Train of Thought
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Train of Thought
I’m sorry for breaking the rules but there was no other way.
Maeve lingered on the words on the screen of her iPhone; read the text message one last time before she blotted it from view. She put the infernal contraption, that intruded upon every waking moment, or so it seemed, into the neat shoulder bag that lay on the seat beside her. She crossed her legs and sat back; fingered the large baubles of her necklace and, for an instant, caught sight of her reflection in the window. She had still dressed up for the evening in her discreet, leopard print dress, the pattern not overbearing; brushed back her short, starkly blonde hair from a thoughtful face and was relieved that the choice of the lightest blush of makeup had pepped up her spirits.
Josh, her man, would no doubt be saying to himself, ‘what were you thinking of? It’s your birthday! Why did you go to that show all by yourself?’
Well, she knew the answer only too well, although it failed to fully explain her decision to travel into London and see a show, even if it was her birthday. Josh had been unavoidably detained on a project that was nearing its closing phases. Even a planned evening together, and the tickets paid for, had ben of no use in persuading him to accompany her.
She had rushed to catch the train back home, reflecting on an enjoyable evening out, one that she had looked forward to immensely and that she thought would not be diminished by being alone. But, now, as the train jerked into motion and gathered speed, rattled over the points and took to its chosen route, she was no longer sure. She might even be feeling a little lonely, and down, in spite of being no stranger to the journey.
The circumstances were quite new, however, and she chose not to dwell on it if she possibly could. An evening out, alone, would soon be followed by a late evening on her own and at home. There was no knowing when Josh would return.
‘I usually see you on a morning train,’ she heard a man’s cultured voice say, and Maeve glanced up.
The look of his eyes upon her needed no words. He approved of her appearance and she felt flattered, even in the circumstances. She had sensed a moment’s discreet glance her way across the space that separated them; he siting across the aisle from her place, his back against the direction of travel. Unless she moved, she would be obliged to look at him or feel awkward.
Maeve wondered why she should be so concerned on that point.
The man, though older than her by some years, took care of himself; he was lean and distinguished; a far cry from so many she met on this particular journey when she took it. His craggy features, slender nose, bushy eyebrows and glint of blue eyes were all of a piece with closely cropped sandy brown hair that was white at the temples. Not a strand was out of place.
‘I’ve been to the theatre…a sudden change of plans that weren’t my doing,’ she chose to confess.
Maeve looked away after the briefest of smiles at him and caught once more her reflection in the window. The soft rumble of the wheels on the track could just be heard.
She blushed on seeing that he chooses to move and sit not so far away from her and attempt small talk.
‘Hope you don’t mind…pass the time chatting? I’m off for a week’s sailing and stayed late at the office to tie up the last of loose ends. My secretary’s doing the same…’ Maeve wonders if the lucky woman is going with him, but she thinks against it soon enough. ‘It’ll be an uncomplicated week on my own…’
‘Tonight’s bahis siteleri been an exception to my rules…’
‘I can imagine that’s so,’ he smiles. ‘I learnt the ways of it in the military…and I now carry it through out of habit.’
That explains it, Maeve thought.
The man’s smartly dressed and still brawny from a hard life on the go. She feels a surprising rush of interest in him; thinks it utterly bizarre, but to be engaged with him is to pass the time. She’s doled up for a night out and he looks as he would always do. They might even be mistaken for a couple, now that they’re seated not so far from each other on the hard, velour covered seats, polished smooth by uncountable people as they to-and-fro to work, and everything else besides.
‘They can be infernally unreliable sometimes,’ he mutters as the train slows and trundles along the track; the distant neon streetlights casting a glare on the trees and isolated houses along the road that they pass.
‘I’m not too bothered,’ she replies, touching the colourful baubles of her necklace as she meets another look upon her. ‘It’s a birthday evening with a difference…’
‘I stopped counting them…’ he smiles, stretching his legs out before him. She notes polished shoes, the neat tying of their laces; wonders what he makes of her, a youngish woman willing to pass the time by talking.
‘I deal in loss adjusting…my names James Arthurton…by the way.’
