This was my first visit to London. I was with my girlfriend and her annoying chatterbox friend Cindy. The two of them had a genius idea to take the train everywhere. We boarded the train at Holland Park, heading back towards London. Erin, my girlfriend, and Cindy are buried in their map. As we pass a seat, I notice a woman, well, her breast. Her white blouse was fairly unbuttoned, and as I passed, my eyes wandered. Straight down her top to her breast. She's not wearing a bra. I notice her little pink nipples showing on her perfect breast inside her open blouse.

"Let's sit here," I said to the girls as I dropped into the seat across from her. The girls don't bother to argue. I don't think they even noticed there was someone across from us. The train departs, and I must concentrate on the city as we pass. I didn't want to get caught looking. I peek at the girls and the map every few seconds, using the motion to hide my gaze. I can't help but imagine those nipples in my mouth, hearing her moans as I tease them. My pants begin to bulge.

"Hey Jack, you wanna go to the museum," Cindy asks, naming the place, but I'm not listening.

"Yeah, sure," I answer to whatever she asks. Did the woman across from me smile? I see her nipples are solidly erect. It isn't cold here as I search the horizon for nothing. Nonchalantly, I cover my growing tent with my hands.

The woman pulls out a book, her legs uncrossing and crossing again. The side of her skirt opposite Erin now has a slit showing her leg up to her beautiful thigh. It's beginning to get hot. I try harder to ignore her and the increasing bulge in my pants.

She shifts her weight, and her legs uncrossed. I can see deep into her skirt, but I'm just shy of seeing her panties. I'm starting to sweat a little. My hand covers my raging erection. I shift, and the motion feels so good against my head. I almost gasp. I recheck the girls; they're not paying attention.

I look back, and her legs spread just slightly more. I can almost imagine the panties now, my mind fabricating black lace panties on this poor, unsuspecting woman. I can feel just a bit of precum dripping from the tip down my shaft. My finger rubs slightly at the tip, begging to be released.

She turns the page in her book. Her legs spread just a bit more. Before life, the glorious shaved pussy of a London woman. I look away, feeling dirty and hot at the same time. In the mirror reflection of the train window, our eyes lock. I snap away and look over Erin's shoulder at the map.

I couldn't care less about it or anything else. My eyes return to the gloriously tight package in front of me. She lets out a deep breath, and I notice the slit of her pussy moisten. Little drops are dripping onto her skirt. I realize if I touch my cock anymore, I may cum. I need a distraction.

I look at her book, thinking I can start a conversation. The book is upside down. She turns another page. This bitch is having a go with me! Instead of rage, my arousal increases a thousandfold.

My cock fights the restraints of my slacks. I look down, and a small wet spot has formed.

"Yep, our stop," Erin answers a question I have never heard Cindy ask. I get up, not shielding my unmistakable erection, and walk off the train. The doors shut behind me, and I look back. She's smiling out the window.

Think fast, Jack! I follow the girls, lost as to what to do. Then I see my salvation, a taxi cab. I begin to pat my back pockets repeatedly.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I yell in desperation.

"What's wrong, baby?" Erin asks as Cindy stares at me.

"I dropped my wallet on the train," I reply, my plan coming into action.

"Seriously?" Cindy asks, annoyed.

"Yea fucking seriously. My money is in there," I say. "Erin, spot me twenty, and I'll have the cabby take me to the next stop. Hurry, though. I'll meet you at the museum." I rattle off, taking the cash she pulls from her purse. I hop into the cab.

"Next station that train stops at," I yell. "If ya beat it, I'll give you the whole twenty," I add.

"Forget something?" The cab asked, tearing out of the parking lot. I don't even answer. He cruises to the next stop, and I toss him the bill. I run to the train just as it departs, Fuck!

Then I see her sitting on the bench. The train leaves, and she watches those who get off the train leave. She looks around, then reaches down. Through the fabric of her skirt, she teases herself. Barely a minute passes as I watch, and she stiffens in orgasm.

She looks around, still not noticing me. Another train approaches, and she stands up. I follow her aboard. I feel like a stalker. I don't care. I try to position myself to see her better. Finally, I get glimpses of her exposed breast, her chest still heaving.

I follow her into the first pub we see. She orders a large glass of wine and downs it in one large gulp. I order a beer and ignore it. She is pretty worked up. Setting the glass down and standing, I notice her skirt is soaked. She must have come a lot. I follow her out.

Every bit of this seems unreal. I feel like a stalker, a predator. I am a little scared of how I'm acting. It's not long, and we reach what I assume is her home. I stand outside.

Pacing back and forth and back again, I make up my mind to knock. I reach the door, raise my hand, and let it fall. What if she isn't alone? I begin to pace again. Minutes that feel like years go by. I just want to leave; I'm an idiot. Standing before some stranger's door, what's wrong with me? I turn to go and think what the fuck. I knock before the thoughtfully leaves my mind. I hesitated, wondering what I was doing again. The door opens, and there you are, standing before me.