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From: weltonoa@hotmail.com (Geoffrey  Trantham)
Subject: New Story.Petra and the Train JourneyTrain.(F/F, FM/F}
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The contents of this story is of a sexual nature and should not be
read if you are under the age of 18, or are
are offended by explicit sexual and/or erotic writing.


Note.  Over the last few years I have down loaded a number of stories,
which I consider to be good ones, that are not attributed to an author
or are incomplete or both. I am reposting them for three reasons,
firstly to allow other readers to enjoy the stories, secondly in an
attempt to identify the author and finally if appropriate to obtain
the complete version of the story.

 Am I wasting my time?


Petra and the Train Journey. (I have added this title as the original
was untitled)
  
In a tightly packed carriage full of men Petra would have felt
embarrassed to be seen reading Cold Stone, Warm Flesh by Morticia
Chekhov.  However, she had selected her first-class accommodation with
care.  It contained only one other person, evidently a businesswoman
like herself, dressed in a severely cut navy-blue suit, making notes
on a foolscap pad.

Holding the book so the cover could not be seen, Petra began to read.
By the end of the first chapter the naive young heroine, Deliciosa,
had fallen into the hands of the cruel but charis matic Thaddeus who
took her back to the family castle.  By page thirty he had introduced
her to the delights of the old schoolroom and caned her bare bum, by
forty-five he had flogged her in the ancestral hall and on seventy he
was heating up meat skewers in the kitchen to pierce her nipples.

'Yuk,' said Petra out loud and the woman opposite looked at her keenly
through her black-rimmed spectacles.

Petra found it hard to believe Kelvin was turned on by this stuff.
Surely he didn't want to stick red-hot skewers into her nipples?
Evidently not. Whatever he was sticking where these days, it wasn't
into her.  She flicked on through the pages.

 On page ninety-five Deliciosa, now pierced, degraded and rendered
multi-orgasmic, was introduced to Thaddeus's former governess, an
imperious female with horn-rimmed spectacles whose first words to her
were-
   	
'Take off your knickers!'
 Petra's head jerked up, she could have sworn she had actually heard
the words.  The woman opposite was grinning at her.
   	
'Take off your knickers,' she repeated, 'that's what someone always
says to the heroine in those books.'
   	
'Oh,' said Petra.  'You're right.'
   	
'Of course.  And the silly girl goes around bare-arsed for the rest of
the story.  You can imagine what happens then.'
   	
'Quite.' Petra nodded, not wanting to appear ignorant.
   	
'So now you can put the book away and talk to me.  If you'd like to,
that is.'
   	
Behind the spectacles the stranger's eyes were almond shaped and
hazel-hued.  She had a wide curving mouth that tugged upwards at the
corners.  She didn't look kind but she did look interesting.  Petra
was surprised to find she did not resent being bullied like this.  She
put the book into her briefcase.
   	
'What do you want to talk about?' she asked.
	
'Your pretty little cunt, of course.'
   	
'Thee woman's smile was still in place but Petra felt as if she had
just been doused in cold water.
   	
'You can't talk to me like that!' she spluttered.
   	
'Why not?  If you don't like it you can go and sit somewhere else.'
   	
'I could report you.'
   	
'You could but there's no point - who'd believe vou? Anyway who's
reading pornography around here?  Not me.  If I were a man, of course,
Id never get away with saying something like that.  But, then, if I
were a man I wouldn't dare.'
   	
Petra stared at her, aghast.  There was no arguing with what she said.
   	
'So, take off your knickers and hand them over,' continued the woman.
'Unless you're not wearing any.'
   	
'Of course I'm wearing knickers.'
   	
'What colour?'
   	
'White.' Why did she say that?
   	
'How sweet.  Let me see.'
   	
Petra stood unsteadily, supporting herself with one hand as the train
rushed on.  With the other hand she raised the skirt of her short
summer dress.
   	
'Oh yes,' said the woman, leaning forward to gaze at Petra's bare
white thighs, 'you're quite a curvy little thing, aren't you?'
   	
'The hem of Petra's skirt had now reached the vee of her pantied
crotch and her hand shook as she lifted it the last few inches to
reveal herself.
   	
'White indeed,' said the woman, 'I rather hoped you'd be lying so I
could punish you.  Never mind, I'll find some other reason.'
  	 
'What?' Petra couldn't believe she was doing this.
	
'Take them off quickly.' The voice was harsh.  'Show me your cunt,
slut, and hurry up.'
   	
The words hit Petra like blows to the face.  She fumbled her panties
down her thighs and fell back onto her seat to slip them over her
shoes.
   	
