Strangers on a Train 3

Strangers on a Train 3
by AGreyFoxxx

My trip to New York had been such a success that my boss asked me to go again. “Our client in the Big Apple really loved your presentation, and they want you back.”

They weren’t the only ones! I thought to myself.

“Are you willing to go?”

“I can’t see why not, but let me talk it over with my husband.”

That evening over dinner, I broached the subject. Dave sat there with a sly smile and said, “Why not?” adding, “I have some vacation time coming. Why don’t I go with you? We could have a lot of fun in New York. Especially on the train.”

I booked a room at the same B&B I had stayed at previously just so we could take the train together.

The following week, we packed for a four day weekend: a couple of changes of clothes for him and I, and a bunch of toys to occupy our evenings. The B&B was lovely, but the walls were thin and we were able to eavesdrop on the couple next door – a randy pair who, apparently didn’t mind if the world knew exactly what they were doing. To show our appreciation, we gave them something to listen to in return.

The trip into the city was uneventful. The scenery out the train window was pretty at times, and somewhat desolate at others. The contrasts were unavoidable; the detritus inland versus the beauty of the river on the other side. The biggest disappointment was that we missed my “friend,” but it was a gamble. If we missed him we would have some fun together in the evening anyway.

Once at Grand Central Station, we parted; Dave to explore the city, me to give my presentation, promising to meet later at the information kiosk in the middle of the floor.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Great!” he said. “I took in the Empire State Building, the 9-11 Memorial, the South Street Seaport Museum, lunch at one of the gazillion hot dog stands on every corner. How was yours?”

“It went well. The audience was enthusiastic,” I replied as we wound our way through the rush hour crowd toward track 23. He had his hand up under my skirt, caressing my ass and cunt, making me very damp. We stepped aboard the last car, taking the last seats across the aisle from one another.

It was then that I realized that I was wearing red silk panties. What was I to do? Harry’s instructions last time were “No panties!” So I rucked up my skirt rolling them off my ass and down my legs. The rail car was still relatively empty, so I sling-shotted them across the aisle, hitting Dave in the face. He smiled as he sniffed them before stuffing them in his pocket.

Just as the train lurched away from the station, I saw him ambling down the aisle. Our eyes met. We both smiled. “Looking for a seat, Harry?”

Turning towards me, he slid by, his ample erection straining against his slacks just inches from my face. He sat, putting a hand on my knee. “What? No trashy novel to read?”

My grin widened. “Who needs a trashy novel? I’ve got you.”

His hand slid up my thigh, under my skirt. His practiced fingers finding my bare cunt, already slick with anticipation. “You remembered!” he said as the first of two fingers entered me.

“How could I forget?” I replied as I slid down the seat, spreading my legs. Feeling the fullness of his fingers as they assaulted my g-spot, I struggled not to announce my impending orgasm. I looked over at Dave. He had a huge grin on his face as he pretended to read his newspaper.

“Harry, I need to suck your cock,” I whispered to him as he removed his cum-soaked fingers from me and stuck one in my mouth after licking the other clean.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, unzipping his fly. His sculpted, veiny cock flew out of its confinement, a drop of pre-cum oozing from his slit. I kissed his helmet, smearing his juices over my lips like lip gloss before engulfing the rosy, spongy head. I started to hum, causing him to thrust his hips upward, shoving his helmet to the back of my throat. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew Dave’s eyes were riveted to Harry’s crotch. I had both men where I wanted them: hard and helpless!

Harry tapped me on the top of my head, whispering, “Conductor.” I lifted off his glorious hard-on in time to cover Harry’s lap with a newspaper. Dave wasn’t quite so lucky; his hand was down his pants caressing his manhood and he fumbled with his ticket.

I turned to Harry and said, “I want to fuck you on the train. Are you up for it?”

He just smiled, looked at his spit-soaked erection, stood up and said, “What do you think?”

I took his hand and we went out the rear door of the commuter car. There in the vestibule, I put my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, teasing the head of his cock with my bare, damp, pussy lips. After a few seconds of teasing, I dropped down, filling my cunt with his fat member. As he bottomed out, I moaned, “Oh, God! I needed this!”

With his hands cupping my ass cheeks, he bounced me up and down on his cock. I pulled his face to mine, sliding my tongue between his lips. He tasted of coffee as I ground my pelvis into his, loving every inch of his cock as it stretched me open. “I want you to cum inside me.” I whispered, rolling my hips and clenching him tightly with my pussy.

Just then, the door slid open. Harry turned with a scowl on his face, but before he could say anything, I added, “Harry, this is Dave. He’s my husband. He likes to watch!”

The scowl disappeared. “I’d shake your hand, but mine are full right now.” He returned to the task at hand, dropping me on his cock as he buried his face in my neck.

There I was; my back against the wall, my front against his pubic bone, his cock buried deep inside me, his hands mauling my butt cheeks, and my husband stroking his cock, watching us. How could it get any better than this? I could feel the orgasm building within. Fuck, was this going to be good one! Bouncing and grinding, urging him on, begging to be left a quivering mass, leaking his seed down my legs. To drown my orgasmic scream, he covered my mouth with his as I flailed my way through a cum for the ages.

As I was coming down from that incredible high, I heard him growl, felt him thrust deep, and pump his warm reward, washing the walls of my womb with his cum. He gently dropped me on wobbly feet and turned to Dave just in time to see him squirting his load into my red panties.

Dave turned to Harry and said, “Thanks!”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Harry replied, stuffing himself back into his trousers and zipping up.

Dave handed me my cum-covered panties. I slipped them on just as the conductor sang out “Sleepy Hollow! Next station stop is Sleepy Hollow.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rachael’s Response:

Oh, if life were only more like porno-reality! Or maybe it is and I’m just leading a sheltered life.

I can’t conceive of actually fucking another man while I’m married to my beloved husband, but the fantasy is a captivating scene to imagine. I love the idea of being watched while I fuck. I don’t fantasize about being with other people when I have sex, but I do often pretend that certain people are in the room watching me and masturbating to the sight of me being a nasty girl. Sometimes these phantom voyeurs tell me to do something particularly filthy, and I will obey their wishes.

There’s also something about being able to get away with such blatant sex acts in public. This aspect of the story holds an odd appeal to me. When I look at nude in public photos, the ones that make my pussy twerk feature clueless people in the background oblivious to the fact that the cute girl getting her picture taken has her naked cunt lips out flapping in the breeze!

The only problem left is what to do with my red silk panties? My dear hubby blew his load in them, and by the time we get back to the B&B their boing to be soaked with Harry’s jizz leaking out of my well-fucked cunny. Should I wash them, or save them to wear again when I’m feeling especially slutty?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

1 Comment

One thought on “Strangers on a Train 3

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>