trains

So here is the story I promised you. Actually, there are two that are intertwined - they both happened in one week - just around the time that I started writing here. They are related, as you will see, because they were the result of a decision that I made while on the way to the train station of a particular city, which I can't really name for reasons that you will also see. I wanted to use the trip I was about to take as a kind of try-out for some of my ideas.

I was late getting to the station, and I needed to modify my ticket to add on another destination, which took even more time. The women said that I would probably miss the train, but I could go to the office to ask about a later one. So I stood in another line for customer service, but when I got to the front, the woman was hurried and rude. She said that I would not be able to transfer my ticket and that there was nothing she could do.

I pleaded with her, pointing out various possibilities, and was starting to get very upset when a man came out of the back office. He saw that I was upset and came over to find out what was going on. The woman explained, he looked at me, and then he asked me to come back to his office.

I followed him back. The funny part is that, in my mind, my "try-out" hadn't actually started yet. I had been thinking about what I was going to do once I was actually on the train! So, at this point, I was just very upset at the woman, and glad that he was going to try to help me out.

He motioned for me to sit down and he rifled through some papers on his desk. He started filling out a form, and told me that while he could not change my ticket, he could give me a voucher to use on another ticket.

I was suprised, and thankful, and told him so. He asked me where I was going, I told him, and I tried to make conversation for a minute, since he had been so nice. I asked if he took a lot of train trips, since he probably could ride free, and he said, yes, he always went to Atlantic City to gamble. He asked if I had been there, I said no, and right then, I saw where this was going.

I laughed at this point, because I had been so utterly clueless up to this point. But, then I really looked at him and thought, god, could I do this? He was in his late fifties or so, balding and thin. We talked a bit more - he told me about past trips he had taken, and I panicked a bit. I said that I should go. He said he would walk me down to the platform where the next train would be leaving from, and I could wait in some office that was down there.

So I followed him out of the room and down the escalators to the platforms. He was walking very close to me, putting his hand on my arm to guide me around corners. I could see he was sweating a little bit.

When we got to the platform, he asked if I wanted to wait in the office, but when he showed it to me, I got a bit nervous and said that I would be fine on the platform. He stood next to me, somewhat awkwardly for a few minutes, and then leaned toward me conspiratorily. Come with me to Atlantic City next weekend. I'll pay for everything, plus more. I know I don't look like much, but I will make it worth your time.

Uhhh. Shit. I am speechless, even though I knew something like this was coming. The first feeling I have is that my heart is breaking. He is so... he is just open... hanging there, waiting, knowing that I am looking at him and imagining us... trying to imagine us...

The thing he doesn't know is that I do have a bit of a thing for older, let's just say, not the most attractive, men. Not that this is all I like, by any stretch, but there is something about his raw... need, or his complete fantasy adoration of me that is some odd form of a turn on.

Just then, one of the employees standing on the platform came over to him to ask something. He moved away quickly. He had to go back to his office for something, and I told him I would wait. After he went up the escalator, I stood there for a moment, but decided to leave. I wrote my email address on a piece of paper and gave it to another worker there to give to him, and then left the station. I took a much later train and never saw him.

So, part two, I am on the train. But now, I am humming a bit inside, wondering what I will do about the train man. The train is fairly empty, and I take a seat in one of the back cars. There is a woman sitting in the next row up, across the aisle, and a man just behind me. I glance out of the corner of my eye - he is in his mid-thirties, looking out the window. The woman is reading a book. Perfect.

I move into gear, which was not hard, given what had just happened earlier. I positioned myself so that I knew the man behind me could see me through the cracks of the seat and got to work. I started by stripping down to a tank top, under which, of course, I had no bra. I ran my hands over my breasts as if I were just smoothing down my shirt, and my nipples started to respond. After a few minutes, I had a feeling that I had his attention, but wasn't sure. So I stood up to get my back out of the bin above me so that he could get a good look.

I took my wallet out of my purse, and caught his eye. I said something about going to the cafe car and could he watch my things. He said sure, if I would get him a beer.

A few minutes later, I was back with two beers, handed him one, sat back down. This was going well. Now I took it up a notch.

