Story Codes: MF, handjob, fdom, Mf, anal, rape
This story is complete fiction.
I had a long train journey ahead of me. I hated these, despite the near-empty carriage. Some chav girls showing garish mobile phones to each other; they were so trashy there was something quite attractive about them, but that was it. I briefly wondered what it would be like to fuck a 14-year old piece of trash covered with fake tan and dressed like a hooker, but the more noise they made the less appealing they seemed. Bored, I made myself as comfortable as possible and decided to get some sleep. I never felt rested after sleeping on a train, but it passed the time.
I woke up from a wonderful dream involving raping the noisiest and trashiest of the girls while I drowned her in the stinking carriage toilet to the muzzy realisation that someone was sitting next to me. Groggily I shook my head and looked at the person sitting next to me. It was Billie Piper. I shook my head some more, this had to still be a dream. She was looking at me with a wide smile, and her pretty face only became clearer the more I tried to clear my mind of any residual wet dreams.
“Hello” She said, clearly amused by my confusion. I struggled to take in that I had woken up next to Billie Piper – alright, it was next to her on a train carriage rather than in bed beside her, but it was still taking some believing. I became painfully aware of my semi-hard cock straining against my flies, still throbbing from the thought of being clamped down by a teenage arsehole. I glanced around the carriage. The girls were still there, having all got bored of each others’ inanities and also fallen asleep, but that was it. So why was Billie sitting next to me, revelling in my inability to comprehend her presence?
I snatched a glance at my cock, hoping to will it into retreat. I looked back to her desperate to think of anything to say other than “Are you Billie Piper?”, and to my horror saw she was looking at my crotch, her expression still one of wry amusement. I was paralysed as she gently rested one of her hands on my flies. Bizarrely, while she was just wearing blue jeans and a plain white top, she had an elbow-length lace glove on her right arm.
“Is that because of me?” She asked coyly. My mind raced as I tried to think of an answer in such a bizarre situation. She wasn’t helping, but technically it was the three tarts snoozing opposite. Billie seemed to guess.
“Or is it those skanks over there?” Without moving her hand, she glanced over at the girls. “Yeh, those look like they’d give it up for a tenner. I would at that age. Actually, I tended to give it for free, I didn’t need the money.”
I was still in a befuddled state of utter confusion. I’d woken up on a train carriage to find Billie Piper talking dirty and putting a hand on my cock. Any hope I had of understanding the situation took a blow when she looked back at me.
“Looks like you need to relieve some pressure” she said with a smile, and deftly unzipped my flies with one hand, hooking my prick out with the other. It knew what to do at least, and the sensation of the lace gloves ensured that after only a second in her palm it was fully erect. I opened my mouth to say something and stopped when she began gently stroking my shaft.
“This’ll save you having to have a wank over them in the toilets, won’t it?” Billie grinned slyly. I briefly thought of pointing out to her that this was probably a lot more dangerous, but those gloves really did feel wonderful. If Billie Piper wanted to rub my cock, who was I to stop her.
Feeling I had to contribute something other than a bizarre mix of embarrassment and desperation for sexual release. “I’d rather wank over you”, I said, aware that it didn’t sound like such a good line out loud. Billie flashed me another smile and ever so slightly increased her pace. Right answer, it would seem.
“Did you wank over me in Diary of a Call Girl?” I managed a nod. “I did have some great costumes in that. How about Doctor Who?” I nodded again. “Yeh, I think most people wanked over me in Doctor Who. There’s probably a lot of little boys out there who knocked out their first ever load to me in that. What about when I was a pop star?” I nodded again, a little harder – her pace had increased slightly with every nod, though it was still frustratingly gentle. She had been looking casually at me the whole time as if we were simply having a normal conversation
“Oh, was that your favourite? I was 15 when I started that, you perv!” She smirked, with no apparent rancour. “You liked my little jailbait body, did you? I did look fucking hot for a kid, though.” She looked back down at my prick.
“Are you thinking of me now, doing this when I was 15?” I nodded. She continued. “You’re unlucky you didn’t live near me then. I used to do this all the time, even then. Not just the hands, either. Not being mean, but that’s all your getting, just so you don’t get carried away. Try for anything else and I’ll pull the alarm.”
I nodded once again, feeling like a moron. It was slightly disappointing not to have even the chance of fucking her, but if you’d told me this morning Billie Piper would be giving me a handjob I’d have been happy with that. It occurred to me that she was clearly some control freak getting off on dominating me, but I’ll be honest – I couldn’t care less.
“No, the boys at school got everything” She sighed dreamily. “I got gang-banged by the rugby team, I gave blowjobs to teachers behind the bike sheds, my best friend’s dad screwed me in her bedroom at her 15th birthday party while she was downstairs getting her presents… Do you want me to tell you a story that happened to me in school?”
