Train Dream Girl

I don't remember the first time I saw her. I caught the same train every day since I started working in the city three years ago and she was always the light in an otherwise grey undertaking. Obviously she is going to work too as she is usually dressed quite formally with a smart, white blouse, short tight blue skirt and sometimes a jacket depending on the weather.

First time I saw her, I was sat on the sideways bench in the train carriage while she sat opposite facing forward. Her immaculate dark blonde hair almost seemed to glow like a beacon drawing me to her as I started to spot her again and then again until eventually my eyes were effectively conditioned to find her.

Seeing her almost daily I often wonder who she is? What's her name? What does she like to eat? What makes her laugh? But more than anything I wonder what it's like to kiss her. Her lips look so delicate, her skin around them like porcelain. Normally it stays at that but today as she sits in front of me, my mind fuelled by my desire is takingover for some harmless fantasizing.

I imagine placing my hands on her cheeks with my fingertips under her ears as I lean in and delicately plant my lips on hers. The first kiss is soft and slow but eventually we kiss faster and harder. Soon, the passion begins to take over as my left hand runs around the back of her neck while my right hand tracers the contours of her neck before finding her ample bosom. For her part, she has found the bulge in my trousers and has wrapped her hand around it, stroking me through rough fabric only heightening the sensation as the tip runs along the inside of my underwear and zipper.

Suddenly, she yanks down the zipper in one single action and plunges her hand in my trousers, pulling out my erection which pops free. She stands up with her back to me, slithering her skirt up over her thighs and over the cheeks of her ass the curves of which never seem to end. A red, lacy thong straddles the parting between her cheeks and I slide my fingers behind it, pulling it to one side as she descends downwards onto my dick.

It is at this point in my fantasising that I realise that my mind was picturing this happening where she was sat and so a train full of people would be watching. Would I even care? Right now, hell no!

I imagine her sliding down my shaft, her pussy wet and firm on my manhood. It seems like my brain melts as she begins riding my shaft while I grip her hips, instructing her when to slow down and speed up.

Suddenly, in the real world the train has stopped one station before mine and as usual she has got up and left. I don't want to continue the fantasy without her there but there's always tomorrow.