Train Encounter

I jumped onto the train just before it started to pull away from the platform and closed the door behind me. The sudden jolt of the train's departure caused me to stumble in the doorway but I soon regained my balance and stepped up the stairs and into the aisle. I took a look at my ticket and headed towards the back of the train towards the first-class carriages, hoping that I would be lucky enough to get an empty compartment for the long train journey ahead. After a short while I had made it to the back of the train and looked, once again, at my ticket. I walked up the aisle looking for the compartment I had been designated. Most of the compartments that I passed were occupied by only one or two people. I soon found my compartment and slid the door slowly open. It was occupied by only one person who smiled as I entered before returning to reading her book.

The compartment was like most first-class train compartments. It consisted of two sets of leather seats, each large enough for three passengers but designed for only two. These sets of seats faced each other and were book-ended by the sliding door at one end and by the window at the other. Above each set of seats there protruded from the wall a metal rack for holding baggage, I promptly threw my suitcase atop of the rack and sat down on the seat nearest the door (my fellow traveler being sat on the opposite bench at the side nearest the window).

Having sat down I too began to read a book. At first I found it easy to read through the pages of what was a good book, but I soon became too distracted to concentrate. Keeping up the façade of reading I began to take in the appearance of the woman who shared my carriage. She was an attractive woman who was perhaps in her early-to-mid thirties, about ten years my senior but still more attractive than most women my age. She had midnight-black hair and slightly tanned skin, her eyes were deep brown and her lips were full and luscious. Her slim and athletic body was perfectly framed by the clothes that she wore; a thin top through which a dark bra was almost visible accentuating her perfectly formed breasts. She wore a skirt made of similar light material, perhaps cotton, that was cut just above her knees allowing me to see down her beautiful slender leg towards her flawless feet that were clad in a pair of black flip-flops, the simplicity of which gave the whole ensemble an air of unpretentious elegance, the like of which is rarely seen on younger women.

Before long I noticed that my fellow traveler was shuffling around in her seat, apparently trying to get more comfortable. I looked up at her and we exchanged smiles, "These seats are so uncomfortable," she said, as she continued to shuffle around. I smiled again but decided not to say anything, dismissing the comment as nervous Smalltalk. I returned to my book but was still unable to concentrate; the silence was soon broken once again.

"Sorry," she said timidly "would it be alright with you if I was to rest my feet on your seat?" she was referring to the seat opposite her and next to me.

"That's not a problem," I assured her.

She leaned towards me, "Thank-you; by the way it's going to be a long trip so I'll introduce myself, I'm Karen," She said, extending a hand towards me.

I took her hand and shook it firmly, "I'm Peter, pleased to meet you," we smiled at each other once again.

She put her feet up on the seat and we both continued reading. I soon noticed that it was becoming harder for me to concentrate than when she was just sat opposite me. I had always had a bit of a weakness for pretty feet and having a pair of feet that were no less than perfect resting just off to my side I found concentrating on my book to be an impossible task. Every sentence I read would be interrupted by my unstoppable compulsion to steal a glance at her perfect feet. I was reading some sentences three or four times over without taking in what they said because I was so uncontrollably distracted by Karen's feet. I eventually managed to control my glances as a potentially embarrassing bulge started to form in my jeans, but still, every time her feet showed even the slightest movement I was compelled to admire them.

My staring was soon interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open. A man in a blue uniform stepped into the compartment. "May I see your tickets please?" he asked unenthusiastically. Karen instantly obliged handing him her ticket which she had kept secure amongst the pages of her book. I, on the other hand, had no such foresight and had left my ticket in my back pocket. Hoping that Karen and the ticket collector would be sufficiently distracted by each other to not notice the bulge in my pants I stood up quickly and removed the ticket from my back pocket before promptly sitting down again. The speed of my movement had momentarily caught Karen's attention and I hoped that she had not seen what I had so desperately tried to hide from her. My quick movement elicited no such reaction from the ticket collector who went about his business as though he was half asleep. He handed a ticket back to Karen and turned to me, "May I see your ticket please Sir?" he asked. I promptly handed it to him and, after a brief glance, it was returned to me with similar speed. The ticket collector turned around and left the compartment sliding the door closed behind him with a loud thud.

