Last train to cumsvile

Last train to cumsvile

Alcohol has always been a problem for me. Or rather the problem’s not the alcohol it’s the person I am when I drink the stuff.

Last night I went out with friends in central London. We had some dinner and some drinks. I got very drunk and then I took the last train home. I’d forgotten my headphones and I had nothing to read and my phone was on about to die so I was pretty bored. I got talking to a guy who was waiting for the same train as me. I don’t really remember how we got talking – I can’t remember exactly where I met him. I know it was at the train station as I vaguely remember arriving then it’s a blank and then I’m walking toward the train with him.

He was stocky white guy with dark hair but a lot of greys in it. About 45 I think and wearing a smart suit. I think his name was Greg or Gary or something with a G or a J… maybe Jamie. I can’t remember, I’m going to call him Greg since that’s the one that seems most right.

We sat next to each other and chatted. By the second stop we were basically alone in the carriage. Greg leaned in and kissed me. I kissed him back. We were both drunk. His tongue was in my mouth and his hands found my thighs then quickly went exploring. One stopped at my waist the other found my boob. I didn’t object, not even when that hand slipped under my dress and hooked the strap of my dress and bra off my shoulder. I was stroking his face, our lips still locked, when his hand slid between my skin and clothes cupping my breast.

I climbed on top of him, kneeling across his lap our kiss hardly broken as we changed positions. I felt the zip on my back being pulled down then I wriggled my way out of the top half of the yellow flowery summer dress I was wearing and allowed him to pull my bra down leaving me topless.

He buried his head in my boobs, one hand on my waist the other slipped between us, into my knickers and then into me. It felt so good – I’m not even sure what I was doing at this point. I knew that in a few minutes he was going to fuck me. Something in the back of my mind – maybe some part of sober Emily – told me I mustn’t let that happen. Drunk Emily wanted him badly though.

Greg lifted me just enough to half sit, half lay me on the seat opposite. He was on his knees between my legs. My knickers were off me before my drunken mind even realised he was pulling them. Greg’s face was between my legs, his tongue found me almost instantly. OH MY GOD it felt so good having this stranger older guy I just met eat me out in public. I so wanted him to finish, to make me cum, but I knew if he did his dick would be inside me before I’d come to my senses. I had to stop it – sober Emily had to get back some control from her drunk self.

I pushed Greg away. Some how I ended up kneeling on the floor with him. I kissed him. Pushing my tongue into his mouth this time, exploring him and tasting myself on him. I tugged at his trousers, got them open and slipped my hand inside his boxers to his hard cock. “I want to suck it,” I told him eagerly. Greg was back on his seat with his dick out before I’d finished speaking. I took his dick in my mouth, sucking it, licking it, pretending it was the tastiest lollipop in the world.

It wasn’t long before my mouth was filling with bitter, salty cum. It felt like I’d turned a tap on – he just kept cumming. I felt like I was swallowing mouthful after mouthful, guzzling it down like soda. Finally he finished and I congratulated myself at some how not spilling a drop.

I pulled my bra and dress back on just in time for my stop. Greg stayed on the train. We kissed goodbye and a moment later I was on the platform, Greg was staring at his phone as the train pulled past me – he didn’t bother looking up.

Walking home through the dark empty streets I cried. I did’t know what I’d just given some random guy a blow job – I still don’t. I don’t know why I get in that state when I’m drunk. It’s like if a man looks at me when I’m in that state I’m his – it doesn’t even cross my mind not to do anything. It’s like I lose all sense.

I got home to find Richard still up even though it was now 1.30am. He was watching a film in the lounge with the lights off just wearing the shorts he sleeps in. If my eyes were still red he couldn’t see them. I didn’t speak, just dropped my bag and walked to him. I’d been thinking all the way home about how I cheated on him, how I shouldn’t have done it, how I ruin good things by being such a bad person. I couldn’t do anything about those things but I could at least make sure that Richard, not Greg, was the last man’s dick I had in my mouth.

I knelt down, pulled his cock out through the leg on his baggy cotton shorts and sucked that thing for all I was worth. I took it as deep as I could – right into my throat, letting myself choke on it a little til I coughed and had to take it out. I have to admit I hate deep throating a cock, it’s difficult, uncomfortable and leaves me with a sore throat the next day. I did it though so I’d have an excuse for my red eyes – now they weren’t red because I’d been crying, the were red because I’d been choking on his cock.

Richard seemed to like it, it wasn’t long before I was once again slurping down cum. Only this time it was the right guy’s cum.

We cuddled for a bit then I went up to bed while Richard watched his film.

I still feel really shitty about what I did.