Chapter 2:

Emma could now catch a glimpse of the brunette’s tanned taut tummy.

And a sixth…

Was that a tattoo? Close to the woman’s belly button was a little drawing of an ice-cream cone melting in the hot sun. It described rather neatly how Emma was feeling at that precise moment, and the younger woman bit her bottom lip involuntarily, trying to hold in the desire and hunger that was welling up inside her.

"Er, do you know if there is far to go?" Emma offered, a little awkwardly.

At this, the older woman leaned right across, her blouse completely undone now. The blonde saw the woman’s full cleavage, tanned and firm under that white bra. Pushing aside Emma’s fair hair, the woman moved her lips to the blonde’s left ear: “How far do you want me to go?”, she whispered.”

Emma did not answer, but watched intently as the woman resumed her seat. The blonde’s lips were slightly parted now. Her mouth was dry, and she was even a little breathless. She lifted up the magazine again, as if to protect herself from something, but now made no pretence of reading. Instead, her eyes were fixed firmly on the half-dressed brunette in front of her, wondering, willing, wishing, wanting…

And sure enough, the woman, who had resumed reading her book with one hand, moved the other to a small brass popper at the front of her shimmering black skirt…

This was really outrageous! But it was outrageously sexy, too, and Emma, now sweating as well as blushing, was beginning to feel like just so much putty in this pretty woman’s hands. She felt as though she had been plunged into some sort of heady micro-climate, and the sense of being in a sweaty, dizzy haze was intensified when the blonde noticed that the woman’s skirt, like her blouse, had buttons all the way down the front. 

Emma was now becoming conscious of changes in her own body too. Her nipples had swelled considerably. Oh gosh, could they be seen through her white blouse? She also sensed that beneath the respectable midi-length black skirt that the blonde liked to wear for lecturing, there was not only a gathering warmth but a distinct wetness too.

The brunette’s skirt began to part a little and Emma thought she caught a glimpse of pure white underneath the black.

Was this really happening?

And then… And then the train began to slow. Emma looked out of the window and, seeing the first sustained spread of green fields after the greys and browns of London, she realised they were already coming into Northampton. Damn! Just when things were getting… Well, they’d been interesting for sometime, but just when they were getting downright amazing!

Within a moment, the brunette was quickly buttoning up her skirt and then her blouse. Her fingers were fast and nimble, and suddenly she was respectable again. Was that the end of the brief encounter, Emma wondered, or could they, perhaps, make some kind of arrangement to meet? Surely this was not going to be just a weird, incredible and ultimately frustrating ‘one off’? No words were exchanged between the two woman as the train slowed into the station. Summoning all her courage, the blonde suggested haltingly and rather awkwardly, “Maybe… er, maybe… I can see you again?”.

The brunette’s reply was matter-of-fact as she reached into her small black handbag: “This is my card.”

Smiling happily and glancing briefly at some italic lettering without really taking anything in, Emma slipped the card into her own handbag.

And then, just as suddenly as she had arrived, the incredible woman was gone.

Chapter 2:

Emma could now catch a glimpse of the brunette’s tanned taut tummy.

And a sixth…

Was that a tattoo? Close to the woman’s belly button was a little drawing of an ice-cream cone melting in the hot sun. It described rather neatly how Emma was feeling at that precise moment, and the younger woman bit her bottom lip involuntarily, trying to hold in the desire and hunger that was welling up inside her.

"Er, do you know if there is far to go?" Emma offered, a little awkwardly.

At this, the older woman leaned right across, her blouse completely undone now. The blonde saw the woman’s full cleavage, tanned and firm under that white bra. Pushing aside Emma’s fair hair, the woman moved her lips to the blonde’s left ear: “How far do you want me to go?”, she whispered.”

