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The surge forward, the hopeful looks for a seat and disappointment; all seats taken. I found myself pressed into the back of the carriage with my back against the wall with nowhere to move. The next two stations came and went with little notice paid by me. I had quickly discovered a book was the easiest way to pass the time. I slowly became aware of a wonderful perfume, it seemed to come from everywhere and was creeping up on me like a slinky fog. Not the usual cheap muck, I thought. This smelt wonderful right to the back of my throat. I looked out from my book and down slightly. There was a very beautiful face looking back at me. She was stunning, aged fortyish, dark brown hair with eyes you could dive right into. My throat went dry, but shyness and British reserve took over and I said nothing. The next stop arrived and the surge pushed in. The lady had turned around to face the onslaught and was pushed tight, arse against my crotch. Calm down, I thought, you have forty-five minutes. Danielle smiled down at Jake, her mind casting back to her teen years. This was just like the way it had been with her brother, first the hand-jobs, then the blow-jobs, and then the hard, driving feel of her brother's solid 8 inches filling her cunt, bursting her virgin barrier, tearing away that barrier to pleasure. Her pussy started to cream up crazily, slick and hot with her juices, as she recalled the pleasure, the large zing of pain as he deflowered her, then the pleasure growing, quickly replacing the pain, turning it all to pleasure, and soon, she was humping up at his hips madly, her orgasm racing at her, she felt the spasms starting, squealing and crying out as her orgasm burst inside of her. Her brother had given a loud growl of pleasure, and buried his cock, she could feel the coursing warmth that flowed into her, her brother's cock pumping and jerking, jetting his passion for his sister deep inside her. The heated remembering caused her own orgasm to rise, Danielle rode.
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