Ishara’s lust story – Part 1

It was a rainy day. The time was around 6 pm, and I was going home after my Advanced Level chemistry tuition class. It hadn’t rained in days, so I didn’t have an umbrella. I stayed at the class, hoping the rain would cease, but after it looked like it wouldn’t stop anytime soon, I ran all the way to the train station, which was around 200 meters from my class, not wanting to miss the train.

I was wearing a light pink blouse and denim jeans, and my blouse was now fully transparent, with my white lace bra visible through it. The station was full of people waiting for their train to come. It was really uncomfortable to stand in a see-through blouse amidst the crowd. I took my now-wet, long black hair and put it to the front, hoping to cover myself.

It took what seemed like forever as I waited for my train. As I waited, I noticed a guy taking looks at me, trying not to be noticed at the same time, but failing in his attempts. He, however, was familiar, and with a little thinking, I remembered that he was from my tuition class. The train seemed to be delayed, and after around 20 minutes later than usual, it arrived. When it did, it was so full that not even a wind could creep through inside. I had no interest in being crushed to death, but I had no option since this was the last train I could take to go home.

It was such a war to get into the train with all the people struggling to get in at the same time. Finally, when I got in, I had nothing to hold onto, but I was also sure as hell I wouldn’t fall because the train was that full, and I was balanced between the people around me. Although it wasn’t a pleasant feeling to be sandwiched between men of all types, I was thankful that I was finally heading home. I, however, wasn’t feeling cold anymore, and my blouse was no longer wet from the rain but from my own sweat, and the sweat of those around me.

After a while of sweating and uncomfortableness, I noticed that same face again. But this time, he wasn’t trying not to be noticed. In fact, he smiled, and I, of course, didn’t react.

I’m Ishara from Sri Lanka. I’m 18 years old. I have tanned skin and long black hair, which drops below my waist. I’ve always been a very shy girl. Although my friends have always joked about hooking me up with good-looking guys in the class, I’ve never talked to one. And I’ve never had a boyfriend. Never has a man laid his hands on me.

However, it was hard not to take looks at him from time to time to see if he was still staring at me. And when once I looked where he was, he wasn’t there. And for no reason, I felt bad for not smiling back at him.

The train, however, wasn’t helping the bad day I was having. After all, it’s a train, and it kept swaying and having random breaks, which made us jump. And when this happened next, I felt someone hold my waist. I was shocked, and I turned to see none other than the guy from my class!

I know that after reading so far and my self-description, you would expect me to thrust his hand away or to shout at him. But I didn’t. Or I couldn’t. I would try to defend myself, saying it was because I was too shocked to react, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t want to. It was feeling good, and also, I was letting him do it to make up for the fact that I didn’t smile back at him. Hideous, I know. As dumb as it may sound to you, I don’t regret, and you’d agree with me too when I say what happened next.

He was behind me but slightly to my left. He bent in to my ear and asked me, “What’s your name, baby?” His lips were lingering on my neck, and his warm breath was warming up my whole body somehow. I was dumbstruck, and I couldn’t find the strength to say my name out. Having figured out I wouldn’t speak up, he bent again and asked me, “Do you recognize me?” And this time, I was able to slightly nod my head, and that was enough of an answer to him.

Not long after that, his hand slowly dropped down. Really slow. And stopped at my butt, and he groped it! In the meantime, he had now moved behind me and was holding my waist from the left. A while later, his left hand slid down, and he was groping my ass from both his hands, and man, it was heaven. Without noticing, I’d been letting out little moans, and he leaned to my ear from the right and said, “Hush, baby girl, you don’t want these people to hear you.” I blushed, and I tried my best to keep quiet.

Now that he knows I’m going to let him do whatever he pleases… Both his hands moved up to my waist… And then to my belly. He caresses me, moving his hands in circles while slowly moving up, and my heart was racing faster than a racing car. Not long after, both his hands were on my boobs. Even though I was gladly letting him take control over me, I was shocked at his courage.

If you believe me or not, as I already told you, no man has ever laid hands on me. And this… Believe me… Was feeling so damn good. My nipples erected now as he kept pressing my boobs with his hands, and in a rush, he removed the top three buttons of my shirt, as if he had lost control, and for the first time, I protested, but it was enough neither to stop him nor to slow him down.