Emma did not answer, but watched intently as the woman resumed her seat. The blonde’s lips were slightly parted now. Her mouth was dry, and she was even a little breathless. She lifted up the magazine again, as if to protect herself from something, but now made no pretence of reading. Instead, her eyes were fixed firmly on the half-dressed brunette in front of her, wondering, willing, wishing, wanting…

And sure enough, the woman, who had resumed reading her book with one hand, moved the other to a small brass popper at the front of her shimmering black skirt…

This was really outrageous! But it was outrageously sexy, too, and Emma, now sweating as well as blushing, was beginning to feel like just so much putty in this pretty woman’s hands. She felt as though she had been plunged into some sort of heady micro-climate, and the sense of being in a sweaty, dizzy haze was intensified when the blonde noticed that the woman’s skirt, like her blouse, had buttons all the way down the front.

Emma was now becoming conscious of changes in her own body too. Her nipples had swelled considerably. Oh gosh, could they be seen through her white blouse? She also sensed that beneath the respectable midi-length black skirt that the blonde liked to wear for lecturing, there was not only a gathering warmth but a distinct wetness too.

The brunette’s skirt began to part a little and Emma thought she caught a glimpse of pure white underneath the black.

Was this really happening?

And then… And then the train began to slow. Emma looked out of the window and, seeing the first sustained spread of green fields after the greys and browns of London, she realised they were already coming into Northampton. Damn! Just when things were getting… Well, they’d been interesting for sometime, but just when they were getting downright amazing!

Within a moment, the brunette was quickly buttoning up her skirt and then her blouse. Her fingers were fast and nimble, and suddenly she was respectable again. Was that the end of the brief encounter, Emma wondered, or could they, perhaps, make some kind of arrangement to meet? Surely this was not going to be just a weird, incredible and ultimately frustrating ‘one off’? No words were exchanged between the two woman as the train slowed into the station. Summoning all her courage, the blonde suggested haltingly and rather awkwardly, “Maybe… er, maybe… I can see you again?”.

The brunette’s reply was matter-of-fact as she reached into her small black handbag: “This is my card.”

Smiling happily and glancing briefly at some italic lettering without really taking anything in, Emma slipped the card into her own handbag.

And then, just as suddenly as she had arrived, the incredible woman was gone.

