The Wrong Choice I was sitting in the railway waiting room on a cold winter night, wondering which sin of my last life had cursed my commonsense so I had to make a series of wrong choiceswhich had condemned me to spending the night in a deserted station 100 kilometres from the nearest town. A tiny voice in my mind told me I was lucky too, if I hadn't been I wouldn't have gotten tickets to the next train in the morning, which would take me to the nearest outpost of civilization.
And to think all this to meet a friend who worked in the forest service. Ah well! Sipping my ultradiluted tea, I arranged my two piece luggage under the chair and decided it would be good to take a nap while waiting. It was hardly 7 in the evening, and the train was at 6 30 in the morning. I had serious doubts if my muscles would cooperate after a night in the chilly single tubelight dingy room. And then there were the security fears. On a normal day my 6'3 90kg frame could fend off the odd thug or two, and I had a licensed revolver if things came to that, but in my innermost soul I knew I'd be hard pressed to fend myself against a gang with my body as chilled as it was.
Sighing, I closed my eyes, trying not to touch the dingy wall. The shadows were the same when I woke up, the sun having set an hour before I entered the station and the dust on the tubelight ensuring the lighting was as dismal as could be. As I willed my body to moveI noticed that I had company.
A woman. Dressed rather fashionably in a full length skirt with stockings showing underneath, and a sweater on the rather slim torso (from what I could make out). Her face was obscured by a novel, but overall she didn't seem older than 30. Just as I was trying to make out her features, she lowered the novel and looked straight at me. Pretty face, medium hair, minimum makeup.
A reporter I presumed; which other specimen of the fairer race would land up in an abandoned station at this hour ? Or maybe some NGO worker visiting the villages.
What was certain was that she, like me, hadn't chosen this hour to be at this place, and if possible, was even more out of place than I was. I met her gaze with a smile, exposing my white teeth in a disarming gesture. She rewarded me by standing up, proving to be a rather short figure. More importantly, her tits were expressed in better relief, and as she made her way towards me, I realized she must be alteast a B cup.
She advanced till my entire vision was filled by the bulge on her chest, then suddenly lowered herself beside me, causing the chair to creak and making the guard outside peer in interestedly. Having satisfied the guard's curiosity, I turned to her, rather surprised at her rather bold decision.
Returning the smile, she asked me if I too was going in the same direction as she was. I answered trains in the opposite direction weren't due till late afternoon the next day.
This, said in my friendlist manner, made her laugh; I congratulated myself for a conversation well begun. The guard again looked in, causing her to close her mouth and I again had to give a broad "All is well" smile to make him look away. "So, um, if I may ask, what brought you to this deserted station ?" I lobbed the question back at her, causing her to laugh again, more mutedly this time.
"As you may have guessed, I work with an NGO, which works with village women. A special case made me stay back and there were no trains available. So." I nodded. I explained how a generous dose of whisky had left me playing cards a little too long at the forest guest house.
Why didn't I return and come back the next morning ? Well, I'd asked the driver who brought me here to go back, and didn't want to impose further on my friend's hospitality. She found her own story to be quite similar, and we soon had a good conversation going, to the accompaniment of cold tea and equally cold samosas, which I purchased from the lone vendor on the platform.
As the glasses emptied, she became more informal, talk shifting from her NGO and my newspaper company to our college days. I learnt that she'd been educated partly in the States, before shifting to India after her father retired and returned to India.
She had been working for around six months and was quite new to the rural scene. In fact, she knew precious little about the area beyond what her NGO head had told her. Strangely though, her manners didn't seem as out of place as she claimed . I guessed that she was probably expecting me to escort her "home", especially as her parents would not be too happy if they learnt their precious daughter had been stuck in a small station.
And from what I could tell, she had begun to trust mea trust she'd have done well not to extend to strangers so easily. While I learnt all this, time went on as always, and soon we were informed that the sole food outlet on the station would close in fifteen minutes.
Did we want anything ? I asked her to choose and offered to pay. She chose, and didn't resist as I paid. The food, thankfully, was hot, and conversation died out as we gobbled down the plain fare.
