Collaborative sex stories let us write the plot together
(Her Secret Fantasy, continued by psspss...)
The following weekend, you two are on board a train across the country. It’s a beautiful spring evening. Rachel is dressed in a tight little black frock that barely covers her ass, and shows off her cleavage up top. On her slim, supple legs, she has on tight white stockings and high heels. Her hair is left wild and open, and she’s wearing a light goth makeup. Her perfume is floral and primal. Anyone who sees her will think that she’s a slut. She knows it. And she loves it.
She sits opposite you in the carriage and you have a hard time keeping your eyes to yourself. While the carriage is still empty, she says, “Remember, Ross, act like you don’t know me. Okay?”
You nod yes.
Rachel beams and says, “Good, I just want you to watch… at first.”
She winks at you and just then, a big guy dressed in a suit enters the carriage. He clearly notices your girlfriend and takes a seat next to her — right up next to her. You open your book and pretend to read, while keeping an eye on them.
The guy tries to make small talk with her, “Long ride ahead, huh?” His fingers drum against his thigh, creeping closer to the hem of her dress. She gives him a cold smile and turns back to her phone. You know what she’s doing, the little minx. She doesn’t want to make it easy for him. She wants him — no, needs him — to force his way through. You had no idea she was such a freak. You notice that her bare thigh is pressed against his, even though she didn’t answer his question. It's probably driving the guy crazy.
The train lurches slightly as it turns and the guy uses this opportunity to cop a feel. He sways way too much and lets his hand land high on her bare, soft thigh. She shoots him a brief look of annoyance before returning to her phone, but crucially — doesn’t his hand or pull away. The guy briefly retracts his fingers, but then places them back where they were in her lap.
The man’s fingers twitch against Rachel's thigh like a spider testing its web. When she still doesn’t react beyond a sharp exhale through her nose, his palm flattens against her skin, sliding higher — slow, deliberate. She lets him generously feel up her inner thigh before crossing her legs, and forcing him to take his hand back.
Then he leans across her, pretending to look out the window while actually sniffing her perfume and catching an eyeful of her chest. “Got a good look?” your girlfriend hisses at him, before returning her gaze to her phone, muttering “creep” under her breath.
“Slut,” he replies huskily.
Rachel turns to face him, glaring but also pressing her thigh against him. “What the fuck did you say?,” she says, looking right up into his eyes.
He doesn’t look away. “I said—,” he leans in, his lips almost touching her ear, “—you’re a fucking slut.” Her breath hitches as his hand clamps down on her breast. “Only a slut dresses like this,” he growls, kneading her flesh through the thin fabric, “only a slut lets strangers touch her.” He then looks at you and says, “Isn’t that right, my man?”
You look up from your book to see Rachel swat his hand away, and protest, “Stop touching me! And leave this guy out of it… this is between you and me!”
The man looks stunned for a second — but when she doesn’t say anything more, he grins. He knows the game. He leans closer, his breath hot on her ear. “But you don’t really want me to stop, do you?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she asks him, her voice a little angry but a little cracked, lacking conviction. The man reaches right up her little frock and grabs her pussy, making her moan in what can only be described as ecstacy. He pulls his hand out and holds it up in front of her. “See?” he says with a grin, “your panties are soaking wet. Slut.” Rachel doesn’t say anything, but continues to breathe deeply while staring up at him with a look of arousal and indignation.
“So what?,” she challenges him, “what if I’m a slut? What are you gonna do about it, huh?”
He starts feeling her up again — letting his hand move up her thigh to her tits and then her neck. “I’m going to make you my slut,” he says, before diving in to kiss her hungrily. You watch as he squeezes her ass cheeks while smooching her, and she only pretends to fight back weakly while kissing him back. When they break the kiss, he turns to you and says, “Maybe you should leave, dude.”
Your girlfriend answers for you, “Oh he’s going to stay… he’s my boyfriend after all. And he wants to watch.”
He laughs and says, “For real? Like a cuck or something?”
Your girlfriend stands up, taking her panties off while saying, “I guess that’s right, isn’t it, Ross? You’re a cuck. You want to watch your slut girlfriend be fucked by a real man, hm? Go on, admit it.” She tosses her wet panties on your face before sitting down on the man’s lap, grinding against him.
“Ready to watch this stranger ruin me, beta boy?” she asks you.
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