‘Hello, you’ve given me a name to a face the next time we meet when commuting…’ she smiles, hesitating for only an instant. She’s wrapped up in him now and his confident ways of it. ‘My name’s Maeve Clark…I kept my birth name even after I married. It saved a lot of hassle…’
She glances around; others in the carriage are far enough away not to take in what the speak of in their halting exchanges. Maeve turns in her seat to be able to look more directly at him; feels the skirt of her dress ride up, slightly, but chooses not to be bothered by how that might look.
James seems not to notice but chatters away now, looking for a reaction from her that serves as a guide whether to stop or continue. She feels involved with him;
James has taken her mind off how the evening came about.
He stifles a curse; she yelps out in dismay as the train lurches over some points and then comes to a sudden, shuddering and unscheduled stop.
‘Forgive me…sorry, Maeve,’ he says as James bumps against her and has instinctively put an arm out to protect her, and before his hand drops to his side, but brushes her knee.
‘It’s okay,’ she hears herself answer and looks down at his hand, a small signet ring on his pinky.
Maeve takes to imagining how it would feel to have that hand, both of them even, on her skin, between her legs and caressing her thighs. She imagines that an older guy would know it all; that his touches to her thighs and between them will move to her spot; that were it to happen she really wouldn’t choose to be a good girl.
‘The evening’s getting to be whole lot longer,’ he murmurs, looking her way and she just drinks in that look in his eyes upon her; feels again the rush of forbidden and craven longing.
It’s my birthday; I’ve been alone on a night out; now an attractive guy is coming on to me in his restrained ways of it, purposefully or not. I too can do what I want.
She smiles at him; hums a tune that has risen up from nowhere. ‘We’re company…’
‘True, but you didn’t hear that sung tonight,’ James laughs out and she feels his touch canlı bahis siteleri again. ‘We’re just a couple of swells…’ he sings in a deep baritone that seems to fill the compartment with sound.
‘Shush!’ she laughs out, her grip stilling his touches. ‘That’s enough…’
He’s really looking at her now and she gives a soft smile in acknowledgement of the small act that has passed between them and has set her pulse racing. It’s crazy what she now feels for an attractive stranger and what he has aroused in her. It simply cannot go further…
‘My turn,’ she murmured and pulled James close; hesitated for only an instant before their mouths meet in a hungry kiss that deepens as his hand progresses certainly to where she has ached for it to be.
‘You…you shouldn’t be alone,’ he snorts. Her lips and then probing tongue perform a choice repertoire in his mouth. They shift on the seat to be out of view and soon exchange fiery hungering kisses.
‘And this is crazy,’ she groans, shivering as his touches find her; inflame her senses and break all boundaries or remaining restraint. Maeve gushes; she breaks free. ‘In the corridor…follow me.’
There, his hands are all over her. She’s pushed up hard against the wall of the darkened space and his hands grip her buttocks; pull at the hem of her dress and caress the soft skin of her legs and the soft places of her thighs. His kisses are wild and deep; she responds; squeezes the hard swell in his trousers and pushes down onto it.
‘There’s time,’ he gasps as Maeve squeezes on him. ‘An impulse fuck with a beautiful woman…’
‘An impulse fuck with a horny older man…’ she gasps as he presses his fingers to her wet spot and she shudders.
James breathes heavily against her mouth as Maeve finds him; helps to unzip his trousers and pull his prick free; strokes it; finds the man’s heat and shivers at what James will bring to her. She feels as if her head is spinning; her lust to know of him and to have James fill her, overcoming all reason and restraint.
‘There’s no time,’ she gasps against his mouth as he seeks to bend down and lick her out.
She works him with her hands; up and down that trembling shaft; shifts as he lifts her to kiss the breath out of her; as he clamps her thigh around his waist and…and thrusts into her with slow sinuous movements of his broad hips. Maeve feels impaled on him.