This took another half an hour, during which I could not help observe my companion as she shovelled down the food. To be fair, she wasn't very pretty at close quarters, and I'd have passed her as average on an average day. But this was no average day, and I soon found myself admiring the features of her face. This inevitably made her conscious of herself, and she gave me a broad smile.
I had no option but to return to my food, but somehow the stillness of the night and the only presence near me (the guard had retired to the guard room) being female, it didn't take me very long to start admiring her again. I began from her forehead, which lacked any sign of marriage, which was an encouraging sign (was I planning to marry her ?
my mind asked me sarcastically. Hell no! ) From there to the thin eyebrows, which framed two beautiful brown eyes, currently downcast, eyelashes fluttering everytime she blinked.
Below them were two fair expanses of flawless skin, which rose and fell as she ate. And at their centre, two lovely red petals, which opened to fill her mouth with food. If only I could. I didn't notice her looking at me until it was too late. When I did, I saw a mixture of shock and uneasiness in her gaze, her hand hovering over her empty plate.
As I met her gaze,she looked away, her hand trembling. The spoon in her hand fell. Before I could do anything, sh got up and walked off, muttering something about going to the toilet. Suddenly I was all alone. She had left her plate and purse, but her presence was no longer there. Through my lecherous gaze, I had driven away one who could have been my companion for the night.
A female companion for the night. My mind conjured up images of her lips again. It was cold, and I realized if I sat there, I'd either freeze or lose myself in thoughts of Reena. Cursing my hormones, I collected the plates, picked up her purse, and headed out.
The platform was empty, greeting me with a blast of cold air that almost reversed my direction. Shivering yet unable to wrap my arms around myself, I cut a sorry figure, a combination of waiter and lady's servant as I headed towards the other end of the poorly lit platform, more concerned about where she had gone than in disposing the plates. Finding solution to neither problem by the time I reached the middle of the platform, I decided to dump the plates on the counter of the stall, and headed off with her purse towards the toilets, unsure of where to find her.
As I made my way towards the other end of the station, where the toilets were, the stillness of the night was shattered by the tune of a film song. The culprit turned out to be a cellphone in my ex-companion's purse, and the source of disturbance a call from her mother. I wondered what to do. If I picked it up and explained where I was (rather where she was) and who I was, the worried woman would likely send a military helicopter to her daughter's rescue.
Leaving me, in the present state of affairs, to while away the hours of the night.
If I didn't pickup and she didn't return for a whilechances were her parents would probably file a missing report to the police. Damn the girl, I thought, knowing I should be cursing myself.
As I stared alternatively at the empty station benches and to the phone in my hand, I decided not to pick it up. I'd find her before the next call came and she'd manage things. I didn't want to be accused of anything, given the tendency of people to view a man and girl together alone at night. As my shadow crossed the small ticket counter, I picked up pace, defying the repeated blasts of cold air that came in from the pitch black exterior of the station.
In another minute, I was rewarded with the view of two dingy doors, with faded signs informing the outsider that defecating was a gender segregated procedure. For a moment I stood there, wondering if I should check the female toilet. Not much chance of being caught, but somehow the interior didn't welcome me.
Surely she'd have turned on the light (which was functioning as I verified0 if she'd gone in ? Unable to wait any longer, I peered in, and saw a row of cubicles with basins facing them.
There didn't seem to be any sign of activity. Before I could check each one separately though, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. "Saheb, this is the ladies' toilet. The gents is next to it. " it was the old man from the food stall. Feeling embarassed, I walked out. This exposed the purse on my shoulder, and he realized. "You're looking for the memsaheb aren't you ? This toilet has problems so I suggested she use the staff ones at the back.
She should return by now. " He hesitated for a moment then asked "Are you and her.related ?" I replied in the negative, to which he returned a raised eyebrow that completed a "I see' look. I was saved further embarassment by the arrival of the lady herself. She looked a bit disoriented, her sweater on her hand. Inspite of myself, I realized she was quite well endowed, as seen from the cleavage visible under the blouse.
