A Train Car Named Desire Ch. 02

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Brunette

Love at first sight, a married man meets the dream woman of his sexual fantasies on the commuter train to work.

Continued from Chapter 01:

Just eighteen years old, he was so very, sexually excited kissing Mary Elizabeth, his prom date. French kissing her, he felt her naked breasts and fingered her erect nipples. Then, after he fingered her pussy, she sucked his cock, allowed him to cum in her mouth, and swallowed. She was his first everything, his first kiss, his first French kiss, the first naked breasts he saw, felt, and sucked, and his first blowjob. He was beyond being sexually excited.

As sexually attracted to his mother as he was to her, aside from him not having sexual intercourse with his prom date, even so, with them doing everything else, technically, he was no longer a virgin. Now that he had sex with his mother’s much younger, look-alike, extrapolating his sexual lust for his prom date to his mother, he wondered what it would really be like to have sex with his mother. Having sex with Mary Elizabeth inspired him to masturbate more while imagining his mother naked and having sex with her.

Yet, hoping she’d be his steady girlfriend, even though he was happy that she was a whore, he was crushed that she was a whore. He no longer imagined marrying her. Now that Mary Elizabeth was out of the picture, refocusing on his mother again, he wondered if she’d have sex with him. In the way that he had his wicked, sexual way with Mary Elizabeth’s naked breasts and her naked pussy, he’d love to have his wicked, sexual way with his mother’s naked breasts and her naked pussy.

Yet, knowing that his mother would never have sex with him, he knew that having sex with his mother was nothing more than a sexual fantasy while masturbating himself. Nonetheless, in the way that Mary Elizabeth stroked him and sucked him, with both women looking so very much alike, it was easy to imagine his mother doing the same. He’d love to have his mother stroke him and suck him, too.

Continuing with his incestuous, sexual fantasy, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like for his mother to stroke him and suck him. In the way that he ejaculated his cum in Mary Elizabeth’s mouth, he’d love to ejaculate his cum in his mother’s mouth. Now, he wondered how he could make his sexual fantasy his reality. He wondered how he could sexually seduce his mother.

Playing it all out in his horny mind, he imagined stroking his cock before entering his mother’s bedroom. He imagined having a huge erection that tented his pajamas when entering her room. When he entered his mother’s bedroom, he imagined his mother wearing a short, sexy, sheer, and a practically see-through nightgown with the hem of her nightgown raised nearly up to her crotch. He imagined seeing a glimpse of his mother’s red, trimmed, naked pussy as soon as he opened her door. He imagined staring at her naked pussy before making his presence known.

‘Mom,’ he imagined saying to his mother.

He imagined her putting her book down to look at him while giving him her full attention. Then, as if she was hypnotized by his erection and mesmerized by the sight of his huge cock tenting his pajama bottoms, he imagined watching her blue eyes go straight to his rigid, pajama clad cock. He imagined his mother staring at what she could discern of his erect cock through his pajama bottoms in the way that he stared at all that he could see of her nearly, naked breasts through her nightgown and at her naked pussy.

‘Yes, Matthew, what is it, Honey,’ he imagined his mother asking him?

In the way that she continued staring at his pajama clad erection, he continued staring at all that he could see of his mother’s exposed, naked pussy. Pussy for cock, wishing his cock would pop out of his pajama pee hole, he’d love to deliberately expose his naked, erect prick to his mother in the way that she was unintentionally exposing her naked pussy to him. Now, that he was seeing her red pussy, her pussy mound, her pussy slit, and her camel toe, he’d love to finger her pussy while licking her pussy before fucking her red cunt.

‘I had a really bad nightmare, Mom,” he said pausing as if afraid to ask her his question while trying to look frightened. “Sorry for putting you in an awkward spot, but may I sleep with you tonight?’

Taking unprecedented boldness for an 18-year-old, young man to ask his 39-year-old mother if he could sleep with her, yet, sleeping with her in her bed was the first step in sexually seducing her. He’d love nothing better than to press his pajama clad body against her nightgown clad body. Fuck the pajamas. He’d rather sleep with her in the nude. He imagined his mother smiling while nodding her head and pulling down the blanket on his side of the bed as he removed his t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He imagined stripping himself naked.

