Eugene Paisley (author)

Eugene paisley

Wanting him to expose himself to her feel.

He moved his hand further up beneath her dress, finding bare skin only.

She mewled, he groaned, moving closer, his ragged breathing music to her ears.

She felt both his hands between them. Felt him moving back to make room. Felt the thing she was waiting for. Felt his nakedness moving back to touch her.

She soared, her whispered moan unmistakable to him. 

She pushed back, feeling for his hardness. Arching her back as she sought him with her entrance. Every sense tingling with delight, so close to what she sought. Angling to find the right connection.

Then she felt him, spreading her, delicious. Her copious moisture paving the way.

She resisted the sudden urge to impale herself harshly, wanting to savour every millimetre.

The rising tide of her impending orgasm strained to tear down her resistance.

He moved back then thrust slowly in. Again, a little deeper. Again. Further still until he was hard against her.

He pulled nearly all the way out then thrust in fully tearing through her resistance.

The wave of her feelings washed over her, unstoppable this time. Crashing over her in a delicious wave of multiple delights.

Her soft embrace grabbing, milking, coaxing his manhood to discharge his maleness deep inside her.

He stopped, hard against her, exploding, spurting. Becky feeling every movement inside her, every spurt tingling her super sensitive sheath extending her orgasm.

Their moans lost in the murmur of the crowd. Their groans lost in the squealing of the trains wheels against the curves.

Their moment together floating, every movement a delicious agony. Their muscles still clenching, their orgasms still going never seeming to end. His soldiers streaming out to find their target. The world around them forgotten. Only their joining protruding through their consciousness.

Then the receding, their passions waning. Noises and movement starting to reassert themselves into their minds.

The furtive glances to see if anyone noticed, the train slowing.

His softening followed by his removal, their combined slickness spilling out. Their hurried straightening, checking everything is covered.

The crowd streaming for the exit breaking the spell and life moving on.

The remains of their tryst running down her thighs, not looking back, Becky hurried to the bathroom a satisfied smile spread across her face.

In the stall she composed herself and cleaned her face, touching up her makeup. loving the feeling of their liquids running down her thighs and squeezing to allow more to follow, watching it flow.

She felt good. Felt like shouting to the world "I did it!"

She thought of her husband, no guilt, no one would know. Anonymous. 

Satisfied, so completely satisfied. She smiled, no regrets.

She bent to clean up the white trails … oh shit.

She remembered the pills in her drawer at home from a couple of years ago … unused.

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