The man in front of me gets up from his seat and exits the train. Now only you and I are left in this, the last car of the train. I look over at you, admiring the swell of your C-cup breast in the tight stretch top, and your well-defined legs that are set off by the tight, black miniskirt. You notice me staring and you glance shifts nervously out the window. I stand and cross the aisle to your seat and stand over you, admiring the view of your tits that seem ready to burst out of their bra-less confinement. You hands move uncomfortably in your lap, trying to find something to occupy them. Easing down into the seat beside you, I read over and cup your right breast in my hand, squeezing hard, savoring its firmness. "There's only one reason a woman dresses you're dressed right now," I say in a hoarse whisper. "Because she's hungry for length.

" You continue to stare out the window while I stare at you, watching the muscles move in your delicate throat as you swallow nervously.

I move my hand to your other breast and caress it lightly before gathering the nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I squeeze your nipple, slowly increasing pressure until I can see tears forming in the corner. "Is that it, sweetheart," I say, bending across so that my lips are an inch from your ear. "Are you hungry for length?" "Starving," you moan, pushing your breast further into my grip and running your tongue over full red lips. I marvel at you face: the large, wide-spaced green eyes full, wide mouth and pert nose framed by a cascade of long, blonde hair the whole made all that more beautiful by your lustful expression. I pull your top up to expose your luscious tits as you fumble with my pants. Having freed my raging hard length, you pause and gaze down at it. A thin line of drool escapes your lips, and we both watch as it descends down to the head of my length. With a start you dive into my lap, impaling yourself and swallowing half of my length with an audible "gulp." I've got one of your tits in each hands and I knead and squeeze them as I marvel at your enthusiastic lengthsucking. You're noisy and it turns me on even more to listen to your slurping, sucking noises. Just then, the train arrives at it's next stop and I tense as the doors open, but you don't seem to notice. There are only a handful of people on the platform, but one of them, an older woman, is at the door to our car. She steps on and does a double-take at the sight of your blonde head bobbing away on my schlong, then backs out the door. I watch to see where she goes but I can't tell.

At that particular moment, I really don't care who she tells. You're making little gasping and moaning noises as you slobber on my length and I see that you've got your free hand lodged between your legs.

I run a hand back over your soft place to confirm my suspicions and find that you've got three fingers buried in your teasing wet snatch.

I add one of mine, just to lubricate the finger, which I trail along the line to your sensitive place. Your lengthsucking intensifies as I circle your puckered opening and gently work my finger inside.

Within seconds, the entire length of my finger is buried in your soft place, and you're writhing back and forth between my length, your hand and my finger.

"I'm going to come," I groan. "Suck my balls." With a loud "plop" you slide your mouth off of my length and go to work on my balls, toying the underside of my sack. Your free hand works at my length, moving up and down at a frantic pace as you take both balls in your mouth. With a loud "uuuunnnnggh" I start to come and you move your mouth up to catch the stream of sperm. I shoot a half-dozen long spurts into your waiting mouth. When the last jet subsides, you bob down once more, cleaning the length of my length. The train jerks to a halt at the end of the line and we stand and quickly rearrange our clothes. "You're a terrific lengthsucker," I say, catching a handful of your blonde mane in my hand." You smile and grab at the collar of my shirt. "Come with me, stud. I'm still starving...

"