It's past midnight; the rain is pouring down; the last train to Märsta creeps through the shunting yards somewhere just north of Stockholm Central. The number of drunken people, staggering about, are at its peak. They are screaming to each others while trying to have a conversation.
Alex stares out the window, somewhere in the twilight between being in a dull trance and starting to fall asleep for real. In a contrary to all the other people on the train, he hasn't been out drinking and partying, he's actually had an all-nighter trying to complete his latest project. As things stand now, he will have to get back in tomorrow.
He feels cold, controlled satisfaction. At least he will get a fat bonus for doing the extra hours. Sadly enough nothing extra for doing them in the middle of the night, he doesn't have penalty rates for night work. He gets angry again. If it had been his fault the project required this many extra hours in the middle of the night...
His line of thought is broken when someone sits opposite to him. At first he only notices something red before his mind returns to the unfairness of him working on a Friday night, but when a foot is lodged between his leg and the wall he looks up.
She is blond, has clear green eyes, a face somewhere between pretty and gorgeous, and she is wearing a red coat and pantyhose. Alex sighs inwardly. She is forcing him to place his feet and legs at an awkward angle. Her legs are crossed and the foot of the top leg are extended well past the line-in-the-middle.
Alex hates having his private space invaded by knees, elbows or feet, but he decides to keep his cool. He glances at her again. She is probably more gorgeous than just pretty. Her skin has a few blemishes that takes away from her beauty but part from that she's a hottie.
He decides to turn on the mp3-player on his mobile. The noise level in the train is reaching levels where he can't even hear himself think. As he fiddles with the mobile he notices the girl's chest is heaving quickly in and out. She is not taking deep breaths, but she is breathing quickly, almost panting. He looks up again. Did her eyes dart away from him? Probably not.
He puts the earplugs in place and starts the player, shutting the noise out. He sighs and reaches into his bag, hesitating between an old copy of Times Magazine and Digital Photography Magazine. He decides to have a look at the latter.
He starts reading an article about composing sunset pictures. His hips and knees are aching from the awkward position his legs are forced into. He looks down and notices just how far into his zone her foot is and he decides to put his foot down almost where he'd want it, centimeters from trapping her foot against the side of the train car.
He manages to read another paragraph when her foot moves. He looks up and she smiles at him with an apologetic expression on her face. He removes the earplugs.
"Sorry," she says.
But her foot remains. His mind is actually reeling at the audacity of this damned woman. He sighs and puts the earplugs back. Just as he is about to start on the article again his eyes fall beyond the magazine page and he realizes he cannot spot anything but her red coat and pantyhose. No skirt.
For a moment he has the wild idea that she is naked under the coat. Or, he thinks, the pantyhose ... perhaps it's thigh-high stockings ... held up by a garter and garter belt. He feels himself getting hard, a tingling sensation spreading through his body. And maybe a black lace bra too ... but no panties.
He has to readjust his clothing or his hard-on will show. He tells himself she probably has something under the coat, and keeps reading. Soon his member has gone soft again.
Just as he thinks he's safe her foot caress against his leg. This time it is an obvious caress. He decides to play it cool and removes his earplugs once more.
"Don't you hate these endless train trips?" she says, as if they had been on speaking terms the whole night.
He nods. "Uh, yeah." Not sure what to say, or actually void of any meaningful line of conversation, he's never had a girl, at least not one this sexy, speak to him on the train before.
"And you can't smoke either," she says.
He nods, but since he's no smoker he has little to offer on that subject as well.
"Not that anyone would care, this train is deserted after Rotebro anyway."
Rotebro is the halfway point between Stockholm and Märsta; even though it's only two stops between Rotebro and Märsta, half the trip is spent on that distance.
"Yeah, it gets pretty deserted," Alex says, "at least this late."
The conversation dies out. Or at least Alex thinks it has. He shrugs, repeating the mantra he always use when things don't go his way; "You do as best as you can."
