I really struggled to find a parking space, so much so that it almost made me late for my train. I grabbed a couple of magazines off the newspaper stall as I ran past and threw the money towards the vendor, yelling, ‘Keep the change.’ Well, you do that, don’t you, just hoping that you had thrown just enough and not too much.
The train was already standing at the platform. It seemed quite full, but there again, a train to London is always going to be. I was glad I had booked a seat. After walking nearly the length of the train, I lifted my case into the rack above and slumped into my seat.
I was panting; god, I used to be fit, I thought to myself. I looked down at my two magazines, ‘When Saturday Comes’, a football magazine, and the other, ‘True Life Stories’. The front-page headline was ‘Sex with a complete stranger. Readers’ stories.’ I gasped as I read the headline. I had been so delayed getting into the car park and finding a space. Such a shame because I would have liked more time to choose a better magazine. I looked at my watch – seven minutes to departure; the train wasn’t yet moving. Perhaps I did have more time after all. I rose from my seat and took off my raincoat, folded it and placed it on my case in the rack above.
I was at a table of four seats; the other three were empty but all had reserved tickets on them. I opened the magazine and turned to the ‘sex with a complete stranger’ article. It held my attention. It seems that there was a twenty-something who got fingered by a complete stranger in a clothes shop changing room.
The stranger apparently pushed through the dividing curtain while the twenty-something was trying on a pair of shorts and pushed her against the wall. Before she had chance to say anything, while struggling for balance, the stranger’s fingers had navigated the crotch of her panties and were delving into her private parts. I shut it quickly and reached for my football one.
The doors at the end of the carriage opened, and another three people got on. A young couple slipped into the first 2 seats, and then an older lady struggled down the carriage with her case. I noticed her immediately; she was quite a looker, but she was in a complete fluster. She was holding her ticket in her left hand and her case in the other hand. I got up.
“Are you lost?” I asked.
“Oh, my,” she replied, “the car park was a nightmare.”
“I thought the same; I drove round for ages,” I said. “What is your seat number?”
“C1”, she smiled.
“I think you’re on the same table as me,” I said, pointing at the table just beside me.
She gave me the biggest smile. “Yes, here we are.” I lifted her case above her head and put it next to mine on the rack.
“What about your coat?”
“Oh, yes, please,” she said.
Goodness, she is more attractive than I first thought, extremely pretty, with long blonde wavy hair and her breasts a nice size pushing against the thin fabric of her silk blouse. The outline of her bra was clearly visible, half cut, a hint of cleavage on show. A thin open cardigan, a nice skirt, which looked like it wrapped around, and a lot of leg on display, and those heels. So classy, I wondered where she was going, maybe a date, but for now, I thought, I’m in the driving seat.
I guessed her to be around my age, but certainly she looked younger. Her eyes just shone as I continued to look into her eyes, as she did into mine.
I gave her a big smile, and she smiled back.
“Hello, I’m Keith,” I said.
“I’m Mica,” she replied, a smile on her lips.
“Are you going far?” I asked as I settled back into my train seat.
“All the way,” she said, and then she blushed. “I mean, London. Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay. I realised what you meant,” I said with a laugh in my voice.
She turned the magazine round. “Sex with strangers, eh?”
“Er, yes, it was a rushed choice due to the car park. I just grabbed a couple of magazines from the vendor and rushed to my train. It was only when I sat down that I realised what my choice was.”
She looked at me coyly and just smiled. ‘God Almighty, she is pretty,’ I thought.
“Have you ever had sex with a stranger?” I asked, without looking up, my voice speaking without my brain being engaged.
“No. I…”
“Would you like to? The toilet has just become vacant.” I pointed to the vacant light above the toilet door.
I saw her gasp a little, and then she looked me directly in the eyes, and then Mica said, “Can you actually back it up?”
We both burst out laughing.
I looked across. “The loo is occupied now. Will you settle for a coffee & lunch?” I asked, then added, “at least for now.”
She shook her head and gave a mock tut, bringing another smile to her face.
“How do you like it?” I asked.
She smiled and said, “I know you want me to say black & strong like my men, but I’m going to disappoint and say white. You can surprise me with food; I like most things.”
I headed up the carriage to the buffet car and ordered and walked back, doing the hands-full juggle. On my return, I noticed she had changed seats; she was in mine & vice versa. I would now be able to see the length of the carriage. ‘Strange,’ I thought. ‘I wonder why she did that.’
