The sensual fire which always seems smoldering in my balls then began to bum brightly. I had sat opposite to her, looking at her; now I moved to her side, saying that I didn't like the wind in my face. Leaning on the arm which divided the seats, our faces were now closer together, and our breaths mingled. She had turned towards me, as I had towards her. But there was no desire in her eyes. — They were a dark pair, bright, but quiet looking. — I noticed that she was thin, had but slight signs of breasts and not much of back-side. — Those two exquisite parts of a woman that I love to see full and round, and feel solid and smooth. She didn't seem my sort at all in form, but her face was lovely. Then I noticed that her foot looked thin and narrow, tho not very small, and was in a natty boot, and she had a little hand. Altogether she seemed a sweet and pleasing variety of the sex, and as I thought of her part by part, my cock swelled slightly.
“You miss the Major — you expected a husband and must remain a widow,” — said I, delicately feeling my way — “I wanted to see him of course.” — “Of course, and it's hard to be disappointed as you meant to stop all night.” — “Yes, and had brought my things, but only to stop two days,” — and she pointed to a small valise, which had been put on the netting above us. — “It's only a change, for he expected to come back to London with me.” — “To where?” said I. — Smiling, she replied, “To our house.” — “Let me go to the house with you, he won't be there.” — “Oh, I dare not, what a proposal.” — But I saw a voluptuous smile in her face. “Let's make this a house” — I was getting warmer. — “What a house,” said she, turning her eyes away, and I saw she understood me. — “A railway carriage isn't much like a house.” — “Or a bed, but I've used one as both before now.” She laughed heartily. — (Neither sleeping cars, nor any convenience for night travelling then existed on any railway in England.)
She turned the conversation to theatres, but soon I got it to the amatory tone again — asked what she'd do sleeping alone, and got the usual evasive replies which a woman knows how to give when she doesn't want you to see that she understands you. But all my questions and suggestions were to the bed and male society, for I know the subject heats a cunt that has been once fucked. — I played with her hand and buttoned her glove. — She let me do all that. — Then risking it, as lewed intentions made me bolder, “You must give me a kiss for my postage stamp.” — “No thank you, not for a penny.” — “You'd have given me fifty sooner than have lost the post.” — “That I would,” and she laughed. — “Then I'll have them now,” and putting my hand round her, I pulled her to me and kissed her half a dozen times; there was but little difficulty in doing it. — “Now you kiss one of the fifty.” — “No thank you.” — Then I asked her to dine with me. As she wasn't expected home, there would be no dinner there. — No, but she should get some tea and make it do.
I got as close to her as the arm between the seats (a fixture) allowed. — My leg met hers, and she didn't move it away. Carelessly I laid my hand on her knee, and, pinching up a bit of the silk dress, admired it. — A minute after. — “You garter below knee,” I said, determined to see how far I could go, for three quarters of an hour would take us to London, and there was no time to lose. — “That I don't, I garter above knee, how rude you are.” — “My God! I feel rude, and can scarcely sit still,” — and, again taking the seat opposite to her, praised her foot and boot, and asked who her bootmaker was. — “I shan't tell you.” — “Well, let me look at your foot, it's a slim and pretty one.” — Up she put it on the seat by the side of me. — I felt it, pinched the ankle, and as she didn't flinch, rapidly ran my hand up to her knee, felt the garter, and just the flesh beyond, before she put her foot down.
She was angry, I was taking a mean advantage — I apologized, I could not help it. — “Your beauty has put me in such a state of desire that I'm in actual pain for want of you — how smooth your flesh is — and you do, I find, garter above knee” — and much more. To all she made no reply, but kept first looking out of the window, then at me, and so on.
Again I asked her to dine with me — would she give me her address. — “I won't, I dare not. — It would do you no good, and it might do me harm.”
There was something in her manner which for the moment kept me at a distance from her. — But soon I went on quietly again, talking of the officers in camp who had their mistresses there, and told of one who made such a noise when with his lady, — “Embracing her in bed, you know,” — (I perceived that she knew well what I meant) that several heard him outside the hut, and chaffed him about it at mess. — Something of that sort had been told me, and I exaggerated it, and at intervals I felt my ballocks outside my trowsers, looking her in the face, till she turned her head to the window and smiled at my remarks. I knew that she guessed the condition of my pego, that some of her smile was at that, and felt sure that lust was stirred in her. Now every second she looked at me, and then out of the window, then at me again, and I saw in her eyes voluptuous wants.
Then I seated myself again by her side. I soon clutched her to me and kissed her and said I was madly in love with her. — “It's your fault — my God, what a state you've put me in! — Show me your lovely foot again.” — Coquettishly she put one foot on the opposite seat, I stooped, and had my hands on her thighs in a second. She crossed them catching my hand between them, but it was embedded in the hair. — I had not only broken ice but gone clean thro it, and went on trying to force my hand further. “My darling, let me feel your cunt, only for a minute, let me feel it, just feel it, and I'll take away my hand.”
“You shan't, I'll get out at the next station — Oho — ho — you — shan't” — she cried as I threw myself on my knees, lifted her petticoats, and got my face on her thighs. Tho she resisted, my lust now unbridled made me strong. — Violently I got her thighs apart, my head between them, my nose on her motte, my lips near her clitoris. I could not get my mouth lower, but smelt the stimulating smell of a nice cunt that was yearning for a fuck — I am sure that the cuntal aroma in the sweetest women, intensifies, gets ranker even, when want of the male is on her. I cried, “I can smell your cunt, it's delicious, open your thighs, let me kiss it, do, love.” I tried to pull her forward, but did not succeed, but I kept my head on her thighs and motte for some minutes, feeling round her buttocks, talking lewedness under her petticoats, till she ceased striving against me.
My head still where it was, I pulled out my prick, and rubbed it hard against her calf. “What am I rubbing against your leg? — Oh, let me have you.” — “Get up, get up now — don't be foolish — Oh! if the guard should come. — I'll call out for the guard.”
Up I got recklessly lewed, and sat down; my prick standing up stiff in front of her. Her eyes were humid and she stared hard at me. — “Oh, take care, here we are at the station.” The train just then slackened pace, and seemed as if going to stop. “Oh! how you frightened me, suppose it had stopped. — What should I have done? — how foolish you are.” — “I'll put it bye if you'll feel it, — feel it,” said I. — Taking her gloved hand, I put it round it. How smooth the kid felt to my sensitive rammer.
Soon her glove was off and she was feeling it with her naked hand; whilst my fingers were rubbing between the lips of her cunt, and how moist it was — I pulled her to me and kissed her. “Let me have you, let us fuck, love.” — “I won't, how can you talk so, we can't here. — Now leave me alone. — Oho — don't — do leave off. — We shall be seen.” — We whisked past a station. “Oh, if my husband knew, I should be ruined for life. — Oh — I will dine with you then, and you shall after dinner. — I can't take you home, I daren't tell you where I live. — Oh! — I will after dinner — oh — now,” — and her backside and thighs moved with that uneasy yet voluptuous movement, that restless, wriggling of belly, buttocks, and cunt that a woman can't help giving when a man is frigging her and the luscious sensation of complete lewedness, and the want of fucking, are coursing through her body.