As Becky looked out the window of the train car, my hand moved discretely over to her thigh. I rested it ever so lightly on her leg just above the knee.
Becky was so interested in what was passing by she didn't notice at first. That gave me the courage to proceed and I let it rest a little more relaxed on her leg.
She still didn't react positively or negatively, which I was thankful for. But the next step wouldn't be so easy. Becky's steampunk outfit consisted of an ankle-length tan cotton dress with a dark brown lace overlay.
The dress was flowing with a modest V collar (remember, this was the Victorian era), and long sleeves with flared wristlets. On top of the dress, she wore a brown leather waist-cincher.
As my hand moved up her leg, I gathered the dress an inch at a time. I'm certain that Becky felt what I was doing now but she pretended not to, instead she just kept looking out the window. I noticed the subtle change in her breathing, though.
Besides, you would have to be completely out of it not to feel a dress like this riding up your leg. But if she wanted to pretend not to notice, it was fine with me. As long as there wasn't a protest against it, it was just as if she was giving me permission in my book.
Becky let me continue, most likely to see how far I would take this game considering we were in public.
What she hadn't learned about me though, is that being public doesn't really bother me–there are ways to play even in public and this was far from the busiest place I'd ever done this in.
With the only other people in this car both wearing earbuds and in their own little worlds, we may as well have been in my bedroom at home.
My hand continued moving up her leg. When her dress had gathered above her knee she turned to look at me. "Daniel, what are you doing," she whispered, placing her hand on mine to stop me.
"Relax Becky, hon. That couple up there couldn't hear you if you screamed—he's fixed on some sports movie and she is into her music. They both have earbuds in their ears so unless this train jumps the tracks and flips on its side, they won't be bothered."
"What if the conductor comes through or someone else passes by?"
"We are in the last occupied car on the train. Anyone coming through would have to come from the far end and we'd see them in plenty of time to cover up. But if you are worried about it..."
I took off my "duster" coat, a long coat that hung down to just above what would normally be cowboy boots—the kind you see in some Western movies, and I put it over her like a blanket.
"There. Now I can play and you don't have to worry about being seen... only heard. So let's see how long you can STAY quiet!"
The look on Becky's face when I said that was priceless! She had no idea who she was dealing with and she was wondering just what I had in store for her.
With my coat covering her, I pushed her dress higher up around her waist. This left her thighs bare and I took advantage of the pale, sensitive flesh.
Becky was no sun worshipper and she was about as pale as milk, but it worked for her. With her soft ruby lips and minimal makeup, her pale skin looked amazing, And framed in by her dark brown hair she looked spectacular.
My fingers traced a weaving path up her thighs and as they got higher, her breathing became shallower and more rapid.
But I didn't go right for the bullseye just yet. As I got close, I sort of skipped over that part and moved to her other leg. I knew she expected me to home in on her center, as most men would have.
I wasn't most men, though. And I knew she wasn't ready for that quite yet (although I'm pretty sure she had a different standard here for "ready").
I went back and forth like this, coming aggravatingly close to where she wanted me to be, but at the last moment, diverting my touch and going around the most intimate area. At first, she let out quiet little gasps as I neared, then suddenly passed her.
When I heard a more audible groan from her—a groan of disappointment and frustration—I knew it was time to knock on her door.
Once I was under her Victorian-style dress, I found out she was more pragmatic about what she wore under it.
I don't think she was quite expecting this turn of events at the party because, rather than wearing the era-specific undies, she went with the comfort and familiarity of regular modern-day panties.
It made sense–from what I understood about the knickers of the time, they weren't the most comfortable things.
I looked once again into Becky's eyes and saw just what I wanted to see there. She looked back at me, her eyes darting back and forth, and I saw something in them that told me of her need. She had been alone too long and she was wordlessly asking me to go on.
She may have been afraid to ask or been brought up in a strict household or maybe it was her anxiety disorder that made her hesitant to unable to verbally tell me—we HAD just met only a couple hours ago.
But the pleading look in her eyes and the failure to make any attempt to stop me told me that she wanted me to keep going.
I moved to the next level by rubbing my fingertips across the front of her lacy panties. I could feel the heat coming through them and I knew there was a fire in the furnace.
Becky acknowledged my assumption by spreading her legs as my hand moved to her crotch.
She laid her head back on the high back of our bench seat and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the train and the feelings her own body was sending her.
I kept rubbing the front of her panties and soon I felt her body responding. Subconsciously, she began grinding her hips up at my hand. Barely noticeable at first, her gyrations became more pronounced the more I rubbed her heated mound.
She was breathing heavier now and soft mewling moans were coming from her. She was definitely enjoying what I was doing. I looked down and her hands, which until now had been casually resting on the seat beside her were now splayed out and I could see a tension in them.
She wasn't curling them into the seat yet or balling them into a fist, but it was obvious she was fighting her building distress. Looking up at her face I could see the same inner struggle.
She was frowning and biting her bottom lip and she tried to be still and not let on that she was raging inside.