“It’s coffee and sausage & bacon butties, with a selection of sauces,” I said, and then emptied my pockets, “tomato, brown, mustard, mayo, plus various sugars and sweeteners.”
She laughed, “I hope you don’t mind swapping seats; I don’t like having my back to the direction of travel.”
“No, it’s fine, Mica,” I said.
She looked at the sauces and then unwrapped her sandwich. “You spoil me,” she said.
“I will try to,” I replied with a smile. I did notice that she seemed to have undone another button of her blouse, and that gave me a wonderful view. My heart was racing; I knew I wanted her.
Was I misreading things, or was she pressing all the buttons to show that she wanted me to?
She giggled and smiled at my rather weak jokes, which gave me lots of encouragement. I had a semi, just looking at her; maybe it was fate that brought us together. I had been going to drive to London but had changed my mind at the last moment. I told her that had been my original plan, and she said the same, and we both laughed.
I placed my hands over hers and used my middle finger to touch the top of her hand. She flicked her hair and smiled, more blood rushing to my dick. It was the way she just looked at me; I felt like a silly schoolboy with a crush.
There was a lurch, and the train eventually moved off, only five minutes late. The railways in Britain are just terrible. I expected that they would have some excuse about signalling and waiting for the way to clear. But then, we had hardly cleared the station when we ground to a halt. More signals then, I expected.
Eventually we were moving again, the train doing that little side-to-side sway that British carriages always seemed to do once their speed got into double figures. Outside, the countryside rushed by, with the occasional rush of a train passing in the other direction.
“What do you do, Mica?” I asked her.
“I work for a fashion magazine. I am going down to look at a number of rushes from a shoot that was done last week. I want to select some for an upcoming article. The photographer had the brief, but she is a new photographer to me, and I need to see if she has interpreted my instructions properly.”
“Crumbs, that sounds fancy. Couldn’t you have looked at them online?
“Well, yes, but that would mean putting them online, and anything online can be hacked and stolen. We don’t allow any of our images to go online prior to the publication date.”
“Wow, that would never occur to me.”
“There is a lot of money in fashion, and the Chinese in particular pay good money for images. That means they can churn out fake copies.”
“I guess they want them available when the article comes out, or as soon as possible.” I hazarded.
I felt her foot rubbing against mine under the table; she had slipped her heels off, and it was just her toes inching up my leg. Her eyes on mine to see if I reacted. I simply smiled and gave a small, satisfied sigh.
“What about you?” She asked, “What do you do?”
“Oh, nothing so fancy. I am self-employed as a contracting manager. Today I am going to meet with clients and discuss the new digital telephone system that they want installed.”
“Oh, crumbs, something I have never even thought about.”
“Well, I guess not; it is just one of those things that everyone expects to just work, but there is a lot to it.”
“Don’t tell me; I wouldn’t have a clue what on earth you are talking about.”
“Like me with fashion. The only thing I ever notice about clothes is when it is time to take them off.”
“Take them off?”
“Or move them out of the way.” As I spoke, I stroked my finger down her hand, sliding it between two of her fingers. In my mind’s eye, I was sliding it in her fanny crease and not a finger crease. I wondered if she would make the same connection.
“You are very naughty,” she said, and her foot moved higher and pressed against my crotch.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said.
“I would hope that there would be more than half,” she said as her foot pressed hard against my erection.
“I think I need the loo,” I said.
“Me too,” she replied.
As we rose, the train entered a tunnel and then slowed to a halt, the train partially enclosed within the tunnel, presumably another danger signal. The carriage lights dimmed as if it were night. Mica opened the accessible toilet door and pulled me in.
“Let’s see”, she said, “Let’s see if you can deliver.”
I pushed her against the back wall and pulled her skirt up – no knickers.
“I took them off when you were getting the coffee,” she said, “you know, just in case.”
“Excellent,” I answered as my finger found her crease and slipped through her wetness. My fingers wanted to go down and push inside her, but my brain cautioned that she might not yet be ready. Go up, it told me; find her clitoris.
My brain isn’t usually wrong about these things, and so upwards I went, slowly, sliding between the flaps of her fanny, her increasingly wet flaps, until I found her little bump. As I touched it, her mouth opened, and she let out a gasp, her fingers squeezing my arm.
I played with her clit, I pushed through her fanny lips, and then I reached down, crooked my finger and pushed it up. God, she was wet, and she was hot.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling away, “not here; this is sordid.”
