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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Silent Night
by Peter_Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
A very brief yet bittersweet Christmas remembrance from
long ago. One that carries with it not simply the hopes
and dreams of youth but also the realization that the
most mundane of homeward journeys might just tip one
over into the twilight zone - however briefly! (teen-
couples, mast, rom)
***
Reminded of it by the encroaching festive season, I
thought I might share with you a somewhat brief
recollection from my youth. Whether you believe it or
not is really of no importance. There are days that
even I wonder!
Spur-of-the-moment sexual encounters are nothing in the
way of a radical occurrence these days. What made this
special was the fact that the girl was quite obviously
no "horny teen" on the make, simply a fellow traveler,
finding herself at the dictate of circumstances
incumbent upon her at that moment in her life.
I was but seventeen myself and travelling home a week
before Christmas, on the South-eastern line from
'Charing Cross' Station which as it happened, was right
across from the department store in the Strand, where I
worked as a junior salesman in the electrical
department.
The train one of the old solidly-built double-deckers
that populated the line in peak hours, was crammed, in
the manner of a sardine can. Let's just say that anyone
with bad breath might have found themselves socially
ostracized.
Picking up even more workers at 'London Bridge,' the
train was so full, had you wished to disembark in the
for-seeable future, you would have needed to prepare
for it a couple of stations earlier, to allow yourself
time to gain access to a door. As for myself, I was
wedged mid-aisle between seating compartments and
overhead luggage racks. I can still smell that wood and
leather polish.
Hard to avoid the proximity of a young girl when her
bottom is crushed up against your upper thighs and her
mane of hair all but sealing your nasal orifices. To
say we were "spooned" is no exaggerated metaphor. At
one point she glanced around and looked up at me as if
to apologize for her un-lady-like crowding of my
person. Aside from wanting to marry her on the instant,
I simply gave thanks to God for his generosity in
selecting me to be her fellow standing commuter. So
pretty was she and so sweet-smelling that girlish body,
albeit wrapped as it was in a thick winter coat, I
needed those luggage racks to support my weakened legs.
Something less than a sexual predator in those days,
I'm sure I did not have an erection, despite the
procreative massage her rear-end was unavoidably
bequeathing me as a result of the swaying carriage. The
sensation however of having her that up-close and
personal was something I remember never wanting to end.
I just prayed she lived at the end of the line or at
the very least, way past my station.
The playing field altered dramatically when the train
braked unexpectedly, coming into 'New Cross' station.
Everyone was thrown forward with the inertia and
instinctively I put my arm around the girl to prevent
her from falling. An older man in front of her did
actually stumble I recall.
Just for a second she looked up at me and mouthed a
"Thank you." I was so wholly captivated, it was only
after we started picking up speed as we left 'New
Cross,' I realized my arm was still around her.
Impulse is a wonderful thing. It lets you do things
without having first to weigh up the consequences.
Standing probably no more than five-two or three, the
collar of her dark woollen coat presented itself
fractionally below my chin, almost hidden by the
proliferation of what I would think were natural auburn
curls that fell a long way past her shoulders. Perhaps
I was intoxicated by her subtle perfume and temporarily
unhinged, but I remember gently leaning forward and
nuzzling her neck through all that hair. She smelt
angelic and I knew I was holding her a fraction
tighter. I knew SHE knew it
The least perceptible of sighs handed me the keys to
the city. She pushed backwards with her body, just
enough to let me know that right then, on that train,
that icy winter's night, I was supposed to be with her
for whatever reason and for however briefly. I doubt
she was any older than me which meant neither of us had
much of a clue about life or relationships. Still,
there we were players without a script in so
cramped an eco-system, fulfilling some sort of
cosmically engineered one-act play that relied on no
audience for its success.
The "nuzzle," I upgraded to a soft kiss, feeling its
effect on her immediately. She murmured something,
still with her back to me of course, before raising her
own arms which more or less clasped mine to her. I
kissed her several times; monopolizing an area of some
four square inches along her neck-line. I doubt anyone
noticed I wouldn't have cared if they did in any
event!