I nodded, pathetically, willing to do anything to prolong this painfully erotic experience.
“How about I tell you what happened to me the time I got sent off playing netball?”
I nodded once more. Her pace picked up slightly, the lace scraping sensually over the throbbing purple tip of my cock as she jerked me.
“Well, I got sent off for shoving this bitch called Georgia. Her mum was P.E. teacher at the school, so she never got in trouble. I was pretty pissed off until I realised it meant I had the changing room to myself for a little while. I hurried in and laid back on one of the wooden benches, and slipped my hand down my knickers. I was wet already and I closed my eyes and began fingering my little pussy. My pubes had just started to come through, all thin and fuzzy. I loved putting my hand down there. So I was there wanking off, and I was really horny so I came in, like, a minute and squirted all over my own hand. Can you imagine how great I looked?”
“Uh-huh” I managed to pant, my cock also twitching in approval. She nodded approvingly.
“Yeh, me with my little boobs and tight pussy dressed in my netball gear cumming in my knickers. I bet you’d pay a lot to have those knickers, wouldn’t you? Anyway, I opened my eyes and Georgia’s mum is standing over me looking stunned. I don’t know why she left the lesson, probably to give me another telling off. She never told me why, because the next thing I know she’s burying her face in my sopping, smelly little crotch. She was licking my pussy through my wet shorts and panties and just sniffing really loudly. I thought it was a bit funny, but it felt really, really good. The bitch knew a lot about getting girls off I can tell you.”
She gently squeezed my dick, and a thin drop of precum oozed out in response, soaking into the palm of her glove. Billie gave another smug grin, getting exactly what she wanted from me.
“Did you like that story?” She asked, in the same tone of voice as a nurse asking if a patient felt better.
“Yes” I hissed through gritted teeth. My body wanted to cum properly very badly, but I also knew this encounter would be over as soon as I did. I was doing my best to think of something mundane or outright repulsive to boost my endurance, but my mind was taken over by images of a teenage Billie being joyfully used as a fucktoy by an entire comprehensive school.
“Now, you might think I’ve got a pussy like a bucket after 18 years of fucking like a rabbit, but I can tell you I haven’t. I’ve never been fisted and I rarely let guys with big donkey cocks get any – just every now and then as a treat. That way I stay all tight and elastic. But the real trick is muscle control. I can do stuff with my cunt most girls can’t do with their hands. My hands are quite skilled, though, aren’t they?”
I nodded. I’d had handjobs before, but Billie was turning it into an art form now.
“Anyway, my pussy. I can make the muscles clench and twitch around a lucky man’s cock.”
Billie gave my prick another series of squeezes, running her fingers along it like she was doing chord changes on a guitar. Three or four more droplets of precum were added to the glove as I experienced the bitter-sweet pain of trying to fight against my orgasm. She increased her pace.
“If you were fucking me right now I’d clamp your throbbing prick in my minge so you couldn’t pull out. I’d wrap my legs around you and milk you with my pussy. Can you imagine what it would be like, you hilt deep in me with my expert cunt gripping and twisting around you, sucking the cum out of your balls?”
Her hand was suddenly frantic, a blur as it rode up and down my raw aching prick.
“Cum for me.” She said softly.
I had no choice, I did as I was told. Her bare left hand flashed around in an instant catching the seemingly endless threads of sperm shooting from my sensitive cock and pooling in her palm. As I fought against screaming and tried to breathe she lifted her hand to her mouth and sensually licked my mess up with three long, deliberate strokes of her tongue, keeping firm eye contact. The train began to slow.
“My stop!” She said. I was too blissed out and confused to say anything at all as she stood up and hurried down the carriage, half-tripping over the leg of one of the chav girls as she went. I half-wondered whether she’d paced the handjob to the journey or was just getting out now she’d had her fun.
I didn’t have the energy to look out the window to see if she’d actually disembarked, or even work out what station it was. I didn’t even have the energy to put my dick away, still jutting out at an obscene forty-five degree angle. It was still as hard as a rock, and I could tell it would be a while before that changed. Despite the orgasm I felt like I hadn’t had a release.
The girl she had bumped into had stirred, but seemed too dozy to take in my state. She stood woozily and headed down the carriage towards the toilet cubicle. My cock doing most of the thinking, I stood up and followed her, the thing standing proudly, leading me after the piece of trash. I idly wondered whether Billie had knocked her on purpose to initiate the scenario, knowing full well that after the sexual torture she had put me through I’d still be horny enough to follow the young skank and do disgusting things to her.
As I forced the teenager to the carriage floor, her tracksuits and panties already pulled down thanks to the superhuman speed and strength my libido lent me, one hand on her neck, the other guiding my cock towards her tight, inviting bumhole, I reflected on this odd idea. I smiled as the little tart groaned and sobbed, and told myself not to be stupid.
Of course Billie had known.