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Welcome to our "smut" library. Here you will find various information articles and exciting stories dedicated to voyeurism. We welcome erotic fiction from our visitors. Notice that we add points to authors for every story we publish.

Final Train (15 April 2011)

It was late; the rain tumbled across the sky, occasionally rent with a flash of distant lightning. The station was deserted, water cascading from the full guttering, splashing onto the platform in great torrents, the air crackled with thunder and the distant sound of alarms. And it was very late; the last train is always late.

He cursed, walking along the platform trying to keep his cigarette alight, it's length marred by errant raindrops that the wind blew under the creaking canopy. Glancing down to his watch he noticed the time: "How fucking long is this going to be?" He swore under his breath. On days like this he cursed his lack of a car. Pulling his jacket tighter around him, he gave up on his indignation for a moment and just stared up at the sky, the lightning illuminating the falling raindrops every so often as they fell towards the desolate station.

Finally, he sighed as the lights of the train pulled into view it creeping along the line, the occasional bright blue spark blistering from beneath it, the rumble intensifying as it drew closer. Opening the door onto a deserted carriage he sat down, head lolled back against the seat for a moment before peeling off his sodden jacket draping it over the arm and reclining. Finally out of that damn storm.


It was late, she cursed herself for not taking the lift offered earlier, but the night had been too young and the wine too tempting. Shame the party hadn't lived up to it's earlier promise, it would take hours now to reach home, long frustrating hours. She sighed, pacing along the platform, watching the rain tumble down, her clothes soaked from the downpour, she smiled, thunderstorms were a fine thing, just why do I always get stuck in them, she mused to herself.

The rain cascaded over her as she walked between the occasional fragments of shelter offered by the advertising hoardings, soaking her, hair slick against scalp, clothing cloying to flesh as the material contracted, as if seeking shelter from the rain itself. She enjoyed the sensation, could never understand how people huddled under awnings in groups, resembling the last rats clinging to the final timber from a shipwreck rather than enjoying the elements.

In the distance, she could hear the low roar of the approaching train, she looked towards it approach, rain scattering off her face, lit by a sudden flash of lightning. Smiling as the train slowly halted in front of her and opening the door, sitting in the vacant seat, in the near deserted carriage. Briefly smiling at the bedraggled form of the man sitting across from her.


* * *


The man glanced up from his sodden magazine, nodding briefly, his dark hair matted against his face, shirt soaked to his flesh revealing the faint trace of muscle beneath.

"Horrid weather isn't it", He muttered in a low voice.

"I've always liked storms, something about them I can't really explain", came her reply; he turned his head obviously intrigued.

"I enjoy them myself, it's just I've never really liked sitting around dripping for the hours afterwards" he quipped, shrugging his shoulders slightly and raising the faintest of smiles.

"I don't know I've never minded being wet for hours", she laughed, "Almost makes the way home bearable don't you think?"

His eyes opened wider at her joke: "Well if you put it that way, the long hard trip home sounds considerably less of a strain." His smile broadened.

"Do you think so? I'm glad I managed to change your mind there." She grinned.

There was silence for a moment as the storm outside intensified, rain lashing against the glass, sky lighting up with the frequent bolts of lightning. Two pairs of eyes were now fixed on the window, the lightshow splendid, eyes shining with the reflection of the spectacle.

A lull came over the storm, and quiet again ruled the carriage, punctuated only by the patter of rain against the glass and metal casing.

"How was your night?" He asked, "you seem dressed for a night on the tiles." His eyes tiptoed over her formerly splendid but now rather sodden dress.

"Disappointing", she sighed, "One of those parties that starts full of promise but ends up leaving you full of wine, but standing alone on a dark station, you know the ones?"

"All too well." He replied, "Suffering from one of those myself as you can probably see." He looked down at his, dishevelled, formerly well-dressed form.

"I can see" Her eyes grazing on the site, "you'd have looked rather natty I'm sure before getting drowned." She smiled at him, "Still, no effort no reward hey?"

He smiled, "Thanks, shame I'm sodden through now, at least you look good soaked to the skin", he posed comically for a moment, "I, on the other hand, resemble a rodent with delusions of grandeur."

She laughed, "You've got a point, you know, good job I'm a rat lover then isn't it." she produced an exaggerated wink from across the carriage at him.

"Even a rat like me? I mean no tail, lacking in fur and infectious diseases? Surely not a rat like this?" He grinned and winked back. "Still, I guess I have one thing going for me," reaching into a bag and producing a bottle of wine, "I'm afraid I'm desperately ill-prepared, but I did manage to salvage something from the good ship party before she sank without a trace."