‘Fuck me…fuck me!’ she gasps as he raises and lowers her on him; feels his pricks caress the sides of her opening and pass so deep into her only too willing body. She cannot clamp on him as she would do; but that is of no concern; he’s in her and she’ll know of it all; the bursting of the man and the searing, jetting pulses of release and the heat of his cum deep within her.
It’s unsafe and unprotected sex with an accomplished stranger; a lover on a train that has her shuddering and gasping for air; a man who pays no attention to the tumble of her breasts so achingly firm under the thin skein of fabric that is her dress and that flatters her so.
She’s pushed down onto him; meets the searing push of that hard flesh and shudders as he lets it all go. It doesn’t seem to end, the flooding of her and that she soon feels it all slick her hot and slippery thighs.
The train moves and then comes to a stop. The tannoy announces their arrival at the station she will leave the train at. Her impulse fuck, her impalement on that man is at an end and so is her moment’s aberrant reverie.
‘My stop, James…thank you for keeping me canlı bahis company,’ Maeve smiles as she moves away from him and makes for the doors that will soon open on a swish of hydraulic air. She had almost missed it in her cock-filled daze.
‘It’s mine too, as it happens. Can I give you a lift home?’
‘That would be a help. I don’t like taking a taxi so late in the evening…’
‘Then I’ll be your escort…’
Maeve smiles. She cannot keep from clutching for his hand; remembers what she learnt of him and what that hand had done to bring her on; how he had lifted her onto his plumbing and pleasing flesh.
James leads her to his car and, while he searches for the key fob, she takes control of him; aberrant thoughts and reality again become one.
‘Make the evening last for me,’ she asks, pressing up hard against him and meeting his kisses. He slides his hands under her ass and lifts Maeve up against him; the touch of his hands on her bare thighs arouses shudders of renewed longing once more.
‘Here?’ she gasps as James tugs open the passenger side door and lowers her onto the seat; her legs are spread and she feels him fumble at his trousers.
‘Yes, here. Another impulse fuck as we have both thought of it and hoping it might just happen…again.’
‘Yes…now bring it to me,’ she asks hoarsely.
She obligingly spreads her legs, meets his kisses and squirms; raises her hips from the seat just enough to feel the man take her; his entry slow and deliberate; then, the fury of his passion takes her; Maeve grabs at his hair and moans loudly, not caring if anyone hears them. The corner of the car park is darker than the rest of the derelict site; the neon light’s glare beyond them.
‘Let it go!’ she gasps, clinging to him as her body convulses in her orgasm and the unconfined joy of what he brings spurts into her once more. She quivers at the virility of the man; his certain and feverishly loving ways.
‘You wonder…you wonderful, brazen and willing wonder. You’ve made this a night like no other…for me…for us both, I hope?’
She nods, feels him ease out of her and considerately pull down the skirt of her dress. He sees to himself; jerks a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wipes at his still swollen flesh before it is lost to her sight.
‘It will be difficult to see you when I meet you on the train,’ she tells him.
He had fucked her like a man possessed; a maniac. She’d loved it; the pounding of his hips like she had never known before; the soaring unreality that she had enjoyed it all with him. James had not licked her out or tweaked her nipples; he’d just filled her and done it in his own amorous ways. She felt sublimely lost and satisfied.
Maeve looks across the small space between them as he sits down in the driver’s seat. He is thoughtful and deliberate as the car slowly moves off.
‘Say something?’ she asks. ‘You’ve taken me out of all that is normal for me. It’s also my birthday and you’ve made it like no other.’
James has seen her shy smile; seen also the wobble on her lovely lips. He puts his hand on the bare skin of her thigh and feels her fingers grip it. Maeve does not still the progress of his touches.
‘I’ll…I’ll want to see you again…’ she tells him; twisting in her seat to look his way and make his caresses easier to accomplish once more.
‘It will have to keep until I get back from holiday, Maeve. If I had been told of it, I would have made sure to bring you a present.’
‘You have…and it’s been a wonderful surprise. It’s been a journey for me like no other.’
James felt Maeve’s lips tremble as he leant over to kiss her as the car was slowed to a stop at some traffic lights.
‘Happy birthday Maeve. Now, where’s your home?’
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