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.