Completely without any expectation of rebuke, I slipped
my right hand inside her coat, no more than two or
three buttons down. The warmth on site was
considerable. My hand located what felt like quite
small breasts that at first I merely cupped
experimentally. No one could possibly have seen
anything untoward in that confined space. By now she
was noticeably pushing back on to me and making the
slightest, rather sweet little sounds as I recall, as I
grew more adventurous, beginning to fondle both girlish
mounds, wholly protected as I was as WE were - by
that woolly terrain.
The occasional sigh was now audible least to me, and
fully determined I suppose, to repel further the
boundaries of acceptable social behavior, I allowed my
fingers to inveigle their way between the buttons of
her quite obviously thin blouse.
Now it should be stated for posterity, the difference
between feeling a teenage girl's bra through her
clothes and actually being able to caress her breasts
as they nestle within their skimpy rayon crθche - is
considerable. I felt her wriggle against me as I first
encroached upon the walls of the forbidden city. The
slightest of gasps emanated from her lips as my fingers
breached the dyke, slipping inside that soft protector,
actually making contact with her breast itself, daring
eventually to manipulate even, what was probably a
fully erect nipple.
Throughout this protracted engagement, my lips had
maintained almost unbroken contact with the girl's
neck. Had we not been wedged so securely between the
seat compartments, I doubt either of us could have
remained upright. Not that any of this was occupying my
thought processes I have to say. Between nuzzling her
and fondling those hot little breasts as so surely I
was, there was little room left for deductive
reasoning.
Whether simply a case of my "making hay while the sun
shines," or the girl was impelled by forces outside of
even her control, but it seemed to me right then, that
her body language was urging me on to even greater
daring. Not by the spoken word of course we had not
exchanged so much as a "hello," simply the way she was
pressing herself up against me.
Working undercover as it were, I tunneled south across
that flat abdomen and down what appeared to be a
pleated skirt. Reaching the hem, I slipped my hand
between her knees and felt my way higher until I
reached some remarkably warm areas. Never having felt-
up a girl in this fashion, I was probably short on
finesse although I didn't hear too many complaints.
At the point I found my palm flush up against the apex
of the girl's slim legs I sensed a definite
acquiescence and was in no need of a training manual to
prompt my next move. Pushing beneath the wasitband of
her tight panties, the sensation of parting her pubic
curls was much to my liking - hers too, if one were to
judge by the slightest of sighs audible in that
confined space. Such were upgraded to definitive gasps
of either surprise or pleasure - I couldn't tell which
- when my fingers located the real prize just a few
inches lower.
Such heat I had not encountered before. Probing her
(most likely virginal) pussy the full length of that
sexy little slit, I soon discovered that one area in
particular, seemed to up the wriggling factor. Having
little or no experience in the biological functionality
of a girl's vaginal cavern, it proved to be a work-
experience program I just knew I was going to enjoy
from the outset. Multiple descents and ascents later I
was able to pinpoint that slightly prominent "nub" with
ease. Seemed to me the more attention I bequeathed it,
the better its owner responded.
This state of shared Nirvana might have been
perpetuated had I not noticed the girl's body tensing
suddenly. Holding her tightly, I undertook one final
incursion which brought about a series of body-shakes
which in other circumstances might have rated high on
the Richter Scale. Clasping my hand against her, she
felt like she was about to purr. I was aware that my
fingers were sudenly a whole lot wetter than they had
been just moments earlier.
Soon afterwards, the train began to slow up, coming
into 'Falconwood' station, she delicately withdrew my
hand from her panties and just for a moment, half-
turned towards me, suficiently that I could notice the
deep flush resident there. I had determined that I
would at the very least introduce myself, neither of us
having uttered a solitary word since boarding at
'Charing Cross.'
As the train pulled in, I had been about to open the
conversation something along those lines was more
than called for I felt. To my everlasting misery
however she reached up and retrieved a shopping bag
from the rack beside us, simply glancing back at me
with the sweetest smile on her face. Leaving me
standing there, completely heartbroken, she made her
way with several other passengers to the open door. The
last I saw of her as the train gathered speed, she was
walking along the crowded platform to the ticket
office.
She never even looked back.
© Peter_Pan 2007
Please visit "The World of Peter_Pan"
http://www.geocities.com/phrenetic_ice/wopp.html
Another very popular Christmas tale: "When What to My
Wondering Eyes Should Appear?" can be found in the
published Anthology "Imagine For A Moment"
http://www.lulu.com/content/69187
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 54