Bitch and Dicking: Slut in the Train

Bitch and Dicking: Slut in the Train

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Masturbation.......in the train.........

Summary

Masturbation.......in the train.........

Content

Submitted: April 22, 2015

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Content

Submitted: April 22, 2015

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I feel like this great, endless mass of darkness here in this train is going to swallow and eat me up eventually. From corner to corner, it is all dark. The lights are really there and even burning bright and radiantly, but then they are far away and spaced widely, flickering with a faint, dim- like white yellowish beam that seems to be only lighting up the passages themselves. Jace Dicking, my lovely and calm husband, is sitting right here before my very watchful face and eyes, sagging his head so low to the extent and reality that I do not even know if he is really dozing or maybe he is just merely making this all up. I do not care regardless.

I sigh and heave out. I can feel the heat burning and searing slowly but assuredly into my very flesh. It is like this immense heat is roasting and cooking me up. It is strange though. Everyone around seems to be dressed in sweaters and jackets and warm but snug coats, while I myself, I feel so abnormally and strangely hot in this coat of mine that I have no other option other than to take and slip it away from me. This is what I exactly do.

Even with all this done and accomplished, I still do feel terribly hot and cruelly sweltering up. It is strange and bizzare--but I can't get myself to explain and resolve up this entire mystery. I am wondering quietly: What could be the exact cause for all this? I do not have any fever, but I feel as hot and burning as a red-hot oven itself. Maybe I should try taking off just my shirt this time. Slowly and unhurriedly, I strip and take it off. Maybe this will be any better. I wait and see. How could I be so daring and careless to fool myself in the first place? Not much has changed either, even with my brasserie left and clinging on to my breasts and back. I wheeze and sigh out, and consider slipping my jeans off to stay and remain in nothing other than my black, sexy, and very much arousing panties. They are not even panties. But a pair of clean, fresh, and regularly washed G-string. I do just like I have planned and thought to act out.

Still, I feel terribly and immensely hot. What could be the precise cause? Could it be that I alone of all the numerous people here in this public train am this so strange and exceptionally out of the ordinary? Could it be thus really? Who knows? Someone here, somewhere, could be feeling and undergoing the very same. Really!

I scowl and make a displeased face to myself. This must come to a precise ending. It truly and definitely must. Steadily and carefully, I use my hand to fetch for my towel that is packed somewhere in my bag, and once I stumble and come across it, I pick it gently and warily so to also fetch a bottle of cold water, the water of which I pour and spill out straightly onto the towel till soak and make it wet. With this explained and cleared up, I go on to clean and scrub my almost naked body--sluggishly, lazily, and with not much ease and effort additionally.

My breasts must be burning in this bra that is holding and bracing them up in their rightful shape and position. I pull down my bra itself suddenly so that my boobies are tugged and cast upwards to a clear and unmistakable view. Then with this achieved, I also begin to rinse and soak my beloved breasts, doing it all slowly and steadily and carefully. Yeah. At least this has made me feel much more better and relaxed. For sure.........

The cold towel feels nice and wonderful on my nipples. As I brush and stroke them with it, I feel my entire self and body harden and tense up in this great kind of sexual tension that is all too sweet and electrifying at the very same time. My mouth sags and drops open all of a sudden and unexpectedly. I almost laugh and giggle out loud as I brush and mop about my breasts with this icy-feeling, cold-striking form and brand of towel. I must not laugh out loud......I must not do this at all.

As time slips and sneaks by, I feel that the towel is drying up and fast losing its iciness and coldness that I am enjoying and delighting to be struck and afflicted with this very instant. I check the remaining water inside the bottle and find out that it still is not all that satisfyingly cold and freezing. It has lost its coldness and iciness too. Meaning that I cannot get myself to use it as freely and effortlessly as I have done with it before. But then what can I use this time around? What exactly and precisely?

I stumble across a bottle of cold wine that is as chilly and freezing as snow and ice itself. I think this will work and be suitable for now. Perhaps; perhaps not so! I open the bottle quietly and soundlessly and then spill and pour the wine in driblets and sluggish streams all over my entire body. Wonderful! This is so great and amazing. I am loving it like nothing else here.

As the cold, chilly wine trickles and seeps down my body, I feel my entire and whole self tickle and flush up. I like the chilled and wintry sensation that all this performance and undertaking brings and effects in me. Nothing should be this sweeter......nothing should be so wonderfully amazing and brilliant too!

At least for now........the temperature of my breasts and nipples start to drop and recede down. I feel calm and much more at ease and relaxation. This is better and preferable than the first state and scenario.

I lie and loll myself down on my unspeaking seat itself. I have to cool and hush down my burning back too. But for this one, I cannot do it all by myself. Someone else has to take care of it all for me. And who better other than my sweet happy innocent Jace Dicking himself?

I look at him. He is soundly and perfectly sleeping and I don't want to wake him up at all. I will let him rest and lay down, and see whatever it is that I can get myself to do for my entire and sole self significantly.

My vagina. That is where I feel the heat and its fierceness this time around. I simply move my bottle of wine towards it, then pop it open quietly another time, and spill and scatter about some drizzling drops on my private part itself. Of course! It is all shaved and cleaned up. I like and love it this way. It makes things much more easier and sexier even.

As the wine streams and runs through my sex, I tremble and shudder heavily from its terrible cold, and yet being so pleased and happy deep down my heart and senses. This is what I want. This is what I crave--and here I have it!

