You know, it’s funny. I should have been used to this. For many years I’d dressed as Alice. I’d met up at hotels, I’d wandered through shopping centres. I was a seasoned, confident T*girl. And yet, as I boarded the 06:30 train to London, I felt nervous. Crazy. All that was different from my normal daily routine is that today I had decided to wear a pair of tights under my suit trousers and to leave off the socks. I’d tried to do this many times but always bottled out and slipped on a pair of socks in the carpark before the journey started. Today I was going to combat this mad irrationality.
The station I get on is almost the first stop for the train so I had my pick of seats. I chose a pair near the door and sat down and crossed my legs. This was part of the ‘therapy’. There was no point in doing it if I was going to hide my stocking clad ankles under the seat. My suit trousers rode up about 6 inches and the 15 dernier black tights were clearly visible. I settled down to read my book. As the journey progressed, more people got on. Although there was, or maybe I imagined, a few glances, the journey was uneventful. I got off in London pleased with myself that I’d conquered this seemingly tiny challenge.
As I walked down the platform, the tights felt good against my freshly shaved legs and I reached the ticket barrier with my thoughts miles away. As I put my ticket through, I felt a bump from behind. As I turned round I chap who I vaguely recognise as a regular on my train winked and said ‘see you tomorrow’. Oh. I thought. What do I do now. As I walked to work I decided that it was probably just my over active imagination and decided to forget it.
The next day, I decided to follow the same routine. I guess in the back of my mind it made it more excited that perhaps someone had noticed my penchant for lingerie. I boarded the train, settled down in same seat, legs crossed as before. At the next station the chap from the ticket barrier incident got on. I decided to watch to see where he sat to decide whether he could have spotted anything. He walked down the train and caught my eye. He smiled and came and asked if he could sit next me. Shit. I thought. As I uncrossed my legs and moved over I felt his eyes fixed to my ankles. Now there was no doubt. He sat down and I felt the warmth of his leg against mine. He placed his coat on his lap and started reading his paper. After a few minutes he turned to me a quietly said “tights or stockings”. My heart raced. Did I ignore him or not. I may be many things, but rude I am not. This is my doing, I thought. “Tights. I replied”. The chap smiled and carried on reading. About ten minutes passed, no more was said, and my ‘admirer’ put his paper down and closed his eyes. A wave of relief swept over me as I thought about the close shave.
The relief was short lived. I felt his fingers gently stroking my outer thigh. Fuck. Here I was on a crowded commuter train wearing tights under my suit and a stranger is starting to touch me up. I had nowhere to go, and I guess if I was honest I didn’t want to go. I tried to ignore it, but the touching got more insistent. I moved my coat over my lap to try to hide the growing bulge between my legs. All this did was to provide cover for him. I felt him fumble for my flies and he slowly undid them. My now my erection was full and he slipped his hand through on to my hard, tights covered, penis. His rubbing was gentle but unrelenting. Each time he could feel me beginning to pulse he eased off. This continued until we got within a couple of minutes of our destination. His caressing got more urgent. I could feel the familiar tingling as I starting to pump sperm inside my tights. My admirer removed his hand and got up to leave. As he did so he said, simply, “Tomorrow wear stockings”
I awoke a little earlier than usual, partly because I couldn’t sleep and partly because I wanted to spend a little longer in the shower this morning. Yesterday had been interesting. What had started out as something to conquer an irrational mind block had started to turn into an all consuming obsession
I didn’t even know if my mystery admirer was going to be on the train today. I toyed with the idea of not complying with his demand that I wear stockings under suit trousers instead of tights, but if I did that I’d have to sit on another part of the train, and he might still find me. Or take another, later train, but then I’d be late. Anyway to be honest, I wanted him to be there. Just wanted him.
I stepped out of the shower smooth all over, sprayed myself with White Musk and slipped through to my home office. I unlocked my ‘personal’ cupboard and retrieved a brand new pack of stockings, some silk French knickers and suspender belt. As usual, the feeling of slipping into brand new stockings over freshly shaved legs was fantastic. I clipped the suspender belt in place and stepped into the knickers. Time was getting on. I finished dressing in my boring male business attire and headed for the station.
The train pulled in, and I sat in my normal seat, in my normal carriage. Usually I would read, watch a DVD, or just work. But today, I just couldn’t concentrate. As the train pulled into Maidstone East, my admirers stop, my heart was beating fast. I watched the door as a few people got on. But no admirer. The doors closed and the train pulled off. Although I was disappointed, I thought oh well and started reading my book.
I gave up too soon. He arrived at my seat and sat down without even acknowledging me. A few minutes passed, and then he gave me a carrier bag and quietly told me to go to the toilet and follow the instructions. I did as I was told. When I got into the small cubicle I opened the bag to see a note, a small hilted anal vibrator and a small tube of KY. The note told me to insert the vibrator and return to my seat. I did as I was told and went and sat down.
My name’s Steve, he said. His coat was on his lap and as I’d sat down he positioned it over towards me as yesterday. I thought I knew what was coming next. But instead he produced what a small key-ring sized remote control. He pressed it and I jumped. The vibrator started going. Almost as a reflex action my cock twitched. Steve looked at me and smiled. His hand rubbed against the outside of my thigh and he paused over the suspender belt clips. Once again the routine started and Steve’s hand found it’s way into my flies. This time though the loose French knickers and lack of tights allowed direct access to my cock.
As the warmth of his hand surrounded my cock I felt dizzy. I moaned and then realized where I was. Luckily ‘commuter stupor’ had set in and the other passengers where in their own world. He switched on and off the vibrator and expertly kept me on the edge of orgasm for the journey. As we pulled into Victoria I expected him to bring me to crescendo as before, but he simply withdrew his hand and told me to follow him.
It was only 07 and I knew I had some time. I just needed to orgasm. As we cleared the ticket barrier, Steve stopped and told me he’d rented a room at a nearby hotel. I went with him.
We got to Steves room and he told me to go to the bathroom. I complied. When I looked in I couldn’t believe how premeditated and confident Steve had been. Not only had he rented the room the previous night, he’d also bought a wig, bra and silk negligee along with a full makeup kit. I knew what was expected. I removed my business suit and put on the bra and negligee. I carefully applied the make-up and put on the wig. I opened the door and came out. Steve rose off the bed to meet me. “You look gorgeous” he said. Held me in his arms and kissed me. As his tongue found my, his hand fondled my knicker clad derrier. I embraced him passionately and his hand moved round to find my erection. I wanted him. I needed him. We moved to the bed
|