In her other hand ,she carried an electric torch that lost its glow as she stepped into the light. Ignoring me, she handed the torch back to the man with a big smile. The man decided to use this good will to see if he could be of further use. " Will you be staying the night, memsahib ?" "Yes, it seems so. But I have company. " she alluded to me with a fake smile.
" Oh,I.see. Well, if I may, my house is a couple of miles away, and if you don't mind riding pillion on a motorcycle, my wife would be more than happy to have some female company. " " Oh that's very kind of you.
But what about my luggage ?" she asked, snatching her purse from my hand. "We-el, you could ask the guards to take care of it I guess. But won't this young man be there too ?" impying I wasn't invited to his house. "Umm can you take care of my luggage ?" she asked me pointedly, the less than friendly expression on her face not diminishing it's feminity.
" Can't say I can. I may go off for a smoke. " I had been getting a little pissed with things, and the response came tumbling out. The stall owner realized he was losing the game, and offered to get his son's friends to get it for her to his house. But somehow the mention of youths didnt' quite suit her, and she, rather unwillingly, told him she'd be fine.
The man gave me a cold look, as if I was contemplating every crime possible, and went off, leaving us together again. I gave her a fake smile, and led the way back to the waiting room. Things were pretty much the same, except that the tubelight seemed to have dimmed even further. This time she didn't sit next to me, but sat on her own, opening up the novel again. I was fine with that, but like earlier, my mind again began to look towards her feminine areas, especially her tits.
Realizing this, she lowered her book further, and pulled her shawl round herself. This wrecked the scene, and I decided not to press things for the moment. Placing my feet on the bench (which I'd swapped for the chair) I put my backpack under my head and dozed off again.
Unfortunately for me, and as it would turn out, more unfortunately for her, she could not spend much time reading the novel, and (deliberately I think), turned on the music in her phone. This woke me up, and I found her looking at me from the corner of her eye, the novel still firmly in place. For a while I sat at my place, fiddling with my phone, and would have succeeded in engrossing myself in the games if my mind hadn't started noticing the finer points of her antomy again.
I was more careful this time though, as much out of self perseverence as from a feeling of obligation in keeping the trust she'd reposed when she turned down the stall owner's offer. For her part, she kept glancing at me out of the side of her book. We kept this up for a good half an hour, before she could take it no more and slammed the book shut, getting up and going out. I was left alone, wondering whether to follow her out and risk conversation or sit there and keep up the pretence.
But with no one to pretend to, I soon found the game boring, and got up and moved outside, being greeted by another blast of cold air. Ignoring the weather, I noticed her standing in the middle of the platform, looking into the distance, her shawl and skirt being pummeled by the wind. For some reason, I found myself admiring her from where I stood, something preventing me from going up to her and breaking the stillness of the empty station.
There she stood, a young girl of 24 or 25, alone, looking into the cold darkness. What was she thinking ? How she would handle things when she got home ? How the women in the village were faring ?
Yet something in her beautiful eyes told me she wasn't thinking of the present, or even of the near future. She had not spoken about what she wanted to be in life, what her dreams were.
Was she thinking of those dreams, wondering where her life was going ? And, my mind inadvertently asked, was she thinking of marriage ? I tried to think of it analytically, from the viewpoint of a young girl. But my mind refused to pull me out of the picture. Yes,she was beautiful, and we made good company. We could even be friends, but.she was looking at me now, her face betraying no emotions, an expressionless face bathed in yellow, framed by swirling strands of hair.
An ordinary face. But why couldn't I ignore it ? WIthout realizing it, the purely physical feelings I had been having so far began to change into something more. Sitting here typing today, I wish they hadn't. She looked away, pulling the shawl closer to herself, as if sheilding herself from me. She knew I was openly staring at her, but now it did not seem to bother her. She was in some other dimension, where I was not invited. Where feelings and thoughts closest to her heart resided.
