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Jennifer gets into Max's pants for his first time.

'So, do you often look up skirts?'

'And down tops' I reminded her.

'Yes, and down tops, do you often...look?'

'Not especially', I said. But sometimes I feel like I'd be letting the male species down if I didn't.'

'So, let me get this straight' she said. 'You were trying to see my knickers and nipples not just for you, but for all manhood?'

'In a way, yes.' I replied, to which she threw her head back and laughed a very pleasant, very musical laugh.

'Men' she said. Can't live with 'em'.

It was my turn to laugh - a saying adopted by thousands of males had just been used to turn the tide, and it was delivered to perfection.

'So' I said. 'Do you often show strangers your knickers?'

'Only the cute ones.' She said, and we settled back into a pause so pregnant it very nearly gave birth. She seemed to be deep in thought looking out at suburban London slipping by.

'Were you just taking pity on a dreadful pervert?' I asked, giving voice to the nagging fear that had been stopping me from really playing the game for all it was worth.

'No' she replied. If anything, I'm the dreadful perv. I think you're gorgeous, and I wanted to let you know in my own special way.'

She didn't nearly blush, she glowed to the point where she had to revert to the view from the window which suddenly turned black as we disappeared into a tunnel. I sat there wondering how far this could go, thinking that I could stop now and have a lifelong fantasy, or I could do my best to have one realised. The train had stopped and as can sometimes happen on trains in England - the lights went out.

Plunged into total darkness, some passengers started chatting nervously, hoping to get things moving. Just then, my thoughts were interrupted by a movement - something I sensed rather than felt. I reached out slowly, tentatively, and wasn't at all surprised to feel the warmth that radiates from human skin.

When my hand touched down, it was the inside of her right leg, she was facing me, legs slightly apart. I felt the slightest tremor run through her, but knowing that the lights could come on at any moment, I began my ascent. It seemed to take forever, and I realized that I was holding my breath.

Finally I felt the landscape change. Her breathing was louder, and I swear I could feel the blood racing just beneath her skin. And there was a brand new kind of heat - and as I moved my hand slowly to the source, I felt the first jolt of pure lust, because I'd come into contact with the soft, downy hair. Not being able to see, my imagination went into overdrive to conjour an image that would do justice to the sensation of the drops of moisture clinging to her.

Rotating my hand so my palm was facing up, I used my index finger to find her opening, and then - as softly as I could manage - I traced the line of her lips - parted, wet, and welcoming. She began coming the moment I touched her cunt, and by the time I'd reached her clit, she'd beaten me to it, and was pushing herself through barrier after barrier of pleasure.

She pushed her fingers down and into herself, and then her hand disappeared. Hungry, sucking noises told me it had found its intended destination. And then her tongue was in my mouth, and her hands pulled at her top, forcing her boobs out of her bra - and into my mouth. Lost in her own world, she muttered - almost to herself. 'I...want..to...come...again.

And it was as she was coming again - all over her fingers and my hand, that I noticed that we weren't alone in our play. Someone else was exploiting our darkness, taking their opportunity to be decadent, to seize a moment the likes of which may never come again. And I couldn't tell if I liked it, or not.

This wasn't about anyone else, it was about her and me - our attraction, our flirtation, and our pleasure.

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