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Although it was the carriage furthest away from entry or exit points, the two reasons I did so were that firstly, most people are lazy and always rush for the nearest carriage, and secondly, not being lazy to walk the extra bit I always found a seat on the train.One evening, after stopping at the third station on my way home, a good looking guy moved through the carriage approaching my direction and sat opposite me. He was wearing a tracksuit and appeared to be very well built. He had a handsome square face with short dark blond hair and blue eyes. I presumptuously concluded that he was of Eastern European extraction. For the duration of our journey, we constantly exchanged glances before he alighted at the penultimate station.Once the train started moving off, he gave me a lovely smile as we passed by him on the platform.The following evening, the same scenario played itself out. Once he was seated he smiled and said, “Looks like you and I have the same philosophy”.Then, observing. "I thought you left!" she gasped, and smiled at me, using a pillow to cover her pussy. "I forgot... my keys," I stuttered, and walked towards her; my keys were on the table next to her head. I grabbed my keys in one hand, and leaned down and kissed her. With my left hand, I ran my fingers across her belly, my tongue discovering her mouth. Slowly, she lessened her grasp on the pillow, and eventually let go, putting one hand around my waist and the other grabbing my forearm. I opened my eyes when I felt her grasp relax, and looked down at her trembling thighs; her nightgown had slid up to her waist, revealing her ample, but sexy, bush. Before she could protest, I quickly licked my middle finger and shot my hand down to her crotch. The lubrication wasn't necessary: I hadn't met a woman so inexcusably wet. My fingers found her clit, rubbing in circles, and then in lines... She made some weak attempts to get me to stop, but as soon as the "s" left her lips, I'd run the length of my finger.
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