Halle Fucking Luiah!

Which is why I am sitting in a brand new car, with my legs spread wide apart, and I'm straddling the bear stick, rubbing it up and down my quim.  But let me start at the beginning. Dad must have been confident, because this car has been kept since I started lessons when I was 18. It's been hidden in one of our barns, and when I came home with my lovely new pass certificate, he just led me out to the barn in question, threw open the doors and handed me the keys.  No more trains.....which is good....and bad. There always the opportunity for a grope on a packed train. (More of that another time) So, insurance in place (£1300 afucking year!) and off I went for a drive, all on my own. That first solo drive is scary, isn't it? Like anything that makes me slightly nervous, it also makes me slightly wet....and slightly wet makes me slightly horny, and slightly horny makes me.....oh well, you get the picture.  So, I'm in a car park, in broad daylight. There is a well known supermarket 100m away, and the car park is busy, but you know what? People in a supermarket car park don't look at each other at all. They're either going into the shop purposefully, or coming out with bags and wanting to get home. For a while, I sat in the drivers seat, just touching myself lightly, hand up my skirt. My knickers were already damp, but my clit (sometimes referred to as my bean....my sex bean) was beginning to throb nicely.  A deep breath, and I slipped my knickers off. They were wetter than I thought. I love my own smell, and my own taste, plus, once exposed to the air, my panties change both smell and taste and I can almost imagine that they are someone else's.  I'm sitting there, hand up my skirt, smelling my quim, when I realise that where I am parked, I'm not in direct line of the shop doorway. In fact, I'm round the corner from that. No one is going to take the slightest bit of notice of me. So I slide between the two seats. Leaning back, and pushing my hips forward, I can feel the cold meal of the gear stick against my quim. Mmmmmmm, that's nice! I'm riding it and desperately wishing I was somewhere really private where I could get above it and see if I can get it in me. I'm certainly wet enough now.  Ever had a postponed orgasm? Ever got yourself to the point of cumming and then made yourself stop? Well, that's what I did. The thought of positioning that gear stick and trying to fuck it was overwhelming. I wriggled back into the drivers seat, hung my knickers on the interior mirror and drove off!  There's a well-known dogging car park nearby, and that's where I went. Of course, at that time of day, there was no one in it, but that suited me. A couple of minutes later, I had the sun roof wide open and my head sticking through it, while that gorgeous gear stick was right over and against my hole. A little spit to was it and it was inside! A couple of moves later, and it was totally slick.  That orgasm was spikey....nasty.....lovely! Everything at once. It rocked through me, and I felt myself squirt.  Mmmmm. Lovely.  But I promised you more about the train. Girls, I guess, are used to guys using a packed train and it's movements to cop a feel, or press up against us. Honestly, I don't mind. In fact, I'll do it too, pressing my mound against the back of a guys hand....well, I figure if they do, all's fair in love and lust!  But there was this one time that I'll always remember. As I think I've told you, I am fastidiously observant. Whether it's the answer to a question in Court, or people in a town centre or on a beach. As my line manager says "You notice minutiae that others miss."  It's a truly packed train, but unusually, I've found myself a corner spot to stand in. Just as well, because I'll be standing in it for over 90 minutes today! To my left is a middle-aged woman, to my right are the train doors. Directly in front of me, and facing me, is a girl in her mid 20's, I guess. Certainly not much older. She has the most amazing eyes! If ever the phrase 'come to be eyes' had meaning, this was what they look like. They had a smouldering, half closed, half open quality. Of course, I scanned her up and down. I noted the high quality clothing, the monogrammed briefcase, and the wedding ring. When girls lock eyes, we smile. Then, either we start a conversation or we look away. She looked away. Didn't want to talk, then. That's ok.  The train we were in was not the newest rolling stock around, and it seemed to rattle and sway more than usual. This meant that there was movement with us too. I was holding my briefcase with both hands in front of me, (You don't put anything on a packed train floor unless you want it whisked out of sight). As I looked at her, I became captivated by those eyes, imagining looking into them when having sex with her. I would, I, shine those eyes alone would make a man cum.  