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Again that feeling of dislocation — was she sickening for something but now she felt something dif­ferent. Her nipples were standing and feeling, feeling like they did when Jerry (or one of her earlier boyfriends) had been a little enthusiastic in his sucking and… and most peculiarly her clit felt the same way, as if it too had recently been vigorously manipulated and she was still feeling as wet as before. But she was aroused now—how had that happened — and there was a jumble of words in her mind—and the word ‘attachment’ kept coming into her mind. The train guard was still there, ‘You’re looking a little flushed?’ ‘No, no, I’m OK really.’ But she wasn’t, certainly not how she normally felt on her morning commute into London. The train slowed and came into a station. The doors opened and stayed open. Sally knew, knew from regular travel that they had to wait for the other train to join them and it was late—again. Sally shook her head to clear it. She didn’t feel right and wondered. The sensation of her hot wet pussy walls clamping on his cock felt like nothing he’d ever experienced. Sex with his wife had been perfunctory. Missionary position with no foreplay and a cuddle afterwards. This was animalistic. Amelia was using him, wanting his cock and telling him exactly what she wanted.He locked eyes with her, her green eyes bored into him. Her lip curled as her breathing became ragged. Her breasts heaved and her fingers clawed at his back. He felt her pussy walls ripple along his cock, milking him. He tried to hold back but it was no good. His back arched and as her whimpers turned into a wailing howl, he spurted his seed into her.She sat up and smiled at him as he sank back into a chair. He watched as she slipped her knickers back on.“Right, I’m off for a bite of lunch. Can I get you anything, Augustus?”Augustus merely sat there and slowly shook his head. What kind of world had he ended up in, he wondered. He watched Amelia sashay her way out the door, top hat.
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