Crossing Boundaries - Sex Stories

Crossing Boundaries

... dark blond hair a little long so that it brushed his collar. Though it was a Saturday, the man wore a fine suit. Later on, I wondered if it was his attire that made me so comfortable around him, so trusting when I otherwise wouldn't have been. My father wore a suit to work every day, and I associated it with authority; respectability.

When our eyes met, the man gave me a smile. His eyes were an almost startling blue. We exchanged polite greetings, and then I went back to looking out the window while he read a newspaper. No one else sat very close to us, and the train car grew fairly quiet. While I was hypervigilant at first with a stranger sitting right beside me, I soon relaxed, and my eyelids grew a bit heavy. All the excitement of the trip was catching up with me.

"Ah, look at that gorgeous maple," the man next to me murmured. I glanced at him again, then followed his gaze out the window. Immediately I spotted the tree with its fiery foliage. It had turned earlier than the others.

"It's beautiful," I agreed. The man leaned closer to me for a better look. I caught the scent of his cologne, and it stirred something inside me. Instead of recoiling from the stranger, I stayed still, feeling his suit coat brush against my bare arm.

After settling back in his seat again, the man returned his attention to the paper he'd been reading, seemingly dismissing me. As dusk fell outside, I again grew sleepy. Each time my eyes tried to close, I fought to keep them open. At ...

... some point, I dozed off, lulled by the train's gentle movement.

I immediately awakened with a start when he touched me. Looking down, I saw his hand resting on my thigh. "What are you doing?" I demanded, careful to keep my voice low. He'd put his paper away and now seemed utterly relaxed, leaning back against the seat. His touch was possessive; someone walking by might have thought we were lovers.

The man didn't answer. Instead, he slid his palm even higher. My eyes widened, and I grabbed his wrist. I'd never been in a situation like this before. As a young woman, I was rarely noticed by men. My mousy looks and quiet nature rendered me almost invisible. If a man did happen to pay attention to me, I grew painfully shy. I now looked around the train for help, but the remaining passengers were oblivious to what was occurring. "I promise I won't hurt you," the stranger whispered.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. My thoughts grew muddy from my rising panic. Part of me knew I should immediately stand up and move to another seat, yet I felt strangely paralyzed.

The man's stare took on a strange heat. "I've never done this before," he revealed, "but as soon as I saw you, I knew I had to touch you." I had no idea if he was telling the truth, but I guessed he might be because, even then, I realized most women never would have tolerated his behavior. But I was completely docile as he took my cardigan and spread it across my lap. With his hand concealed, he began lifting my ...