The following erotic fiction is the 2nd place winner in the LELO Erotica Writing Competition. Weaving themes of submission and anonymous sex, this story from author Jo Benfield is sure to inspire fantasy on your next train ride!
Two years, five weeks and three days. That was precisely how long it had been since she had last seen those eyes. She had only known him for a matter of minutes, but every second was imprinted upon her brain as though she had been branded. She felt hot needles of desire sear through her now as she looked across the train carriage to where he was gazing out of the window, unaware of her presence.
The memories of that night came tumbling back into her mind in technicolour. Her Master had bathed her and dried her, then bound her gently, wrists behind her back. She could see her naked reflection in the mirror, large breasts, trim waist and ample hips, her chestnut curls partially covering her face.
As he trailed his fingers over her nipples, fear and anticipation coursed through her.
‘You look beautiful like that’, he said softly. ‘I’m going to leave you now.’ Longing and desire flooded through her. She wanted him so badly, but knew that this time she could not have him. Instead, she would live out her deepest fantasy.
She heard the doorbell ring and held her breath, straining to listen. Hearing the front door open, she could just about discern two male voices. Then a set of footsteps came slowly up the stairs and the door creaked open. Painfully aware of her nakedness and vulnerability, she felt adrenaline course through her. Her Master had warned her that she should not look at the stranger, but she could not stop herself from stealing the briefest of glances. His piercing blue eyes took her breath away. She screwed her eyes tight shut to stop herself from staring but his face was already imprinted upon her mind. For a moment there was just stillness. The stranger was standing so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek and smell his musky scent. As she longed for him to touch her, arousal slowly replaced her fear. It was only a matter of seconds before there was the gentlest brush of his fingertips against her nipple and, catching her breath, she found herself leaning in towards him, wanting more.
Catching her off guard, he pushed her gently back against the bed. Parting her legs, he knelt down and gently flicked his tongue over her most sensitive part. Waves of pleasure began to pulsate through her body.
Moving his attention to her lips, he gently parted them with his tongue and began to taste her, prompting moans of desire.
His soft, confident movements elicited a spontaneous response from her body, as she pushed her warm, wet pussy towards him. Spreading her legs wider, she implored him to enter her. She did not have to wait long; seconds later, she felt his hard penis pushing against her, easing its way in with little resistance from her body. His movements were slow and sensual. With each thrust, she felt her body shudder, responding to the sheer eroticism of fulfilling her fantasy of making love to a complete stranger. For both of them, it seemed, the passion was too great to resist; his thrusts became more urgent and it was just moments before they were both climaxing, giving themselves entirely to the sheer pleasure of that moment.
But, seconds later, before she could even catch her breath, he was gone. Her disappointment was palpable; to experience such intense pleasure, and yet know that it would not be repeated, was crushing. She knew that, however much she might beg, her Master would respect her original intentions and never tell her who the stranger was.
She had replayed that night so many times in the past two years, cursing herself for not asking him his name. Slowly making her way through the train carriage, she offered a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of fate. 