He hugged my waist from his left hand, pushing me close to him; I could feel my shirt sticking to his, and I felt his warmth through the sweat, arousing me again. And his right hand slipped through my bra and grabbed my left boob, and this feeling gave me an electric shock. A shock that felt so good, and I pushed back to him, needing to be closer and closer to him.

He felt that I was needing more of him, and he pressed my boob slinger, and he pinched my nipple, and got me moaning again, and he had to quiet me again. And then he moved his hand from my waist and reached to the other boob and pressed them both together, caressing them in circles, and pinching my erected nipples, and he leaned to my ear again to ask, “What’s your size, naughty girl?” To which I just blushed but didn’t answer.

All this time, he was building a tent in his jeans, which he kept pushing to my butt crack, and now I pushed myself more to the back, and I slowly moved up and down on his crotch. You must be amused to read this much happening inside a train. It was the same reason I was in shock and afraid, but with time and with his touch, it all faded away, and right now, I didn’t give a damn about who was watching us or hearing us, as long as they didn’t bother to interrupt.

Then he grabbed my right hand, and the next thing I know, I’m holding his crotch, and my heart raced up to a whole new level. I groped his crotch tighter and tighter, trying to match him with his speed of pressing my boobs, but I couldn’t get enough. His dick was so hard now, and I understood that it was not only me but he wanted more than that too… His left hand dropped my boob and came down to his crotch. He unzipped his jeans, and then I felt it in my hand.

What I felt at that moment is hard to describe. I was holding his dick in my hand. For a girl who had never seen a grown-up man’s penis, I hope you don’t expect me to describe how it felt. Not to mention, I still haven’t seen his penis either. I just held it in my hand, gripping it tight, not wanting to let go, and I felt like I’m having the best adventure of my life. It was about 5-6 inches long, and it was thick, that it took my whole hand to hold it.

Then he kept his hand above mine and moved it back and forth, now making me give him a hand job. Because, as excited as I was to hold his dick, that’s all I did out of my inexperience. But however, I believe I was a quick learner, as I gave him a hand job, stroking his dick, and speeding up to my maximum, and also giving slow strokes, cause minutes later, he cummed onto my jeans. He took them onto his hands and reached my boobs, rubbing his cum all over them, and then he put a few fingers of his in my mouth, making me taste his cum. It was a bit of a bitter taste, but that didn’t stop me from licking his palm off for any that’s left.

By this time, I was getting very wet in my pussy, and I was dying for some action down there, but obviously, I wasn’t going to ask him to do it. But matching my thoughts or reading my mind, he grabbed me by my waist again, taking me closer, and his right hand slipped through my legs, and he was caressing my pussy from above my jeans and my panties. It was a thick surface to feel through, but it felt as he was having his fingers in my pants.

Suddenly, he turned me towards him, though it wasn’t easy to do with the crowd packed up. When he did, he unbuttoned my jeans and put his hand right in my panties and parted my pussy lips with his fingers, and he vibrated my cunt, moving his fingers faster and faster.

He then slowly started pushing through my pussy lips and into my pussy, slowly in and out, finger-fucking me, and I couldn’t maintain the quietness anymore, and started to moan again. And he leaned in, held my neck from his other hand, and kissed me to stop me from moaning while he was still finger-fucking me. This was the moment it felt the best, and I came, wetting his hand and my pants, and god, it felt so fucking good! He took his hand out and licked all his fingers, surprising me!

He then turned me around again, and I noticed that his penis was rock-hard again! He pushed it through my thighs and pushed my sides, signaling me to close up my legs together, which I did. And then he started pushing his dick in and out of my thighs, slowly at first, but quickly picking up his speed!

A while later, he was cumming again, and some of it hit the man to the front, and we had a little laugh, as he didn’t notice, to our luck. Some of it fell on my feet, and he took the rest and pushed up the fabric on my shirt and rubbed them on my belly.

Then he bent down to my ear, breathing on my neck, giving me tingles. He asked for my number, to which I shook my head. Then he wrote his number on a piece of paper, slid it into my bra, and buttoned my shirt again. “I have to get down, naughty girl. Call me maybe?” And I said nothing but smiled. He bit my ear slowly and then kissed my neck, and the next moment, it felt so empty because he was no more there. I turned around quickly, and I barely saw the back of his head before he disappeared.

So that’s it for this part of the story. I’m mad for the touch of this guy, but I don’t even know his name yet, and I doubt he knows mine. Would I call this guy or not? It was my first time ever, and would I be able to resist my urge to want it again and again? To feel that amazing feeling again? To find out, read part two.