Train Stranger: My First Pulse-Racing Digital Seduction
I slide into the train compartment from Paris to Brive. Laptop snaps shut. Four hours done. Eyes drift down. Legs across from me. Perfectly smooth. Crossed. Uncrossed. Skirt hugs knees. Black matte fabric strains. My pulse kicks up. What’s under there? Imagination floods. Soft mound. Warmth. Heat creeps to my groin. I fight it. Business…