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Story Info

Posting Date 2010-04-11 08:49:04
Author zibbi67
Title fingered by stranger on undergound
Category had sex in a crazy/funny place
Where it happend Paris
Age then 14
Age now 17
Gender FEMALE
Viewed 675
Story Length 713
Status
Rating

(39 votes / 314 points)

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fingered by stranger on undergound

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This is a story of my sexual awakening. When I was 14, I went to stay for the summer with my uncle and aunt in Paris, France. It was an opportunity for me to improve my French and take art classes. I was to go to a French tutor for one hour each day and then after that, there was an art class, each day after lunch for 2 hours. The rest of the day, 'til evening, was spent with my cousins. I had some money each day to buy lunch on the way to art class with a little spending money too. The French class was pretty boring, but, I admit, I learned things each day that I could use and, being a good student, would use the new words or conjugations throughout the day/week.

Anyway…things first started happening on the subway between French class on Blvd Barbès and where I got off for lunch, near the Arc De Triomphe. It was my first week. The subway was busy. I was standing with my big bag of books and art, holding on to the bar with my other hand, when I felt a hand on my lower inner thigh. I was wearing a plaid short skirt. I jerked instinctively, but didn’t move away right away, thinking it a mistake. The hand remained there and then started moving in circular motions climbing upwards. I shuffled forwards, away, but couldn’t go far, since there were too many people on the subway. The hand left when I moved. I looked over my shoulder and there was a man, maybe 30, reading a paper. He was a nice looking man. It must have been him. The hand returned. “Arrêt!” I hissed. But he just said, “Excusez-moi, madamoiselle,” and looked annoyed. People were looking now. I was sure it was him. A couple minutes later I felt the fingertips touch my inner upper thigh, up my skirt. I looked back, but he was engrossed in his book. I looked around. It had to be him. That was all the first time.

I didn’t see him again for a few days but I thought about the incident a lot. I would sway between fear of being raped and maybe murdered by him to masterbating furiously at night imagining him fondling me freely as I rode the subway. You probably see where this is going… I didn’t at the time, although, I sort of subconsciously had taken to standing, even if there was a seat available. The next time I encountered him, I saw him getting on the subway with me. I went and stood and he sat near me. As the subway got more crowded, I made way for people, and not sub-consciously – little hussy wanting to be touched – ended up standing with my back to him, my butt maybe a foot from his face. It must have taken him an agonizing 5 minutes before his hands slid over my inner knee and slowly climbed. I remained motionless – my eyes closed. His touch became a bit firmer and firmer until he was kneading my thigh, his fingertips brushing my virgin pussy through my panties. Soon after he was concentrating on between my legs, his fingertips gliding from the front of my vagina back and forth, right over my bum crack, touching my bum, gently pinching my pussy lips. It was heavenly. In the distance I heard “Arc De Triomphe”. I left without looking.

This was repeated a few times and then one day I slipped into a washroom before getting on and removed my panties. He was waiting on the platform for me. After the preliminaries he was sliding well lubed fingers up and down my groove, pushing into my vagina slightly, fingering my anus. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. People must have noticed something. I could smell the fresh – sliced potato odour wafting up from my soaked pussy and could hear the occasional faint squishy noise. My attention was soon drawn elsewhere when I gained the attention of another man – my Tue and Thur French tutor. I had a woman Mon, Wed, Fri and a man Tue Thur – but that’s, as they say, another story.


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