No! It is inside my very own vagina that I am feeling and being whipped by this excruciating and yet brilliantly satisfying cold. I close my eyes for an instant while, imagining and even picturing up what it will be like to have the wine spilled and gushed into my vagina itself. Wouldn't it be so great and fantastic? Well, I think so definitely. I put my fingers into my vagina first, slowly and smoothly, and then start to stir and jig them about. They are like my very own thermometer. Measuring and determining exactly how hot and hotter the temperature inside here is becoming. After this, I then keep my vagina wide open with the help and aiding of my fingers, and then spill and pour in some bit sweet of cold wine. I am afraid at first. I mean how will this feel like exactly in the coming minutes?

I wait and see......and there is no any bit of pain or strangeness at all. Everything is just perfectly fine and wonderful! I wonder what the hell and shit it was that I was terribly scared about in the very first place. Everything here seems all fine and very much enjoyable. I sigh to myself and then spill and pour more and lots more of wine. It all fills and collects up inside my vagina, with some of it going on to spill and topple its way out. As it fizzles and hisses out beautifully, I glance and look up straight at Jace, hoping and thinking and dreading that he might fall back fully and consciously awake any moment starting now. He doesn't awaken instead. I smile and grin happily to myself. At least he will not notice and observe all this slutty and sexy damn drama of mine. No! He surely and categorically will not.

The wine seems to bubble and foam up. It is all dark and lightless, except in the corridors of this speedy moving train, so I do not see and observe all this darkly-concealed process of mine. It is not that I am all horny and bitchy this very exact moment. I just happen to be so hot and boiled up that I need to do something to keep myself and my body cool and chilled up too.

Wine inside my vagina? This is the most weird and absurd thing that I have ever yet done, and yet I do not seem to care or mind about it at all. I mean it is all such a witty brilliant and wonderful idea. It is genius in some way, and not all so mastermind and big-brain on the other hand too. I am thinking quietly: How about spilling some bit cold wine direct into my own anus or butt-hole? That sounds great and a lot more way too fun besides. I lean and lie down straight on my seat with my stomach, and with this said and made clear, I lift and then arch and bend myself back upwards so that I am finally able to spill and splosh in some bit chilly sweet icy wine straight into my anus. Wonderful! It is all too magnificent and incredible then again. I love and definitely cherish it. Don't you yourself?

The wine leaks and drips straight into my butt hole, steadily, bit by bit, and enjoyably. I shut and seal my eyes as all this happens, dreading and fearing that I might encounter some horror-worse and unbearable pain as a result of my carelessness and thoughtlessness. I do not however, and I am so glad and pleased about it. I feel my buttocks contract and squeeze on the insides, the flesh of my anus itself pinching and tightening up in a brilliant way and manner that I enjoy and adore so very much. To be honest and frank damn downright with you and I myself, I had no any tiny bit idea or clue that this was all going to be brilliantly hilarious and all too keenly enjoyable what's more. I want to repeat it another time, then another, and finally and eventually the last one as well.

For a while I stop all this, letting the wine work and melt its way deep and more deeper into my anus. Part of it does go and vanish that very far, but then the other stream or trickle--it all streams and cascades back and then ultimately out. I sigh and breathe out at this, happy, delighted, enthusiastic and enlivened up. My goodness! This was the most wonderful and enjoyable thing ever. I liked it like nothing else. After I am done breathing and panting out, I pour some bit of wine into my hand so that I can smear and rub it all over my buttocks and vagina and breasts. My body is so sensitive and active to all this that it without fail has me orgasm and come with solely this. It is night. The sky is too dark with no mite of light and lots and hordes more of pitchy clouds out there, but when I look out the window of the train, I think and believe that I see so many stars orbiting and decking up the beautiful heaven itself. Maybe this vision and spectacle of mine is so real and factual.......or maybe it is not so.

Oh my goodness! I think and do feel that this is the most beautiful and gorgeous orgasm ever in my life. I enjoy and savor and relish it to the very last bit and sense. Oh yes, I truthfully and honestly do.

Brilliant! All these deeds of mine have worked perfectly fine for this moment. Now I must do some naked show-time fun sprawl on the giant window of this moving train. But then it has to be all done perfectly quiet and soundless in such a way and manner that Jace who is fast sleeping here doesn't have to notice or sight a bit of thing. I stand up quietly and calmly, then walk to the window of the train just opposite us, and once I have made it to it, I slide and slip it open smoothly quiet and soundlessly. Yes! Things ought to be done just like this. I stand before the streaming air, almost naked in every inch and way, and then close my eyes to enjoy and relish the air as it blows and ripples mutely past me. I caress my breasts with my very own hands, my eyes sealed and fastened, my senses and emotions blissful and heavenly, my thinking blank and brought inevitably to a hurried halt for this current moment. For now, I do not have to think about anything. Absolutely no any kind of thing at all. I must simply be quiet and unmeditative. These moments are so wonderful and beautifully glorious they do not deserve to be thrown and laid off just like that. No way possible.

I turn my head back to peek at Jace. He is still slumbering and quietly sleeping. I wish that he was wide and fully awake to see all of this. I wish we were alone in some private room, for example at our house, where we can freely and without any form of reservation do whatever thing in the world it is that we feel like doing. I miss those wonderful and beautiful sex nights of ours that we shared and enjoyed only a couple days back. We are just coming back from spending four days at his granddad's place far there in Alaska. We had sex, several times in a day, but it was all nothing in comparison with what we always share and enjoy ahead there at our deserted and lonesome home. I can't wait to be back home with him again and then embrace him into my loving and welcome arms and push and shove him down to our king-size, majestic bed so that I can lie down and seat on top of him.


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