1. Grown Ups


    Date: 7/8/2016, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: GoBigCatGo, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    The girl twisted a foot, and seemed very close to climax, judging by invisible, seismic tremors that ran through her body. Her fingers rubbed a little circle at Helen’s bits, making her want to squeal in delight. This young punk definitely had some experience with girls, given the confidence of her movements, not to mention how much she seemed to enjoy the feeling of Helen in her hand. Then, as if to prove the point, the girl slid it boldly down the front of her knickers. Helen squeaked, quickly pretending it was a sneeze. For a moment, the hand cupped her, gently squeezing, hot and soft and demanding. Then Helen’s knees wobbled as the girl explored her, fingers dipping inside and slipperily tickling her clit. Her eyelids drooped. The girl muttered something in a language she didn’t understand but Helen whispered simply, “Yes.” Then the door right beside them opened. In their fever, they hadn’t noticed pulling into station with a platform on their side. The suddenly opened door revealed a woman waiting to get on the train. Helen froze. The girl froze. They stared coolly at the woman as if this was a normal, everyday thing on the tube. Playing with a fellow commuter’s genitalia. The woman huffed, shook her head, and walked off to another door. Helen and the girl tittered as the doors closed again. Helen gently held the girl’s hand in place, but she wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, the shock had worked her up even more. She quickened her rubbing, and it became less ...
    directed, almost frenzied. She made tiny, barely held yelps and ground hard at Helen’s leg. Helen curled one of the girl’s fingers up inside her. It pushed and wriggled. Warm waves gathered and spread across her abdomen, she was close and this was a biggie. She clenched her hole on the girl’s probing, and was rewarded with another finger inside her, the thumb ring pleasingly cold and hard on her clit. Helen braced herself as her knees quaked and her climax bloomed. With a cry locked behind sucked-in lips, the girl spasmed. Her digging fingers stiffened. Her eyes screwed shut and – stopping Helen’s own orgasm in its tracks – a tear rolled down her cheek. Helen melted. She stroked the girl’s arm as she shuddered and wrenched little gasps and the punkette’s – obviously much needed – release became her own rush of pride. Helen brimmed with delight that she should give a random stranger such relief, but more than that, the unexploded bomb of own climax simply glowed inside her, its power retained. It made her feel… new. No. Grown up. When the girl finished, she shakily removed her hand from between Helen’s legs and palmed the tear from her cheek. Helen leant to catch her eye but she sniffed and turned away. The train rolled into a station, the punk stood, and slid past her; clearly, she’d had enough room to move all along. Cheeky cow! Nevertheless, with all her heart, Helen hoped the girl had got what she needed. “THIS TRAIN TERMINATES HERE” Someone squeezed her bum. “This is us, babe,” ...
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