Train Me Please

I was thinking about the rocking and the rhythm of the movement of the train.

And you.

Wishing that you were there, protective arm around me, with me resting my head on your chest, listening to your heart. One of my small hands is engulfed in your strong, large, calloused hand draped across my shoulder, holding our hands over my sternum with a bit of pressure. I can feel my own heartbeat too. My other hand is stroking your muscular thigh. Innocently. Initially unaware that my soft, French-manicured hand was drifting...

I smile up at you; my anchor and wings and see that you are pleased with the adoration and devotion you can clearly see in my hazel eyes.

We have the carriage uncommonly to ourselves.

"Princess your hand is hungry to feel me isn't it?"
I become aware that I am indeed tracing the shape of your amazing growing errection. I am startled and freeze. Unsure.
"Princess, continue. I want you."
How I love hearing you say that. You know my struggles with worth and insecurities.
Desire flares in me and I have no other conscience thought than how much I need you and want you.

I watch my hand glide, trace, map the denim sculpture of your hard-on. It looks so beautifully erotic, my little hand exploring your large bulge.
My breathing quickens, I squish my thighs together and lick my lips. You register all this in a nanosecond. You still my explorations. I look up at you alarmed and pouty. You chuckle at the mix and undo your belt with slow deliberateness.

I watch in fascination. Once removed, you fold it onto itself and bend and snap it, to make a crisp crack. My eyes dilate. You tenderly place it over my shoulders and move each length of the strap over my nipples that are evident, even though my pale musk pink jumper and bra. I close my eyes and my head falls back and my breasts move closer.

"Princess open your eyes"
I do and you cup my breasts taking their weight and then releasing them. I enjoy the freefall. Cupping them again, you use your strong thumbs to graze and trace my nipples. I let out a little mewing breath. I could just purrr...
Swiftly you pinch each nipple hard then soothe them with your thumb. The unpredictable switch between pure pleasure and pleasurable pain is exquisite.

Your hands leave me. I feel the loss to my core. You expertly unbutton, unzip and release your magnificent manhood. A shot of pure desire goes straight from my heart to my pussy. You thread the belt and position it as a collar and shift the surplus to lay on my back. Gravity holds it in place. I smell the leather and feel its malleable hardness. I like it.

"Stand Princess"
I'm not sure I can. I'm not sure I have legs. I can only feel the yearning, the craving, the need.
You help me to my feet and place my hands on your shoulders, my anchor. Smoothly run your hands over my clingy, mermaid cut, long, black skirt; hips first, around to my big bottom with ample cheek escaping the Brazilian cut panties. Down my thighs, noting I am wearing stay up stockings, down to my ankles to the hem of my dress.
You have a sweet smile as you gaze at my pretty pink toes.

Your hands retrace their path in reverse under my skirt; silky stockings, petal soft skin, lacy panties you realise, round cheeks. You squeeze and pull me to you. You lean down and breathe my heat in. I run my hands through your hair, weak kneed, delierious with wanting. I feel your breath.
I need you.
You move one hand to cradle my pussy and use your thumb with precision, to apply pressure to my clit.

Your mouth is on a nipple and I can feel your warmth through the layers, devine. My panties are soaked through. You swiftly pull them down and bring then to your face inhaling my raw desire for you. You show me the saturated gusset and with relish lap at it and then suck my on my, soaked with desire for you, black lace panties. You have one hand on my hip holding me safe. The other running your finger though the small heart shaped patch of hair on my mound. You enjoy my custom wax. The combination of smooth and natural. The heart use to symbolise my journey to accepting my sensuality and shape. Now it is our connection.

You strategically skip my clit and run two strong rough fingers delicately along my silky saturated lips. I clutch at your shoulders and instantly part my legs.
I'm yours.
You slowly trace, tease, dip, retract, repeat. I am lost in your attention.
You are the King of seduction.