‘Matthew,’ he imagined his mother saying while staring at his erect, naked prick with her eyes bugging out of her head. ‘What are casino siteleri you doing? Why are you naked? We’re only sleeping together. We’re not having sex,’ he imagined her looking a little disappointed by saying that they’re not having sex.

He laughed a nervous, little laugh while lying to his mother.

‘I always sleep in the nude, Mother,’ he imagined saying while climbing in bed next to her. ‘I thought you knew that.’

He imagined his mother looking as shocked that her son was naked as much as she seemed sexually aroused that he was climbing in bed with her without his clothes. She turned her back to him when he climbed in bed with her and allowed him to move closer to her. He moved close enough to feel the warmth of her sexy, motherly body. Moving closer still, now with his naked cock pressed tightly against her nightgown clad ass, he imagined holding her, hugging her, cuddling her, spooning her, and dry humping her firm and shapely, nightgown clad ass.

Then, not wanting to miss this opportunity should it never happen again, he put his arm around her waist just beneath her big breasts. With her nightgown clad breasts resting on his forearm, he held her, hugged her, cuddled her, spooned her, and dry humped his mother. His plan was that as soon as she fell asleep, that he’d cup her big tits through her nightgown in the palm of his hand and feel her big breasts through her thin nightgown.

During the night, while she lay sleeping, he imagined stealthily raising her nightgown to her waist to expose her naked ass and the back of her naked, glistening, wet pussy. Then, while still feeling his mother’s big tits, he imagined fingering her erect nipples through her nightgown as she slept. Going where no son should go with his mother, humping her, he imagined sliding his erect, naked prick in his mother’s naked pussy from behind. Once he was securely inside of her, not caring if he awakened her, he imagined humping her harder and faster while fucking her deeper from behind.

‘David! Oh, my God, David,’ he imagined his mother awakening. ‘What are you doing? This is wrong. This is so wrong. You can’t have sex with your mother. That’s incest. It’s wrong for you to fuck me,’ he imagined her saying while squirming and wiggling her shapely ass and allowing his cock to slide deeper inside of her naked pussy.

Not stopping him by pulling away from him, she allowed him to continue to fuck her. Not even slapping his horny hand away, she allowed him to have his wicked, sexual way with her nightgown clad breasts. While he humped her harder, faster, and deeper, she allowed him to pull, turn, and twist her erect nipples through her nightgown. Then, when he stuck his hand down her nightgown top, she allowed him to fondle and feel her naked breasts.

Not allowing her son to have all the fun, he imagined his mother taking his erect prick in her hand before taking it in her mouth. While she stared up at him with her blue eyes, he imagined her stroking him. Then, he imagined her lowering herself halfway down the bed to take him in her mouth. Even though this incestuous scenario was all imagined, as if it had already happened, it seemed so real. When he finally ejaculated while masturbating himself, he imagined cumming in his mother’s mouth and her swallowing his cum.

‘I love you, Mom,’ he imagined saying while stroking the side of her face and running his fingers through her lush red hair, while she wiped droplets of his cum from her chin.

# # #

Yet, even more than having imagined sex with his mother, the piece de la résistance was having his wicked, sexual way with Mary Elizabeth armpits. He’d never forget his prom date’s beautiful and sexy armpits. When she raised her arms to fix her hair in his rearview mirror, he couldn’t help himself. As if he was sexually violating her pussy instead of her armpits, he was determined to have his wicked, sexual way with her beautiful and sexy armpits first with his finger and then with his tongue. Not stopping there, he hoped she’d allow him to fuck her armpits with his cock.

As if she was a wicked whore instead his first love, unknowingly and unintentionally, sexually teasing him, she had flashed him her naked armpits. Such a shame that she was such a whore because she had beautiful armpits. Yet, whatever he thought about her, with her a confessed cocksucker, she didn’t reach his high, albeit convoluted, moral standards of a wife and a sexual partner for life. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help himself from touching her armpit, fingering her armpit, sniffing her armpit, and licking her armpit.

Now, with Mary Elizabeth out of the picture, he wondered again if his mother would have incestuous sex with him. In the way that he saw and felt his prom date’s naked breasts, he’d love to see and feel his mother’s naked breasts. In the way that he masturbated her, he’d love to masturbate his mother. In the way that she stroked him, sucked him, and allowed him to cum in her mouth, he’d slot oyna love his mother to stroke him, suck him, and allow him to cum in her mouth.