Where she would keep the one she would truly love. She was coming back, her head bowed down, her body shivering from the cold. Closer and closer she came, till she was standing right in front of me. Did she want to say something ? For a moment she stood there, looking past me, her face as expressionless as before. WOuldn't she say something ?
Anything ? Her lips finally moved "You're blocking the door." And so I was. I moved away,she moved in. I was left alone again. Instinctively I wanted to move back inside, see what she was up to. But something in that lack of expression repulsed me, and I found myself pacing back and forth across the platform, ligthing a cigarette to pass the time.
Time.one in the morning. I'd slept atleast five hours in the day,and felt fully alert. I'd have likely smoked the night away, if I had been alone; if she had chosen to go with the other man. Other man ? She had said nothing about men, her loves and her crushes. Did she have a man in her life ? She was unmarried, but that didn't mean she was single. For some reason the realization seemed like an ice prick to my heart. I stopped my pacing and looked towards the waiting room, able to make out only the edge of her skirt through the door which she had left open.
As I looked on, the possibility became a conviction, and I started to feel as if I'd gone after an opportunity that never was. The mind is a funny creature you see, it has its own moods, and suddenly I was feeling low when I should have just brushed the whole affair away.
I started to hate the night for introducing me to a girl who could never.cursing myself, I lit another cigarette, turned away and headed to the other end of the platform.
This end was even darker than average, the cement melting into mud though neither was visible enough to tell the difference. The cold wind hit me with an almost muscular force,as if refusing to countenance opposition to itself.
And as if to spit defiance, I stood up staighter, challenging the wind for want of anything else to do. Yet soon I found even this to be a losing cause, my face becoming numb and my nose starting to run. I admitted defeat when my nose shattered the silence of the night. Cursing, I turned back. Yet the cold seemed to have washed away the fuzzy thoughts, the weird ideas I had had.
This was just a stop, a one night wait in an empty station, one among many experiences I would have. And what was I doing thinking of her ? My parents had been on the lookout for a girl since I got the job,and had settled on two choices. I had almost made up my mind, and would confirm when I next visited my ancestral village. If Reena had her issues, I had my own life as well.
The room was thankfully empty when I returned. She was presumably gone to relieve herself again. Could I care less ? I looked around for things to do, and, (rather ironically as I realize now) picked up her novel. It wasn't a novel, but a collection of short stories, something sold in every station of India. Flipping through the pages, I found a story titled the "Wrong Choice?", by some obscure author, and began reading it.
To be true, it was terribly boring, but it pulled my thoughts back to her. Should I have agreed to the man taking the girl away for the night ? Did she make the right choice ? And where was she ? It had been fifteen minutes since I had returned, and she had not come back. The voice that had told me to ignore her now told me to stay where I was, but somehow, sitting in the middle of her belongings, holding her book in hand, it was muted.
As the clock showed one thirty, I headed out the second time in the night to look for a girl I hardly knew. This time I knew better where to go. Heading out towards the back of the station, I looked for any trace of her. A pair of watery footmarks were all I found, and presuming them to be hers, I followed them into the darker part of the station.
Turning on my phone screen to maximum brightness, I used it as a torch as I approached the staff toilets. They were dark. Not wasting time, I promptly headed into the ladies' toilet, and found signs of recent use. Moving my improvised torch around, I found one of the cubicles open, and her purse hanging from the nail,along with her shawl. I was starting to get seriously worried by now. It wasn't right for a girl to be wandering so late, and I couldn't fathom why she would leave her belongings and leave.
Hearing a slight buzz from her purse, I opened it to find her mother calling again on the cell. I held it for a whole minute, enduring two calls in quick succession. When it went silent again, I saw that she had fifteen missed calls from her father mother and a few unknown numbers. Why wasn't she picking up any calls ? Did anyone even know she was here ? Taking her belongings like last time, I checked the stall for other signs of use, and apart from a paper soap which I presumed was hers, found none.
As another call from her father began, I moved out, wrapping the shawl round me as a cold blast of wind welcomed me back. Not bothering to shut the door, I instinctively decided to check behind the toilet. Putting her phone back in her bag again, I headed out, almost spraining my leg as I stepped down from the platform to the ground.
