You know when you can just feel someone’s awkward energy from a mile away? Well, that’s exactly what I got about a week ago, the moment this guy stepped into my train car.

I was in one of those sets of four seats—two forward, two backward—and I’d already settled into my spot by the window. The train wasn’t packed, but most of the seats were taken, so when he came walking down the aisle, passing my seat the first time, I figured it was only a matter of time before he turned back and ended up across from me.

Sure enough, clutching a book to his chest like it was a lifeline, her turned back and approached. “Uh…excuse me,” he said, his voice soft and hesitant. He gestured to the diagonal seat across from mine. “Is this seat taken?”

I glanced up, pretending I haven't already seen him walking up and down the aisle, and smiled. The way he kept shifting his weight, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to sit down, was oddly endearing.

“Nope,” I said, moving my bag to the floor. “Go for it.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, sliding into the seat so quickly you’d think he was worried I’d change my mind. He opened his book and began to read. The book was Sphere by Michael Crichton, one of my favourites. I almost spoke to him about it, but I knew how much I hated to be bothered when I read, so I went back to my phone instead.

Before long, as is so often the case these days, I found myself on the NSFW side of reddit, leading my back against the window and browsing my favourite porn subs. As someone who loves writing little stories like this, I tell myself its research, but it wasn’t long before my panties started to feel a little tight against my pussy.

That’s when I noticed that my new train companion wasn’t actually reading. Or, at least, he was struggling to focus. His eyes kept darting up, glancing at me for a split second before snapping back to the pages.

When I looked down at myself, I understood why.

Subconsciously, without realising it, my legs had opened slightly, revealing my pasty white inner thighs to him. For a moment I was embarrassed, but then, feeling the heat of the images and gifs I had just been looking at, I came up with a new plan, and instead of snapping my legs closed, I crossed and uncrossed my legs, nice and slowly, the hem of my skirt inching up just enough to reveal a little more of my bare thighs.

Any higher and he would definitely be able to see the edge of my panties. Maybe even a little of my pussy…

The thought was exhilarating to me. I pretended not to notice the way his hands fidgeted on his book, the extra glances he was taking over the pages. Instead, I stared down at my phone, watching a gif of a large and beautiful cock being driven between a pair of oiled tits. It was making me want to push myself further…

I let out a soft sigh, pretending to adjust my posture, arching my back just enough to push my chest forward. My top was fitted—no bra underneath—and I knew the curve of my breasts was impossible to miss. The fabric clung to me, outlining everything, and the AC in the car wasn’t helping the situation. My nipples were already hard, pressing faintly against the material.

I could feel his tension from across me, and I wondered how hard his cock was right now. It was written all over him—the way his grip tightened on the book, the way he shifted in his seat. I shifted again, leaning forward slightly this time, my skirt riding up further, revealing the barest hint of my ass.

My skirt was high now. Very high.

I wondered if he could see how wet I was.

I scrolled on my phone, the images continuing to come to me; a woman in a full fishnet with her legs spread and her fingers busy; a large-chested milf with lush rosy red lips pressed against the tip of a cock; a tight-bodied college girl humping a pillow and making an ahegao face.

I wondered if he would be able to hold it together if he knew I was gooning to porn right now.

It was time to take things a step further.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a small blanket I’d brought along—something light and soft for these long trips. I unfolded it slowly, draping it over my lap with deliberate care. The motion made my skirt ride up again, just for a moment, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.

I adjusted the blanket, smoothing it over my lap, and then slid my hands beneath it. My heart raced as I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my panties, tugging them down inch by inch. The fabric slid over my thighs, and I raised my hips just enough to pull them free.

Though my new friend kept his gaze locked on his book, I knew he could see what I was doing.

And I wanted him to see.

I slid my panties free, the soft fabric brushing over my thighs as I pulled them out from under the blanket. Instead of tucking them away discreetly, I balled them up in my hand right there in plain view, holding them just long enough to ensure he saw. My heart raced, a mix of exhilaration and wicked satisfaction coursing through me. The idea that he knew what I’d just done—that I was sitting here now completely bare beneath the blanket—made my skin tingle. I felt the cool air from the train’s vents against my exposed skin, and it sent a shiver through me, heightening my awareness of just how naked I was.

With deliberate slowness, I opened my handbag and tucked the panties inside, my fingers lingering on the zipper as I closed it with an audible click. I leaned back in my seat, opening my legs beneath the blanket.

The train rocked again, and I let out a soft, contented sigh, as if I were just getting comfortable. But I knew he wasn’t. Not anymore.

For him, it was going to be a long ride.