-------- ASSTR Standard Headers --------
Author: Altan
Title: The on the Train
Keywords: exhib nosex
Date: June 2001
-------- End of Standard Headers --------
This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are not allowed to
read such material, or if such material offends you, please stop
reading now.
This is copyrighted (C) June 2001 by Altan. Permission is
granted for this to be reproduced and archived in the
context of the newsgroup(s) to which it is posted by the author.
In addition, the reader is allowed to make copies in electronic
format and on paper for his or her personal use only. For all
other uses, please consult the copyright statement in
http://www.asstr.org/~altan/copyright.html.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The on the Train (exhib nosex)
by Altan
It is a warm summer day and I am taking the train to
Philadelphia, meeting a client. I'm making this trip every month
now, but this time will be different, a two-day trip. I'm not
really looking forward to this; I'd rather be at home tonight.
But the client insisted on a two-day session, and according to my
boss it is cheaper to get a hotel than to drive up twice.
As usual, I'm far too early, so I put my put down my carrying
case with the laptop (I put my change of and underwear in
there so that I don't need to carry more luggage around) and
start looking around. I love watching people, trying to imagine
what they are doing. I always keep an eye out for attractive
women, following them with my eyes inconspicuously. Sometimes I
get lucky and I find one who is not wearing a bra. Seeing the
shape and movement of unconstrained is one of the most
beautiful sights in the world.
Today things are slow. The platform is almost deserted. There is
a business over at the other end, yapping in his cell phone.
A in standard (and very decent) vacation outfit of T-shirt
and shorts is studying the timetable. And beyond me, at the very
end of the platform, is a woman in business suit. She must be
sweating like crazy with all those layers, standing in the hot
sun.
I loose myself thinking about business attire, wondering how it
came into being and why it is so uncomfortable. I'm wearing a
business suit myself, with white and tie. However, I have
my jacket folded over my carrying bag, and still I'm hot. I'm
hoping the train will come soon.
I don't see her coming out of the station building, but when I
look around, there she is. My heart almost skips a beat when I
see what she is wearing. Not because of the long white skirt, but
because of her T-shirt. It is white, and the bottom half of it is
an open mesh, with thin strands and dime-size holes, showing off
her brown belly.
While I'm trying not to look, she wanders over to my side of the
platform. Getting a closer look confirms what I couldn't believe
at first--the open part of her starts right at her breasts,
leaving their undersides exposed. Obviously she is not wearing
anything underneath.
I try to control my pounding heart when the train rumbles into
the station. I pick up my carrying case when she passes me and
make sure I'm right behind her when the train comes to a stop. We
let a and a woman come out of the train and then she starts
to pick up her suitcase, which she had been pulling behind her on
its wheels.
"Can I help you with that?" I ask quickly.
She looks at me and smiles. "Yes, please," she says with a soft
voice.
I pick up her suitcase and carry it into the train. "Thank you!"
she whispers.
Inside, the train is very full, but there is one double seat
empty--probably just vacated by the pair who left the train. If
she would just pick that seat, I could sit down next to her and
maybe manage to get an even better look at her body!
I can hardly believe my luck when she does stop at the double
seat. Without thinking I ask, "Do you want your suitcase in the
coat rack?" and, after putting it up, sit down next to her.
"Thank you," she says again with a smile and then starts looking
out of the window.
* * *
I know I am staring, but it doesn't matter since she is looking
the other way. Her dark skin and shoulder-length black hair
contrast perfectly with the pure white clothes. Of course, my
eyes are drawn like magic to the smooth curves of soft flesh that
are visible through her T-shirt.
But before I can think of something to say, the train begins to
move and we are leaving the station. When the corridor is empty,
she turns and starts to get up.
"Excuse me please," she says and I move my legs to let her pass.
Her back passes just in front of me as she squeezes past. But
then she turns around and, standing on her toes, reaches up to
her suitcase. As she does this, her T-shirt moves up further,
exposing even more of her breasts. I catch myself staring right
at her nipples!