Adjusting myself, I headed into the night, my breath forming vapor as I wrapped her shawl more closely round myself.
The ground was uneven, and twice I found myself standing in a ditch that ran beside the platform. Still no sign of her. Getting rather desperate now, I decided to call out her name. Clearing my voice, I rent the night air with her name. Like a lover looking for his lost mate ?I cursed my mind for the allegory, but it refused to die away, as I moved forward in the icy night, dead leaves and refuse swirling around my feet as my muscles cursed me for the extra effort.
Yet my mind would not let me rest. I had by now moved atleast 500 metres from where the platform ended,and decided if she had gone any farther, she may as well be beyond saving. Deciding to go around in a long arc, I turned, and calling out her name, headed left. By now my mind had started to fear for the worst, increasingly replacing the past tense for the present in my thoughts.
This only increased my desperation to find her, and learn what I did not know. As the clock struck two thirty, I picked up pace. Another ten minutes later, the arc was almost complete, and the desperation was giving way to fantastic hopes and fears.
My body was freezing by now, and as the twentieth call from her mother went unanswered, both the cells warned of low charge: if I did not return soon,I may well be left in the dark. It was now that I realized that between the effort needed to call out in the cold, and the fears which were gripping me steadily, I'd ignored the basic thing : calling out her name.
But before I could resume, my phone showed the shutdown screen and went off. I now had to keep moving in the dark (stopping would freeze me) while trying to raise the brightness of her cell. In all likelihood it would have given up in a matter of minutes as well, but it never got the chance. I felt my foot hit a slope, sliding before I could balance myself. My other foot caught in something I couldn't see, and I tripped, crashing into what I assumed was a pit. Thankfully the bottom was soft, and cushioned my fall.
It was warm too. "Would you please get off me. I can't breathe." The voice made me jump, and I made an awkward movement, landing on the same warm material again, resulting in an "oww" from the bottom of the pit.
Another effort got me onto harder and colder ground, and I turned around to find the source of the voice pushing against me. Barely able to make out the form, I felt her till I found her abdomen and pulled it up. "Thanks. But couldn't you have avoided falling on me ?" Reena asked, her dust caked upper body in my arms.
For some reason, hearing her voice filled me with a relief that made me want to sing. Instead, I pulled her towards me and hugged her, revelling in the feeling of her warm body against mine. We stayed in this position for a full five minutes, which seemed like eternity to me.
Finally she pulled back, "You have my shawl. And purse." I gladly returned them to her, giving her another hug, this time pressing herself against me as much as I did against her, rubbing her face against my shoulder as I buried mine in her hair.
It was dusty, but I could make out a faint perfume as I felt those silky tresses caress my cold cheeks, tease my nose and cover my eyes with a soft darkness which shut out the black night. I held her tightly, afraid to lose her in the darkness again, afraid of all the thoughts which had run through my head in the last half an hour, which had turned a girl I hardly knew into someone I could not afford to keep away; her heart beating against mine, her chest rising and falling in rythm with mine, her lips caressing the back of my neck as we remained entwined in a pit in the middle of a deserted station.
She pulled back again, and shifted slightly, but I held on to her, unwilling to reason with anything at that moment. I could make out the outline of her face, my hands in her hair, presumably looking at me. What was she thinking ? Was she as relieved as I was to find her ? Did she love the intimacy of this darkness as much as I did.
Was she afraid to lose me as I was to lose her ? But I coudn't listen to reason, even if it came from her mouth, no more than when it came from my head. I didn't even register what she was saying, except that her voice was beautiful and her breath was on my face. From those lovely lips, so close to my face. I couldnt' resist myself. Her lips were soft, warm petals which I opened with my own, sucking in one and then the other, loving the delicate flesh, feeling the warmth of her breath again.
