St. Pancras Station, London, England. It was January. It was 35F and it was a million miles away from Florida.
Jenna curled her cold fingers around her paper coffee cup and closed her eyes, trying to conjure up the heat of a Miami afternoon. If she concentrated hard enough, she could see Wolfe's naked body spread on a white bed, his tanned skin glistening with sweat, his cock hard and ready for action.
She sighed and opened her eyes again, to see the overworked masses hurrying past her, their skin pale, their bodies swathed in clothes. What had possessed her to accept this assignment in the depths of a European winter? She must have been crazy, to have left Wolfe on his own with all that temptation surrounding him. He wasn't going to be there when she got back, she just knew it. A guy like him, who could have anyone he wanted, male or female, was hardly going to stick around while she raced around Europe on the whim of some stupid magazine editor.
She glanced across the station concourse at all those sad, busy people and her eyes suddenly settled on a man standing still and alone. He was tall and broad, in an expensive wool coat. Dark, short hair and very blue eyes she noticed as he suddenly looked straight at her. He gave her a slow and lazy smile. Her pussy leapt happily beneath her tight pencil skirt. Wow, maybe there were some advantages to your lover being on the other side of the Atlantic after all. It was a shame her train was due to depart in thirty minutes. Even so, she held his gaze and shifted slightly in her chair, crossing her legs slowly so he could have a good view of her stocking clad legs and new high-heeled shoes, bought especially for Paris. It worked, because his eyes wandered downwards and she saw he was lost for a moment.
Time to go. She took her time standing up now she had an audience, bending over slowly to pull the handle from her case, wiggling her butt slightly, and glancing over her shoulder as she strolled over to check-in. He was watching her go, with an appreciative smile.
The train was cramped and humid despite the cold weather outside. Jenna shrugged out of her coat, knocking her elbows against the seat back and making the old man next to her grimace. His wife had already filled the table with packaged sandwiches and bottles of water, leaving no space for Jenna's laptop so she just squashed herself against the window and stared out at the barren looking platform. Her phone buzzed in her bag and the old lady gave her an evil look as she dug it out and checked the message. Her damned editor again. She hadn't even met him yet and he already seemed to think she was at his beck and call. He was obsessively messaging her about the photographer she was due to meet up with in Paris.
"Excuse me," a polite voice was saying and the old lady was getting up with a fuss of coats and bags and sandwiches as more coats and bags were deposited on the overhead shelf and more polite British apologies were given. "Terribly sorry." Jenna looked up at the sound of a pleasant voice to be met by a familiar pair of amused blue eyes. He was grinning at her from the seat opposite and her pussy was very pleased to see him, so pleased she had to grip the table with one hand to stop herself from trembling.
"Hello," he said.
She swallowed hard and managed to give him a shaky smile, as her panties suddenly felt very damp. God, he was gorgeous. And he was wearing a wedding ring.
The train shuddered into movement and one of his legs nonchalantly eased between her knees. Jenna's nipples hardened under her cashmere sweater. From the darkening of his eyes, she could tell he had noticed.
"Going to Paris on business?" he asked, moving his leg slightly so it brushed against her stockinged calf.
"Yes," she replied. "You?"
"Just for the day, unfortunately. Back this evening." His eyes were full of suggestion.
"I've never taken Eurostar before," she said. "How long is the journey?"
"It's surprisingly fast," he said with a smirk.
He took out a newspaper from his briefcase and they all shared a companionable silence for a while. The elderly couple finished their sandwiches and got out paperback books. Jenna managed to wrestle enough space for her laptop and did some preparation work for the interview, occasionally feeling the pressure of his leg against her knee, his foot against her shoe. She glanced at his hands holding the paper, at his manicured fingernails and his strong fingers and her mind wandered to imagining what they would feel like running over her skin, pinching her nipples, sinking into her wetness. She wanted to press her thighs together but his long leg thrust between her knees was preventing that and instead she had to bear the torture of having her legs slightly spread, her silk clad pussy almost open to the elements. If only he could lean under the table and tug her panties to one side and put her out of her misery! She nearly groaned at the thought of it.
Suddenly he smartly folded his paper and placing it on the table, said to the old lady next to him, "Excuse me, I think I need some fresh air," and getting up slowly so that his crotch was for a brief moment at Jenna's eye level, he struggled past the table and into the aisle.