At that moment, I decide that I have nothing to loose by being
bold. I don't know what she is up to, but she must know how much
she is showing. Maybe she is purposefully showing off, or she
just doesn't care. Either way, I don't think she would be
insulted if I let her know I that I enjoy the show.
"I like the way you dress," I say when she sits down again, now
with a book she had taken from her suitcase. She just gives me
one of her smiles as answer, which I take as encouragement.
"Where are you going?" I ask.
"Philadelphia..."
"So am I," I say. "I'm John. Nice to meet you!"
She smiles again, but does not answer. Instead, she turns to her
book and starts reading. I'm not quite sure what to make of that.
In the end, I decide she must be afraid to get too close.
All the way to Philadelphia, I keep thinking about this woman and how I would love to see more of her. I try to start a
conversation a couple of times, and she is polite and smiles a
lot, but she clearly does not want to talk. So I just glance at
her while she reads her book.
I nestle myself in the right-hand side of the chair, half turned
to the left, so I can easily look past her through the window. My
eyes spend most of the time on her, though, rather than on the
scenery. At one point, when I've been looking at the shape of her
breast through the fabric for over a minute, trying to burn the
sight in my memory, I look up and see her looking straight at me.
Before I can stammer something, though, she smiles again, raises
her arms and stretches. I can't help my eyes dropping down,
looking at the T-shirt that has moved up, and at her now
completely exposed breasts. But when I look up, she is engulfed
in her book again.
Then the train pulls into 30th Street Station. I take her
suitcase down for her and she puts her book away. I have less
than a minute left before she will walk away, and I'll never see
her again. My last chance, I'll have to be completely blunt. But
at least she can't hide in her book anymore.
"Do you have anything planned for tonight?" I ask.
"Why?"
I gather all my courage.
"I would like to take you out," I say.
She looks at me while we exit the train. I pick up her suitcase
and carry it up the stairs.
"There is this place I would like to go," she says, "but it is
frightfully expensive."
My heart is pounding in my throat. Is this real? I can hardly
believe it.
"I'll make you a deal," I say. "If you dress more exciting than
this, I'll take you anywhere in town you want to go."
"I won't go to bed with you," she warns.
Now it is my turn to smile. "I just want to look," I say. "Just
look."
By now we have arrived at the taxi stand in front of the station.
She smiles one last time. "Be right here at seven tonight," she
says and walks away towards the entrance of the parking garage.
* * *
The meetings are endless today. Actually, they are not worse than
usual, but I just can't keep focused. Here is this that
definitely flashed her to me, and tonight she is going to
dress "more exciting." I'm wondering what that is going to look
like. Or maybe she misunderstood me, and she is going to wear one
of these so-called sexy outfits that hide more than they reveal.
She never asked me what I find exciting...
Finally, five o'clock arrives and I hurry to the hotel. I take a
long shower and try to relax. I don't want to be all shaking and
sweaty when I meet her. I put on my clean (and send the
other one to the hotel's overnight laundry). No jacket or tie--I
don't want to be too formal. No underwear either. If she enjoys
seeing the effect she has on me, she's welcome to it.
I get to the taxi stop a few minutes before seven, looking all
around me. She isn't there yet. Doubt starts creeping into my
mind--maybe she wasn't serious. I force myself to calm down,
looking at the taxis arriving, trying to see if she is in one of
them.
Then, just as I'm trying to peer into the latest arrival, she
walks past me. At least, I think it must be her, wearing a long
white dress. I feel my heart sinking, this doesn't look very
exciting. Admittedly, the thin dress emphasizes her beautiful
figure, but it reveals much less than the T-shirt she wore in the
train.
"Hi," I say. She turns around and I almost faint.
When she turns, I see that what she is wearing is more like three
quarters of a dress--the right-most quarter is missing. There is
only a tiny golden chain holding the front and back parts
together around her waist. For the rest the dress looks as if it
is cut off vertically from her ankle all the way to her shoulder.
Half her left leg is bare, and this continues all the way up.
Somehow the nipple of her left is covered, but that is
exactly as far as the dress goes.
She must have said something but I wasn't paying attention.