"I don't think he was even awake," remarked Karen of the ticket collector with a smile.

"I know what you mean," I agreed, "Mind you, it must be a boring job; I think I'd rather do it half asleep too." We both smiled gingerly at each other and returned to our reading.

As the train rattled on towards our eventual destination I started to think that Karen had noticed my glances towards her feet. Every now and then she would wiggle her toes or scratch the top of one foot with the other. Occasionally I would catch her looking at me with a smile on her face, I dismissed it as paranoia but tried to make a concerted effort to stop looking at her feet and concentrate on reading but despite all my attempts I was unable to control my glances.

Eventually the renewed silence was broken by the sound of Karen closing her book and placing it on the seat next to her. I continued to read but soon began to feel uneasy as it was becoming obvious that Karen was looking at me, a grin forming on her face. I looked up at her and she struggled to suppress a small giggle, I followed her lead and giggled back, more out of uneasiness than a genuine thought that something funny had just occurred. "Sorry." She said.

I put my book down and looked at her with a questioning look on my face.

"Would you mind if I asked you a personal question?" she asked. "You won't have to answer it, if you don't I'll say nothing more about it."

I was worried about what her question might be but I was taken in by her smile and gave a cautious answer. "There's no harm in asking."

She smiled happily at my answer but then began to blush a little as she started the question. "I can't believe I'm going to ask this," she said. "Do you... I mean... Are you fond...? No I can't, I can't."

"Please, I'm sure whatever it is won't be offensive," I immediately wondered why I was insisting that she ask a question that was clearly going to be personal, but as before I found her smile and her persona to be endearing and I felt as though whatever she said it couldn't possibly something that I'd dislike or disagree with.

She took a deep breath. "Okay... I've noticed- and it may be just my imagination- that you keep glancing towards... towards my feet," She almost winced upon finally completing the sentence. "Are you... Do you have a fondness for feet?" she smiled widely but practically closed her eyes as if expecting some tirade of abuse.

I blushed, but felt as though I should be honest and so I answered truthfully. "I suppose, I do have a... soft spot... for pretty feet, and I happen to think that your feet are especially pretty." My face was burning; my ears must have been bright red.

"No, no, don't be embarrassed, I admire your honesty, to tell you the truth I suspected as much, and I'm flattered, really, besides I don't see anything wrong with it, to tell you the truth I like it when men can appreciate more of me than just the usual 'tits and ass,' excuse my language." She smiled coyly.

"I'm sorry if I've been staring." I said. "Just I found it very hard not to."

"Don't worry about it. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty." I replied

"You see, I'm thirty-two, hardly old but to have a man twelve years my junior so distracted by some aspect of my appearance that they are unable to concentrate, well, it helps make me feel young."

"Well, it's not just your feet," I said, perhaps trying my luck, "You are a very attractive woman, any man would be lucky to have you."

"What exactly do you mean by 'have you?'?" She said with a cold look on her face.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean..." My eyes widened in protestation.

"I'm just kidding." She assured me, her tender smile reappearing. "Your face was a picture though, that was cruel of me, I'll make it up to you later, I'll buy you a few drinks when they do the dinner service." I tried to tell her that it was not necessary. "Ah ah ah, don't argue, I'll be offended if you try to get out of it." She smiled.

"Thank-you" I said shyly.

"But while we wait perhaps you can do something for me..." A grim formed on her face. "I've been on my feet for most of the day, and as you've taken a special interest in them I wonder if you would mind giving me a massage? You can refuse, but I'm sure you will get as much out of it as I know I will."

I hesitated for a second trying to hide my eagerness. "I think I could manage that." I said with a smile forming on my face.

"That's the answer I was hoping for." She said grinning.