Chapter 1

“After an early start and several hours struggling between her office and the campus library, Emma scrambled aboard the 4.35 to Northampton clutching a briefcase, a black Prada handbag and a plastic bag containing microwaveable carbonara and an instant apple tart. She couldn’t face doing her marking. Instead, she pulled out a copy of Home Interiors before unwrapping a Bounty chocolate bar with almost unseemly haste.
As she put her briefcase in the overhead rack, Emma took the chance to glance backwards at her fellow passengers. She was good at taking in information on several people at once, and she liked to guess what people did for a living. There was the usual sprinkling of smartly turned out city types, a nurse (that was an easy one!), and a red-eyed man of about 30 with died blonde hair and pink glasses who might have just come from a long lunch with his media buddies in Oxford Street. Next to Mr Pink Glasses was an elderly man, clearly well off with a nice tweed jacket not quite obscuring his ample belly - perhaps a retired lawyer.
As Emma turned back to her seat, she congratulated herself on finding a little corner of the compartment where she could be pleasantly alone. The early start for home had certainly helped in that respect, and the carriage was much less crowded than usual. The seat next to her and the seats opposite were all empty, and, surprisingly, so was the bank of seats to her right. Then, just as the train doors were closing, she heard the sound of running and an extremely attractive woman with several oversized shopping bags plonked herself on the seat opposite.
The woman must have been about 35 years old, very fashionable, maybe working in a up-market shop or in advertising or somewhere in Covent Garden. She had dreamy brown eyes and luscious curled dark brown hair. With a coffee complexion, the woman looked a little bit Italian or maybe Spanish. Without pausing to take in her surroundings, the woman quickly pulled out a book and began to read. It was ‘The Tempist’, by William Shakespeare. “Intelligent!,” Emma thought to herself. “I’m intrigued!”
Emma began to read her own magazine and was browsing the dream homes when suddenly she felt a finger touching her knee lightly like a butterfly. “Sorry to bother you,” a warm and slightly husky voice interjected, “but this is the train to Northampton, isn’t it?” Emma looked up to find this gorgeous woman was leaning over towards her with a bright and friendly smile. “Oh, yes,” Emma replied, a little flustered. “Yes, yes, Northampton, yes, exactly.” The woman’s heady perfume smelled a little of apples.
The brunette sat back in her seat and picked up her book again. A few seconds later, she offered, in that same honeyed tone, “You like apples?”
“Oh, yes, er, thank you very much,” said Emma and the woman quickly pulled out a market stall-style brown paper bag, stretching her arm out towards her travelling companion. “I really love apples!”. Emma said, sounding almost gushing in her enthusiasm and rather wishing she’d toned it down a little.
Ripe fruit consumed, the two women resumed their reading. But Emma could somehow not keep from glancing periodically at the woman. Of course, she had immediately registered that this was an extremely attractive brunette, but Emma soon began to form a different view: this woman was not just attractive but actually compellingly beautiful. Her high cheekbones, large dark brown eyes and full lips were offset with a long neck, broad shoulders, and a fit lithe body that seemed to ripple and shimmer in a blue silk blouse and plain black skirt.
Glancing up one more time, Emma had the distinct impression that an extra button was undone on the woman’s blouse. Could that really be the case? She was intrigued, but went back to her article on landscape gardening and tried hard to concentrate. After a minute or so, she glanced again at the brunette’s neckline. This time Emma was pretty certain – yet another button had been undone! Could this really be happening? All the while, the woman did not look up but remained focused on her book.
Emma, feeling distinctly flustered now, wasn’t sure how to interpret this intriguing turn of events. Was it hot in the carriage, perhaps? True, the British summer had finally broken through the clouds that afternoon but, no, if anything, the air conditioning had made it rather cool in the compartment. So what in the world was going on?
Somehow the discussion of rock gardens and topiary in Emma’s magazine article was losing a little of its allure, but she tried her best to retain her composure and take in the words on the page. At the same time, she sensed – though it was hard to believe – that the woman’s elegant ring-clad fingers were edging towards the centre of that blue blouse again, and when Emma looked up one more time, she was not disappointed. A fourth button had now been undone, and she could see a fragment of white lace on the woman’s bra.
The brunette’s breasts were small  but high, and Emma felt a warm rush in her stomach and a flush of blood coming to her cheeks. She had always been pretty straight in her sexual preferences and liaisons, the odd ‘girl dream’ here and there, but this beautiful lady was definitely tapping into something a bit different. Not only was Emma in awe of the woman’s super-fit body and cultured-but-natural looks; she was also in awe of the brunette’s nerve – this woman was virtually undressing on a public train! Admittedly, the lawyer, the nurse and Mr Pink Glasses could not see the girl, but they only had to stand suddenly, and she would immediately be ‘exposed’.
And a fifth button!”
—————————————————————-
• (Chapter 2 coming shortly, please review and let me know what you guys think).
• I don’t own the Once Upon A Time characters, I wish I did but I done lol. All mistakes are my own, please enjoy!

Chapter 1

“After an early start and several hours struggling between her office and the campus library, Emma scrambled aboard the 4.35 to Northampton clutching a briefcase, a black Prada handbag and a plastic bag containing microwaveable carbonara and an instant apple tart. She couldn’t face doing her marking. Instead, she pulled out a copy of Home Interiors before unwrapping a Bounty chocolate bar with almost unseemly haste.

As she put her briefcase in the overhead rack, Emma took the chance to glance backwards at her fellow passengers. She was good at taking in information on several people at once, and she liked to guess what people did for a living. There was the usual sprinkling of smartly turned out city types, a nurse (that was an easy one!), and a red-eyed man of about 30 with died blonde hair and pink glasses who might have just come from a long lunch with his media buddies in Oxford Street. Next to Mr Pink Glasses was an elderly man, clearly well off with a nice tweed jacket not quite obscuring his ample belly - perhaps a retired lawyer.

As Emma turned back to her seat, she congratulated herself on finding a little corner of the compartment where she could be pleasantly alone. The early start for home had certainly helped in that respect, and the carriage was much less crowded than usual. The seat next to her and the seats opposite were all empty, and, surprisingly, so was the bank of seats to her right. Then, just as the train doors were closing, she heard the sound of running and an extremely attractive woman with several oversized shopping bags plonked herself on the seat opposite.

