A story from a few years ago about my ex-FWB Jasmine
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We sat next to each other on the train, the light gradually dimming as the sun set.
We hadn’t been able to keep our hands off each other all day as we walked through the city with our fingers intertwined, lips locked and bodies pressed against each other almost constantly.
She was sat on my lap, her body resting against mine as we kissed. Her soft, supple lips felt divine. My right hand slipped up her back and started to lightly pull at her hair.
I was growing hard and she could feel me through my jeans. She smirked and started to stroke me through the fabric. Her fingers wrapped around the width, sliding up and down, drawing a soft moan out of my lips.
I pulled her closer so I could whisper in her ear.
“Naughty girl,” I said with a soft growl. “But two can play at that game.”
My left hand drifted below her dress and started to work up her thigh, my fingers lightly digging in to her skin. I reached her panties, a white, thong, and started to stroke her through them.