i want to flirt in train,fall in lust in train,train and love,love in the train,

 

Sedusa

Sedusa is set to tease, tantalise, titillate and seducate you with some elegant erotica.

The jam-packed train stopped suddenly. She looked up from the thick tome of erotica she'd been devouring, and absently gazed out of the window only to see a couple of dogs copulating. It was one of those days - mornings roused by innuendo, afternoons heaving with sex, evenings swelling with lust and nights undulating to one night stands. She swirled her tongue around in her mouth, and tried to relive all those deliciously foreign tastes from the previous night. Nothing. It's strange how the human palate works. Conveniently relegating the past, continuously yearning for the future. Just like the human mind. And the human body.

"Why! I could write erotica," she almost declared aloud, when a velvety freshly-waxed, freshly-moisturised arm grazed hers. She gasped, and saw her own arm transform into a field of gooseflesh. She fought the temptation to look the girl in the eye, lest Ms Velvet Touch turn out to be the type that possessed a rag-mag churned out for the female bourgeoisie or wore cheap imitations. The new entrant who'd sat herself down next to her was probably the sexually superficial kind who thought that "bicurious" was a bad word. "Oh, Ms Velvet Touch, you can't imagine how bad I've been," she smirked to herself.

The silhouette sufficed. Less was indeed more. More opportunity to gently invade forbidden spaces. She slowly inched towards Ms Velvet Touch and let her elbow crook its way into her waist - slender yet slightly fleshy as expected. She felt like a depraved molester. Immediately, almost as if on cue, Ms Velvet Touch rose and hurriedly disappeared into the teeming crowd. Had she been disgusted? Offended? Or had Ms Velvet Touch been oblivious to her presence? None of the above, she soon realised, as she noticed a paper napkin with a telephone number scribbled on it curiously peeking out of her bag.