Train Wreck

Watching the scenery slide by, heading back to London - the return journey from a tedious meeting with a major client. Out of town clients are a major pain in the ass - they have to be loved specially.
"So glad you came down to see us" they barbed, intimating the length of time since the last visit. 'Yeah yeah' I think, 'fucking losers, but thanks for your contribution to my monthly bonus while I sit in my ivory tower like some demented captive'

Was I sitting comfortably? No, the virus was biting, hard. My testicles and lower groin were swollen, hot and uncomfortable. The first class compartment where I was sitting was empty. A daily rag was spread on the table in front of me, my left hand had slipped irresistibly down to my crotch, the rational part of my mind subsuming to the desire to release.
My cock stiffening uncomfortably now, I gently rubbed it's head through my trousers and jocky's.. there was only one way to go from here...
The train ground to a stop at a provincial town as I hurriedly removed my hand, so lately massaging my crotch and shifted gingerly in my seat.
I hear the door slam behind me as the train restarted it's journey. A moment later the carriage door slid open and a slim dark haired woman in a business suit pushed in towing a wheeled case, which was dumped adjacent to my seat. She moved forward 3 rows to sit in front of me.

I speculated my approach - 'hello, welcome to the first class wanking compartment,I 've started , would you care to join?
She looks at me as the tip of her tongue touches the middle of her lips.
'hmmm' she breathes, 'it's just what a girl like me needs'
She wriggles her skirt over her hips and brings her finger down to the top of the strip of lace which was masquerading as her panties....

I snapped from my reverie and found it was my hand that was moving south. She had not moved but her head was lolling slumberfully and I heard the whisper of a snore reach my ears.
Must have been a good lunch...

Fighting the impulse and failing miserably, my right hand moved to her case and unzipping the top compartment revealed what she had hurriedly placed inside before her meeting; her tightly rolled pants.
Trembling now, I extract them, re zip the case and spread them out on my lap below the table.
They are black and lacy with a heavy white discharge on the piece where her pussy had pressed into. Below the white stain was a small area of dark red.
Caught short with an early period on a business trip, with Mr Panty-fetish to find them.
How wrong.....but how right....
I slipped out of my seat and locked myself into the adjoining lavatory, heart pounding, palms sweating. I released my swollen member before encasing it in her soiled undies. This was not going to take long. I unloaded my sperm into the crotch of her knickers in several hard, hurried spurts, groaning silently, the pain subsiding almost immediately. I gathered them up in my hand, adjusted myself and returned to my seat.
To my horror, the case had disappeared. Panty-miss had woken and claimed her bag while I was cumming into her pants next door. Craning my head , I noticed she has opened the side zip to remove some papers , the top zip remaining closed.
I waited. We were crawling through suburbia now, heartbeat returning to normal, her pants now squelching with my cum, held in my left hand.
As the train slowed to it's final destination, she stood and made for the door. I waited then got up and stood behind her, my left hand balled into a fist. As she reached to open the door, I spoke,
"Excuse me, I think these are yours"
As she turned, I reached and offered her the soiled evidence. She instinctively reached out and looked down, horrified as she realised the scenario that had played out as she felt the material wet through her fingers. Her mouth opened.
"You, you, you, bloody wanker! how dare you"
I smiled, agreed and moved past her into the cocooning rush hour crowd.
I did n't look back.

Asian babe & Yankee Girl, or - Don't leave your gym kit lying around

In the mid 90s I worked an evening shift at a large investment bank in the city of London. It was a very boring job but enabled me to have access to a large amount of wanking material and plenty of wanking opportunities.
Late in the evening, I would wander round the deserted trading floor, looking for gymbags. I had already worked out where the good looking girls sat and most of them worked out regularly. What they did not do was to take their kit home with them, but left them under or next to their desks. I suppose they must have rotated their clothing or simply enjoyed working out with sweaty clothes on.
While I accept rifling through people's private property is , how shall we say, unethical, my lust for sweaty female clothing overrode any qualms I had.

I had 2 favourite girls, others came and went...

The first was "asian babe" - a petite Asian 30-something. She always took the opportunity of changing her work knickers after her session, so there were 2 precious objects left in the bottom of her gym bag:- her knickers from the morning , always rolled tightly mirroring the way she had rolled them off her pussy and down her legs in the changing room. The second was her sweaty gym shorts. I would note with interest the colour & style of her panties - ranging from sensible white pants often with heavy staining, to silky, filmy g-strings.

My other favourite was a loud blond American girl of about 35 . she wore high heels in the office which were kicked under the desk when I was there and sneakers to work. Her sportware was expensive and her underwear was always tiny white rich smelling g strings.
On a typical night I would check out the contents of the bags, extract the goodies and retreat to my desk letting the anticipation build. Under my desk I would take out my already stiff cock and rub their knickers up and down it, holding it gently encased in a pair of soiled,sometimes quite dirty yankee or asian sweaty girl panties . absolute bliss!!
The Asian was not fussy at wiping herself, her pussy or her butt. Her knickers were often soiled with dark urine stains, blood and other crusty matter. All grist to my mill!
When I could hold back my sperm no longer a dilemma presented itself to me - do I cum directly into the panties or pump out my need into a kleenex held in the other hand? I tried to avoid the former too many times . . . .
All that remained was for me to calm myself down, clean up and return the item from whence extracted. I never kept them.
When I finally linked with yankee girl, after we had fucked for the first time, I told her the whole story. She loved it and used to wank me off with my cock encased in her dirtiest knickers, I once persuaded her to wear the same ones for a week including after her period started. But that my friends is another story. . . .