She lifted her feet off the chair and slid along in her seat until she was directly opposite me. Kicking off her flip-flops she rested her feet on the chair between my legs. "Which do you fancy doing first?" she asked. "Left or Right?" she wiggled the toes on each one as she asked my preference.

"I think I'll start with the right one." I said, gripping it in my hands.

With the top of her foot resting in the palm of my hands I began to softly rub my thumbs up its sole. She fidgeted in her chair and giggled slightly. "Ticklish are we?" I asked playfully before slowly brushing my fingers lightly over the sole, causing her to twitch even more. "Okay, Okay, I'm ticklish, play nice." She said with a pout on her lips. I smiled at her and continued with massaging the sole of her foot with my thumbs, this time making sure to apply more pressure to avoid her giggling again. As I rubbed from the heel up to the balls of her feet she tipped her head back in order to relax, in doing so she shifted forward in her seat and her left foot moved closer towards me now resting a hairs-breadth away from my crotch. With her eyes closed Karen failed to notice this and sighed deeply whilst I continued my massage. I pushed several deeper thumb strokes up the beautiful sole of her perfect foot before moving them down towards the heel which I massaged in a circular motion occasionally finishing each deep stroke of my thumb with an equally deep push up her sole towards the balls of her feet.

Changing my grip so that I held the upper part of her foot in my hands I was able to massage the balls of her feet with ease and my doing so elicited a soft, barely audible, moan from Karen's full, moist lips. Continuing this motion for some time I noticed Karen's breathing becoming more labored and rather that continue gratifying her I decided that I would tease her a bit and move away from the balls of her feet and onto the toes themselves. Each toe was as perfect as the next and each deserved to be massaged individually. I wasted no time in stroking each of her toes gently with my thumbs, starting at her big toe and moving down her foot to her little toe. When I had finished with this task I began to rub the gaps between the toes and although sometimes causing Karen to flinch in a ticklish manner I was able to keep this up for some time before moving onto the top of the foot which I was able to massage more gently than the soles as the top of her feet were less sensitive. Rather than the massage being done predominantly by my thumbs I moved to allow both of my hands to massage her foot. I rubbed my hands strongly up and down both sides of her feet and around her heel allowing my to rub her ankle and the lower part of the calf as well. As the massage continued so did the labored breathing. The sensation of the massage was clearly having an effect upon Karen and the satisfaction that I received was apparent by the increasing size of the bulge in my jeans which was growing significantly, aided by the close proximity of Karen's left foot to my crotch.

I put her foot down and rested it on the chair. "Was that alright?" I asked.

She tipped her head forward and opened her eyes slowly, "that was more than alright, you're really good, have you had a lot of practice?"

"Not as much as I'd like, but then I don't think it's possible that I could ever have enough of massaging feet as perfect as yours."

"You're such a sweetie, and I'll tell you what, with a massage as good as that I'd say that my feet are all your until we arrive, I'm not kidding, it was fantastic."

"Shall I start on the left one then?" I asked, slightly embarrassed by her flattery.

"In a second," she replied, "hold on." She stood up and stepped towards the door. Raising her hands above her head she closed the curtains so that passers by would not be able to see into the compartment. "I have a treat for you," she said as she sat back down and placed her feet back on the seat before my crotch. "I am right in assuming you got almost as much pleasure giving that massage than I got receiving it, no?"

"Well yeah, that is so long as I didn't enjoy it more than you."

"Trust me, that's not possible," she retorted. "Anyway, now that we have a little privacy," she nodded towards the curtains, "I was thinking that perhaps you may like to give my left foot a little extra attention, rather than just massage it perhaps you could... I don't really know how to say this... perhaps you could also kiss away some of those aches and strains, rather than just rub them away." She smiled widely awaiting my response.

