We love train journeys. It is the relaxation of sitting together, watching the fields, trees and occasional houses go past. And watching the other passengers. Trying to work out what they are reading. Trying to imagine what they are thinking.
It was hot day. Indeed it had been hot for as many weeks as anyone could remember. Across the aisle was a young lady, mid 20s at a guess. She was wearing a loose white top. Well it was loose around the waist but not quite so loose around her breasts and in the heat her nipples were clearly visible pressing against the fabric. At least they were clearly visible if you paid enough attention. Her skirt was also white, though with a pale blue coloured band at the base. And quite short. Though I would have loved it if it were shorter still. Bare legs. White ankle socks. Light blue trainers.
You looked at me looking at her. And you smiled.
Let me introduce Charlz. Charlz is my gorgeous, naughty and sexy partner. I am Pete. One day we will tell you how we met. For now I should just let you know that the more outrageous the scenario, the more we love it. We were on the train together. For the purpose of this story, you, the reader, are Charlz. As you read on, let your imagination take you into your role.
The young lady was looking out of the window. Then as if aware of my eyes gently devouring her at a distance, she turned and looked at us.
You turn to me. Our lips meet. I can see that look in your eyes. A look of wanton encouragement.
I turn my eyes back to our lady in white across the aisle. She is still looking at us. Probably trying to work out what we are thinking. Our eyes lock together. Still looking at her I take my right hand and place it slowly and deliberately on your bare knee. I see a slight flicker of question across her eyes. Then I slide my hand up your leg to the hem of your skirt, and push it up. Just an inch, no more. Not enough to reveal anything. But more than enough to signal an intention.
The young lady averts her gaze. I mean by that she looks out of the window again. But I suspect in her mind she was "averting her gaze" - a natural reaction to a slight embarrassment. A sense that perhaps she shouldn't be looking at me. A slight unease perhaps.