I was looking around the platform at London, Paddington for her as soon as I got there, but with only ten minutes to spare I noticed that my train was boarding at platform four. I rushed onto the platform and quickly found coach C, seat sixty-six.
I was hoping that she would be on it in seat C sixty-five but it was empty. Worse, it was reserved from Swindon to Bristol Temple Meads where it terminated. It would seem my luck was out and that journey to London became a distant memory.
The train started to pull away from the station and I settled back into my seat and pulled my book out of my backpack. It wasn’t long before I got up to use the loo.
Back at my seat, I picked up the book and was about to turn to my page when I noticed a slip of paper poking out of the centre of it. I read it. Smiled and then read it again. I rose, gathered my coat and bag and headed off to First Class, coach A seat forty-three.
Her note had been quite enthusiastic, ‘I owe you one and I’m in first class, A43, come and join me.’ It was signed by Marion, at last, I had a name.
I could hardly contain my enthusiasm as I bounded up the train. I rapidly approached seat forty-three and slowed down enough to stare into her cleavage before leaning down to her.
“I believe that is my seat,” I said, pointing to the window.
She smiled, bit her lip and slowly rose to let me in. I didn’t move an inch and made sure her breasts brushed against my chest as I eased myself into the seat.
I hadn’t sat down for more than a minute when she turned to me and reached across my trousers to rub the palm of her hand across my cock. A cock, that I had unleashed from my pants in the toilet on my way to coach A. She squeezed my hardening shaft and tugged it towards her.
Again, and I don’t know why, but my neck twitched as I started to look around. She leaned into me.
“It’s practically empty,” she said, “and I don’t think we will be disturbed until Bath, the conductor has already seen my ticket.”
I smiled appreciatively.
“Do you still like my breasts?”
I nodded, I was concentrating too much on her breasts and stopping my cock from exploding too early to speak. Anything I could have said would have come out like a squeak.
My cock was growing and stiffening.
“Shall we get it out?” she said, staring into my eyes.
I nodded once more.
The zip took forever to slide down. I helped her with the buckle and top button and I did what she did on the train to London, raised my bottom slightly to give it more room.
She plucked my cock from the cloth and held it upright. Smiling at it as she tugged its length; pulling the foreskin down over the purple head and holding it with a stiff fist that paused along with her breathing. She raised her fist over my cock and pulled it down again, holding her fist near my balls before moving it.
“You’re lovely,” she whispered. Not to me, but to my cock.
She took one glance down the carriage, then up it, before I felt her bend and slip her lips down over it. I will always remember that warmth. I thought my cock was hot with all that blood pumping into it, but her mouth was hotter. My cock slipped all the way in; allowing her throat to slide over the head. Tiny electric shocks coursed through me. Fuck, that felt nice.
She held my cock upright, her fingertips gently brushing my balls as she raised her head and sunk back down over it. Her tongue swirled over the glans, her mouth sucked hard on the bulbous head and her throat massaged its entire length until she kissed her hand.
She impressed me. I wanted to put my hand on her head and force her down even more, but this was her moment.
I could feel my cock respond as she alternated the sucking to the slipping and sliding. She mewled when she brought her mouth off my cock to lick it with her tongue.
By the time she sank back down on it, I was ten steps closer to losing it. I started panting, raising my head and closing my eyes, savouring the moment as she bobbed on my cock.
Then her mouth slid upwards, clinging to my shaft, slurping, licking, lips over and back down again. Twenty steps closer.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to take much more. We hardly spoke and hence didn’t know whether she did or didn’t.
Mouth sliding upwards, clinging, slurping, lips over.
I came, filling her mouth with my sperm as she descended down my cock. She stopped halfway down and I could feel her swallowing. Another spurt jettisoned down her throat and another swallow, as she slowly brought her mouth back towards the head.
I kept filling her mouth, she kept swallowing. By the time she reached the top she was just milking what was left. Her tongue swirled around the very last remnants until she lifted her head with a smile.
I finally opened my eyes to find that my hand had made it to the back of her head. Though I was unconscious of putting it there.
She looked me in the eye and smiled.
“I love it when men come down my throat,” she said.
“Really,” I smiled back at her.
“Are you getting off at Bath?”
I shook my head, “Afraid not, I’m on until Bristol,” I said.
“Shame,” she said, with a tone that was very upper class, “I’d quite like to fuck it.”
Somehow, I didn’t think I was going to make Bristol.