In the way that he felt, fingered, licked, and sniffed Mary Elizabeth armpits, he’d love to have his sexual way with his mother’s armpits too. What’s wrong with that? They were just armpits. He didn’t see anything wrong with sexually playing with his mother’s armpits. Others have done far worse when tossing someone’s salad by licking their ass or licking their feet and sucking their toes.

Chapter 02:

For nearly the next, twenty-years of his life, as if he was Cervantes’ Don Quixote searching for his Dulcinea, surely, there had to be a woman who loved having her armpits fingered, sniffed, licked, and fucked. In a world gone mad with everything sex and money, surely, he can’t be the only one who’s into armpits. There must be a woman who shares his sexual fascination for having her armpits adored. What’s the big deal? It’s just an armpit. It isn’t as if he’s eating a woman’s pussy or licking a woman’s ass.

‘It’s an armpit. It’s just an armpit,’ thought David. ‘What’s the big deal?’

Searching for a woman who shared his kink for armpits, unable to find her, Matthew settled for a woman who wasn’t ticklish or turned off by his sexual fascination with armpits. With Matthew’s search finally over, in the way that Don Quixote found his Dulcinea, Matthew married his wife, a woman who reluctantly allowed him to have his wicked, sexual fun with her hairy armpits and shaved armpits. Of course, preferring shaved armpits to hairy armpits, armpits weren’t all that he cared about. Armpits added another, erotic dimension to his sexual excitement and to his highest admiration of the female body.

In all the years he had searched for his dream woman with Internet dating sites, blind dating, and meeting women in bars, it figured that he’d find the woman he was searching for after he was married. With all the women he had dated and had meaningless sex with while sexually fantasizing about his perfect, armpit woman, it figured that he’d find the one that he had searched to find when he was no longer looking. Alas, now that he was married, if he tried to sexually seduce his dream woman, he’d be cheating on his wife and be deemed a cheater and a cad.

Yet, when seeing her in the flesh on the commuter car, he lost all control of his remaining reservations about cheating and his loyalty to the faithfulness to his wife. When hearing her talk and laugh, and watching her smile, he forgot the vows of his marriage. Unable to talk, as if seeing a windmill for the first time, all he could do was stare. Looking a bit like Charlize Theron but with much bigger tits, and much more beautiful, by far, than his wife, she was the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen in his life.

‘She’s the one. She’s my dream, fantasy woman. I can’t believe I finally found her on, of all places, a commuter train to work,’ he thought.

Without knowing anything about her, without even knowing her name, he wanted this woman more than any woman he had ever wanted in his life. Love at first sight, he imagined marrying her. If he wasn’t already married, without knowing anything about her, he’d ask her to marry him. If he wasn’t already married, he’d run away with her to Tahiti, to Bali, or to Kansas City, Kansas, the city with the cheapest cost of living in the United States. If he wasn’t already married, he’d give her his baby.

‘Matthew, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife,’ he imagined the priest asking him?

He looked at the priest before looking at her.

‘Wait,’ he imagined saying while turning to look at the woman that he met on the commuter train standing beside him in her wedding gown and holding a bouquet of roses. ‘I don’t even know her name. Before I marry you, I need to know your name. What’s your name?’

What’s in a name? Nothing, especially if he didn’t know her name. He needed to know her name. He needed to know her name when telling his friends and family about her. He needed to know what to call her when he as dreaming of her naked and her having sex with him. He imagined her name being Abigail, Aurora, Bella, Caroline, Crystal, Donatella, Eva, Felicia, Gemma, Heather, Laurel, Meadow, Olivia, Sophia, or Tiffany.

“Susan,” she said surprising him.

‘Susan,’ he thought? ‘Somehow Sue doesn’t go with the beautiful image of her. Susan,’ he thought while imagining kissing her. ‘Susan,’ he thought while imagining stripping her naked and having sex with her. ‘Susan,’ he thought when telling her that he loved her.

“I love you, Susan.”

# # #

In all the years since Mary Elizabeth, searching for his sexual fantasy woman, never did he imagine that he’d have sex with a woman he met on a commuter train without even knowing her name. Believing that only happened in the movies or when with a prostitute, what animals don’t exchange names before stripping canlı casino siteleri themselves naked and having sex? Yet, here he was ready to kiss her and have sex with her without so much as knowing her name. Other than she was tall, blonde, and had an exquisite arm and armpit, having not even seen her face, he knew nothing else about her.

