythm; I rubbed the head of his cock with my fingers to spread around more of the fluid that was oozing out. A couple of bigger, stronger thrusts, a louder moan, and I felt him coming all over my hand. He shuddered a few last times and was still. I still hadn't opened my eyes the entire time. After a minute I heard him putting himself back together. I hope he had a napkin or handkerchief or something to wipe himself clean. There was the noise of zipping and tucking and then I felt him squeezing my thigh as he stood up and left. I don't know if his stop was coming up, or if he just wanted to change seats now that we were finished. I'll never know. I'll never be able to find him again, but maybe, if I ride the train from time to time, he'll find me.