'Who said you could sit down?  Stand up at once!' hissed her tormentor
and Petra jumped to her feet, her panties now in her hand.  The woman
snatched them from her and pressed them to her lips.
   	
'They're soaking wet,' she pronounced with a hoarse laugh.
	
'You delicious little baggage.  My, are we going to have fun! Now, let
me have a good look at vou . .
   	
And as the train rushed onwards Petra held her dress high and eased
her feet apart.  Maybe she was going crazy but she couldn't help
herself.  The woman leaned forward till her mouth was an inch from the
impudent curls of the exposed pussy.  Her eyes were on Petra's most
intimate secrets like a torch beam at midnight and her breath caressed
Petra's itching clitoris like a warm breeze off a summer sea.
   	
'Oh God, oh God, oh God,'she moaned softly.
   	
Though her persecutor had not even touched her, Petra knew she was
about to come. Petra knew her behaviour was shameful.  Standing there
on the train, holding her dress high to reveal her nude pussy mound to
a complete stranger - that was shameful.  Shameful and glorious.  She
couldn't help herself. The dark woman simply stared at her bared pubis
and Petra came.  The strength melted from her legs and she hung on to
the luggage rack with her free hand as her pelvis jerked convulsively.
She could feel the petals of her cunt opening before the woman's
penetrating gaze.  She could smell the perfume of her own excitement
thick in the air.  And she danced like a puppet and orgasmed in the
woman's face.
  	
The sound of the carriage door sliding open broke the spell.  Petra
fell back onto the seat in a confused and blushing heap, pulling her
skirt hastily down her thighs.
  	
'Good morning, ladies,' came the sound of a cheerful voice.  'I trust
you are enjoying the journey on this delightful morning.  May I remind
you there is a buffet car on this service, providing a variety of
delicacies - though I would recommend from personal experience that
you steer clear of the croissants.'
  	
Petra stared at the tall youth in uniform as though he were a man from
Mars.  The intrusion of everyday reality into this fantasy journey was
hard for her to take.  Her companion, on the other hand, was not fazed
for a moment.
  	
'I suppose youd like to see my ticket, Inspector.'
  	
'I would indeed, madam, though Id prefer to be called Phil.  We're
user friendly these days, especially to attractive ladies travelling
in first class.'
	
The woman flashed Phill a smile as she flashed her ticket. She looked
positively flirtatious. Petra reached for her handbag but the dark
woman suddenly grasped her hand, preventing her from opening it.
   	
'It's all right, darling,' she said to Petra, 'I've got yours here.'
And she held out her other hand to the railway inspector.
   	
Phil looked bemused as he took the white scrap of material from her.
Petra froze, rigid with panic.  She knew what he held in his hand.
   	
'Bloody hell,' he said as he unfolded Petra's tiny panties.
	
Then, bonhomie instantly replaced by suspicion, he	demanded,
'What's your game then?'
   	
'Just a little user-friendly fun,' said the woman.  'My friend's lost
her ticket but she can show you something else instead.'
 	
Petra said nothing, the odler woman was in control.  She could feel
the juice seeping out of her onto the seat beneath her bare buttocks.
   	
Phil was turning the panties over in his hand.  He fingered the damp
gusset.
   	
'Wet, aren't they?' said the woman.  'She can't help having such a
juicy quim.  Would you like to look at it?' Phil was speechless now
but the bulge in the grey serge of his trousers was unmistakable and
spoke volumes.
   	
The woman had removed Petra's bag from her lap and was looking at her.
Petra knew what she was expected to do - and she did it.
  	
'There!' cried the woman in triumph as Petra slowly pulled her skirt
up her thighs.  Her little black bush, framing two pink-frilled pussy
lips, sprang into view.  
	
'Isn't that a pretty sight?'
   	
Loquacious Phil was lost for words. just a grunt issued from his dry
throat but his appreciation of Petra's charms was obvious.
   	
'Perhaps you'd like a closer inspection, Inspector?  Why don't you
spread your legs, my dear, and let the gentleman have a good look.'
   	
Petra did as she was told, sliding forward on the seat and parting her
thighs.  Both her inner and outer lips were on full view and at the
top of her glistening sex-furrow her impatient clitoris throbbed.
   	
'Play with yourself,' came the order and Petra obeyed.  She drew her
fingers through her muff, fluffing out the silky hairs. She ran a slim
index finger around the edge of her gaping hole and up to the pearl of
her clit.  She nudged it with her long varnished nail and her whole
pelvis rippled in response. Breath hissed between her teeth.  She
stroked herself again.
   	
