Homecoming Part2
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Finally Home, Part 2 free porn video
«More??»
That’s what the note said. I slumped back into my seat. This was just one of the notes she had written before. She must have dropped it when she hurried to pick up her things and leave.
More?? Yes, please. But she was gone, and this was a big train. No point in trying to find her, especially if she didn’t want to be found. It was a fun game, but now it was over. Let it go.
I closed my eyes. More??
My heart jumped and my eyes sprang open. I stared at the note again.
“More??” This wasn’t the note she had written before. There were two question marks on this one. There had only been one on the other, when she had asked me if I wanted her to continue, to finish me off. Just one, I was sure of it. This was a new note, she had left another one for me.
The game was still on.
And now?
I got up and looked around. Where would I go? Towards the front of the train, or the back? Where had she gone? And what, exactly, did she want me to do?
Find her? Wait for her here? Or was it just a bad joke, to keep me hanging forever?
The woman with the little girl in her lap, sized me up with an irate look in her eyes.
Lady, I thought, if you only knew.
Then behind her, by the door leading out of this car and into the one behind it, I saw a piece of paper on the floor. Maybe another note? I rushed over there and picked it up. This one was crumbled, not folded like the other one. But it was the exact same kind, wasn’t it? Only… it was blank. No new message.
And still…
I walked through the doors. This car was completely empty, several of the fluorescent lights flickering badly. I walked straight through and found another crumpled piece of paper by the door at the end. No message, but now there was no doubt. She had left a trail of breadcrumbs for me. A yellow brick road to follow.
In the next car, there was a teenage kid sitting with a laptop and oversized earphones. And an old woman reading a book. And another piece of paper.
Through the next two or three cars I didn’t even bother to notice the people there. Just rushed through and picked up the pieces of paper on the way.
Then I reached the restaurant car, which was just a bar with fancy looking stools surrounding it. I had to wriggle my way past the conductor from before to get to the end. He was leaning on the bar and seemed to be finishing up a receipt for something, even though there was no one else there.
The next car had the sleeping compartments, half a dozen doors on the right-hand side of a narrow, carpeted hallway. But at the end of it, there was no new crumbled piece of paper for me. No more breadcrumbs. For a minute, I felt like a dog chasing a rabbit, thinking I could actually catch it just before it slips into a hole in the ground and disappears forever.
The next car was the same, the doors, the hallway, and a woman in a lemon-yellow uniform, vacuuming the carpet.
“Game over, man. Game over.” The guy from whatever that movie was again, was shouting the words into my brain. Game over.
I turned around and walked back, sulking. Don’t worry, I thought. When you don’t show up, she’ll come for you.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Probably not.
But as I passed the doors to the sleeping compartments one more time, I noticed a note stuck to one of them. This was it, a note from her:
“More.”
Yes! I thought. And fuck you, pessimistic movie guy.
I walked in.
She was sitting on the bed, with her back against the wall. Her skirt and jacket were folded neatly on the opposite bed, her shoes were on the floor, she had her naked legs crossed and stretched out in front of her. She still had her blouse on but it was halfway unbuttoned, revealing a cleavage to die for, two perfect breasts barely kept in place by a black lace bra. And then a thong to match.
And of course, she was tapping away on her phone.
I took a step towards her, but she lifted her hand up at me, commanding me to stop. Without taking her eyes off her phone, she picked up her notepad, which was lying on the bed beside her, and threw it at me. On it, she had already written:
“Take all your clothes off. Don’t say anything. Don’t ask me anything. Do as I say.”
I undressed, and stood there naked waiting for her to tell me what to do. She kept on with her phone for another minute or so, and then she finally looked at me. She smiled cordially at me, and beckoned me over with her finger.
I walked over and stood in front of her.
She shifted position slightly, scooching to the edge of the bed so only her shoulders and the back of her head rested on the wall, and lifted her feet at me.
She let her feet play with my cock, which wasn’t fully erect yet, squeezing it, massaging it, pushing it around. Rubbing it with one foot while lifting my balls with the other.
When I eventually got rock hard again, she did that thing she had done earlier, where she took my cock between the soles of her feet and rubbed up and down. Just for a short while, and then she let her feet travel up and down my stomach and my chest, using her toes to tug at my chest hair and even pinch my nipples.
I noticed her looking for her notepad, and the displeased look in her eyes when she saw I had just thrown it on the floor, on top of my cluttered pile of clothes. But then she put her feet on my shoulders and pushed down, and I understood what she wanted.