I had to admire her stoicism and self-discipline, but I also took it as a challenge—I wanted to show her that, struggle as she might, I would not be denied.
Then I began feeling a dampness in her panties and I knew her body was defying her. Mentally she may be being strong, but her body was surrendering to my efforts. I smiled to myself at this discovery and it encouraged me to up my game once again.
Her demeanor to this point had been one of a shy, reserved, and even submissive girl. And from what she had told me of her family life and her past it seemed to agree with my theory. And so I used this compliancy to my advantage.
I spoke to her in a low deep voice. "I'm going to go under, Becky. Your panties are wet and I want to see how wet you are!" I didn't tell her I wanted to go into her panties, I said I was going to.
Becky whimpered her response, agreeing to my dominant will. "Please, Daniel..."
My hand slipped under the waistband of her panties and quickly found the source of the heat I had been feeling. Her pussy was indeed wet and hot as a volcano! I felt the damp fur surrounding her slit and the fat swollen lips that bordered her entrance.
Becky gasped as I went inside her panties and she sat upright a little bit, but then relaxed as I began teasing her pussy... this time without the interference of her panties, getting in the way.
My fingers traced the outline of her pussy, fingering and gently tugging on her lips and running just along the inside of them.
I didn't plunge into her depths and I purposely neglected her clit too, even though I knew that was what she wanted me to do. Her hands moved up to her hips, holding onto her dress and balling the material up in her hands.
"Good girl. Keep those hands away and let me play."
Becky did respond to dominance after all—my suspicions were right. With this crucial piece of information, I now had a game plan to work from.
"So, you like when a guy takes control, do you? You like being dominated and told what to do?"
She moaned again. "Ohhh..."
"YES! Oh yes, Daniel, I love it! Please... please dominate me!"
"Yeah, I had a feeling that you were the type that needed a firm hand to watch over and take care of you."
"Mmm... being taken care of sounds nice. It's been a long time since anyone took care of me."
"How long, Becky. When was the last time someone took care of you?
"I guess it would have to be my father, actually. I had a boyfriend but I can't honestly say he took care of me. It was more the other way around—I took care of him.
He was a real mama's boy and was so used to having his mother do everything for him he didn't know how to live on his own.
He couldn't cook, do the laundry, clean house, or anything. His mother did all that for him and then I came along to do it for him."
"Yeah, I know the type. But you don't have to worry about me. I've been living on my own since I was eighteen years old. Right after high school I moved into my own place and haven't lived at home since. I would visit all the time but I lived on my own."
"That's good. I was afraid when you found out I was submissive you would want me just to take care of you and do your cooking and cleaning and housework."
"Don't get me wrong, Becky, it would be nice to have someone who would cook and keep house for me. But I'm not just looking for a maid and housekeeper. And I don't need 'taken care of'—I am perfectly able to do for myself. I am looking for someone who wants to take care of me.
"And someone I can take care of as well. I want someone who is submissive but not a doormat. I expect to put my part into the relationship too. A submissive should want to please her man but her man needs to be what she needs as well.
"It doesn't work when only one side is doing all the giving and the other does nothing but take. It has to be a partnership. After all, a Dominant without a submissive is just a man, and a submissive isn't really complete unless she serves a Dominant. It takes darkness to see the light."
Becky listened to what I had to say and when I finished with my little speech, she didn't say anything. She just stood up and moved to the aisle. I thought at first she was just going to the restroom, but when she got into the aisle she reached down with one hand.
"Come with me, Daniel, please?"
I got up and she took me to the back of the train car. There was a large handicapped restroom at the back of the car and she pulled me into it locking the door. Then she took me over to the toilet and put the lid down on it.
"Sit down, please."
I sat down on the seat and Becky knelt down in front of me.
"Daniel, I have listened to what you have told me about what you want... and what you think a proper relationship is.
"And I hope you don't think I am being too forward or pushy–I know we have only known each other for a very short time and I know that we have a lot to learn about each other, but I do like you. I have a good feeling about us, Daniel.
"You see, I have a sort of a knack—call it a sixth-sense, or a talent, or whatever—for being able to tell if a person is good or not.
"Granted, I didn't listen to my inner voice with my boyfriend and I learned the hard way to pay attention to it. But now I do and my inner voice is telling me you would be good for me.
"I don't know if it will work out with us, Daniel... if this is to be our 'happily ever after' or not. No one really knows that until it is. But I am willing to give us a shot. What I am asking here is to be your submissive.
"You are right, I do need a firm hand to watch over and take care of me. I do need someone to dominate me. Not just in the bedroom but everywhere all the time.
"I need someone to help guide me and keep me from making stupid mistakes. I need someone who will help calm all the chaos in my head.
"Daniel, I have all these people wanting something from me, pulling me in a hundred different directions.
"My family wanting me to find someone, my girlfriends setting me up with who they think is my perfect match, the guys they pick wanting more than I am ready to give them... sometimes I just want to run off where no one knows me and get away from everyone.