And she was right. I was turned on, but, really, a quickie in a train?
“Well, young lady, what now?” I whispered.
“Kiss me, Keith, long and deeply. When we go back to our seats, I have so much more to tell you. I am sorry, but not in here, not in a train toilet.”
I held her face and started to kiss her softly, gently. She moaned into my mouth, our tongues entwined. I slipped my hand down and undid another button, sliding my hand inside her blouse, the silk feeling amazing. My fingers stroking the softness of her breasts before sliding deep into her cup and caressing her nipple, rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
She gasped, “Oh, Keith,” and our kissing became more frenzied. I broke away and looked her in the eyes. My arousal was through the roof.
“God, I want you so much, Mica,” I said, “but perhaps not here, not now, maybe tonight or tomorrow.” I looked into her eyes; they looked sad, large and wet.
“I have something to tell you that’s important to both of us,” she said.
I held her face and started to kiss her eyes gently. She pulled my lips down to hers and moaned into my mouth, our tongues entwined. I slipped my hand down and undid another button, sliding my hand back inside her blouse.
“I’m just nervous about telling you,” she said.
“Just kiss me again like last time.” I said, “And perhaps it will all feel fine.”
I removed my hand from her blouse and placed both hands on her bottom, kissing her deeply, pulling her against my hardness. Finally, she broke away and said, “We must get out of here; there might even be a queue to get in by now.”
And there was a queue. I went out first and said to the guy hovering outside, “Sorry, she has a wardrobe malfunction; she will be out in a moment.”
“Oh yeah?” The guy replied, “That’s what you are calling it these days.”
As she walked back along the carriage towards me, I thought, ‘She is beautiful,’ and she was, in so many ways. Her face, her smile, her posture, her voice, her figure, her hair. Her clothes, her shoes, her style only added to it.
Mica sat down next to me, and I put my hand in hers. She looked at me, kissed my lips, and then spoke.
“I need to tell you this, Keith. All I told you about my job is true, but that’s for tomorrow. Right now, I feel more aroused than I have been in such a long, long time. I desire you so much, and yet why?”
She paused a moment, her eyes looking sad again. “I am on my way to meet a man in London. I have been chatting online with him for months. It’s a friendship that has grown out of loneliness. Yes, we met on a sex site, but it’s not anything sordid.”
She stopped speaking again and squeezed my hand. I didn’t say anything; I wanted her to take her time. After all, we had the rest of the journey to London. She continued.
“Only recently have we started texting about what we would like to do to each other. The decision to meet him has been a hard one. We only recently started to talk on the phone. He has pushed me into phone sex, which I didn’t really enjoy at the time; I told him I didn’t enjoy it. To be fair to him, he hadn’t pushed me to try again. What I didn’t tell him was that I had recorded the call, and I have cum twice since, listening to it again. To hear him cum so hard tipped me over the edge.”
She squeezed my hand and then continued. “Yet I’m here with you, Keith, with a dampness, hell no, a wetness in my knickers.”
She took hold of my hand and placed it on her thigh. “Why today do I meet you, a man that I am so attracted to? Why, when I am supposed to be meeting someone else, someone who I realise now is totally wrong for me?”
“I don’t know, Mica. I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t looking to meet anyone, but when I saw you, my heart almost stopped. There is something about you.”
She smiled. “I thought to myself as I saw you, ‘You are my type for sure,'” she said. “Nice looking, and you do smell amazing. You have confidence, not big-headedness, but are a man comfortable in his own body. You are someone so easy to talk to, someone,” she paused, “someone that can bring out the best in me. I feel good, but now I am scared about the other man. I don’t know what I should do.
“Thank you for the compliment,” I said, squeezing her thigh. I asked her to tell me more about the guy. “Has he sent you photos? Have you sent some to him?”
Mica looked in my eyes and said, “Yes, I have sent him eight over the months, but I have only received one from him, and it’s not great. It’s very blurred.”
“Have you asked him for a better one?” I asked her.
She looked at me and said, “Yes, I have on a few occasions. There has always been a valid reason, and then I just let it go.”
“What do you know about him?” I asked her.
She looked at me and said, “He told me he is 55, divorced, with two grown-up children. He works in the city as a firm’s accountant. I thought it’s an easy meet-up for me; he doesn’t know where I live other than Leeds, but I don’t actually live there.”
It sounded very iffy to me. I thought for a moment, careful with what I said, and then spoke. “It’s a difficult one, but it’s very strange about the photo, especially as you have asked for more. It sounds a bit like a scam.”
