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A Coach Trip

A coach trip turns orgasmic
This was going to be my first coach trip for a long time. I was facing a three hour journey to London to spend a weekend with some old college girlfriends. These weekends happened every year and always tired me out. It was just two days of drinking, eating, dancing and laughing.

The queue was not too bad. An assortment of students, older people and 30 years olds like me taking advantage of the cheap prices to get to London for the weekend. The driver, who was loading the bags, seemed very nice and chatty.

I was dressed in a cream silk blouse and black skirt under my coat. I had come straight from the office to the coach station and felt happy I was dressed OK for dinner that night in a well known Italian near the Thames.

It was quite chilly outside but the coach was warm and I found a seat just past halfway. I was one of about fifteen passengers and very much in my own space. I sat next to the window and as we pulled out, took out my iPad to check some e-mails.

I slipped my shoes off and settled down in my seat, watching the world going home for the weekend as we started the journey eastwards.

This was so relaxing and I had time to get a good chunk of the book I was reading out of the way. It was a bog-standard chick-lit novel. Nothing fancy, just a good quick read.

We must have been on the road for about forty-five minutes when my mind started to wander back to my college days and the house I shared with Jill, Sally and Kate. We had such fun hosting parties and generally having a bit of a debauched time of it.

There were always lots of guys coming round and on a good night the whole house would be rocking as couples shagged themselves stupid. All of us got our fair share I have to say and very often we would discuss our conquests over dinner.

On these occasions it could get a bit embarrassing as fingers were pointed at each other, describing what people had heard and for how long. We were all pretty open about it and even shared masturbation secrets with each other.

I still shudder at the thought of getting caught by Jill one Sunday morning. I had spent the night alone but was woken up by the cries of pleasure coming from Katie’s room next door. Whatever she was doing sounded good and it wasn’t long before I had kicked the duvet back and began to stroke my clit while I squeezed my nipples hard.

Naturally I closed my eyes and I was hard at it when I heard a cough and saw Jill standing in front of me with a big grin on her face. I was right in the middle of coming and I couldn’t stop. It was one the best orgasms I’d ever had and she never let me forget it.

The thought of that was having an effect on my nipples which were now pressing against the inside of my blouse, making them hard and sending waves of pleasure down between my legs. It was making me squirm in my seat and no matter what I did I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I looked around me to see if anyone was close. There was a blonde girl sitting to my right but behind me and that was it. Could I do it here and now without anyone catching me? I was unsure and remembering my embarrassment all those years ago and decided no.

It was a valiant thought because every movement of the coach caused my already hard nipples to rub against my blouse. I could see them clearly as I looked down. I even undid another button on my blouse which allowed me to see my right breast and nipple moving with the coach.

This was beginning to drive me crazy. The feeling in my breast was becoming too much to bear and I could feel my pussy beginning to get damp inside my silk knickers. I started to shift my hips in an effort to get some relief, but it wasn’t enough. If only I had my jeans on so I could use the seam on my clit.

It was like this for another twenty minutes. I was trying to fight off the feelings and the thoughts in my head but could tell I was getting wetter and wetter by the mile. Oh fuck it I thought, there must be a solution.

I couldn’t pull my skirt up because anyone could see what I was doing. What happened if I put my coat on my lap. Nope that was too obvious. There was a loo on board but some dirty spotty student was sitting right out side it and I wasn’t sure I really fancied that to be honest.

I was also right handed so that ruled out some sort of quickie because of the blonde sitting behind me. She would be able to see my hand and know instantly what I was doing.

There was only one thing I could try. My skirt had pockets so I slipped my left hand into my pocket in what turned out to be a forlorn attempt to reach my pussy. The pockets were too small and I only succeeded in reaching my lower stomach. As nice as it was it wasn’t going to do the job.

Thinking hard I remembered I had some scissors in my handbag for emergency situations. That might do it I thought. I got them out, turned the pocket inside out and cut the bottom off.

As I placed my left hand in the pocket and pushed I felt my fingers touch my left hip bone before making a short journey inside the top of my knickers. I reached further down and found my clit, touching it once before running my fingers across my wet pussy lips. Shit that felt good and I had to bite my lip to avoid making a loud sigh that could be heard over the coach engine.

I had to do this as surreptitiously because normally I liked to fuck myself with two fingers while I rubbed my cit hard and fast. That was completely out of the question.

My solution was to place my index and middle fingers right on my clit and just press on it in a slow but steady rhythm. That way there would be no or little movement on the outside for anyone to catch sight of.

God that felt good. As I pressed I could feel the juices that had coated the inside of my knickers against my knuckles. Each time I pressed on my clit, a wave of pleasure surged through me. I wanted to come quickly but I knew I had to take my time to avoid attracting attention.

I parted my legs slightly just because I had to and continued that slow motion touching of my clit. I could tell my breathing had changed and my bottom lip was sore from the efforts to keep quiet.

The slowness of my touch was driving me crazy. Each small push on my clit brought me closer and closer to coming, even though it seemed a long way off. How I wished I could just lift my skirt, spread my legs and finger fuck myself to orgasm there and then.

As I continued the pressing motion, I realized my hips were beginning to move and my legs were beginning to shake. It was torture, a beautiful torture but still torture. I also realized I had raised both feet onto my toes with my heels in the air. This was a sure sign I was about come.

Slowly but surely I could feel the orgasm beginning to rise in my pussy, each gentle press bringing it closer and closer. My stomach muscles began to clench and my thighs were shaking more and more with each touch.

On and on went the slow pressing and nearer and nearer got the orgasm.

Suddenly I felt myself go over the edge as my whole body clenched against the feeling. I pressed hard on my clit as I rocked forward and left, my legs snapping against my hand as the full force rose up across my whole body, causing me to twitch and buck against my fingers.

I just lay there, hand on my pussy, breathing hard with my eyes closed. I had been quiet but thought I had probably given the game away by the violence of the orgasm.

Once I had recovered I sat up, trying to pretend nothing had happened and reached for my book. It was open but I wasn’t reading to be honest. I was still coming down off my orgasmic high.

I looked around. Everyone seemed still as they were and oblivious to my masturbation. Satisfied, I dropped off to sleep for the rest of the journey.

A tap on my shoulder woke me. It was the blonde girl who had been sitting behind me.

“Sorry to wake you but we just coming into Victoria and I though you’d prefer to be awake when we arrive. By the way I want you to know I saw you masturbating. I came too,” she said.

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