Written by A A C

Fiction
26 Jan 2017


Rachel was late - again. Still zipping up her skirt hurriedly over her milky hips, she grabbed her keys and skipped out the door with one shoe only partly covering her petite feet. As soon as she arrived on the doorstep she realised with a shock that the day was promising to be much chillier than she had first thought - an icy northerly wind sent shards of cold circling her behind; the frosty cold sent a shiver spasm shimmering down her neck and spine, pricking up all the little downy hairs, causing her to physically shudder. She thought for a second that she should go back inside and change into a pair of trousers. She checked her watch but it wasn’t there. ‘Shit’, she muttered. She was optimistic that she may still catch the 8.15 train but she would need to run. She hated running because she couldn’t help thinking that the neighbours would be watching her and they would be joking that she was late for work again. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

However, on this day the neighbours had a little more to twitch their curtains about. For in her hurry, Rachel with her long slender legs had pulled up her Karen Miller thong after her rushed departure from the loo and caught her skirt. Her soft porcelain rear was now on display, fully rounded for all who were fortunate enough to be walking the world, nearby this little suburb, at this precise time.

We, as the Author and his readers, are of course in the most fortunate position of all in this scenario - as we can now observe her on her journey to work completely unnoticed. In fact I could follow her so closely on her way to work that I can smell the aroma of Clinique on the back of her neck and I could kiss her cold soft cheeks without being perceived. Which cheeks I kiss is my choice entirely. I could also perform acts of a quite filthy nature such as nestling my hand snugly between those soft apple blossom bum cheeks, and still she would be none the wiser.

In fact why not - that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I just can’t resist it and what’s to stop me anyway. My hand is now lying comfortably in the deep crack of her buttocks, the warmest and (one of) the most desirable places for it to be on this cold spring morning. The delectable creature walks quickly; with an additional wiggle. The wiggle appears a little less natural than usual, almost as though she is aware that a hand is rested snugly in the warmth of her bum. Her wiggle walk graduates into what can only be described as a foxy trot to her destination. Apparently oblivious of my hand being furtively placed between her legs the dazzling beauty hurries strangely contentedly along.

It is at this point where, the minx that I am, I slide my hand down her cold white cheeks and glide it between her legs and under the narrow cotton of her underwear so that the length of my index finger feels the moist warmth therein and the tip of my finger finds the spongy receptive spot which in return protrudes and aches to meet the touch. The intrusion causes the girl to miss her footing as she hurries along towards the train station. She cannot on her life fathom the reason but she is acutely aware of feeling incredibly horny – more than ever in her life - and her mind spins. She sees only a white haze in front of her eyes and is only partially aware of her quest to reach the train station on time. This vague purpose drives her onwards. Her walk is more of a wiggle or a kind of jig, a jiggle perhaps, as she only seems to be making short strides forward but with long gyrating glides to the sides. My finger continues to circle the protruding moist fleshy button - first clockwise – then anticlockwise. She, the girl Rachel, at this stage is making soft whimpers at the back of her throat and her beautiful lustful eyes roll around as though possessed. She falls into herself and loses all sense of who and of where and even of what she is – she is guided by a lustful manipulating hand. She is led only by some carnal instinct and her mind is left reeling as though she has been wound up tight and high on a child’s swing and is now spinning back down to earth at such speed to make her dizzy.

Suddenly it all stops. The Author decided it should and so it does. For what reason we don’t have to go into - only that we know it does. The Author is such a tease you see and enjoys the power he has over these mere mortal characters. Rachel, for the first time in some minutes realises where she is. She has found herself in a heap under some trees within sight of the train station. The lovely lady has discovered that her knickers are wedged so tightly between her legs that she has some trouble extricating them. She has broken one of the heels on her shoes. She is baffled by her condition and looks around to see if anyone is watching. The sweet smell of sexstasy is still pervading the space and Rachel feels her heart palpitating, still, from the previous throws. The smell sends her dizzy and all she wants is to continue what she was doing and forget about the rest of the world around her. However the train pulls into the station and Rachel is suddenly hit by a thrust of normality and gathers her broken shoe and hobbles off quickly to catch the train.

