My confession by anonymous

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I confess… to having sex on a train.

And it was an absolutely jam-packed train too. It was in a corridor and couldn’t have been more public.

So what drove two very ordinary, law-abiding and well brought up young people to do something so outrageous as partaking of sex on a train?

Rewind a few weeks to where it all began. My girlfriend at the time was a stunning blonde with legs that everyone envied. She had fantastic breasts, too. And also a cute butt and breathtakingly electric blue eyes. I adored her from the moment I saw her. She was a goddess. I spent the whole year at university trying to get noticed. So did everyone else.

I decided to play the long game in the hope that others would push too fast, too soon and wreck their chances. To be honest, I rated my own chances as slim at best.

But, to my total surprise, the strategy worked and at the end of the summer term, we were just about dating. It was then that I played my full hand. Knowing that my girlfriend liked to travel, I suggested we did an Interrail trip around Europe during the long summer break.

She said yes and we set off, rucksacks crammed with too many clothes, to our first destination—the Mediterranean and the beaches in the south of France.

It was a big risk as we’d only just started going out and because I was among the very sensible minority of students, I hadn’t actually suggested we have sex so early in our relationship. So we hadn’t actually slept with each other yet. We had ‘petted’ to use the term used in those days, but not actually done ‘it’.

After hours on trains across France, we arrived at one of the trendy resorts where the rich, famous and sexy hang out. We got there in the evening and spent our first night in the youth hostel—in those days there was a dormitory for men and one for women.

Next day we headed to the beach and this was what pushed us into that act on the train. I had always assumed that my girlfriend was as conservative as me. We’d touched tongues of course. I had even put my hands down her T-shirt and fondled her breasts, but only through her bra. She’d stroked the crotch of my trousers, but it was always through the material. We’d never actually touched skin in those areas of our bodies.

But on the beach, it soon became apparent that there was rather more to her. We had put our swimming gear in a smaller bag on leaving the hostel and when we got to the beach, we changed. I was rather surprised that she only had one small item of swimwear. She had only brought a bikini bottom. “Everyone goes topless these days,” she said as she slipped out of her knickers and into her bikini briefs, hardly bothering to cover up with a towel as she did so.

Her breasts were stunning. They’d always looked good under a T-shirt, but seeing them in their full glory, with large nipples was almost too much for me and my cock started to push against my trunks.

As the day went on, the whole situation just got hotter. Not only was I lying next to the hottest of women, but there were also countless other topless ones all around. Tattoos were just coming into trend, but only tiny ones around women’s bikini area. My girlfriend noticed this on a woman who was lying next to us. She started chatting to her in French—that came easy to her as she was studying Modern Languages. The women chatted for ages and there was much gesturing and gazing at the tiny dot of ink right next to the French woman’s pussy, which was hardly covered by the tiniest of thongs.

At the end of the conversation, the French woman leaned forward and kissed her—not on the cheek, but on her lips. Their breasts rubbed together as she did this. And I noticed that my girlfriends’ nipples were rock hard when she returned.

She then announced she wanted a tattoo exactly like the one the woman had. She wanted it in just the same place. And she wanted to get it done this trip.

Sadly, we had only the day on the beach as we were heading to a small guesthouse farther up the coast and had to catch the night train to get there on time. We changed. I took one last look at my girlfriend’s breasts, returned to the youth hostel and picked up our rucksacks.

The walk to the station was a long one and we were dripping by the time we got there. And we weren’t alone. The platform was packed and we only just got into the train. We were wedged in the corridor with hot, young bodies tight against us.

It was a slow train and an old one too. Only a few minutes into the journey the lights went out. There was a collective groan.

Shortly afterwards I felt a hand on my groin. It then undid my fly and started to massage my cock. I turned in astonishment to my girlfriend who was also pushing her breasts tight against my chest. She started to kiss me, tenderly at first, then more greedily.

She was clearly every bit as turned on as I was. That day on the beach had raised our levels of sexual temperature to near boiling point.

I eased my hand between the bodies around and slid it under the belt on my girlfriend’s shorts and into her sodden pussy. I only just knew what a clitoris was in those days, but located it and started to rub it.

By now she had started to pump me very gently, not enough to arouse interest from our fellow travellers. To be honest, it didn’t prove quite enough to get me to come, but that didn’t matter as I was able to enjoy my girlfriend’s several orgasms that followed and taboo of enjoying sex on a train.

The journey was a long one and we stood all the way, but despite this, we arrived with smug smiles on our faces.

And so we carried on in the same vein and fucked our way around Europe that summer.

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