Rather than speak my response I decided to show her it. I raised her left foot towards my face, gripping it tightly in both hands. I held it less than a centimeter away from my face, making Karen suffer the anticipation of what I would do next. I could see that the feel of my hot breath slowly playing on her sole was beginning to agitate her; she wanted me to kiss her foot almost as desperately as I did. Rather than gratify satisfy what we both desired I waited longer. I took in the gentle perfume that was only detectable at this proximity. As her foot twitched with anticipation my erection grew even further and I could soon take it no longer. At just the right moment I leant slowly towards her waiting sole and planted one soft kiss on the ball of her foot. The timing was perfect, neither of us could have stood to wait another second more. I slowly followed my first kiss with several others from the ball of her foot down her sole to her heel and then back up to her toes, which I kissed individually.

With each kiss I planted on her foot she twitched in approval, I was starting to wonder if her enjoyment of this experience was equal to mine, it certainly seemed to be. I tilted my head slightly and dragged a long, wet kiss around the side of her foot, she had an even greater reaction to this and I soon followed it up with a long lick up her foot from her heel to her toes. It was at this point, as I continued my attentions to her foot, that I noticed her right foot rubbing the bulge through my jeans. She moved it mirroring my actions, when I licked hard, she pushed hard, when I was gentle so too was she. My erection had soon grown and as she continued rubbing with her foot I began to find it hard to concentrate. Every now and then she would rub me in such a way that I would twitch in pleasure and almost completely lose my composure.

"Stand up." She said before long. She moved her feet away from me and placed them on the floor of the carriage whilst at the same time leaning forwards. I obeyed her order and stood before her. "You have been good to me today, I'm going to return the favour." She said as she undid the buckle on my belt followed by the button, and then the zipper, of my jeans. The jeans fell in a heap around my ankles and the outline of my rock-hard erection was clearly visible through my boxer shorts. Karen wasted no time and unbuttoned my shirt allowing it to hang loosely around my shoulders, then she put her hands on my waistband, and biting her lip in anticipation she removed my boxers, allowing them to slide down and join my jeans.

"Sit down and lean back." She said. I was in no state to argue, and I didn't want to argue if I could. I instantly followed her order and sat back down on the seat, my naked buttocks making contact with the cold leather. I looked towards Karen to see what she would do next. It was not long before I found out. Returning to her original position she lifted her legs towards my crotch and placed a foot on the inside of each of my thighs. Leaving her right foot where it was she pointed the toes of her left foot and ever-so-gently stroked it down my cock from the head to its base, dragging with it a small trickle of pre-cum that had formed at its tip. The feeling was more amazing than words can describe, I had never received a foot job before and decided simply to close my eyes and make the most of my first.

The first stroke of her foot was soon followed by more gentle strokes from both of her feet. With her left foot she continued to stroke my hard shaft and with the right she stroked my testicles. The feeling was sensational but it was nothing compared with what was to come. She moved both of her feet away from my crotch momentarily before grasping my cock firmly between the soles of her feet. It took her a few seconds to get used to the position but before long she had accustomed herself to it and began to move both of her feet up and down on my cock in unison. It wasn't long before I was close to climax and I knew by the look on Karen's eye that she realized this too. She swiftly readjusted herself on her seat and changed the position of her feet. She bent her right leg so that her foot now rested on my stomach with the sole touching the back of my penis. Her other foot she placed on my cock so that the heel sat just above my testicles and the toes touched the head of my cock.

She rubbed the top foot over the head of my penis perhaps three or four times before it was too much and I ejaculated uncontrollably. My orgasm lasted some time as Karen didn't stop stimulating my penis throughout the orgasm. By the time I had finished my breath was labored, I was covered in a light sweat and I had cum on my stomach and my chest as well as having sprayed my load all over Karen's feet. Karen began in earnest to clear up the mess my cum had made, most of it she fed into her mouth with her finger, making the whole process as erotic as she could, the rest had to be mopped up with a tissue. When we were both fully cleaned up she put her flip-flops back on and just sat, staring, with a wide smile across her face. I smiled back at her; she had given me the best experience of my life. As I stood up to put my jeans back on I noticed that her stare was focused intently on my cock, with the buttoning of my jeans she looked at me with a mock sulk on her face, it had been the first time anyone had given me a foot job, but it was to be a long journey and I felt sure that it would not be my last.