The woman must have been about 35 years old, very fashionable, maybe working in a up-market shop or in advertising or somewhere in Covent Garden. She had dreamy brown eyes and luscious curled dark brown hair. With a coffee complexion, the woman looked a little bit Italian or maybe Spanish. Without pausing to take in her surroundings, the woman quickly pulled out a book and began to read. It was ‘The Tempist’, by William Shakespeare. “Intelligent!,” Emma thought to herself. “I’m intrigued!”

Emma began to read her own magazine and was browsing the dream homes when suddenly she felt a finger touching her knee lightly like a butterfly. “Sorry to bother you,” a warm and slightly husky voice interjected, “but this is the train to Northampton, isn’t it?” Emma looked up to find this gorgeous woman was leaning over towards her with a bright and friendly smile. “Oh, yes,” Emma replied, a little flustered. “Yes, yes, Northampton, yes, exactly.” The woman’s heady perfume smelled a little of apples.

The brunette sat back in her seat and picked up her book again. A few seconds later, she offered, in that same honeyed tone, “You like apples?”

“Oh, yes, er, thank you very much,” said Emma and the woman quickly pulled out a market stall-style brown paper bag, stretching her arm out towards her travelling companion. “I really love apples!”. Emma said, sounding almost gushing in her enthusiasm and rather wishing she’d toned it down a little.

Ripe fruit consumed, the two women resumed their reading. But Emma could somehow not keep from glancing periodically at the woman. Of course, she had immediately registered that this was an extremely attractive brunette, but Emma soon began to form a different view: this woman was not just attractive but actually compellingly beautiful. Her high cheekbones, large dark brown eyes and full lips were offset with a long neck, broad shoulders, and a fit lithe body that seemed to ripple and shimmer in a blue silk blouse and plain black skirt.

Glancing up one more time, Emma had the distinct impression that an extra button was undone on the woman’s blouse. Could that really be the case? She was intrigued, but went back to her article on landscape gardening and tried hard to concentrate. After a minute or so, she glanced again at the brunette’s neckline. This time Emma was pretty certain – yet another button had been undone! Could this really be happening? All the while, the woman did not look up but remained focused on her book.

Emma, feeling distinctly flustered now, wasn’t sure how to interpret this intriguing turn of events. Was it hot in the carriage, perhaps? True, the British summer had finally broken through the clouds that afternoon but, no, if anything, the air conditioning had made it rather cool in the compartment. So what in the world was going on?

Somehow the discussion of rock gardens and topiary in Emma’s magazine article was losing a little of its allure, but she tried her best to retain her composure and take in the words on the page. At the same time, she sensed – though it was hard to believe – that the woman’s elegant ring-clad fingers were edging towards the centre of that blue blouse again, and when Emma looked up one more time, she was not disappointed. A fourth button had now been undone, and she could see a fragment of white lace on the woman’s bra.

The brunette’s breasts were small but high, and Emma felt a warm rush in her stomach and a flush of blood coming to her cheeks. She had always been pretty straight in her sexual preferences and liaisons, the odd ‘girl dream’ here and there, but this beautiful lady was definitely tapping into something a bit different. Not only was Emma in awe of the woman’s super-fit body and cultured-but-natural looks; she was also in awe of the brunette’s nerve – this woman was virtually undressing on a public train! Admittedly, the lawyer, the nurse and Mr Pink Glasses could not see the girl, but they only had to stand suddenly, and she would immediately be ‘exposed’.

And a fifth button!”
—————————————————————-
• (Chapter 2 coming shortly, please review and let me know what you guys think).
• I don’t own the Once Upon A Time characters, I wish I did but I done lol. All mistakes are my own, please enjoy!

fuckyeah-emmaswan

emmafoundtallahassee:

Here’s a video of the scene right now outside of the sherif station. Sorry the sound isn’t ideal.

And wouldn’t think anyone would want to but if you’re gonna gif/edit just credit me please. Thanks!!