Before I even register, you have easily lifted my skirt and in one swift, expert motion, lifted me onto your lap and have impaled me with your amazing cock. My slick pussy still needs to stretch to accommodate it.

At first, we match the train's movement and then morph it to our own.
Building our desire and need.
Bringing ourselves to that threshold just before the point of no return.
And using the the discipline you have taught me to your,

"Stay gold Princess"
Code to pause our sensual rhythm. To edge and savour that moment of Goldilocks bliss. To disengage if needed.

And then you tell me to remain still and only kiss you.
I channel all all my appreciation, longing and lust. Into a sensuous kiss that grows with passion to raw hunger for you.

You tell me to listen to my need for you. Embrace it. Feel the impatience.

"Princess, it shows a deep lust, a carnal desire for what will soon be awarded to you..."

The sweet torture of being so near, so ready...
You are the Master and maestro of my sensuality.

"Dream Princess."
And I do. I fantasise...
I'd be running my nails through your hair.
You would be licking and sucking my so hard -for you- nipples and with handfuls of my butt, your magnificent hard, for me, on seeking my heat.
I'd look into your beautiful eyes, rub my clit against your silky steel and drive us crazier.
I would angle myself to let you back in. Just your sensitive sexy tip.
I would reach down and stroke you into me, making sure I brush myself too.

I become aware that once again, my body is moving in its
pure
authentic
organic
form and I had transferred my dream into reality.

"Stay gold Princess"
you command again. The battle is overwhelming, I am shaking. Molten.
As always, you easily read me and know.

"Breathe 3 Princess."
I look deeply into your eyes to tether myself to your strength and control.
I mirror your 3 controlled breaths. You are my true North. Centre myself. Ready.

You place your hand on my heart, and mine on yours.
Connecting.
Eyes locked.
Bonded.
You guide me to lower myself back onto you.
Returning exquisitely slowly.
The delicious torture a millimetre at a time.
Finally I am are where I belong.
Where I feel complete.
You are so deep.
Filling.
Home.

I feel you flex inside me.
I am set aflame again.
I contract and gather, pulling you in to me even further.

And we begin again, matching the rhythm of the train until our own catches and we are driven with all our stored longing and passion.
Harder,
Faster,
impossibly deeper,
until we are
not you,
not me,
we are us
one being
spiralling together towards the apex of our primal passion.

You groan with such pure lust and love. It triggers me and I detonate.
Wave after wave of devine, beautiful pleasure.
You feel every spasm, gripping, fusing.
The caveman in your DNA demands
claim
seed
own

Igniting your climax so
strong,
intense and
powerful.
Coming from a new place, on a different level than known possible.

I feel it too, pulsating through me the frisson of essence and pure energy.

Together,
locked
we savour our ectasy and connection and hold each other exhausted and energised by the waves of our passion as they ebb and we become aware again of the train's rhymic movement.

We reconnect ouselves with the physical world again. Note we have indeed missed our stop and will enjoy the return journey.

Taking the cocoon of time to review and reflect on our union. I like to use my senses to capture the highlights of the experience...

Bright, clear beam of the overhead lights in stark contrast to the silhouette montage passing outside
Swish and rhythmic e erm, e erm, e erms made by the gaps in the rail to allow for thermal expansion
The taste of the story of our evening; shared dinner of margarita pizza, 5 shillings Henschke and our delicious passion with the hint of my desire for you,
transferred from me,
to you,
back to me in that phenomenal kiss
Smell of my perfume mixed with your earthy masculine natural scent and the our musky love making
Worn softness of the primary coloured, check pattern, of the firm, sturdy bench seats.
Sitting in sublime comfort knowing I am with my guardian angel; protected, guided, appreciated, treasured, loved.
I surrender.
I am free.

As we gather our things to get off, I happen to notice the sign

*"For your protection
Adelaide Metro uses
CCTV
on all commuter trains"*

As I have all the protection I need, I hope they enjoyed the show.

?? It was just a daydream, wasn't it... ??