"Resourceful rodent aren't you", she smiled moving across the aisle to the seat opposite him: "don't mind if I do?" she reached across and took the bottle of wine and took a swig, decent wine too she thought. "Next time, bring some glasses, need more forethought there."

"I sincerely apologise", he smiled: "I really should think ahead I know, shameful lack of planning."

She tutted at him, "never mind I'll forgive you this once, just this once mind you" imitating a matronly voice for added effect before passing the bottle back, for him to take a swig.

He drank deeply, the cool wine livening his throat, "Well at least the parties not over just yet", he smiled, "Soundtrack's a bit repetitive though".

She laughed and reclined her legs resting on the seat beside him, "frankly this is a marked improvement on earlier, seems the whole fucking party was full of stoned wankers sitting on the floor droning on about bollocks".

"Oh for fucks sake I know the ones" his laugh joined hers, "Mine was a bunch of self important tossers blathering about their latest bonus, I'm not sure which I'd hate more." He put his own feet on the chair next to her and reclined also, "Hope you don't mind, been a long hard day."

"I'll forgive you this once", she smiled across at him; "closest to meaningful physical contact I've had all night, if you don't count accidentally kicking horizontal prone fuckers."

"Hardly meaningful that", he smirked pressing back further against the poorly cushioned back of the seat his hand inadvertently brushing against the leg next to him, "oops" came the stifled embarrassment, "make it up to you with some more wine?"

The bottle passed to her, her lips encircling the bottles top, he watched as more of the cool fluid cascaded down its tamper into her waiting mouth. Pulling the bottle from her lips she muttered, "no point removing it now is there?" Resting her own hand on his leg, "Oh dear; seems it's catching, guess I should pass the bottle back."

Taking the bottle, he noticed her hand brushing against hers in the exchange, he took a swig and returned it, hands brushing again then returning to their separate legs, fingers began to move subtly against the leg beneath, a mutual broad smile flashed between the seats.

There was a pause; eyes and smiles locked together, no sound but the drumming of rain and the steady thunder of the train as it clattered over aging rails. Then, tentatively at first, hands begin to explore, rising up their requisite legs, feeling soft yielding flesh and linen respectively, noticing muscle tone, contours, tension. Eyes not moving, even for an instant but the smiles broadening ever wider.

Wordlessly, she reached across, grabbing his belt and unbuckling it, tugging the zip down hurriedly, his eyes widened with the shock as she pulled out his rapidly swelling cock, meeting it with greedy, wine cooled lips. The cool noose formed by her lips made him shudder, a loud moan coming from his lips, his hands reaching down fingers striating across her exposed back.

She pulled her mouth away, her fingers surrounding the thick shaft of his cock and looked up, "Oops"; she smiled, enjoying the sight of shock that was written large across his face, her hand moving slowly up and down the length of his shaft. He tried to speak, but found that words simply would not form but instead came out as a low burbling moan. With a wink she again lowered her lips to the very tip of his cock and traced it with her tongue, kissing and licking playfully at it.

His body shuddered slightly, his eyes fixed on the scene in front of him, eyes blazed with lust. Again he opened his mouth to speak, but words came there none. Her eyes caught his and beamed back, glittering with entertainment at his inability to produce intelligible sound.

Then, with a wink, she lowered her head, taking him into her mouth deeply, holding him against her throat before withdrawing, taking a long stare at his erect cock then, smiling up at him. "Not bad I must say, goes well with the wine".

Shaking his head he croaked, "glad you think so" almost relieved to have rediscovered the power of speech. He reached down to her and put his hands under her arms, lifting her up, "quite the view isn't it, the storm I mean of course" he grinned and lifting himself turned them both, standing the shaking carriage towards the window, the black horizon lit up with flashing lightning.

She placed her hands on the window and muttered, "damn nice view", feeling his hands descend over the wet fabric of her ruined dress, his face trailing down her exposed back, she shivered slightly at the sensation, the tension increasing as she felt the wet material riding up the back of her thighs. His lips brushing over the now exposed flesh.

Her hands pushed against the cold glass, her body lit by the occasional flash of thunder and blue spark from the train's undercarriage. He looked up at her, kneeling behind her, eyes tracing the contours of her back, watching the way the wet fabric clung to its form. Following the swell of her hips, pale buttocks stark in contrast against the dark material. Watching the faint shiver that ran through her body making her skin tremble ever so slightly.

She felt his eyes, a palpable force on her skin, working their way over her back, down her thighs, felt his hands, warm, easing their way upwards over her skin, felt his lips, his tongue, grazing upwards, sending cool shivers striating outwards from the heat where it connected. Her fingers hooked slightly against the glass as if clawing at its smooth surface, her half reflection in the window smiling back as her.