Even after seeing her standing in the distance, on the other end of the commuter car, never did he imagine kissing her, French kissing her, while touching her and feeling her everywhere through her clothes. Something that he’d never do, never did he imagine that he’d reach beneath her short sundress and cup her pussy through her panties before sticking his horny hand down the front of her panties. Taking two, like-minded individuals to commit such sexual debauchery, never did he imagine that a woman he didn’t know and had just met would allow him to masturbate her.

Shocking him and sexually exciting him, never did he imagine that a woman he didn’t know would move to her knees on the train platform and blow him while allowing him to feel her naked breasts and finger her erect nipples. What kind of woman who didn’t even know his name would allow him to cum in her mouth? If that wasn’t enough, too good to be true, what woman that he had just met would allow him to ejaculate his cum all over her face, in her hair, and across her naked breasts while fingering her armpits?

‘This is the woman that I’ve been looking to find all of my life. I love this woman,’ he thought.

# # #

‘Dear Diary,

A man was staring at me on the commuter car on my way to work today,’ wrote Susan. ‘What else is new? Men always stare at me. You’d think they never saw a tall, pretty blonde with long legs, big tits, and a shapely ass before.’

While remembering and recording the events of her day in her diary, she continued writing.

‘Sometimes, depending on the man who’s staring, admittedly, part of the exhibitionist whore that I am, I like being stared at. Yet, most times, undressing me with their eyes, especially in the way that they stare at me as if I’m already naked, I feel so violated. As if I’m their whore for the taking, they make me feel naked. They make me feel dirty. While they stare at the big impressions of my tits and the shapely roundness of my ass through my clothes, they make me feel like a thing instead of a person and a sexual object instead of a woman.’

“What’s wrong with them for staring? How dare they? Who do they think they are by invading my privacy and making me feel uncomfortable with their stares, leers, and lustful looks? Are all men perverted, sexual predators?”

In just the course of one day, while thinking of all the men who sexually violated her by staring at her and leering at her, she continued writing her private thoughts in her diary.

‘Only, this time was different,’ she wrote. ‘Instead of undressing me with his stare, he stared at my naked arm. I’ve had plenty of men staring at my ass through my clothes, but never at my naked arm. I’ve had plenty of men staring at my breasts through my clothes, but never has any man stared at my naked underarm. With my arm raised while holding onto the train strap, it was so weird that he stared at my exposed armpit.’

With mixed feelings of uncomfortableness and sexual arousal, she thought of the man at the other end of the commuter car staring at her armpit.

# # #

‘Understandably, with me being so tall, much taller than all of my classmates in grade school, I’m accustomed to being somewhat of a circus oddity,’ wrote Susan in her diary. ‘With most women 5’4″ tall and a few inches taller in heels, a carbon copy of my mother, the same height as Charlize Theron and Taylor Swift, I’m 5’10” in my stocking feet. When wearing heels and my hair coiffed higher, I’m in the height range of Gwendoline Christie, who played Brienne of Tarth, in the Games of Thrones.’

With them all mostly short, aggressive men, she recalled all the men who were sexually attracted to her and who dated her.

‘With Gwendoline 6’3″ tall in her stocking feet, and 6’8″ tall when wearing heels with a coiffed hairdo, intimidating to most men, especially to shorter men, I’m 6’3″ tall with heels and with a coiffed hairdo,’ she wrote. ‘Although, seemingly, as if I’m their wet dream, fantasy woman, surprisingly, while making my point, I receive more attention from shorter men than I do from taller men. I guess there’s something sexually arousing about a short man bedding a tall woman. Oddly and conversely enough, as if they’re keen to dominate them, many times, taller men are sexually attracted to much shorter women.’

She thought of some of the average men who were sexually attracted to a beautiful woman. In the way of beauty and the beast, so very many good-looking women are attracted to homely, rock stars. Guys are lucky that most women don’t care about what a man looks like on the outside. Their love connection is more about who he is on the inside. Whereas men want a supermodel with big tits, it’s more important to women to be with someone kind, loving, caring, understanding, and a good provider than to be with a GQ cover model with a big dick.

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