She wore shirts and pastel colours from the mums’ range, but they looked expensive. I wanted to tell her I lusted after her. I wanted her to imagine...the packed train and me choosing her. I wanted her to blush and lubricate her pussy becoming moist to the thought of me wanting her. I then wanted her to accept that she needed the same, apart for sex she needed to be fucked, she wanted the excitement from her teenage years. My mind raced and I could feel my cock swell in my trousers, the material. She turned and smiled at me and then gave me a long deep kiss."I think that was good payment" she smiled."Oh yeah" I replied.I then put my cock away and she lowered her dress again with my cum dribbling slowly out from her pussy and down those shapely tanned legs and we said our goodbyes and I left.A couple of minutes later I arrived back home, my wife was sitting awkwardly on the sofa."You alright?" I asked"My ass hurts" she replied back."I'm not surprised" I smiled."So where have you been?". I went upstairs and sat at my laptop and was cruising the internet for about forty-five minutes when I heard a knock at my open door, Chris stood there. "I know this is a no go, but dork you don't happen to have any Kona weed do you?"My friend Pete's older brother once sold me some Kona and I keep it ready for the future, in a pipe pouch in a small humidor I had hidden in my closet. "Yeah I do, but it is not for sale."Chris was pretty wasted already and must have smoked all she had and this was. At least it was the end of my shift—one last round trip, and I'll go home. There, I'll connect to Grindr, find the first bottom willing to get fucked, and I'll release all the stress of my day in his ass.Yes, that sounded like a great plan.“Sir, is this train going to Orly?” No, of course not, the announcement was just a joke. “Yes, madam, we’ll be there in forty minutes,” I answered to the blonde tourist, ridiculous with her Eiffel Tower keychain and her I love Paris tee-shirt. Yes, we.