'Put your fingers in.' She did so, one then two.  Then the whole of
her hand as she rubbed the nub of her clit, ramming her knuckles into
her juicy slot and moaning out loud.  She couldn't have stopped
herself from coming if the entire railway inspectorate had entered the
carriage.
   	
'She's a complete slut, isn't she, Phil?' said the dark woman,
amusement and contempt in her voice.  	'Have you seen enough yet?  Or
is there something else my friend can do for you?'
   	
Petra hoped there was.  Her hand was still between her legs, gently
fingering her labia, keeping her raging desire on the boil.  Her eyes
were on Phil's flushed face - and on the swelling at his crotch.  He
looked as if he might burst out of his  trousers at any minute. He
made to move forward but  the dark woman seized his arm and held him
back.  
	
'Don't touch her,' she hissed.  'I want to look at you first.'
  	 
To Petra's surprise, he obeyed her Stood there motionless as the women
began to remove his trousers with a deft flick of the wrist she had
his belt undone. The zip yielded without a struggle, and within
secondsPhill found himself stepping dreamlike out of his shoes, socks
and trousers.The women took hold of the waistband of his boxer shorts
and began to tug at it. They slid down readily, enthusiastically even,
as Phill wriggled his hips a little to hasten the process. Now naked,
his prick sprang out into the sudden freedom and twitched
convulsively, searching for its target
	
'My, we're in luck,' said the woman and pulled his briefs to his
knees.
   	
Petra gave an involuntary moan as his cock sprang into view.  It was
sparsely haired and thick, the flaming-red head  gleaming with
excitement.  For two pins, she would have sunk it between her legs at
once.  But that was not permitted.  Yet.
   	
'Not bad,' said the orchestrator of this bizarre occasion. She peered
closely at the bobbing organ through her spectacles and, taking a
pencil from her jacket pocket, she used it to lift his heavy scrotum.

	
'Turn round,' she commanded and the two women surveyed his bronzed
back and the tight white
moons of his buttocks.
   	
'Do you want him?' the woman said to Petra.
   	
She nodded, her eyes bright.
   	
'Very well.  But you'll both have to do what I say.'
   	
She made Petra take offher dress and allowed Phil to fill his hands
with her small swaying breasts.  She positioned their bodies to her
liking, with him standing and Petra in his arms, her legs scissored
round his waist, her hands holding on to the luggage rack.  thus,
wrapped around each other in a hurtling train, the two of them made
intimate acquaintance. 
	
The dark woman took charge of their genitals, pressing the plum of his
stiff tool into the hungry vagina suspended above it. And then feeding
the fat length of him inside her. The weight of Petra's body drove her
down onto Phil's broad penis.  He stretched her wide and she howled as
she sat on him, bumping and shifting with the rush of the train.  His
mouth was on her upturned breasts and his hands held her up by her
arse cheeks, his fingers curling into the crack of her behind.  Petra
felt helpless, suspended in mid air, balancing on a stranger's cock,
hanging on to the rail above her lest he should be thrown off his feet
by a sudden jolt.
   	
It was incredible.  Every judder and shake of the train rubbed their
sex membranes together and sent electric thrills jolting down to their
nerve ends. Petra was no longer capable of rational thought.  Her body
was one mass of sensation.  The difficulty of sustaining the position
had delayed her satisfaction long enough - and she guessed her partner
felt the same way too.  He thrust up into her with carnal intent and
bit down on her nipple.  As a finger pushed at the dimple of her anus
and then sank in to the second knuckle she squealed and rubbed her
belly furiously against his.  If only he would reach round and diddle
her
clit ...
   
And then she felt something hard and slim nose into the gap between
their lunging loins.  With remarkable accuracy it  approached the hood
of her clitoris and applied the exact point of pressure that she
required.  Petra looked down and saw the dark-haired woman leaning
close to their lunging bodies.  With one hand she appeared to be
groping between  Phil's legs - fondling his balls maybe from the way
he was now bucking into her.  And with the other she was poking the
tip of a pencil onto Petra's aching, yearning clit.
  	 
'AAH!' Petra's squeal of ecstasy was drowned out by a shout from Phil
that reverberated throughout the carriage.
 	
'Oh God!' he yelled again as he emptied his balls into her and the two
of them collapsed onto the floor.  	
At that precise moment, the train began to slow down.
   	
Oh shit, I'm late!' cried Phil as he disentangled himself and
scrabbled frantically for his clothes. 'You're two wild women, I've
got to say that,' he added, grinning from ear to ear and hopping into
his trousers.  Suddenly he grabbed Petra's hand, 

'Just tell me one thing, darling - did the train move for you?' And he
backed out of the door laughing, his good humour quite restored.


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