She had become still when we made contact, but I felt her muscles relax, and her arms pull me closer. She broke lip contact, then resumed it,kissing me passionately as we held each other in our arms. How did I feel ? It's hard to explain, but if I'd ever felt unadulterated love for someone, it was then. My questions, my logic and my fears had melted in her soft mouth, replaced by a warm feeling which seemed to come from her, a peaceful feeling which calmed me like no cigarette could, which told me she loved me too.
I don't know how long we kissed, how long we remained in that tight embrace, in that cocoon that kept out the cold and our fears. Again and again I moved in for her love, and again and again she obliged, allowing me to push into her mouth, to play with her tongue in that warm cavity. She pulled me closer, her love expressed in the nails that pressed into my back, as mine explored her hair, moving down to feel the soft flesh of her shoulders,and back into the dense layers of her hair.
But all good things seem short, too short for this long and dreary life. Somewhere a branch snapped, and the magic ended. We pulled back, aware of our surroundings, the cold,the desolate night, the pit which was our temporary abode.
I was still trying to understand my feelings, when she spoke, " We better move." Brought back into the mundane, I forced my muscles to move, and found (she'd later claim it to be her body "cushion") that I was thankfully unhurt.
Such was not the case with Reena, who had badly sprained a leg. I stood up, realizing that the pit was around my waist. It proved impossible for her to get up on her own, and I was left with no option but to lift her up in my arms. No matter how romantic this may seem, in the pitch blackness, it was no mean task.
First, I managed to lift her from the pit,setting her down at its edge, before climbing out. Then I had to pick her up again, and then find my way back, based on instinct, to the platform. All this took some time, and we reached the waiting room only at three thirty. If I had thought this was the end of the adventurous night, I was wrong. As we both found, the pit had made us a lot more confortable with each other, and soon she was sitting beside me, the shawl wrapped around us both.
And as we began to talk again, she shifted from there, heedless of the sprain in her leg, to my lap, her short height making her only a little higher than me. I used this position to wrap my arms around her, kissing her again without thinking. This time she didn't even pretend to resist, melting into my mouth like only a true lover can. My hand began to push into her sweater, feeling the soft flesh, causing goosebumps as it came in contact with my cold hand. She didn't resist to this either, and soon I was squeezing the soft flesh of her back and waist, as I marvelled at the amorous look in her eyes.
If she had wanted to stop, things would have ended there I guess, but neither of us wanted to end this magical night just yet. She effortlessly unhooked her bra, pushing up the sweater, blouse and bra to reveal the boobs I'd thought so much about.
As if reading my mind, she said "C cup." I responded by grabbing one of her lovely globes and pulling it into my hungry mouth. The cold had made her nipple hard,and the brown nub was huge, swelling more in my mouth as I began to eagerly suck on it. She ran her fingers through my hair, caressing my like and adjusting my position, pushing me even deeper into her titflesh. I used the invitation to take in as much of her soft fatty gland as I could, sucking it slowly in and out, causing her to moan in pleasure.
Wrapping my arm round her, I began to suck harder, running my teeth along the sensitive tip, before biting it. She let out a yelp, her breathing quickening as I kept up my ministrations on her tit.
Using my free hand, I grabbed the other one, cupping the heavy gland in my hand, wrapping my fingers slowly round it. Once it was in my palm, I began to squeeze it softly, all the while keeping up my assault on the other tit.
"Harder."she moaned, her nipple pushing through my fingers as she steadily became more and more aroused. This time I squeezed her tit hard, holding her tit captive as her other breast felt the sting of my teeth. She moaned harder, starting to push her groin against mine.
I let go for a moment, and then bit down again, pulling the tit with my teeth, elongating her gland as she moaned in pain and pleasure. Letting go, I moved to the other tit, repeating the action with even greater force, causing her boob to stretch out as much as possible from her chest. Even as I tortured her tits, she took my free hand to her skirtwhich she had pushed up to her thighs, allowing me to knead the soft flesh on offer, my hands pinching and mauling their way to the ultimate goal.
Suddenly,she pulled away, moving gingerely so that her skirt was up around her waist. With a little help,she managed to put her legs round my torso (so much for the sprain) and the whole thing was covered up by her shawl.
