Andy stared out of the window. Scenery whizzed past: trees, grass, bushes; bridges, houses, industrial sites. Occasionally the view would open up to reveal a wider space -- fields or a faraway housing estate, perhaps -- where everything would appear to move more slowly. He barely noticed it, he was zoned out -- lost in his own thoughts and lulled by the 'clickety-clack, clickety-clack' of the rails. It was just another journey home, the commuter train full of bored workers leaving their boring jobs behind for another day. Most were lost in their own thoughts, papers, phones or ipads as they whiled away the forced downtime.
At least this time a cute girl had decided to sit opposite him; moreover, she had a generous amount of generous cleavage on display. And it was facing his way! Andy had spotted her as she got on the train, following her with his eyes as she walked down the aisle, sitting eventually in the seat opposite. She was not a small woman it had to be said: fairly tall, but not overly so, and bountifully curvy, though not to the point of being fat. She was wearing a short-ish skirt that showed off some very well shaped leg, and had had to bend just enough in front of him as she put her bag away to reveal the most lovely, heart-shaped bottom. It was just as well he was sitting at one of the little tables, because that sight had caused him to develop more than just the beginnings of an erection. That same table, though, then served to block his view of her legs once she finished with her luggage and sat down. Still: there was a good bit of breast on display. He settled in for a nice bit of ogling to while away the rest of the journey.
Unfortunately, staring at a girl's cleavage full time is a good way to earn a slap in the face, or perhaps even get thrown off a train, so Andy forced himself to look away most of the time, stealing surreptitious glances whenever he felt he could get away with it. As it happened, he wasn't being quite as surreptitious as he had thought: he turned his head to steal a glance and found her looking directly at him. Far from the scowl or look of derision (or slap) he had expected, she was smiling. A sly, knowing smile.
As Andy watched, pinned in place by her gaze, she began to move subtly in her seat. He couldn't see precisely what she was doing -- something with her legs below the table -- but he could tell she was doing something from the other tiny movements the rest of her muscles had to make to remain still. It was when she closed her eyes, almost involuntarily, that he figured out what was going on. The look on her face accompanying that moment was one of pleasure -- sexual pleasure. Holy shit! She was masturbating! She was masturbating using only her thighs and she was doing it in a crowded train while he was watching.
Andy took a quick look round -- he couldn't help it. No one else had noticed, or at least no one else was letting on that they had noticed, which was good enough for him. He looked back at her excitedly. He was pretty sure the rest of his journey home was not going to be as boring as usual.
As Andy watched, Miss Generous Cleavage slowly mashed her thighs together. She kept her gaze fixed upon him, as he did upon her. He could see the twitches in her face, the lust in her eyes as she built her pleasure. Her face dared him to watch and he did, unflinching -- even blinks performed sparingly and grudgingly. She fed from his gaze, excited by the attention, inspired to God knows what internal exhibitionist fantasies. He lost track of time and the world around him as he watched her arousal build. Surely she wouldn't be able to go all the way that way would she? He was pretty sure that shouldn't be possible. Could it be? It was not the sort of thing he had asked his female friends ('Hi, could you tell me just how easy it is to fuck yourself whilst sitting still?'), but surely there just wasn't enough stimulation from thighs alone.
Evidently, for Bountiful Breasts at least, this wasn't a problem. As Andy watched in intimate detail, her eyes fluttered and rolled back, her mouth twitched and her body stiffened as she came. She struggled to remain silent and still while her orgasm washed over her. It looked fairly powerful too. He was impressed. Impressed and horny. Bloody hell, had that just happened? Fuck he was horny!
Orgasmic Woman slouched back, sighed and opened her eyes, staring at him with a goofy smile. She looked flushed. Belatedly Andy remembered the rest of the passengers. He took another look around: everything looked OK, though he didn't know how they could possibly have missed that! When he looked back, his erstwhile partner in stealthy eroticism looked like she had come to a decision: she reached into her handbag and pulled out a small notebook and pen. She wrote something, tore out the page and gave it to him. It read:
Not nearly satisfying enough! Get off at the next stop.
