The Train
Story Codes: FF, Consensual, Exhibitionism


The Train
by Carl Chester

The train snaked through the English countryside, enveloped by the darkness of evening.

 Jenny sat listening to her mp3 player, occasionally glancing out of the window. The blackness
outside was periodically punctuated by clusters of lights as they passed a small village or town. The
repetitive, dull clatter of the train wheels was the only other sound.

 As the evening progressed, Jenny’s train carriage slowly emptied of passengers. Business men,
travellers, families, a group of noisy women evidently on their way to a night out, all alighted until
there were only two left. Jenny and the girl sat in the seat next to her were now the only remaining
passengers in the carriage.

 The music in her ears stopped abruptly. The battery had run out and Jenny had not brought a
charger with her. Annoyed, she put it away. She drummed her fingers on her knees, sighed. She
checked her watch, another thirty minutes until her stop.

 Jenny glanced to her right, trying to get a better look at the girl in the seat next to her without being
obvious about it.

 The girl was reading a glossy magazine about fashion. The way that she randomly flicked through
pages, paused on one for a minute, then flicked to another page, gave Jenny the impression it did
not interest her and she was bored too.

 She looked to be about the same age as Jenny, mid-twenties. Her makeup was sparse, barely
noticeable on her pale-skinned face. Her blue eyes flicked to and fro, scanning the pages before
her. Her long blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, which was draped down her front, snaking almost to
her waist.

 She had on a blue blouse, similar to the colour of Jenny’s tee shirt, and a short black skirt. Her legs
were bare, as pale as her face. Jenny watched as she uncrossed then crossed them the opposite
way. She heard the faintest hiss of her skirt riding up against her thighs as they were crossed. Jenny
imagined what lay beneath her skirt - a neatly trimmed pussy, or did she prefer a full bush?

 Jenny heard a voice, interrupting her reverie. “What are you looking at?”

 She raised her head to see the girl staring directly at her, clearly angry. Opening her mouth to
respond, no words would initially come.

 Jenny, you’ve been caught, her brain teased. Fess up. Honesty is the best policy.

 “You’ve got fantastic legs,” she said.

 The girl’s expression softened a little, she smiled. “You think?”

 “Absolutely.”

 “Karla,” she the girl.

 “Jenny.”

 “That accent. You’re American?”

 “Ohio.”

 “So, Jenny from Ohio, often stare at other women’s legs, do you?” There was a playfulness to her
questions now.

 “Depends…”

 “Depends on what?”

 “If she’s the kind of woman who likes me staring at her legs.”

 Karla folded up her magazine and discarded it to the empty seat on the other side of the aisle. She
glanced up and down the aisle. They were still alone.

 “Looks like we’re the only ones here,” she said, uncrossing her legs and opening them a few inches.

 Jenny shifted herself so she was at more of an angle to Karla. She reached over and put a hand on
her thigh. Karla gasped.

 “You don’t want me to?” she queried, uncertain. Had she mis-read the situation?

 “Your hand is cold,” Karla explained.

 Slowly, Jenny slid her hand along Karla’s pale-skinned thigh. Her flesh felt warm and firm under her
fingers. She slid it further, and watched as it disappeared under the hem of her skirt. Karla closed
her eyes and released a long breath. For the first time, Jenny sniffed and got a whiff of the girl’s
sweet perfume.

 Jenny’s hand moved along, feeling her way to Karla’s crotch. Her fingertips brushed against the
delicate material of Karla’s panties. She rubbed at her cunt through the material. Karla groaned a
little, her eyes flicking open. “More,” she whispered.

 She rubbed her with added vigour, then manoeuvred her hand under her panties. Karla’s bristly
pubes tickled her palm as she slid two fingers between her wet lips and inside her.

 Karla closed her eyes again, moaning, “That’s good, oh yeah, that’s good.”

 Jenny rubbed her clit with her thumb, round and round. She forced her fingers up, further inside
Karla’s cunt, moving them up and down up and down with increasing speed.

 “Don’t stop don’t stop…”

 Karla’s body jerked as waves of pleasure rippled through her body, culminating in a final orgasmic
scream, not shy about making a noise in the empty carriage. She went quiet, taking a few deep
breaths. As she opened her eyes, Jenny retracted her wet hand. She put it in her mouth and sucked
her fingers, savouring the girl’s pussy juices.

 Karla looked at her. “I never get that kind of service in first class.”

 Jenny smiled. “Me neither.”

 A crackly announcement spluttered from the train’s speakers, calling passengers’ attention to the
next stop.
 
 “That’s me,” Karla said, standing, straightening her skirt. “I normally take this train every Tuesday,”
she added.

 “Me too,” said Jenny.


The end.

Copyright© 2012


Carl Chester lives and writes in the UK. His favourite time of the day is the evening, when he likes to
write and eat cookies, sometimes at the same time. Please visit his site @
http://cchester.blog.com/