I looked as if I were just watching the scenery go by outside, but every few minutes, I would sort of trail my finger from near my lips, down my neck, and over my breast. Then I would do nothing for a minute, and then start again. Occasionally, I would arch my back a bit, sitting forward in the seat, stretch a little, and then settle back into the seat to start again.

After about twenty minutes of this, I stood up to get something else out of the bin, and, surprise, he said something like thanks for getting the beer, and where was I going, etc. So we started talking, and I was in the seat next to him within five minutes.

Now it was getting dark. I had about an hour before I knew he would be getting off, so I had to move more quickly. I decided to tell him about the station man.

I told him the whole story above - the rude woman, the office, the voucher, Atlantic City, his hand on my arm, the offer. The guy was riveted. What did you say?

I told him what I had done, and he asked me why I thought I had reacted that way. I said, because, even though I toy with the idea, when I imagine having actual, all the way, sex with someone for cash, something in me balks.

He asked if there was any amount of money that would have made me do it, which actually made me think. I said that if he had just wanted to watch me, or have me watch him, or if he had had a particular fetish that did not include intercourse, that I could imagine doing that for money, or some kind of valuable exchange.

While we were talking, I had put my coat on my lap. At this point, my hand was circling my pussy, and as if on cue, he asked what sum of money I was imagining. I said that I hadn't the slightest idea, and it would, I suppose, depend on, first, what he wanted me to do, and second, how much he, well, valued me... or valued the experience.

So I said that maybe what I would do was to spend a short period of time with him first, for free, to see what he thought. Then, if he liked it, and wanted more, or wanted it again, he could make some kind of offer based on how much he felt it was worth. Then I could just say yes or no. Or, he could just send me things, and I would respond based on their value to me.

But wouldn't this just be the same as being a prostitute, he asked.

Yes. I thought it was the same, though perhaps a degree less because I wasn't willing to have sex. But, I told him, the part that I found most attractive about it was the clarity of the exchange. The exchange of something valuable for something I could give, that was also valuable, made the relationship very... clean, or something. No bullshit.

I am, I think, ever so slightly, or perhaps more than slightly, a bottom. So the idea of someone knowing exactly what they wanted and who was willing to make it happen, is extremely exciting to me.

My fingers had found my clit by this point, and were getting warmed up. So, apparently, was he, as his questions began to get more specific.

Would you touch their cock?, he asked.

Maybe, I said. I think that would depend on the arrangement. And, perhaps, the cock!But I said liked the idea of a no-touch rule. In fact, for some, that is one of the hottest boundaries.

I glanced down at this point, and was not surprised to see that he was, well, very interested in what I was saying. He was in a suit, so I could see his own cock, clearly defined, straining against the material of his pants. He saw me looking and looked a little embarassed.

By now, my fingers were dipping inside, feeling the wetness there.

So would you touch yourself for them?, he asked. Or would you just talk to them?

Again, I said, I though that would depend on what they wanted. He said that he would want me to touch myself.

How convenient, I said, because I already am...

I let the coat drop down my arm a bit, so he could see that it was moving rythmically, my clit was swollen and hard by this point, my breathing getting quicker.

The woman across the aisle looked over at this point, and I stopped. She turned back and I smiled at the guy. He whispered, keep going.

My hand started moving again, and he asked if he could touch me. I laughed and said, absolutely not! He actually couldn't touch himself either, because the woman was right there, so he could only watch.

I talked to him quickly now, and I won't tell you what I said to him, only that I could see a growing circle of precum on the outside of his pants. I asked him to tell me what he wanted to to with me, and... well... he told me. He was a bit violent, which I liked, though not so much that I felt scared.

The conductor walked by, announding the next stop, and I froze for a minute. Then I told him to look me right in the eye and that I was going to cum for him, and I didn't want him to take his eyes off of me. He talked me all the way through it, and I came so hard, I had to close my eyes for a minute.

He did take my hand for a minute after that, and brought my fingers to his mouth.

When we stopped, he gave me his number. He put his face very close to mine and said that he would absolutely pay to do something like that again.

I keep walking up to the line and not crossing it.