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The Passenger (voyeur, Masturbation, Exhibition)

THE PASSENGER
By JoeZaq

I walk down the corridor to 6E and open the door. The berth consists of two padded bench seats facing each other, storage racks up top, and a nice sized window for viewing the lush Countryside. There is enough room for four people to sit comfortably. I wondered how many other passengers are assigned to the same berth.

This is my first trip to Europe, and I am as giddy as a schoolboy.

After stowing my bags I settle down and make myself comfortable. The first leg of the early morning trip is wonderful. I watch mile after mile of rolling hills pass by my window. It is fun to watch people starting their day along the way. It all looks so peaceful. With difficulty, I finally pull my eyes away from the window to finish reading the gripping novel I started on the flight. I remain blissfully buried in my book until we reach the first stop.

Just as the train starts to pull out of the station SHE enters the berth. I look up from my book and say "hello" to a very attractive dark haired lady wearing sunglasses. She glances my way, but says
nothing.

It is not possible to read anything in her response. Is she friendly, aloof, shy,.... who knows? Maybe she does not speak English. However, it seems like her glance lingers unusually long, almost like she is making an evaluation of me.

As she turns to place her bag up on the rack, I get a glimpse of her incredibly lovely legs. Her thin ankles are a contrast to her full calves. She must be athletic. Even the backs of her knees have muscular dimples. Maybe she is a swimmer. As she reaches up, I admire her toned thighs as her skirt rises eight inches above her knees. She is wearing dark stockings, which are almost the same color as her gray skirt. Her behind is taut and her waist is wasp tiny.

She is an absolute vision of youth and beauty!

She turns to sit and I immediately go back to my book. Surely she did not see me looking at her legs, but I am embarrassed anyway. It is not proper for me to be looking at her like that. After all, I must be quite older than she.

I wonder how much older? My look at her face was all too brief. Is she a young looking 27-year-old woman, or perhaps a mature looking 17-year-old girl? What an intriguing question. I find that I am completely focused on this issue as I pretend to read. My visual cortex is in high gear but it produces no conclusive evidence either way.

Her clothing is a bit more helpful. Her outfit looks like a blend between a very fashionable business ensemble and elegant cocktail attire. Her matador style jacket covers a light blue silk blouse. Her mid-thigh length pleated skirt is made of wool. The dark stockings have a thin seam running up from her heels, which are shod in stylish spectator shoes.
I conclude that her breeding is high, she has expensive tastes in clothes, and she is definitely not interested in having company on this trip.

My novel is absolutely riveting. After three more chapters I stop to rest my eyes. I put the book in my lap and peek at my fellow passenger. She is thumbing through a fashion magazine, which she is holding high enough that I cannot see her face. This is an opportunity to let my eyes wander.

For the first time I get a glimpse of her upper torso as she turns the pages. Her jacket is semi form fitting, and is shapely enough to give me an image of youthful firm breasts. I look at her knee, which is crossed over the other, and follow it down, past her calves to her toes, which are dangling a shoe in mid air.

The rocking of her foot is as hypnotic as a musician's metronome. With each swing of the shoe her calf muscles flex delightfully. Through the silk stockings I see that her tanned skin is unblemished. The lovely sight enchants me. My pulse involuntarily quickens.

My trance is suddenly broken as she puts the magazine on the bench and reaches in her bag for another one. My eyes dart back to my book as I am slapped back to reality. Did she catch me looking? For the second time, I feel ashamed of myself. I am not a voyeur. What is wrong with me?

She stretches and yawns, removes her jacket and folds it on the seat next to her. Even with my head down, I can still see her pert breasts. The outline of her low cut bra is visible through her blouse. When she breathes the rise of her breasts float above the lacy cups of her bra, just a little, but enough for my eyes to drink in.

My eyes are directed toward my book, but my attention secretly remains on her.

For a couple of minutes she is still, looking out the window. Then she crosses her legs and opens the new magazine. Her magazine is again shielding her face, but this time it is folded in half. I glance up for only a split second. Did I really see what I think? I look again.

Yes! The magazine has pictures of beautiful women, some in swim wear, some in casual clothing, and some have partially exposed breasts as they dance through the scenery. As she turns the pages the models become more beautiful... and even more revealing. "So this is Europe," I think to myself.

Suddenly, I realize I am becoming sexually aroused. My embarrassment is strong, but my illicit interest is stronger. As the pages turn, I allow my visual thievery to continue.

She uncrosses her legs and shifts slightly in her seat as she peruses her magazine. I slowly shift also, trying to relieve some of the tightness in my trousers. I casually use one hand to cover my lap. She is turning the pages more rapidly now.
The next photo is of a gorgeous young girl, sitting in front of a mirror combing her long hair. The reflection in the mirror reveals that she is fully exposed!

My arousal lunges uncontrollably in my pants, and I am unable to catch the faint gasp that escapes my lips. Oh, no! Did she hear me? I begin to perspire.

The girl in the mirror.... the mirror! Could she be watching me from the reflection in the window? I am afraid to look up to see for myself. I feel panic. This is crazy. I'm becoming crazy! "Just relax," I tell myself. But a vital part of me is not relaxed at all, and is pulsating instinctively.

The passenger crosses her legs again and calmly picks up another magazine. Has her skirt risen up just a bit? More of her lovely silk stockings are visible.

My anxiety grows as I realize how undignified I have become. "Mind your own business," I command myself. "Read your book and behave responsibly." The words in my book are a blur, but gratefully I feel the blood seeping out of my member. To my immense relief, I feel my self-control returning.

Just as I start to regain my composure, I involuntarily glimpse at her legs again. I can see almost to the top of her silk stocking along one muscular thigh.

Oh, what an incredible sight!