Then, without due warning, his lips left their appointed trail, brushing between her thighs against the slick heat of her labia, tongue running its tip along their smooth, sweet surface, its tip just teasing the surface, he tasted her, savouring the richness, his nose filled with the heady musk of her attraction.

He lingered there. Browsing on the pleasures that her sex had to offer, kissing, gentle drawing the pliant flesh in between tender lips, tongue dipping and flickering across the flesh then twisting slowly over the nub of her clit, slowly turning in circles over it, feeling her shudder from the contact, feeling her pressing back against him, her excitement fuelling his.

She felt herself let out a soft moan, the pleasure of the contact excruciating, nails skittering over glass her breath growing faster, felt her hips moving against him pressing back against his bobbing head, his hair pressing against the curve of her behind, his tongue electrifying her clit, her vulva, making it feel as life itself emanated from between her thighs.

He felt her gasp more than heard it, the sound causing a raft of joy to his mind, his head moving swiftly now tongue penetrating her mystery, lips, mouth almost devouring her the stimuli was so great, no longer a cultured human being, pure animal now.

Then he felt her starting to quake, the shuddering becoming ever more intense as his face devoured her, heard her growing against the glass, felt the flesh pushing back against him ever more stridently. And then, with a muffled cry felt her satisfaction upon his mouth, the warm delirious taste of her orgasm pouring over him.

Breathless for a moment she clung to the glass, the view now obscured by the fine mist of her breath, she could feel her kisses trailing off over her as piece by piece she gathered her mind, her pounding heart slowing back to comprehensible levels. She turned arms lifting him up to a kiss, explorative rather than passionate, the taste of his mouth inseparably mixed with the flavour of her orgasm, a delicious cocktail of lust.

Smiling for a moment, she put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him down, back onto the utilitarian seat. Looking downwards she noticed his erection, still saluting her from its seat, with a wink she mounted the chair, feeling the harsh fabric against her knees, lowering her head to kiss him while she lowered her hips, feeling his manhood pressing against her, then entering a fraction, feeling herself open for the hot glans holding it there, just inside her, kissing him.

"Don't move", she whispered, "don't move at all", and slowly, very slowly started lowering herself along the length of his shaft. She felt herself engulfing its length, felt it growing inside of her as she slowly moved her hips up and down, in a steady slow motion. Eyes locked staring deep into each other's, transmitting pure lust through dilated pupils.

He tried to keep still, refusing the urge to raise his hips to meet her motion, relaxing into the heady swell of feelings that her movements caused, the slowness making the friction intoxicating, the lust in her eyes inflaming his own, making it so hard to resist the urge to act, and yet her words had had their desired effect and resist he did; for now.

Slowly she eased up and down, relishing in the sensations, the slow steady penetration, every moment slightly different, the fractional changes of position from second to second each producing a new and unique pleasure to be relished, what seemed an eternity passed with nothing but the steady motion, the rumbling underneath of the train thundering over creaky rails and the steady lashing of the storm. A perfect moment.

Lost utterly in the sensation he stared at her, the rhythm and motion a mixture of truly epicurean qualities. Feeling her sex caressing his with every motion, only enhanced by the rumbling of the train, he was utterly lost to the pleasure. And then he heard a sound, "Fuck me, fuck me now".

It was enough, grabbing her all restraint vanished in a millisecond, his hips involuntarily leapt into action thrusting upwards, his own reaction surprised him, the sudden change in momentum shocked him even more, his lips crushed to hers, his hands grabbing her back pulling them together as he felt her thrusting back, her own hips meeting his in a frenzy of activity.

She yelled, driving her hips down, feeling the sudden thrusting, his cock ramming home into her, feeling his urgency in his motion, the tight grip of his hands, the ardour of his lips.

He began to tremble, he could feel his muscles spasm under her, losing all sense of control he felt that heat between his legs as he started to climb towards his orgasm. Stuttering thrusts punctuated the build each sending a shockwave of pleasure through his hypersensitive manhood.

She felt he was close, felt her own body losing control to the animal inside, no thought, just animal motion as she plunged her body up and down onto him, gripping him back.

With a cry they came, gripping each other, bodies locked hard together, chests heaving, panting, delirious, unable to speak, unable to say even the simplest word too lost in the moment.

Smiling at one another, still locked together, their fluids mingling, pooling at their root, the warmth of it as it trailed down over flesh a slow sticky river. And then a cough, as one they turned to see the unexpected vision of a uniformed man, who simply coughed again and said:

"Tickets please".

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