"I like what you said about relationships being a partnership. I believe that too. And I really like the idea of serving. I would like to be your submissive, if you'll have me. I want to serve you—in whatever way you wish—and be the submissive you want me to be.
"Please, Daniel, help me, make me into what you want in a submissive. Train me and teach me how to serve you."
I smiled at her. "Becky, I do like you as well. I have enjoyed this evening more than I thought I would by meeting you and spending this short time with you.
"And I want to see you again—under more normal circumstances—and see if we really have something here or if this was just two people lost in a crowd neither of us belonged in.
"So I'll tell you what. Let's go out again, on a real date where we have time to really talk, and let's see if we still work as well together. If we do, then I will be happy to have you as my submissive.
"And if not, then we saved ourselves from making a big mistake. You have been hurt before—it's possible that's the reason for your social issues now. And I don't want to hurt you any further."
"You see, Daniel, this is what I am talking about. You want us to go out once on a real date because you want to keep me from possibly making a mistake and getting hurt. You are already taking care of me.
"All right, Daniel, I will go out with you. I would love to go out on a real date with you. Just pick a date and time and I will be there."
I started to get up but Becky stopped me. "Just a minute, Daniel."
I sat back down. "What is it, Becky? Is there something else you want to talk about?"
"Well not really talk, but I was kind of hoping..." she started to rub my thighs, working her way up my legs.
"What, Becky, what do you want?" I knew what she wanted of course, but I wanted her to tell me.
"Um... I was thinking, you know while we're here..."
"No, tell me. Tell me what you want. If you are going to be my submissive, you're going to have to learn to use your words."
"Use my words?"
"Yes, Becky. You can't be afraid to tell me what you want or need. And I don't want you talking around it. It's not a penis, or dick, or thingy, it's a cock.
"You don't have a vagina or a 'down there', you have a pussy, or a cunt. And you'd better get used to being called a slut and a whore too because that's what I want you to be when we are alone together.
"And when we have sex, we fuck. Occasionally, I might make love to you, but most of the time we are fucking. Understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
"Good. Now, what did you want?"
"Daniel, please... can I suck your cock?"
I smiled and she opened my jeans and fished my cock out of my boxers, pumping it in her hand before starting to work my jeans and underwear down.
When she had my pants unfastened, I stood up and she pulled my pants and boxers down, taking my boots off and then my pants and shorts.
"Sit," she said, once I had stepped out of my pants. She scooted forward between my legs and took my semi-hard cock in her hands. Playing with her and the promise of more fun now had awakened my cock and although it wasn't yet at full power, it soon would be.
Becky held my cock in her hand, examining it, getting acquainted with her new friend. She licked her lips in anticipation as she gently tugged and stroked it, coaxing it to grow harder and larger.
"Mmmm... you have a nice fat, juicy, cock, Daniel. It's going to feel sooo good inside me!"
After a few moments with my cock she looked up at me. "Any time you're ready," I told her.
She smiled and bent to her work, wrapping her lips around my eager member. Now it was my turn to moan as my cock was engulfed in her warm, wet mouth. She gently pumped the base in one hand, following her mouth as her head bobbed up and down in a delicious, medium pace.
Her other hand cupped my balls, rolling them around, cradling them, and coaxing them to release their prize. I lazily ran my fingers through her thick, dark brown hair as I followed her movements and relished the feel of her luxurious mouth sliding up and down my neglected cock.
Her cock-sucking skills were obvious almost immediately, and I knew that we wouldn't be loitering in this train restroom for very long. Neither of us had enjoyed an active sex life lately, and we were both starved for the attention the other could provide.
It felt like Becky was putting extra effort into giving me pleasure, though, which I certainly took note of.
It wasn't very long before I could feel my orgasm drawing near and my cock began to swell in anticipation.
"Becky, I'm going to cum here in a minute," I said, warning her of my impending eruption.
She pulled off me for a moment. "I want you to cum in my mouth," she said. "Please, Daniel, I want to taste you."
Then Becky wolfed me down again and kept going, providing me with the ultimate pleasure right up to the moment that I exploded into her mouth with a grunt. She swallowed my load and continued to milk every drop of cum out of me until I was completely spent.
With her soft lips wrapped tightly around my cock and suction that I would be willing to bet could lift a bowling ball, she sucked every precious drop of my cum from me and squeegeed my cock spotlessly clean.
I leaned back against the wall of the bathroom once she let my cock fall from her mouth. She nuzzled my cock, kissing it and inhaling the scent of my crotch before helping me get my jeans and underwear back on and up to where I could reach them and pull them up as I stood.
I got my softening cock tucked away and closed up my jeans, then I offered her my hand and pulled her to her feet.
"I hope this won't be my last opportunity to do that," she said as I slipped my hand around her waist. I kissed her deeply, not even minding my taste on her tongue.
"Don't worry hon, I definitely think this is just the beginning," I replied with a smile.
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