Now, sometimes, my mind tells my body to do something without always informing me first. I felt the knuckles of my right hand let go of the handle of my briefcase and move towards this girls crotch. I felt the material of her skirt brush the back of my hand too. Even as I was thinking "oh for fucks sake, stop it, Claire!" I'd gone too far, and I felt her mound. I couldn't even blame it on the train as we were stationary at the time. Then, to my horror, I felt my hand release its pressure before applying it again, and again, and again. I almost braced myself for the slap I felt sure was coming, but it didn't.  I risked another glance at the girls face. Still those come to bed eyes, still that fleeting smile. So now back in control, I flattened out my fingers and turned my hand over so I could cup that mound properly. Not only didn't she move, I felt a distinct press back.  Our train crawled painfully onwards, and I managed to ruck her skirt up enough to find a deliciously damp pair of panties. Into the waistband I went, down, over a perfectly smooth mound (not shaved, this one. Electrolysis, or something fucking expensive) and then I found her slit.....and the piercing in her clitoral hood. My brain painted the picture of her having this done. Lying down, legs apart, some heavily tattooed biker type between her legs, and her, as well as enjoying the piercing, also getting off on a complete stranger touching her cunt. My finger slipped so easily inside her, and she came so delightfully. She was on her second orgasm before I realised that she was trying to touch me. I broke my cardinal rule, and dropped my briefcase, and cursed the gods that I'd worn trousers that day. It didn't stop her though. My belt button and zipper were undone before I could counter five, and a hand was inside my panties. I must boast a little here. She clearly wasn't as adept at fingering another girl as I am, but she got the job done....three times, in fact.  We got out of the train together at London Victoria, and I was expecting her to just vanish in the crowd, instead, she linked her arm through mine and said "let's get a coffee". Once settled somewhere quiet, she told me her name was Kirsty, and that she was married, and that she had long fantasized about touching another woman....and being touched by one. "It's so different to being fingered by a man, isnt it?  She asked, almost breathlessly. I told her there's a lot more to it. "Just wait till you get a girl to suck you." And that's when she used her secret weapon.....those fucking eyes! "Must I? Wait, that is?"  We were in a toilet cubicle and I don't remember walking there! She was leaning back against the wall, I had her (Harrods) panties in my briefcase, and my tongue was exploring her clit, and everything to do with it. She came.....and came....and came.....and came some more. I think she would have gone on for longer, but neither of us were in London for fun that day.....although we were sure as shit having fun now.  She returned the favour, and slipped my panties in her bag. Although she wasn't as experienced as me, well, a girl knows what a girl likes, right?  We went our separate ways, and I realised that a) I wasn't wearing panties....not a god idea in trousers.....and b) I had hers in my case. When I arrived where I was going, (an Inn of Court, if you must know) I ducked into a toilet there, and slipped her panties on. There is something really sexy about high quality underwear, especially if they are someone else's, and they are still wet!  They have been washed several times now, but they are my "posh panties", and every time I wear them, I'm reminded of a few things. Sex is everywhere.....just below the surface, but everywhere. Girls can access it far easier than guys....and I LOOOOOOVE my sex life! (Notice....NOT my love life which remains an area of total devastation)  For that, I think I have to thank my mum and dad who never put any barriers up to sex. They showed me the externally imposed conventional falseness of monogamy. They taught me about sex as surely as they taught me to read, and above all, they were, and are totally non-judgemental. Mum could find me in bed with a whole rugby team, and all she would do is make them all tea. Most teenagers have to hide their sexual development from their parents, me, Chris and Jayne benefitted from parents who never hid it under some kind of mask or veil. We knew what sex was, we knew the difference between lovemaking and fucking.....and most importantly, that there is a place for both. We were all taught about safe sex, but at no point were any of us told that this or that practice was off limits. We were free to explore, to make choices, and to talk openly about them.