I sit down as I realize that I am now holding onto this incredible leg and as I announce my horrific humiliation at this gaffe, she whispers ‘it’s absolutely fine’ and closes her legs, her knees clamping against my hand. Slowly, she starts releasing my hand, moving her knees back and forth a bit as she eases herself forward. As my hand frees up a bit, I wiggle my fingers slightly, enjoying the new found freedom. She bends her knees slightly, causing my wiggling fingers to move up along her inner thighs. I flatten my hand out again and place my hand on her inner thigh, slowly moving my palm up and down along the soft, smooth fabric of her hose. Sliding upward the third time, my thumb hits the end of the hose. She’s wearing thigh highs and my cock jumps.Then she repositions her arms so that her coat is now draped wider, blocking me from the rest of the train. Understanding the hint, I slide my hand higher, moving my fingers along the soft flesh of her inner thigh. She buckles her. The image of Mona was in my head the entire night - and in my sleep. For the next two weeks the routine was the same. I’d come home from work and see Mona outside my window by the pool. Unable to help myself, I’d release my cock from its confines and slowly stroke it to completion. She had taken to spreading her thighs wide causing whatever fabric that was there to slip between her full lips. The first time she did this, it immediately affected me. I erupted again and again. Afterward I’d get cleaned up and go down to enjoy her company. We’d talk until she had to get ready for my son. One day, while watching her, one of her hands came up to a breast and began teasing the nipple. After a while her hand moved over to her other breast. What I had thought to be prominent nipples before, now stood very hard and swollen. The skimpy bikini now failed to cover them. Mona pushed the material aside and began playing with her breasts. I seemed to lose my ability to breath. A couple of minutes.
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