Andy stared at the note. He looked back up at the girl -- the Sensitive Girl. She was looking at him with a mix of post orgasmic serenity, amusement and a kind of playful lust. Her eyes watched him and asked what he was going to do next. He was asking himself the same question. This was so far out of his comfort zone he didn't know where to begin.
Andy could see Sensitive Girl grow nervous, biting her lip unconsciously (and cutely) as she watched him waver. He knew she was sticking her neck out more than him, that she had made the move to invite him, but still he hesitated. Bloody Hell, a gorgeous girl who had just made herself cum in front of him was inviting him to do God knew what with her: what the fuck was wrong with him?
Just then the slightly stilted but still pleasant voice of the automated announcer rang out: the next stop. Still looking at Andy, Sensitive Girl rose from her seat. Then, not quite hiding a disappointed look, she turned her back and made her way down the aisle to the door, squeezing her voluptuous, sensitive and aroused body past several presumably unsuspecting passengers on the way. Andy watched her movements in minute detail, growing more and more restlessly aroused with every drawn out, flesh rubbing passing, but still unable to act. Fuck!
The train stopped and, after the usual infuriating pause, the doors unlocked. The crowd at the door began to pour forth from the train. Sensitive Girl threw him one last forlorn look and then stepped out with them.
It was as the other crowd, the one waiting on the platform, started to pour in that Andy moved. Fuck it! People always said that you should grab opportunities; that if you didn't, you'd regret it later. Usually, perhaps, they weren't talking about following a stranger off a train in the hope of a good fuck, but if ever there was a moment to regret seizing: this was it.
Decision made, Andy shot up from his seat. Maybe not the best move. Fuck! That hurt! His shin had banged on the table leg. He grabbed his coat and limped as fast as he could along the aisle, squeezing past the same travellers as Sensitive Girl had passed moments ago but with considerably less grace and a complete lack of sensuality. He fought through the incoming crowd moving the other way, finding their seats. 'Excuse me's and 'pardon me's and 'sorry's were thrown out, abandoned and cast away behind him as he forged on. He had to get to the doors before they closed.
beep beep beep beep
The rapid beeping signalled the imminent closure of the doors. Andy dove the last few metres and blocked their closure with his arm. He looked up, half in and half out of the train to see the guard, watching with obvious reproach. Sheepishly, and somewhat flustered, Andy clawed the door open and climbed down to the platform, hurrying past the guard to run after the still visible form of Sensitive Girl. He shouted after her as he ran.
He didn't want to call her out as 'Sensitive Girl', but he was just about to resort to that when she stopped and turned. When she saw Andy she smiled. Andy could see it despite the distance between them and it buoyed him. Something within him forever doubted his own attractiveness. He kept running until he was at her side.
"I..." Andy began, his chest heaving and his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Sensitive Girl raised her finger and put it on his lips. Andy stopped talking and concentrated on breathing. When he no longer needed to double over, he started again.
This time, Sensitive Girl had her finger on his lips before he even started. She smiled impishly, took his hand and, with a tilt of her head and a tug, indicated which way they should go.
Sensitive Girl's pace was quick and her demeanour excited as she pulled Andy along through the streets. Across crossings and down streets; past a pub and over a bridge. It was all a blur. He let her guide him as the wind carries a leaf and he followed her meanderings without thought. Well perhaps not without thought. He watched her as she led: he watched her legs as they stretched out from her short skirt; he watched her bum ripple under the tightness of it; occasionally, as she turned, he watched her magnificent tits bounce under her blouse; but mostly he watched her excitement. She was excited and happy to be with him and he was excited and happy about that.
The journey ended at a door. The door to an ordinary house in an ordinary street. Not that Andy would have noticed if it were shaped like an elephant. Sensitive Girl fished for her keys, bubbling over with excitement and presumably (hopefully!) lust. At last the door was opened and Sensitive Girl dragged Andy through.
.... There is more of this story ...