The relief I felt moments ago has vanished. Thankfully, she has already opened the new magazine and our eyes cannot meet. I try to read my book, but her legs keep moving. Now they are uncrossed, and not altogether snug. My eyes steal another forbidden peek further up her divine thighs.

Was that her panties? I thought I saw a flash of light blue beyond the patterned tops of her stockings. My penis surges. My eyes are straining now, but maybe they are playing tricks on me. Once more I force my attention to my book, but it is hopeless. Then I look at her magazine!

The photos on the page are small, but there can be no mistake. It is a series of photos of a guy and a girl. They are sitting on a bench.... kissing, and he is rubbing her breasts through her shirt. She is a stunning young blond girl and he is tan and muscular.

In the next few photos he unbuttons her shirt to reveal a sheer bra, her erect nipples are showing. He is caressing her breasts while she is rubbing a huge bulge in the front of his pants.

This may be Europe, and maybe people look at such erotic magazines in public, but what the hell am I supposed to do? Pretend I cannot see what she's reading? My penis knows better, and it is throbbing inside my pants. Well, I know exactly what I must do.... quit looking! My invasion of her privacy can only lead to trouble.

She flips the page to the next set of photos. The girl has unzipped his pants and is pulling them down. His huge erection is straining against his underwear as she squeezes it. He has removed her shirt and pushed her bra aside. Damn, what gorgeous firm breasts!

Two photos later she has shed her skirt and he is rubbing the front of her white cotton panties. She has grabbed the top of his underwear to pull them down.

I am holding my book tightly, but it is shaking.... as are my hands.

The woman is holding the magazine a bit higher. I see her abdomen and bottom of her breasts rise and fall with every breath. Thankfully, she cannot see me. When I look down I am horrified to see a moist area spreading on the front of my pants. Immediately I cross my legs, which causes more fluid to seep out. As my eyes creep to her stocking-clad legs, I am now certain that I see her blue panties. In fact, I think I see a dark spot in the center of the crotch panel. I want so badly to grab my aching penis, but of course I can't.

The next page is turned. This is too much.... she has his penis in her hand and is sliding it across her lips. Then she engulfs the head in her mouth. Her eyes are closed as she takes more and more into her mouth. I hear the passenger breathe deeply as her breasts heave. Her hips squirm lower on her seat and her knees slightly part and close repeatedly as her thighs pump against each other.

I cannot help myself. I uncross my legs and quickly reach down to squeeze my engorged penis, which is demanding attention. More semen darkens my pants. I cross my legs again in a vain attempt to hide my shame.

She turns the page. At the same time her legs spread more and her free hand slides to the hem of her skirt, caressing the inside of her thigh. Her delicate fingers are tracing small circles on her stockings. Then, her lovely hand creeps higher and higher, pushing folds of her skirt with it.

The book falls from my hands. I stare, transfixed, as her hand slowly reaches higher yet as her body sinks lower to meet it. Finally, she reaches her panties.... she is rubbing herself!

Her blue panties are soaked with fluid. Her fingers are pushing against the silk material as she sighs. Her gorgeous legs are spread wider, the silk stockings stretching as her muscular thighs flex. I cannot rip my eyes from the front of her sheer panties.... and her loving hand.

I loose all control and slide to my knees at her feet.... what is happening to me! I unzip my pants and free my cock just as she pushes her panties aside and inserts two fingers into her pussy. Her hips are hunching back and forth against her hand.

What if someone opens the door! I scream to myself "Oh, stop me please." as I kneel there, right in front of her.... masturbating!

My eyes are flashing everywhere. I see her swollen nipples pulsating against the thin bra as her breasts move up and down in her blouse. Her fingers are now probing between the folds of her lips, against her clitoris, hips rocking.
The degrading sound of my hand pumping my cock is loud, slipping on a flood of pre-cum fluid.

On the magazine page the girl has taken the boy's penis out of her mouth and is pointing it at herself as he sprays his cum on her breasts and neck. The cum shines as brightly as the lust in the girl's eyes. However, my lust is drawn completely to the woman in front of me.

She moans as three fingers plunge deep into her pussy. My head is spinning as the erotic scent of her sex juices fill the air. I feel my cum surge as I pump my cock furiously. My entire being is rushing through my cock in blinding spasms. My cock erupts and cum splashes on her stockings and further up to her panties. More cum gushes out and covers her hand, which is thrusting in and out of her pussy. She lunges forward against her hand with a muffled scream.

Nearly fainting, I fall forward, catching myself with one hand on the floor. My other hand can't quit stroking my cock, the nerve endings still alive and burning.

As I struggle to regain my breath, she stands and turns to reach up. I look at her incredible calves, then further up between her legs and see the cum gleaming on her stockings and panties. I see my cum! My cock urges me to pump faster. I lean back against the bench as I look up.... and continue masturbating! At the slapping sound of my hand pumping my cock she looks over her shoulder. Panic and dread rush over me.

She turns, facing me, and removes her sunglasses. Without expression, she looks down at me through dark green eyes, watching me.... watching as I helplessly masturbate. She must be revolted as she calmly watches me frantically fuck my hand in front of her. I am completely lost in my depravity!

She puts her hands on her hips, like a teacher ready to scold a child. Our eyes lock. She is staring deep into my scandalous soul as my cock erupts again. Clear streams of cum fly to her feet.

A slight smile touches the corners of her mouth.

I fall to all fours, gasping.... completely spent. My head is bowed low and I see the sordid proof of my perversion lying in puddles on the floor. Exhausted and full of shame, with my cock fully exposed, I can only close my eyes in disgust.

Then I hear the door open!

We have been caught! There is nowhere to hide. There is nothing I can do. My eyes remain closed as I await the cries of recrimination.... as I await my fate.

Then the door closes.

The passenger is gone.

End of Story