She nodded. “I am beginning to think so, too. If he had sent me a decent photograph, then I wouldn’t be having the doubts.”
“Look,” I said, “I need to be honest with you, too. After I had checked into the hotel, I was supposed to be having dinner with a lady with whom I had been in a relationship for over five years. She is fully lesbian now, but we try and meet twice a year, once in London and once in Yorkshire, just for a chat and food.”
I paused; her face looked a little disappointed; perhaps she was hoping for something else. “If it’s alright with you,” I continued, “I’m going to text her now and tell her I have met you, but that it’s complicated and I need to go with you to the place you are meeting someone. I won’t say why, of course, just that I am a bit suspicious and worried it might be a scam. She knows me; she totally will understand. Then if you will allow me to, I will come with you to your meet with this blurry photo guy. We can walk in separately, and I will go and sit in the lounge and watch what happens. But I am very worried about you, Mica!”
I pulled her to me and kissed her passionately. She kissed back, her hand on my thigh; my dick noticed and lurched. I half hoped that she would touch me, but she didn’t.
“But now I’m going to text my friend and tell her I have met you.”
I spent a few minutes sending the texts and anxiously awaiting her response.
It came back eventually. ‘100% ok; you do the right thing. Perhaps the 3 of us can meet up at some point. xxx’
I showed Mica the text, and she smiled, a great big ear-to-ear smile. “Yes,” she said, “meeting her sounds cool.”
We sat looking at each other as the train neared London; we had an easy silence. We didn’t need to fill the space with words; just looking at each other was more than enough for us. Our fingertips touched on the table, our palms flat, with the gentle sway of the carriage as we hurtled down the East Coast Mainline into England’s capital city.
The train slowed to almost a crawl, and the carriage rocked from side to side as we went over the points and eventually came to that wonderfully slow halt that only trains seem to be able to do. I retrieved our cases from the overhead rack, and we alighted onto Platform 11.
We had some time before Mica was due to meet her mystery man, and she had booked into the Wesley, a hotel a little further away than the Hilton that I was in.
“Why don’t you change to the Hilton?” I asked, my thoughts being a little different from what I was saying. I, of course, hoped that she would simply share my room.
“I can’t get my money from the booking back, so I may as well keep it. Of course,” and she smiled, “I may not actually use the room.”
That gave me hope, tremendous hope, and my dick lurched in my trousers. We wheeled our suitcases along the platform through the gates and into the concourse. We stood under the arrivals and departures board and looked around. The place was heaving.
“I’ve got to check in anyway,” I said. “You may as well come with me, and then you can freshen up in my room. Or, I suppose, you could wait a few minutes for me to check in, and I will walk you to your hotel to check in.”
“It may be a bit pointless taking my luggage over there only to wheel it back again later,” and she winked. “Let’s just go to your room, at least until it is time for the meet.”
I took her hand, and we walked out of the concourse along to the Hilton hotel, where I had a few moments checking in. Mica stood to one side so she didn’t hear me upgrade from a standard double to a junior suite. Well, my hopes were on the up, so why not?
We did not do anything in my suite apart from cuddle and kiss; she wanted to be ‘fresh’ to meet Geoff – that was the guy’s name, after all; that was why she was here in the first place.
After a while, we walked along to the Wesley Hotel; she was meeting him in the bar. We went in separately, me first, just in case he was watching. I went up to the bar and ordered a Diet Coke and sat in one of the empty chairs in the bar. She didn’t check into her room; we had agreed that would be for the best. She could always check in later if she needed to.
I looked around the bar and found a couple of possibles for Geoff. I know that they had agreed on a routine for meeting. Mica came in after a few minutes and went to the bar, and she ordered a gin and tonic. She then went and found a table and sat down facing the entrance.
I wasn’t in her line of sight, but she would see me out of the corner of her eye. After a few minutes, a man, not one of the likely candidates, walked up and spoke to her and then sat down, and they chatted. I could see why he hadn’t sent a decent photo; he was balding and had a large beer belly. It would have been all right if he had been up front about them, but he had tried to hide them.
After a few minutes of chatting, Mica got up to go to the loo. That was the signal; I knew that she was going out of the hotel, not simply out of the bar. I left my drink and went out to meet her in the street.
“I’ve sent him a text saying that we are not a match, and I am not coming back into the bar. He may think I am at the hotel, but because I haven’t checked in, the reception staff won’t be able to help him.”
