Crossing Boundaries - Sex Stories

Crossing Boundaries

In a time before the internet was ubiquitous and everyone owned a smartphone, before security cameras monitored almost every street, I was a twenty-one-year-old woman alone on a train.

It was a late afternoon in October, and I sat by the window, looking out on unfamiliar surroundings as the train made yet another stop. I was on my way home after attending the wedding of a friend. We'd been inseparable as teenagers, but while she'd moved away to attend college, I remained in our hometown, living with my parents and working as a secretary. My friend and I were steadfast pen pals, and I'd been delighted to receive a wedding invitation from her. I was also a little nervous about traveling so far from home. The wedding was to take place eight hours from where I lived. My father suggested that I travel by train. "With your horrible sense of direction, you'll never find your way there if you try to drive, Flora," he'd told me.

I'd left on a train traveling northward; it departed just after sunrise, and I arrived by early afternoon. Though my friend was engaged in a whirlwind of pre-wedding activity, I was still able to spend some time with her. I stayed overnight at her parents' house, sleeping on a cot since all the guest rooms were full of visiting family. I was relieved not to have to spend a night alone in a hotel. My friend's excitement about the wedding was contagious, and I found myself constantly grinning while I was in her presence. The wedding earlier that day had ...

... been beautiful, but I couldn't stay long at the reception before I had to call a cab to take me to the train station.

As I now waited for the train to begin moving again, I slid my hands over the fabric of my pale pink dress, smoothing out minuscule wrinkles. I hadn't been sure what to wear to the wedding. "Something modest and understated," my mother advised. "You don't want to attract any attention that should belong solely on the bride." During my rush to get out of the cab at the station a couple of hours earlier, I'd gotten an unsightly run in my pantyhose, and it seemed to grow by the minute. I ended up taking them off inside a stall in the station restroom, so my legs were now bare. Along with my small purse, I held a cardigan in my lap in case I got cold. I'd worn my shoulder-length dark hair down, and I brushed it back from my face, then moved my glasses farther up the bridge of my nose.

Looking around, I noticed the train car wasn't nearly as crowded now. We'd made stops at several major cities, and passengers steadily departed at each one. Now we were headed into a more rural stretch of the journey. I enjoyed gazing out at the countryside. The fading sunlight gave it a soft, warm glow. Just before the train began moving, someone sat in the seat next to mine. I was surprised, for there were plenty of other seats available.

With a discreet glance, I found the passenger was a man around my father's age, maybe a little younger. He was quite handsome, his wavy, ...