I got down on my knees, and she put her feet in my face, massaging my face with her toes and toe balls a little before she stuck her left foot in my mouth. I sucked eagerly on her toes, licked them and ran my tongue between them. She clearly appreciated what I was doing, tilting her head back and moaning, biting her lower lip as her right foot found my cock again. Then she switched, putting her right foot in my mouth and bringing the other down to my cock, rubbing it and covering it with my own spit. I grabbed her foot with one hand and licked her sole and heel, and with my other hand I started to rub her leg and thigh up and down.
Like I said before, I could have sucked on those toes for hours, but when she put her legs behind my head and pulled my head towards her pussy, I didn’t mind at all.
I pulled her panties to the side, feeling how wet they were, pulling the string out of the crevice of her ass. She was shaved smooth, glistening with not a strand of hair anywhere, not even around her asshole. I put my mouth right on her pussy, kissing her lips all over before I stuck my tongue out and licked up and down between them. Then I went to work on her clit, puckering my lips around it and sucking, then flicking it with the tip of my tongue. She moaned louder now, and pulled my head even closer with her feet and pushed her pussy hard onto my face. I stuck my tongue in her hole, as deep as I could, and she groaned. I kept licking her until the muscles of my tongue were sore, lapping up her juices, savoring the taste and the smell of her.
My cock was aching, begging for attention. I had to grab it and jerk off a little, just to get some relief, and so I stood up and let her see what I was doing, and that I thought it was time she let me fuck her. She accepted my plea by quickly removing her panties and spreading her legs wide. I got back down on my knees but the bed was too high and my cock just pressed at the cold metal edge of it. There was a pillow on the bed, so I grabbed it and folded it and put it under my knees. Now everything was perfect, and I could guide my cock into her pussy, slowly pushing it in.
I gave her the best of what I had learned through the years, fucking her sometimes slow, sometimes fast. Sometimes stopping half way for a brief moment and then ramming my cock into her, sometimes keeping it deep in while tightening the muscles around so it throbbed inside her, and every now and then arching my back backwards so my cock rubbed against her g-spot.
She bent her right knee and grabbed her foot with both hands, pulling it to her mouth so she could lick her own toes and put them in her mouth. As she did this, her abs and the muscles inside her pussy tightened, gripping my cock. She sucked fervently on her big toe, then licked and kissed her foot passionately, all the while staring into my eyes, her glasses fogging up.
Then she put one hand on her pussy and started to rub her clit fast. When she came, she squealed, still with her foot in her mouth, biting her toe. Watching her like that, it took all my strength and willpower not to come inside her, and I had to stop fucking her and keep still as her entire body shook. And then, when her orgasm subsided and her body relaxed, she pulled away from me, sat up, gripped my cock as I stood up in front of her and started jerking me off fast.
It only took a few seconds for me to come, and when I shot my load she caught it in her hands, keeping it from hitting her face or her blouse. I watched as my sperm ran down her fingers, her hands and her arms, some of it completely covering her wedding ring.
When it was all over, she jumped up and ran into the tiny bathroom that was there and washed herself up. I practically fell down on the bed, breathing heavily. She came back smiling, stood by the bed and picked up her phone again. Standing over me like that, she took another picture of me, then seemed to text someone again.
“Don’t ask me anything,” she had written, but I had to. And, I figured, if pictures of me were a part of the conversation, I did have a right to know.
“Who are you texting?” I asked. “Your husband?”
She laughed and shook her head. She put her phone away and laid down beside me. She let me put my arm around her, and then she kissed me.
“Just a friend,” she whispered with her lips to mine, and soon we both fell asleep.
I woke up as the sunlight came in through the window and I heard the brakes as the train slowed down. I climbed over her, waking her up, and looked out.
“This is where I get off,” I said.
“Okay.”
“You?”
She shook her head. I dressed quickly, knowing I only had a few minutes to get back to my seat and gather my things before the train started off again.
“Can I… uhm…” I said.
She pointed at her notepad on the floor. I picked it up and handed it to her, but she shook her head again.
“No, no. Give me yours.”
I just stared at the notepad, as if I suddenly had forgotten what tool was needed for writing on it.
“I… I don’t have a pen,” I said.
Clearly amused, she left me in that desperate state for several agonizing seconds, then she reached over to her purse and pulled her pen out. I wrote down my name and my phone number, and handed it to her.
She smiled.
“I’ll text you,” she said.
Then I left her.
When I shut the door between us, I noticed the note was still stuck to it.
“More.”
I tore it off and put it in my back pocket as I walked away.
I was finally home.
But not where I wanted to be.
Tamera
- 15.09.2022
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