Jenna took a deep breath. No doubt about it, that had been a hard-on she had seen in his pants, one that he had been happy for her to notice.
She waited for a decent amount of time and then politely asking the old man to move, followed the aroused cock down the aisle.
He was leaning against the wall at the end of the carriage smiling his lazy smile. He was an arrogant bastard but she didn't care. And without any hesitation he reached out and grabbed her by her ass and dragged her against his hard crotch, pushing one foot between hers.
"You're begging for it, aren't you?" he growled into her ear.
Jesus, what happened to the polite English gentleman? But her body didn't seem to mind. She was so turned on she would have been tearing at his flies if they hadn't been in public.
His hand grabbed her tit through the cashmere and pinched her nipple making her squirm, his cock growing harder against her belly. She reached down and stroked him through his wool trousers. He was such a satisfying handful, so rigid and tight in his pants she could barely contain herself.
"If we were alone," he groaned, "I would fuck you for hours."
He kneaded her butt cheeks as she ground against his erection, feeling the pressure work her clit until she was gasping into his neck. Then he took her mouth, plundering her with his tongue in the way he so badly wanted to do with his cock, grabbing the back of her head and greedily devouring her. When he pulled away his eyes were glazed and his cock was straining the fly of his trousers as if it were about to burst the seems.
"If I wasn't married," he said longingly, "I would tear your knickers off you and eat you out until you were screaming."
Oh God, do it anyway, Jenna almost said. But instead she gazed up into his face and pressing her tits against his chest, stroked his straining crotch, finding the tab of the zipper and easing it down slightly. His blue eyes flashed with surprise as she eased her fingers inside and found the head of his cock, wet with pre cum. He shook against her as she slipped over his sensitive tip; his eyes squeezed shut with the painful pleasure.
"You bitch," he gasped through gritted teeth and threw his head back against the wall, his cock growing even harder under her slippery fingers.
Then suddenly there was the whooshing sound of the automatic door and Jenna whipped her hand away from his pants.
"'Scuse me," an embarrassed voice said as someone pushed past them.
He looked down at her, eyes still clouded over and a decision seemed to pass their blue depths as he roughly grabbed Jenna's upper arms and pushed her into the toilet cubicle just behind her. Locking the door behind him, he stood breathing heavily and looked down at her.
Now what? Was he going to do all those things that he said? In this tiny, rocking space?
"Turn round," he said roughly.
Jenna did as he said, surprisingly willing to do whatever he wanted. Pressing himself against her back he roughly yanked her skirt up, running his hands up her legs as he went until he found the bare skin at the top of her thighs.
"Stockings," he said in rough whisper. "Handy."
Then she could hear him unzip his flies and before she could even take a breath, he had pulled her panties to one side and his cock was nudging against her ass. She angled herself upwards so he could find her pussy, so wet by now that he slipped in easily with a long moan, staying there for a while as he pulsed inside her. God, he was big. She gyrated against him to ease him in even further, her tight pussy gripping his thick length. She pushed her palms high up against the wall and sighed.
"Fuck that's good," he groaned against her neck, as he slowly eased out and then roughly slammed back in again.
Her pussy convulsed as he stretched her wider and she helplessly cried out. He clamped one hand over her mouth, the other grabbing her waist as he pounded into her, his breath coming in short sharp gasps as his rhythm became more frantic, his belt buckle bashing against her tender flesh. She breathed in the scent of his expensive aftershave and felt the waves of her climax approaching with each of his increasingly merciless thrusts. As the sound of his deep moans filled the tiny cabin, she slipped her hand into her panties and rubbed her clit, her entire body throbbing with pleasure.
"That's it baby, make yourself come," he growled, keeping up the unrelenting rhythm, his hand suddenly letting go of her waist to yank her panties free to give his furiously pounding cock better access.
Her orgasm came so powerfully her legs almost gave way from under her, her muffled cries spurring him on.
"Fuck that's it," he gasped. "That's fucking it! I'm going to fucking come inside you!" And with one last deep thrust he heaved into her, shooting his load so far inside her she could feel it hit her cervix.
They returned to their seats separately. He spent the rest of the journey perusing his newspaper with a sly little smile on his face, occasionally glancing at her and giving her a hot knowing look. Jenna knew he was thinking about his spunk that was right now beginning to drip down her bare thighs.