"What had she done?" Her conscience scolded her. She boarded and sat in a twin seat at the back of the night train to her stop. It was another hour away yet and then a further 15 minute walk to her home. A home where her husband and children were and the family dog.
The carriage was empty and nothing could be heard except for the rhythmic engine and wheels of the train as it began its journey and picked up speed along the track. Outside it began to rain, pattering against the window. She could see her reflection as the light inside caused the world outside to become jet black.
She was an attractive woman in her 30's, well dressed in a pale pink blouse, knee high black pencil skirt, black 1" heeled shoes and a calf length black coat. She looked like a professional business woman with her shoulder length neatly styled blonde hair.
She leaned her head against the cool of the window. It began to slowly steam up from the heat of her body. She welcomed the cold against her flushed forehead and cheek and ground her head against the pane.
She should be ashamed. She should be appalled at her behaviour but she wasn't. She was excited, she felt alive and a small secretive, Mona Lisa smile broke out on her lips. She bit on her lower lip trying to feel bad but she knew she wouldn't. She would think of him, think of what he said, think of what he did, think of how she responded to him and her body flushed again in response to her attraction of him.
She looked around wondering if she looked different, wondering if she looked like a fallen woman, wondering if anyone could tell. She made sure no one was about and settled again in her seat relieved and leaned against the window. No one was about, no one could see her in heat. Because that is exactly what she was - a woman in heat.
She was totally alone in the carriage, hidden almost by the twin seat in front of her and for that she was grateful. Alone with her thoughts, she stared out the window, unseeing into the inky blackness outside.
The train moved her feverish body rhythmically in her seat. She found the gentle rocking from side to side strangely erotic and shut her eyes while she remembered what she had done.
She had met him about six weeks ago in a coffee shop.
At first he sat at her table. The place had been busy and there was nowhere else for him to put his coffee cup with the books he was holding. He was polite of course and asked her permission first. She of course was polite back and nodded her head, absorbed in a book she was reading. He made polite conversation and flirted mildly and she responded finding she enjoyed his attention. He was very attractive. Tall, dark and handsome with chocolate brown eyes and long dark lashes with a sexy breathy accent that reminded her of Antonio Banderas in the film "Zorro".
That first encounter led to them meeting again a few times by accident at the same coffee shop and eventually by casual arrangement each lunch time. If they were there at the same time, they would sit together.
Both worked not far away. She worked mornings in a bookshop and always had a coffee to kill time, before catching the train home. He was a lawyer but sometimes had afternoons free from clients.
Then one day, the coffee shop was full and as her train wasn't due yet, he invited her to his penthouse suite. She hesitated but allowed him to persuade her. She was bowled over by the beautifully decorated home. The colour schemes were shades of beiges, reds, browns and yellows that were in keeping with a professional and successful man. It reminded her of autumn colours.
The high rise apartment looked out on the skyline of the city and the view was stunning against the blue sky.
Inside, the ceiling had wooden oak beams and a loft conversation that could be used when needed. There was a beige, comfortable and luxurious settee that could easily convert into a bed, should he wish.
The lighting hung from the ceiling and was supported by soft spot lights embedded in to the beams. It screamed luxury and expense.
His kitchen was open plan and was black, white and chrome. Adequate for all his needs.
He made their coffee and explained it was his business home for when he worked late. He actually lived elsewhere but found it useful for work.
Again he flirted mildly and would gently touch her as they chatted. He made her feel attractive and interesting. They began to meet more and more often at his penthouse, rather than the coffee shop and then one day, he kissed her. She tried to push him away but he knew it was half hearted.
He took hold of her hands and held them firmly behind her back. He plundered her mouth while one hand moved slowly back, up around her body and fondled both her breasts. His tongue invaded her mouth as he squeezed her breasts. She moaned and eventually responded to him. Then he broke the kiss, pushing her back by his hand still on her tit so she was pinned against the wall and him.
He bought his other hand to her other breast, kneading both over her blouse watching her cheeks flush in embarrassment as he enjoyed her. "You are beautiful," he murmured.
He felt her some more. "Open your blouse, show me your tits," he said softly in his sexy accent.
"What! No, no," she said shocked.
"Yes, yes." He smiled, "I know you want me to see them, I know you are turned on right now." He leaned in closer, "I know that you are wet between your legs. Show me your tits or I will take your panties off and you will have to go home without them."
She felt flushed with embarrassment but was excited too and deep down, she wanted him to see her. The thought of going home pantie-less was unthinkable. With trembling fingers she opened the buttons on her blouse one by one as he stood watching her until her blouse hung loosely on her shoulders.
She was wearing a front fastening bra. He inspected it and told her, "Open it"
She did as he said. She felt empowered when she heard his sharp intake of breath. Her breasts fell free, fully rounded, nipples peaked and naked to his gaze. "Beautiful," he murmured
He slowly bought his hands up and felt her thoroughly. She had never been so turned on in her life as he worshipped her tits, making her feel desired. He groped and squeezed and massaged and suckled her until she cradled his head to her.
Then she came to her senses and pushed him away and ran, rushing through the door to get away. His seductive laughter followed in her wake as she fastened up to become the respectable woman again.
That's all they did, the first time. She should have ended it there, but she didn't. She felt compelled to see him, was fascinated by him and enjoyed the feeling of being desired.
Groping her breasts became part of the coffee ritual as did the stolen kisses.
*****
Her head bumped on the window bringing her out of her reverie and she ground her head on the window again, smudging the condensation and feeling the coolness. It was a feeble attempt to quell the heat that rose within her.
She found her arm had slipped into the waist band of her skirt, her hand had delved down and inside her panties, teasing the wet folds of her sex.
"God, what was she doing, touching herself on a train?" her conscience tried to admonish her, but she knew she was incapable of stopping now and her fingers rebelliously sought the protective hood that hid her clitoris. She circled it with her wet middle finger. It felt too good.
