1. Tunnels, Tracks, and Trains


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

    meat matured to perfection.' The man's reply was immediate. 'Personally, I prefer lamb to mutton any day of the week, and you certainly look like m...' 'Now just you listen!' The woman stood unsteadily on her too-high heels and straightened down her too-tight and too-short skirt. Her hair was streaked blonde and her skin bore an unnervingly unnatural tan. She swayed on planes the horizontally constrained train had no access to, and though it was barely 8.15am, it was obvious she had been drinking. 'Sex is not just about the visuals, sweetheart. Good lovers use all their senses.' After quickly looking her over, the man resigned her to the sexual scrap heap. 'And what? You consider yourself a good lover?' A pointed pink talon scribed across his Adam's apple and came to rest in the dimple in his chin. 'Listen, sonny, I've satisfied more men than you can count up to. Women too. Started when I was her age,' she cocked her head to the schoolgirl who was still exploring her oozing privates, 'and only stopped briefly to give birth.' He pushed away the finger and sniffed an acid laugh. 'Then I bet your cunt's like a fucking handbag.' I cringed. The woman calmly shrugged away the insult. 'Then you'd be wrong. Caesarians, both of 'em.' One hand tugged down at the waistband of her skirt while the other lifted her cheap black blouse. Beneath her overhanging belly was a scar almost as small and neat as my own. 'I'm well on my way to forty - won't lie about it - but I'm tight as I ever ...
    was.' He waved a hand and snarled dismissively. 'Fuck off!' She stepped into the narrow space between us, grabbed the luggage rack above his head with both hands and thrust her pelvis into his face. 'Go on then. Try it.' For long seconds, movement was absent, then I watched his palms slide slowly up the outside of her thighs, saw them forego the uniformity of nylon for the vagaries of cellulitic flesh before vanishing under a stretched curtain of black skirt. The milf arched her back, groaned loudly, and the hands returned south dragging a cargo of flimsy white lace. Once below her knees, the hands released and the knickers continued to Earth by gravity alone. Heels clicking, the woman stepped out of them and flamboyantly parted her legs. The hands slid once again under the curtain, this time choosing the inside track. Barring the constant rhythmic thrumming of metal wheels across rail-gaps, there was silence while we awaited his verdict. A single word expressed his amazement. 'Fuck!' She cackled. 'Fuck indeed. And I could break that finger if I chose. Now try two. Mmm. Go on. Deeper! Oh, yes. Yes! And a third. Hey, I said three - that feels more like four!' There was a pause, as if the man were counting. He was. 'Yes, yes, four.' 'Right then, lover. Now tuck in your thumb and shove up the whole fucking thing.' He sounded nonplussed. 'But you said...' Her long mane swayed as she wearily shook her head. 'I know what I said, and I wasn't lying: it's tight. It is. But I have ...
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