Her panties were pink,which she pushed aside to reveal a pussy equally pink, dripping with juice. Pushing her fingers away, I pushed my own in, and held them near my nose, loving the scent of woman. To my surprise, she took my fingers and sucked them, licking up her own juices. I obliged by pushing my other hand into her nether lips, my index and middle finger searching for her clit as they began to move in and out. This evidently turned her on, her moans becoming louder and more frequent.
Once I found her clit, I sped up, flicking her most sensitive spot, causing her to bounce on my lap as she threw her head back in ecstacy. She was very wet by now, her body pushing itself on my hand as I kept up my fingering.
Her breathing had become rapid now, with plenty of encouragement for me, both verbal and labial. Her hands were on my shoulders, digging in, squeezing and pinching them as she neared orgasm. Her tits bounced before me, the heavy jugs that I'd just punished asking for more pleasure. I obliged, Grabbing one and squeezing the soft meat till I could feel my own fingers through the flesh, all the while keeping up the effort on her pussy.
"Faster.harder." And harder I went, her tits becoming redder and her pussy wetter. "ah.aahhh.ahhhhhh." she was close. Grabbing a nipple, I twisted hard, pushing her over he edge. As my fingers were flooded with pussy juice, her tit trapped in my vice like grip, her head thrown back as her beautiful lips expressed the force of her orgasm in her lovely voice.
I loved every moment of it, using this moment to taste the tangy fruit of my labour, before giving her a taste of her cum, following it up with a long and passionate kiss on her full lips, as she slowly recuperated from what she admitted was the best orgasm of her life. Sadly we were interrupted again. The guard door was creaking, and eventually opened.
Terrified, I picked her and set her down beside me, shawl covering her modesty. For my part, I got up and began to pace, pouring some water on the large wet spot made by her pussy. As it turned out, we weren't a moment early. The guard had heard her moan, and had decided to see if public morality was being maintained. He now appeared, groggy and disoriented, and perceived the scene before him with a detective's eye. Finding nothing specific to complain about apart from a liberal amount of dirt on the floor, he annouced that we could expect the train in less than an hourand should get packing.
Thanking him in her most feminine voice, Reena nodded towards me, and I began to arrange the bags, careful to keep my back to him.
Giving me a weird look, he moved out, and we both heaved a sigh of relief. With the guard positioned right outside our door, and the stall owner inquiring fifteen minutes later if we had a good nightwe had no choice but to behave as if we barely knew each other. But my hand still smelt of her pussy, and she knew the moment we were alone again, I would pounce on her. The train came on time, and with it, Reena's opportunistic leg sprain.
I had to help her onto the train, and though our compartments were different, we persuaded the ticket conductor to allow us to be together till about 25 miles from town, when the compartments started filling up. Our luggage having been deposited for a small commission by the ever helpful stall owner, we were off towards our common destination.
As the fields whizzed by, I arranged our luggage, and gave her my phone so she could call home. She excused herself and went out, to return barely five minutes later; I'd expected her to take a little more time explaining herself.
Yet at that moment, I considered it an obstacle out of my path, and after checking to ensure the ticket conductor was nowhere, pulled her onto my lap again. This time though, she seemed to be less enthusiastic, but allowed me to pull her skirt up, and. using the blanket available, covered her so she didn't feel cold. This done my pants came down followed by my underwear. Grabbing her hips, I raised her and adjusted her position, till her slit was above my prick. She realized what I wanted, and obliged by lowering herself onto the tool.
She wasn't a virgin, and I found myself becoming engulfed in her soft warm flesh, soon to be buried to the balls in her tight cunt. She moaned again as I filled her, taking my hands and placing them on her tits, which I began to squeeze through her sweater. She adjusted herself again, exposing my cum-polished dick before consuming it again in its warm tightness. And tightness it was, squeezing my dick like a velvet vice, milking me for my cum.
