1. Tunnels, Tracks, and Trains


    Date: 2/21/2016, Categories: Hardcore, Author: Alexandra_A, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    'May I join you?' His bass voice turned me to chocolate. In the heat of his gaze, I melted, sank and soaked into the seat. Despite my professional exterior, my interior was a runny mess. Almost immediately he could have slid any part of himself into any part of me; I would have watched his limb's lascivious entry and would have sucked it clean on its dark and dripping egress. Though shockingly unaware of it, I must meanwhile have replied in the affirmative, as he thanked me before slotting his black attachė case into the overhead luggage rack. Tugging at the knees of his crisp grey suit, he elegantly became one with the plush seat directly opposite to me. The door slammed in response to a distant whistle and we began to move. His appraising glance unnerved me, caused my right leg to cross over my left knee, the resultant swinging high-heeled shoe beating time with my drumming heart. Lycra whispered to Lycra, my skirt rode up, and I prayed the tops of my charcoal hold-ups were not visible. Legs uncrossed, primly pressed together and, just to make sure, were clamped together by my well-manicured hands. In an attempt to appear unmoved, I picked at a turquoise nail then stared absently through the window at the shifting world beyond. Ears felt it first. Skin tingled. A whoosh then darkness. The rattling of tracks bounced back from enclosing walls. Lights flared. Now I saw myself in the glass. Dark-suited, white-bloused lawyer; blonde hair cut meticulously; face made-up perfectly. ...
    The canvas beneath the artwork had lost much of its elasticity, most of its smoothness, though the artist had become skilled enough to hide those sorry facts from all but the most intimate acquaintances. I chewed a lip. My searching tongue teased a morsel of breakfast from between my wisdom teeth. I needed to sort out that gap. Again I focussed on the glass. He was looking at me. I watched him meditate on my left shoe, saw him squat before me and remove it, hold it to his face and inhale. Now his hand was up my skirt, his other inside my blouse, while an improbable third wrapped itself in my shoulder-length hair and forced my mouth down into his groin. His flies were open; his cock fat and sleek. My slobbering jaw was all but broken by the force of his thrusts, the marauding meaty cock-head crushing my tongue and battering my tonsils. In frantic response, I grabbed and strangled his smooth, dangling scrotum and clawed at his clenched buttocks. Buttons ricocheted like bullets as my blouse tore open, scissoring fingers cut away my bra's resistance, and my slender upper torso was naked. Digits clipped onto my nipples and I screamed in pain, an essential agony that exactly suited the urgency of the moment. Crossing my legs again, I stimulated my swollen clit between a sensual combination of black lace and my own smooth slippery flesh. Incredibly, I started to cum. Ears again were the first to find out. Then the skin. Another whoosh. Brittle rails and dazzling sunlight. The image ...
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