Crossing Boundaries - Sex Stories

Crossing Boundaries

... smile at that tender gesture. I studied his face, observing each reaction. He had that same look of helplessness as his excitement grew. "You have me so worked up, I'm already getting close!" he confessed. His expression was almost pained while our hands together moved faster yet.

"Come," I dared to whisper. An insistent throb had begun deep within me. My mind might have still been somewhat innocent to what was happening, but my body knew all too well. My need was instinctual, undeniable. The man bucked his hips, and I easily heard his sharp intake of breath. He swore, then let out a groan. I felt the shudder course through him as he reached climax. Hot semen coated my skin while I kept up my fervent stroking. The man grunted and tensed, and I was rewarded with even more of his seed.

He finally had to stop my hand, his touch gentle. "That's all I can bear, sweetheart!" he said. I realized he'd grown too sensitive, just as I had after my own orgasm. Still breathing hard, the man offered me a handkerchief so I could wipe my hand clean. Once I was finished, I retrieved a pack of tissues from my purse and held it out to him.

"You might need these," I said, unable to suppress my grin.

"You angel." Beneath the coat, he cleaned himself up as well as he could, but when he excused himself to use the restroom a few moments later, I noticed he was holding the coat before him to conceal the mess we'd made. Once he returned, I went to relieve myself as well. After washing my ...

... hands, I splashed a bit of water on my flushed face. My skin remained hot, as if I had a fever.

When the man and I were both settled in our seats again, we didn't speak for several minutes. With the backs of his fingers, he caressed my thigh. Our eyes met, and he gave me a satisfied smile. I couldn't stop staring at him, still in disbelief at what we'd just done. "I'm getting off at the next stop," he finally said. "Why don't you come with me?"

I didn't entertain the thought of saying yes for even a moment. Shaking my head, I told him, "My father will be waiting to pick me up at the station later this evening. I have a few hours to go yet."

He released a sigh. "That's a pity. You're like a succulent piece of fruit, so ready to be devoured." His words sent a fierce pang of longing through me. "I envy the man who will get to fully enjoy that sweetness between your thighs."

Before departing, he gave me a last kiss. It grew hungry and demanding, and I surrendered to the force of his lips. I welcomed his tongue into my mouth. When he reluctantly pulled away, I was breathing fast again, fighting the urge to reach for him. He stroked my cheek and smiled. Then he was gone.

I sat alone for the rest of the train ride. When I remembered the man's touch, my body pulsed in response, craving more. By the time I reached my stop, I was exhausted. After greeting me inside the station, my father's expression grew concerned. "Are you okay, Flora?"

"I'm fine," I assured him. ...