“Okay,” I said as I put my arm around her and we walked back to my hotel, or was it now our hotel?
“It didn’t gel then?”
“No, he obviously hadn’t washed and had halitosis too. I just wasn’t liking what I saw. Even if I hadn’t met you, I would have blown him off. I’m done with online dating; people lie too much.”
We cuddled as we walked, and before long we were back at my hotel. Before we entered the hotel, I looked back along the street; there was no sign of Geoff. He hadn’t followed her out of the hotel. Hopefully that would be the end of that. Mica had blocked his number, and short of accidentally bumping into him somewhere, hopefully that was the end of that.
As we walked into the suite, I smiled as Mica popped the ‘Do Not Disturb’ on our room door. In the suite I took my jacket off and hung it over the back of a chair, and as I turned, I found myself in Mica’s arms.
This morning, I had never met this woman; she was a total stranger. Now she was kissing me in a hotel in London Town. I held her face, stooped down, and kissed her on her lips.
“Why are you delaying?” She asked, “I need you inside me, and then I need to go and eat.”
I laughed and pulled her to me, my hard dick pressing into her belly. I undid the catch of her dress and lowered her zip. I flicked the catch of her bra and had it undone. I stepped away and lowered her dress and bra in one, letting them fall in a puddle at her feet.
I stepped away and looked at her. She had a small lady bulge; I couldn’t see her fanny as her knickers covered it, but I already knew that she shaved, as my fingers had already delved. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off, and stood facing her as I unbuckled my belt and then my trousers, pushing them and my boxers to the floor and stepping out of them.
I was in my socks, Mica was in her knickers, we looked at each other, and both laughed. “God, aren’t we a sexy couple,” she said. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my socks off, lying back, my dick pointing up as if examining the ceiling. Mica slipped her knickers down and left them on the floor next to her dress.
Her crease was full and plump, and even though without hair, there was no mistaking it for a young girl’s, it exuded femininity. She stood for a moment, her legs apart, the light from the window behind her, her shape perfectly silhouetted, and then she ran and dived onto the bed.
“Fuck me.”
My thoughts exactly. I sat up and then bent over her, my face at her crotch, inhaling her scent. No hint of perspiration, just a slight sweetness that assailed me. I bent further forward and ran my tongue along her crease; she shivered and murmured appreciatively.
She had a taste that had an edge of spice to it. I wondered if she had eaten a curry yesterday; I didn’t care. My tongue eased between the lips of her sex and opened up her valley. She was hot and she was wet; my tongue slipped easily between her folds, making slight slurping sounds.
She held my head and pulled; I sensibly followed, not having planned on decapitation. “I said ‘fuck me’, not suck me,” she said, reaching down and grabbing my dick and sliding it along her crease. I jiggled, she lined me up, and I slowly pressed my hips down.
Her petals parted, and my dick went through her opening and into her depths. My foreskin rolled back along my shaft, and her fanny caressed my glans. I gasped as pleasure flowed through me.
“Yes, God, yes,” she managed, her mouth open, her arms around me, her fingernails pressing into my shoulders.
I eased back and then thrust, eliciting a gasp from Mica and a slap as our bodies collided. Back out and then in, a steady rhythm, the symphony of hotel sex, as heard in every hotel corridor in the world.
My back winced as her fingernails dug in, my balls bounced as I thrust and withdrew, and my foreskin flashed along my shaft. She was hot, she was wet and her fanny gripped my dick as if it would never let go. Her boobs wobbled beneath me, doing jogs across her chest; her nipples looked like little hard bullets, and her mouth was opening and closing.
“Oh, God, fuck, yes,” she mantraed as we shagged, two strangers that had met on a train and joined in a hotel room. I could feel my balls tighten; I knew that I was close.
“I’m close,” I managed, being as polite as the situation allowed.
“Fucking fill me,” she managed, her fanny tightening and clamping, her moment approaching.
“Oh, yes,” I gasped as I thrust in hard, my balls releasing my spunk, flooding her fanny, filling her womb. I held, and then I pulled back and thrust once more, my balls finally draining as Mica screamed her release into the suite.
She was bucking beneath me, her eyes flashing, her mouth wide, her nails digging deep. Then she relaxed; suddenly, all the tension was gone, and she almost slumped into the bed beneath me. I eased back, my dick fell from her with a gurgle, and I rolled onto my back next to her.
We had gone from being strangers in a train to intimates in a hotel. Crikey.
