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Unreserved seating

After a hard day of meetings, I stepped on the train at York with a two and half hour journey back to London ahead of me. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself; the day had been long and productive but they'd be no more work today. No checking emails, no planning, just unwind on the train with the crossword and a couple of cans. My day had been going well but it was about to get a lot better.

I made my way to my reserved seat, at the very end of the carriage; where to my delight, I discovered I'd have a traveling companion. Mine was the aisle seat, next to which, sat a young woman in her early twenties. Tall, slender and slightly bookish with rich, long auburn hair hung loose and straight about her bespectacled face. She was wearing a simple, black polka dot dress that revealed more of her long thighs than it hid.

We exchanged polite smiles as I took my seat and made myself comfortable. She went back to her reading - some geographical textbook - while I unfolded my paper and made a start on the crossword. I'd bought a can of lager from the passing trolley, as I'd promised myself, and slowly ticked through the easiest clues. I was only occasionally distracted by my traveling companion shifting in her seat and tugging down the hem of her dress. An action that, to me, seemed to attract more attention than it prevented.

Doncaster went by, as did Retford. Then, after we'd departed from Newark she closed her book and bent down to go through her bag beside her feet. She put her book away and pulled out her laptop; placed it on her bare thighs and opened the lid.

She attempted, in vain, to access the wifi connection on the train. With a sigh and shake of her head she decided to play the computer at chess instead. Having completed what I could do on the crossword (and having seen off the contents of my can) I sat back and watched her briskly lose most of her key pieces and become trapped - despite numerous "undo moves".

She fiddled with the game's options, set it to the easiest level and tried again. She did a little better but still had a tendency to fail to act while her brave pawns met untimely deaths. She was about to leave her Queen the victim of a predatory Knight when I felt I had to step in.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you," I offered in a low tone.

"Och, don't watch me, I'm useless," a wide smile creeping across her face. Her nervous giggle giving an even more melodic quality to her highland accent.

I offered her an alternative move and went on to help her notch up her first victory on the game stats. We made small talk about each other's journeys and I discovered she was a PhD student heading back to her University in London from her family home near Inverness.

"You know you learn far more playing a real person than a computer - shall we play?" I asked.

"Sure, but you mustn't feel like you have to go easy on me," she insisted.

To which I replied, "Don't worry about that, I'm not that nice."

She flashed her broad smile towards me again and I noticed a pinkish tinge begin to embellish her dimpled cheeks. "I'll be black, I prefer to react to my opponents moves."

I reached across and used the mouse-pad to move my white King's pawn forward two squares - start her education with the classics, I thought. The movement of my hand so close above the top of her thighs made my heart beat harder. 

The game went on - move and counter move. Occasionally I'd offer a pointer but she was already growing in confidence. Every time my hand passed over to make a move I could sense her breathing a little harder too.

"So how do I improve my game then?" she asked.

"I think your only problem is your play is too timid; you could do better if you were a little more aggressive with your moves - give your opponent something to think about," I offered.

"Story of my life," she lamented. "Ok, let's try this then." Her delicate finger tapped and stroked the mouse-pad, moving her Queen across the board into the thick of the action. "Oh look, Check!" she said with genuine surprise.

I leaned just a inch closer towards her, ostensibly for a better view of the screen. "My next move could be quite dangerous," I mused.

To which she lowered her voice and replied, "I guess you won't know until you make it."

My hand hovered over her lap, my fingers making small movements in the air mimicking the possible moves I could make next. I could feel her warmth in the air under my hand.

I lowered my hand but instead of the mouse-pad I moved it to the hem of her dress, slowly slipping it up her smooth thighs until I'd exposed her underwear. She released an audible gasp as my fingertips started to stroke her through her dark panties. Her legs began to part as my finger slide along her covered slit - I could already feel her wetness soaking through.

She put her head back and tilted it towards me. Her mouth slightly open, she looked into my eyes over her thick rimmed glasses. Her emerald irises, almost entirely taken over my her deep black pupils.

I tugged her panties aside and allowed my fingers to trace along the folds of her pussy, parting them just enough to uncover her swelling clit - her whole body reacting as the cool air hit it.

My middle finger eased between her pussylips, just to the first knuckle. Dipping slowly in and out. Then deeper, to run across the soft pad inside just behind her clit. Her breathing was short and sharp. She bit on her lower lip to try to stop the murmers of pleasure she was releasing from becoming too loud.

I pushed a second finger inside her, while my thumb started to gently tease her clit. She began to rotate her hips - grinding against me. She was so soaked and responding to every tiny movement.

My long fingers reaching deep inside her, my arm across her body holding her to her seat as her body juddered and writhed - moving in waves. Her eyes going between half and a quarter closed each time she took a fast, sharp breath.

Every time I felt her getting close to tipping over the edge, I'd slow it down again - until I decided the time was right. This time I didn't slow down - my fingers kept twisting and probing while my thumb stroked rhythmically. Her chest rose as if being pulled upwards. Then she released.

Her fists clenched around the end of the armrests, her thighs snapped closed around my hand. She threw her head forward and gave a low moan of delight.

One last sigh from her as I slipped my hand free. My fingers glistening from her - I licked the tips to savour the moment. She lay back in her seat and whispered a timid, breathless "thank you" as she readjusted her dress.

We said nothing more for the remaining twenty or so minutes of the journey, until we pulled into Kings Cross, I helped her with her luggage off the train and we said our goodbyes.

I'm so glad I decided not to drive.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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