Rachel has managed to make it in time to the train that she wanted. The 8.15 train will get her to work on time however she will have to stand up the whole way. The little sex puppet however is still shuddering from all that went before. Her legs are dancing a jig and she is so wet that she thinks that she can hear herself squelch when she moves her knees to readjust her position. She is a little self conscious about this and finds a tissue in her handbag and slides it down the front of her skirt and down into her knickers. She feels with her fingers and discovers that it is much wetter than she had imagined. She leaves one tissue there and reaches for another one from her bag and follows the first one down. All this she does with restricted space in amongst the suited men. The first tissue by now is completely sodden and she replaces it with the second one and goes to put the first one back into her handbag. Almost without thinking however she lifts it to her nose to smell. She takes it all in and absorbs the rich aroma of the tissue, she makes an audible sigh of pleasure and then places it back into her handbag. She stands staring in front of herself for a while with a iniquitous grin on her face - as though taking in the effects of a strong narcotic or animal nitrate.

Rachel doesn’t normally behave like this of course! If she did she wouldn’t be able to hold down a respectable job – in an office – with computers and stuff. But today I have control over her. It’s my birthday present to myself. Back to Rachel who is standing on a crowded train with a big silly grin on her face and some soaked tissue stuck down her knickers. It’s time now to have a little more fun with her.

I lightly brush the inside of her knee with my finger tips. Rachel shudders from her ankles to her eyelashes and parts her legs very slightly. I seize the opportunity and grip the inside of her thigh. This creates a knot of pleasure the size of a sailors industrial rigging in the young girl’s stomach, like the up and down feeling of something physically unexpected like you get when you go over a hump backed bridge too fast in a car with your eyes closed. She grips her stomach with one hand to steady herself and giggles girlishly under her muffled breath. Her other hand has found itself grabbing hold of the bulging trousers of one of the suited men standing next to her in an attempt to steady herself. She becomes aware of where her hand is but instead of removing it as would normally be polite in this situation she begins to rub the bulge softly at first with an increasing ferocity. She is making little gasps under her breath. My hand by this time has ventured under her sodden knickers and is fully working the whole area like an eel frolicking in the shallows. My hand and fingers, because of the boundless lubrication romp freely, energetically and inquisitively. My index finger darts in and out whilst my thumb continues to manipulate her turgid button just concave and big enough to fit my thumb like a thimble. The noise that Rachel starts making has caused the lucky gent standing pressed against her to put his hand over her mouth to stifle the screams and save his own dignity. She now has ripped open the man’s trousers and has the man’s cock in her hand and like a woman possessed is pulling and yanking at it in all directions. The man is trying his best to keep his face expressionless during this to avoid any stares. A second man who was pressed by the crowds into Rachel’s writhing body and has perceptively noticed the situation and decided to join in on the action and has offered as a gift his own length which she has grabbed. She is standing legs bent at a 45 degree angle with a cock in both hands and her head thrown back, gagged by the first suited man’s hand. Whether anybody else on this train has noticed any of this I don’t know; I don’t think Rachel cares that much and the two men are certainly letting themselves go. People on trains don’t notice much beyond the Sudoku puzzle in their paper or their own Mills and Boon. If they had of noticed this we can only imagine what they might have done. Would they have joined in? Would this have caused one of the biggest spontaneous orgies of our time? This sort of thing being quite normal in the time of the Ancient Greeks and Romans, and doubtless Genghis might have enjoyed it. The train arrives at the final destination and a mass of bodies falls out onto the station all covered in cum and sweat. That would be a great story wouldn’t it? But no – again - like before, the author stops his antics to watch with pleasure as his little puppet vixen comes to her senses and observes the situation around her. She has a hard cock in each hand and her skirt is hitched up around her waist. She has cum all over one of her hands where one of the men has had his moment. The other man looks puzzled and desperate, as he was almost at his point of no return before she stopped. Now she looks confused and embarrassed and lets go of both cocks buttons herself up wipes the cum from her hand over the mans suit to whom it belongs and walks down the train away from the two men. She sees the unfulfilled man following her along the carriage and so she keeps moving into the next carriage and further down. She continues walking and the man continues to follow her like a possessed zombie, his erection visible through his pinstripe trousers.

As her walk quickens so does his. She hurried along the carriage, baffled by all that had happened to her at the hands of the puppet master and worried about what the horny suit has in store for her. As she gets near the end of the train a desperate and scared Rachel is suddenly pulled inside an open side door. “Hello miss” said the man in the rail worker’s uniform, “You looked from the cameras like you might need a little help” he said. “Cameras!” exclaimed Rachel with interest, “Would you mind if I took a look at them – I’m a little confused this morning and I don’t really know what has been going on.” “Certainly miss” said the conductor you might be a little surprised by what you see on them – I certainly was. I never thought I would see you here in my place but of course I wished it” he said with a smile. Rachel looked uneasy….


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