He keeps reading the magazine, still in the awkward position, waiting for, hoping for her to leave. That is, until he remembers her talk about the deserted train after Rotebro. He moans inwardly, she will be on the train for most of the trip. He sighs. So what? She's hot, and her foot is almost against his calf. If she would move it some 30-40 centimeters up and forwards she would have it placed against his crotch. He shivers and his cock starts getting hard again.
After a few deep breaths and the earplugs back in his ears, he calms down. Just as he has gotten into the magazine again her foot moves. He removes the earplugs, this time slightly annoyed.
She leans close to him. Whispering. "Wanna know a secret?"
She looks around. They have just passed Sollentuna, so the train is only half full, but what she does next is still a crazy bold move. She starts unbuttoning the coat at the neck, revealing a slender neck and a slightly bony chest. Once she unbuttons the third of the five buttons Alex can clearly see her full bust is held in place by nothing else than its own firmness. She has no T-shirt, blouse or bra.
His cock turns fully erect, but he hardly notices. Is she is naked under the coat? Fuck! She is almost flashing him.
She leans forward, her breasts threatening to spill out of the opening of the coat. "I get so fucking bored on these trips," she says.
"Uh!" he says, unable to form a single coherent thought.
She leans back, buttoning the coat back up, a Cheshire Cat grin on her lips. He drops his eyes. He intends to break the almost physical eye contact with her but when his eyes lock on the dark opening where the top of her thighs disappear under her coat she drops her hands to the hem of the coat and lifts it, offering him a clear line of sight all the way to her crotch. The short moment the glance lasts Alex is able to determine that she is, unfortunately, wearing pantyhose and not high stockings with garters.
She smiles. The train leaves Norrviken, the last stop before Rotebro. He looks around. There's only about ten or so people left in the car. Will everyone leave at Rotebro? His cock regains its hardness just by the thought. He licks his lips.
"I need some excitement before I start banging my head to the wall," she says.
He looks around once more. She grins.
"I see," he says. His voice is so steady it feels like someone else has spoken instead of him.
She scoots down on the seat, this time firmly lodging her leg between his leg and the car wall. She leans closer to him, takes his hands and places them on her thighs. The warm, smooth sensation makes his body hum with itching energy.
She leans even closer to him and for a moment he thinks she might kiss him, but she presses her lips to his ear instead: "slide your hands as high up as you dare..."
He digs his fingers into her thighs, almost wanting to pull her to him, or push his hands all the way up, but he controls himself.
The train stops in Rotebro and everybody but a couple leaves their car. The girl sighs and looks at Alex who licks his lips again.
She leans into the middle aisle peering along it through the door to the other car connected with this one. As she does she points her ass at him, revealing she is panty-less. He can clearly see the round swell of her sex through the sheer fabric of the pantyhose and before he stops and thinks he reaches out and caresses one of her buttocks.
She snaps around staring at him, a smile slowly forming. She straddles him, one knee at each side of his lap. "Perhaps..." she says, unbuttoning her coat at the bottom, leaving two buttons at the top. "Perhaps this could get really exciting."
She grinds into him, jolts of pleasure emanating from the point of contact. He is spellbound by the touch of her body, his hands almost action at their own volition as he squeezes her butt, slides his palms around to her front, strokes her firm belly until he can cup a breast in each hand. She shudders visibly, her gaze, behind heavy eyelids, locked into his.
He glances at the couple who are sitting face to face, holding hands, lovingly pecking at each other's lips.
"I need some fun," she says and starts working on his fly.
"Shit," he gasps, as she pulls his shaft free from his clothes. "Someone can see!"
"Then," she says, struggling to her feet, squatting over him, "let's make sure we hide him properly."
"What are you doing?" he says when she starts pushing her pantyhose down.
"They're gonna... !"
Once she has the pantyhose by the hollow of her knees she presses herself against him, and regardless of what he was about to say, he hitches his hips up towards her, their sexes meshing together in a way that neither can resist.
"Fuck it," she groans.
.... There is more of this story ...