"Sorry?" I ask
"Is this exciting enough?" she repeats in her soft voice, and I
know she must be smiling, but I can't keep my eyes from her body.
"Never mind, I guess it is," she continues and when I finally
drag my eyes upward, I see her looking at the bulge in my pants.
I almost forgot about that.
She turns around and hails a cab. I have never seen a cab driver
getting out of his car so quickly to open the door. She whispers
something to him and slides in. I follow her, cursing the fact
that I'm now sitting on her dressed side.
She leans back into the seat and seems to relax. I can't think of
anything better to say than asking her how she is doing, and she
just smiles in response. She obviously isn't a big talker, which
is fine with me.
The fifteen minute drive passes in silence, then we stop in front
of an mansion in what must be one of the best neighborhoods
of Philadelphia. The cab driver jumps out again to help her out
of the car, then I give him a 20 dollar bill. I feel like
spending tonight.
I make sure I'm on her left side when we walk up to the front
door. Before I can ring the bell, the door is opened and a
Victorian butler bows for us. "Mr. and Mrs. Jones?" he asks.
Before I can say anything, she nods and we are shown into a large
dining room. There are half a dozen tables, some of them
occupied. We are led to one of the free tables set for two.
Rather than opposite each other, the two places at the table are
laid out side by side. I get a feeling this is not accident.
I hold the right-most chair for her, then sit down myself. "You
look totally amazing," I say.
"I thought you might like this," she answers. "I always wanted to
wear this dress for someone who appreciates it."
We get the menu, but it doesn't have any prices. I guess you
don't want to know anyway. I don't care, not tonight. If my boss
doesn't approve it as business expense, he can take it out of my
pay. I just look at the beautiful woman next to me and realize I
have no idea who she is.
"Here we are, and I don't even know your name," I start.
She smiles again. "Names are not important," she says. "What
would you want to call me?"
I suddenly think I understand. No names, nothing personal. Just
tonight, and then only the memory will be left. I guess that is
the best way, since we probably have nothing in common but the
enjoyment of her body. I decide not to ask any more personal
questions.
"Celeste," I answer. "You are just heavenly!"
She smiles as usual and turns back to study the menu. I pretend
to do the same, meanwhile glancing at her. Except for the small
golden chain, her side is completely bare. I follow the curve of
her leg up, over her hips, to her chest. The fabric of her dress
is hugging the top of her breast, but its side is completely
uncovered. Then Celeste leans forward a little bit and her dress
comes away from her skin. Now, her is hanging there
completely exposed--not only for me, but for everyone else in the
room to see.
I order something from the menu at random, I have hardly looked
at it. While we are waiting for the food, I ask her to tell me
about this place. She tells me it is supposedly the best place to
eat in town, the place where the rich and go. Then she
asks me to excuse her for a moment.
I watch her as she walks across the room. Heads turn when she
passes a table, and I see more than one glancing in the
direction of the restrooms when she is gone.
When she comes back and sits down, the front of her dress which
had been hanging between her legs now slips off her right leg.
She keeps her legs slightly apart, allowing me to see between
them. I think back to what I said this morning. "Just looking."
This is going to be harder than I thought.
We eat, we drink a little bit--only one glass of wine for
Celeste, she clearly wants to keep her wits. I don't drink more
than two glasses myself, I want to remember this evening for the
rest of my life.
When we are finished, I pay with the company credit card. "We
will walk a bit," she says, and I can only nod.
She takes my hand and we walk a block down the street. Then she
stops and looks me in the eyes.
"You still only want to look?" she asks in a low voice.
"That is what I promised, but it is getting more and more
difficult."
She laughs and pulls me towards her. Her hands slide around my
back and she presses her hips to me.
"Wow," is all I can say when I get breath again. Then I kiss her
just as enthusiastically. Meanwhile, my hand reached inside her
dress and is slowly massaging her bottom. She presses herself
more strongly to me.
"Let's go somewhere more public," she whispers. I know it is not
because she is afraid of the dark street, but because she enjoys
making a show of herself.
