[Leopard]

Evie

That single, tiny contact was enough to elicit a moan from deep within Evie. her hand was shaking; she wanted more, wanted to touch so badly, but was slightly alarmed at how turned on she was, and wondered if she could keep quiet enough to avoid being heard from the next carriage, let alone from the adjoining compartment to hers.

'Fuck it,' Evie muttered under her breath, then bit down on her lower lip as she pressed her fingertip to the hood of her clit.

The shock that ran through her body was astounding; Evie bit down hard on her lip as a brief, intense wave of pleasure coursed up through her belly, down her legs, down her arms - a flash of heat that stroked every nerve to wired awareness.

Hoping that she hadn't bitten right through her lip and drawn blood, but at the same time no longer really caring, Evie moved her finger in a slow circle over her clit; she wanted more of those pleasure waves.

Evie had never dreamed that masturbating in a risky manner like this could be so rewarding, so intense. She was sure that she'd never been this turned on in her life - perhaps during some of the best sex with past girlfriends, but certainly never alone - and it wasn't long before she was dipping her fingers down into her wet, waiting pussy. The tight little lovehole welcomed her fingers in before clenching tight around them, as if her pussy had a will of its own and could decide to keep her fingers inside her regardless of any conscious decisions that she might make.

Letting out a low, shuddering moan, Evie began to finger fuck herself slowly, driving two fingers deep inside herself with each thrust.

Come and find me. She threw the thought out wildly to anyone that might catch it. Come and see me, see what a fucking whore I am.

And what then? The thought returned once again, reminding Evie that she hadn't answered it the first time.

And then, she thought back to herself in reply, her body quivering with each thrust of her fingers, her back arching and then sliding back down onto the seat again and again. And then they can stare, demand my ticket, throw me out, slap me down and fuck me for all I care.

She began to imagine that it was the ticket conductor who walked in on her, a middle aged man arriving innocently to check tickets, only to find a half-naked teen girl rolling about on the train seat with wet fingers sloshing in and out of her cunt, a girl so horny that she couldn't even keep the act quiet.

Still biting down on her lip, Evie moaned from deep in her throat, imagining a frown crossing the man's face, his brow furrowing as his shocked look turned to anger. She imagined him slowly putting away his ticket clipper thing before unfastening his belt. She imagined him telling her that since he was going to have to remove his pants to fuck the little slut he'd discovered messing up his train, he might as well get some use out of his belt first.

Evie had never been hit with a belt before - her imagination might run wild at times, but in reality her sexual adventures had been relatively tame. A couple of light spankings were all she'd ever received. But that did nothing to stop her dreaming, and dream she did, rolling over onto her belly as she imagined he would order her to do, presenting her round little butt for the angry black strap of leather held in the man's hands.

She writhed against the rough weave of the train's seat as she imagined the belt striking down on her ass, imagined a fiery sting that may or may not have been anywhere close to reality. It didn’t matter whether she was right or not; all she cared about was the fantasy, the thought of being punished by her imaginary ticket conductor, of being made to squeal under his stern gaze. Her fingers continued to work in and out of her soaked pussy, her muscles contracting around her fingers as she wiggled about on the seat, pushing her ass back and up to receive each imagined lash of the belt.

The thoughts of her fantasy filled Evie with warmth, stroked her needs to a flaming heat that infused every muscle, every pore of skin on her body. She moaned down into the base of the seat, then taken with the humiliation and filthiness of the idea, imagined that her imaginary ticket conductor had ordered her to make out with the seat itself.

Evie eagerly complied with the thought, pressing her lips to the seat, opening them and then giving the seat a slow lick. The knitted material was rough and dry on her tongue, and she could only imagine how many people's behinds had sat here, what sort of filth had seeped into the seat during the thousands and thousands of miles the train had travelled.

She didn't care. Her thoughts filled with the angry crack of a belt reddening her ass, of an imagined ache and a real fire burning through her, Evie worked her fingers faster and faster inside herself. She hooked them to rub that special spot deep within that made her feel so amazing, that made her legs tremble uncontrollably as her mind shut down control of any unnecessary parts of her body. Her legs shaking, her over tensed arms numb, it left her only access to her fingers rubbing hard and fast inside herself, to lips that sucked desperately at an old train seat between rushed panting breaths that could never work enough oxygen through her body to truly fuel the fire of her need.