Erotic story: The train ride

My buttocks are just touching the terribly charming seat of the train seat when my phone starts to vibrate. Slightly sweaty, I fish my phone out of my bag and see his name on the screen.

“Hi.”

“Hey honey. Did you catch the train?”

Sighing, I tell them that it was just in the nick of time and indicate that I can’t wait to get home.

“I can’t wait for that either.” It sounds laughing on the other end of the line.

I feel my cheeks take on a red color and I start to blush. A tingling flashes through my body. Caught, I look around to see if anyone notices, but hardly anyone is around.

It is fairly quiet on the train. In the bench in front of me is a young lady with earplugs in and diagonally behind me I hear some noises. That’s it.

“The weather is nice today. Are you wearing a skirt?”

Although his directness doesn’t surprise me, I still produce some moronic laugh. Then I confirm his question.

“Take a picture,” he says, “but in a way that I can immediately see the color of your thong.”

I teasingly ignore his request and ask what we’re going to eat.

“No no, none of it. I want that picture,” he replies with a laugh.

“I’m on the train!” I protest, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“That’s right,” he replies.

The tension wins over the discomfort and I quickly pull up my skirt and shoot a photo.

“Nice,” he begins as soon as he receives the photo. “Can it be a little more?”

Again I protest by saying I’m on the train, but again he doesn’t care.

“Imagine how nice it would feel if you did what I whisper in your ear for the rest of the ride.”

Just the thought makes me moist and I bite my lower lip.

“Show me your panties a little better.”

So I’m really not going to do this.

“Do it.”

His last words pierce my thoughts and the severity of the sound is enough for me to obey anyway.

Carefully I pull my skirt up further and shoot another photo. This time I even pull my string aside. I would prefer to hide away, far away in a corner where no one sees me and at the same time it is precisely that tension that is the culprit of my horniness.

The place where I am is anything but a corner. I sit openly (almost literally) on one of the four seats in the middle of the carriage. It may be quiet, but we stop at every stop and every now and then someone walks by down the aisle.

“Take off.”

Tension is coursing through my body and I look around ten more times before I dare to do what he tells me to do.

Slowly and nervously I take off my thong and stuff it in my bag. I feel caught, already and nothing has happened yet! As long as no one looks up from his phone, I’m safe.

“I really like the idea that you are now on the train with your naked cunt.”

Its directness sends down hungry jolts. Jesus this is naughty and this is sexy. My attitude changes by the second. It seems like I’m going to slump further and further.

“Shit” I whisper, “someone is walking by.”

I can hear his pleasant laugh through my phone. While I do my best to appear as casual as possible, an older man passes by. He smiles kindly at me and I sigh in relief.

“Take a picture of your moist fingers so I’ll have a better idea of ​​how wet you are.”

I quietly assure him I’m wet. Wet enough. But he keeps asking for proof. Trembling with excitement and nerves, I let my hand and fingers disappear under my fabric. On the other end of the line, he asks what I’m doing and orders me to share my steps.

I feel like a gasp from a bad movie, but I don’t care. I start to speak in a whisper. About the wetness, my excitement and my willing attitude. I tell how my fingertips have reached my moist lips and gently glided along them. I tell that not only does my cat feel wet, but also the inside of my thighs.

He sighs and growls that it turns him on. As soon as I have shot and sent a photo of a shiny finger, it is really on.

“Finger yourself. Imagine they are my fingers and tell me how you feel.”

Instantly my breath stops and my eyes shoot through the train again. The girl in front of me has her earplugs in and is absolutely oblivious to me. I prop myself closer to the window, place my bag against my side, and then start talking.

“Your fingers are slowly sliding towards my heat. Babe, it feels so exciting.”

He moans and asks for more.

“I gently let my legs fall apart so you can get to them better. Your fingertips now wander my clit. It’s humid and hot. I can’t wait for you to touch me.”

On the phone he begs me to bring my fingers inside.

“Now, they’re going in now. tight. It almost feels like they are being sucked in. It’s two that get in. Two fingers that fill me up.”

My eyes keep darting back and forth, as if waiting to be caught. But nothing happens. Everyone is in their own world and the houses and meadows pass by through the window. His voice is soothing. He is panting that he is excited and that there is something waiting for me at home. He feeds my desire.

“Your thumb is getting wilder over my clit. I can’t control myself.” I moan louder than I intended.

“Jesus, how nice. Close your eyes.” Does he hiss.

I obey. I close my eyes and keep going until my heat has reached a boiling point. My legs start to tremble and I gasp through my phone that I’m about to cum. A tingling takes over, my heart beats overtime and I press my phone even tighter against my ear.

“You sound so horny when you cum. Even in silence.” He compliments me. “Are you going to help me now?”

I open my eyes and see the girl standing in front of me. She looks at me with slightly irritated eyes. As if she wants to ask with her eyes if I’m serious. If I realize what the hell I’m doing. I feel caught, I’ve been caught. I make an effort to fire a laugh her way. The kind of smile that makes it seem like I don’t know anything, but I barely manage to do it.

“Honey, I have to get out in a minute, save your excitement for later. I’ll be right at home.”