"The downtown mall doesn't close until midnight," I say. "How do
we get there?"
She takes my hand again and we go into a side street. At the
other side of the block is a major road and Celeste has no
trouble flagging down a cab. Within ten minutes, we are back in
downtown.
The mall is still crowded, and many heads turn when we walk by.
In front of a display window from Saks Fifth Avenue we stop and
draws me close again. I know what she wants, and pulling her
dress aside, start massaging here behind. I feel her trembling
from the thrill of knowing she is completely exposed now. We only
stop when I see a guard walking towards us. I quickly drop her
dress back into place and we stroll into the store.
The next time we stop is in front of a game store. The store is
empty except for a clerk, a guy probably fresh out of high
school. While Celeste is looking at the display, I start kissing
her neck and softly stroking her belly. While she pretends to
close her eyes, I let my hands move up, massaging her breasts. I
see the eyes of the clerk opening wide when her left becomes free. While continuing to caress her left breast, I let
my right hand go down and around inside her dress. When I move my
hand up to her belly again, I pull the dress aside. The clerk's
mouth now falls open at the show in front of his story. I'm sure
he wont forget this evening for a long time.
When I stop, Celeste pulls her dress straight, blows a kiss to
the (who turns as a beet) and we walk to the food court.
I have no idea what she wants there, since we just had an
excellent meal, but by now I'm ready for anything.
"This will probably get us thrown out," she whispers while we
wait in line. "If I don't see you again, I want to thank you. I
had a wonderful evening!"
"So have I," I whisper back, and wonder what she possible can
have in mind.
She orders two large ice-cream and two large sodas. She then
whispers to me, "You carry these. When I sit down, you stumble
and drop it all on me."
The sodas are of the fill-your-own type, and Celeste makes sure
she forgets to put a cap on them. Then she walks over to a table,
and I follow a little bit behind, making a show of balancing the
tray. She sits down and I pretend to bump into one of the tables.
The tray tilts, and I drop it all. One of the sodas splashes over
her chest, the other in her lap, and the two ice-cream
in-between.
Celeste jumps up, catching the little golden chain on the edge of
the table. The left shoulder strap snaps, then the chain breaks.
This leaves nothing to keep the left side of the dress up.
Meanwhile, I grab some napkins, and try to wipe some of the
ice-cream off. I manage to push the wet, clinging dress aside,
and the ice-cream all around her exposed breast.
Two store employees come over to help. The is too
embarrassed to do anything, but the brings more napkins.
Celeste starts using them to dry herself, letting her wet dress
fall all the way back. It is now hanging only on her right
shoulder. Suddenly the dress falls from that last shoulder and
she is now standing completely naked in the middle of the food
court, with everyone staring at her. A look in her eyes shows me
the familiar smile and I know she is enjoying every moment of
this.
I suddenly see two security officers coming up, and turn to warn
Celeste. But she isn't there anymore, I can just see her
"fleeing" into the restrooms. Before I can turn to follow her,
the officers are there and I have to explain how this accident
could happen. They do not seem to be very amused, and are talking
about disturbance of the peace, indecent exposure, and all kinds
of other things. I'm wondering how we can prevent getting
arrested.
While I'm talking to the officers, I see Celeste coming out of
the restroom - dressed in a very modest purple summer dress. She
must have had that dress in there all the time, which
means that she must have planned this from the start. She winks
at me and calmly walks towards the exit. When the female officer
goes into the restrooms to search for the "accused," the restroom
is empty and there is nothing left for them to do.
I tell the people at the food court to throw away the now ruined
evening dress. I only save the little golden chain that had
fallen on the floor as a souvenir. Then I walk back to my hotel.
Tomorrow will be a boring day...
T H E E N D
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If you enjoyed this story, please let me know. Constructive
criticism, serious comments etc. are also greatly appreciated. I
can be contacted by Email at altan1@bigfoot.com. Please use the
word "STORIES" in the subject line of your Email, since messages
not containing that word are automatically filtered as junk mail.
Please check out my Web site at:
http://www.asstr.org/~altan/
for more of my work.
Altan
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