Coupled with the soft flesh in my hands and the seductive look in her eyes, it almost made me explode, but I held myself, wanting to prolong this moment, when she and I had finally come together in sexual bliss, forever. But she had other ideas. Pulling out, she lay down on the berth, spreading her legs, inviting me. Unwilling to leave my dick in the cold, I promptly grabbed her thighs, pushed her legs over my shoulder, and buried myself again.
Holding steady for a moment, I revelled in the warmth, before slowly pulling out, causing her to moan in protest. Admiring the pussy juice on my dick, I pushed in again, harder than before. "Uhhh" her mouth curved to form a moan. Out and in again, slamming into her tight hole. As the train sped along, I increased my own speed, one hand holding her waist as the other squeezed her tits. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open in a permanent moan as I slammed harder and harder, faster and faster into her.
She wrapped her legs round my neck, her slender legs pressing me gently as I pounded her; her hands were caressing my chest, neck and face, stroking my hair when I moved in to suck her nipple, my other hand gently cupping her other tit, feeling it bounce in my hand from the fucking.
As I steadily approached orgasm, I raised myself up, grabbing her tits, using them as handles as I fucked her like a piston, the sound of our bodies slapping against each other complemented by the small screams that accompanied each tug on her milk glands.
I wished I could stay in her warm wetness forever, but this time, her tight pussy proved too much for me. Burying my face in her tits, I pressed her against myself as I came hard inside her unprotected hole, her vagina milking me to the last drop. She just lay there, stroking my hair, her legs now wrapped round my waist, taking it all in, savouring the moment of our sexual union as I was.
Spent, I collapsed on top of her. We lay there for a while, reveling in the afterglow of our lovemaking, until she got up, hearing a sound at the end of the passage.
I quickly dressed myself as she pulled down her skirt and sweater. It was the ticketchecker who verified our tickets again and told me that I'd have to shift at the next station, which was fortyfive mintues away. As soon as I had left, I wrapped my hands around her and held her as I would my wife.Yet she seemed lost in her own world again. Presently,she asked, "Do you think one should compromise on one's dreams ?" I was taken aback, and couldn't lie, not to one I'd just made love to.
I told her what I felt. She looked at me with a piercing gaze, then looked away. "Why do you ask ? " I asked her. "Just curious." was the answer. She would not say anything more, moving to the opposite berth, she lay down and went to sleep. Satisfied that she was "just curious" (how could I have been so satisfied?) I also dozed off contentedly.
"I thought you planned to get down at the last to last station" the ticket master was standing beside me, as I got up and rubbed my eyes, wondering why the sun had risen so much. "Wh.which station is it " On getting the answer, I howled in frustration, and only then realized that Reena was gone. "She left ?" I asked. "Yes, she didn't seem too keen to wake you up.
Anyway, get down at the next station, or get a new ticket. " I thanked him, and sat up, wondering how I could have slept through it all. Well it was only logical that she would get down, though a part of me wondered how she could get off without me.
Then again, she probably knew the town well, and would find her way. Still feeling strangely forlorn, and wondering how I would contact her, I decided to arrange my luggage. As I got up, A piece of paper, tucked in my shirt, fell down.
It was a note. For three years I could make no sense of things. In the period, I got married, joined a new company as photograper, and shifted to the commercial hub of the country. For three years she remained an enigma I could not fathom, yet could tell no one. Today I saw her face again, in the newspaper.
Aspiring model, less than 30 years old, had run away from home, taken to drugs, committed suicide. I pulled out the note from my drawer,and read it again. "Thanks for all you have done for me. You made me feel loved and cared for like no one else has. But I lied to you. Everything I told you was a lie. I had my reasons, but for a few hours I forgot them, I wanted to stay with you. You reminded me of what I have to do. You saved me from making the wrong choice.
Yours, Swati" ---------------------------------------------------- written by Pandorius999 ([email protected]) (Note : Various details have been modified to make them comply with the storyline.
Apologies for any inconsistencies that may have arisen because of the same.) (Errors of grammar or plot, along with constructive crtiticism, is always welcome. )