The Train to Paradise

Commanders of Love

Our hero uses his special powers to help a fellow commuter to fulfill her deep desires:

"she slipped off her shoe and placed her right foot on the seat, her knee pointing at the tunnel ceiling through which the train was traveling. And there was her crotch I all its glory, still sheltered by her demure, white panties. "How does it look?" she asked.

I smiled at her. "Well, so far, I think it's great," I said. And it was. The fabric of her panties was drawn tight. At the hem, there was a sparse twist of gold peeking from beneath. I caught my breath.

"So far?" she said. "Do you like it?"

"Of course," I said. "But I still haven't seen it."

She looked down at her panties and was thoughtful a moment. "I see what you mean," she said. "You know, I haven't looked at it In a while." She looked back at me. "Want to check it out?"

"Yes, I do," I said.

"Me, too!" She hooked a finger under the hem of one leg hole. As though drawing a curtain, she pulled the tight white fabric of her panties to one side. I think I gasped. She looked up with a smile. "You like it?"

For a moment, I was speechless. 

It was nothing less than glorious.

"It's gorgeous," I said. "Can I look at it more closely." (Always give them the choice. I've had a few who went no further than this. It was still a triumph.)

She nodded. "Uh huh."

I slid across and sat opposite her in her cluster of seats. "Why don't you put your other foot up on the seat," I said.

"Okay." She pulled her other leg up. She frowned a moment, then put her feet back on the floor. I prepared myself to be disappointed. But she reached under her skirt and slid her panties down and off. She held them up to me. "You want these?"

I took them. "Thanks!" I put them in the inside pocket of my sports coat.

She giggled. Then she drew both knees up until her feet were on the seat. "Oh my," I breathed. 

She noticed what I was doing and giggled. "You like it?"

"It's beautiful," I said.

"It is pretty," she said. "I like it!"