First Class, All the Way to Yongsan
The first-class car of the high-speed train bound for Seoul was steeped in a luxurious quiet. Alone in that wide compartment, the man let the seat cradle him and turned his eyes to the window. Summer fields slid past in the distance, throwing off a blinding green light. Every blade of grass seemed packed with life, rippling in the wind as if the whole plain were breathing. Each time the train plunged into a tunnel, his own face surfaced faintly in the glass—eyes a little tired, but sharp, and a smile creeping up at the corner of his mouth. Elbow propped on the armrest, he had been watching the countryside go by when the steady tap of heels in the corridor made him turn his head, slowly.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound beat out a rhythm like a pulse, and it caught his interest. The car door opened softly. In came an attendant with her hair pinned up neat, a snow-white blouse, and a black H-line skirt fitted close to her body. The name tag read Lee Chaeyoon, clear as print.
Her skin looked soft as milk, and the collarbones just visible above her chest cast a faint shadow. She bent deeply at the waist.
"Good day, sir. Is everything to your satisfaction?"
In that moment the tight skirt drew taut over the round of her hips and laid the perfect curve bare. From waist to backside the line narrowed until it was almost severe, then suddenly swelled full; below it, her thighs, sheathed in black stockings, looked longer and smoother still. The thin, silk-like sheen of the stockings glittered under the lights and traced the line of her legs. The man said nothing. He simply looked up at her. Chaeyoon met his gaze with a trained smile.
The smile was professional, and quietly alluring.
"Nothing was uncomfortable..."
He opened his mouth slowly. As always, a warm, soft voice and an equally soft look wrapped around Chaeyoon.
"But seeing those legs, something suddenly is."
He reached out and lightly traced the calf wrapped in her black stocking. The soft, warm knit met his fingertips, and beneath it he felt the spring of hidden skin. Chaeyoon kept her smile and nodded.
"Is it very uncomfortable? If you'd like, you may keep stroking. Until you're no longer uncomfortable, sir."
Her voice was gentle, flowing out of her almost like a song. The man smiled and slid his hand higher—from calf to knee, and on to the inside of her thigh. The slippery feel of the stocking teased his palm. The fingertips that had been gliding over her, exploring, paused for a moment between her legs.
The stocking was soft and just a little rough, and the softness beneath it welcomed his touch.
"No. The uncomfortable place is here."
He pointed at the bulge in his lap and laughed low. Inside his trousers his cock had already swollen until it stood out, obvious to anyone who looked. Chaeyoon's eyes flew wide. Understanding hit her, and a faint flush crossed her cheeks.
"Ah. I'm sorry, sir. I'll resolve that for you right away."
Heat seeped into her clear eyes, as if all of this were written in the manual under special service for first-class guests. Without hesitation she stepped into the space of his seat. He never saw how she did it, but the seatback in front of him tilted, opening the space a little wider.
For a moment the air in the car—just the two of them—seemed to turn sweet. The man drew a blanket from in front of the seat and spread it generously over his knees. It must have been meant for passengers who found the air conditioning cold.
On his lap, Chaeyoon slowly drew down his zipper and undid the button, and his already rigid cock sprang free of his underwear. Clear precum beaded at the tip of the shaft, veins standing sharp along it, and a faint salty smell spread into the air. His cock was already hot to the touch, swollen enough that he could feel the pulse in it.
"Sit here. Can't have you making noise."
At his words Chaeyoon knelt without a sound. As she lowered herself into the narrow gap between the seats, her skirt rode up to mid-thigh. The flesh above the black stockings looked white and soft, and the lace waistband at the top of the stockings, half-seen and half-hidden, was all the more erotic for it. The moment her knees touched the floor, the stockings gave a soft sliding whisper. She braced both hands on his thighs and bowed her head.
At first she used only the tip of her tongue, a light lick from the head of his cock down to the root, slow, as if she were licking melting ice cream. The warm, wet drag of her tongue worked over him, and the man let out a low breath. Her saliva wet the surface and made it slick. Then she opened her mouth and took the head. When that hot, soft mouth closed fully around him, pleasure ran cold up his spine.
Slurp... mmm... suck...
Wet sounds spread faintly beneath the blanket. Her lips rose and fell along his cock, and every time her tongue curled underneath to tease him, a shiver went through him. Whenever the train entered a tunnel, darkness swept past and her head showed dimly in the glass, bobbing to a rhythm. With one hand the man undid the neat updo. Black hair spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall, and a hairpin hit the floor with a small tick. The soft strands slipped between his fingers.
"Not bad.... Somebody train you for this?"
Instead of answering, she opened her throat and took him deeper.
"Nngh... kh—"
Contrary to his teasing, she wasn't used to it. Every time his cock jabbed her throat, the column of her neck jumped, and physiological tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. But her mouth never stopped. If anything, she curled her tongue deeper and worked the underside. Saliva spilled from her lips and wet him all the way down to his balls. The man reached out and took her head. Slowly, then faster and faster, he moved her back and forth. Each time the train took a curve her mouth was driven deeper, and spit ran out from under the blanket to dampen his trousers. He clenched a fist in the hair at the back of her head and drove in to the root in one stroke.
Glut. Gulp. Swallow.
Something hot went down her throat. Thick, sticky semen filled her mouth, and with her eyes closed she swallowed every drop without spilling one. When his cock slipped free, she licked the corner of her mouth with her tongue and looked up at him. From working so hard, perhaps from the impact, her lips were swollen and flushed red, and her eyes glittered, wet with tears.
"Has the discomfort been taken care of? Thank you for your patience, sir."
She spoke as if whispering. The man, though, did not look ready to finish.
"No. Your mouth isn't enough."
At that Chaeyoon seemed to hesitate for a moment, then rose as if she had made up her mind. Between the narrow seats she slowly gathered the H-line skirt up to her waist. Her smooth lower body appeared, sheathed in black pantyhose. The thin fabric clung to her skin and set off the soft curve of her thighs and the spring of her ass.
Riiip.
A sharp tearing sound cracked through the quiet of the special compartment. Both of Chaeyoon's hands ripped savagely through the center of her pantyhose. Between the torn black threads, pure-white panties and the pale skin of her inner thighs pushed into plain view. The ripped edges must have stung; they left a faint red mark on her skin, and a sweet womanly scent slipped through the slightly damp panties and mixed into the air. In an instant the neat uniform had become an obscene costume.
"Then... I'll attend to you more thoroughly."
Chaeyoon bit her lip lightly and pulled the white panties aside. Her cunt was bare—soft, wet, pink flesh, already glistening with excitement, a little fluid slipping down. She climbed onto the man's lap. As she slowly lowered her hips, his hot shaft rose through the hole torn in the stockings.
Squelch.
"Hnnngh...!"
A stifled moan broke from Chaeyoon's mouth. Her narrow, burning inner walls swallowed his cock without a gap. The tight uniform skirt pressed her ass in, and because of it the grip of her cunt was twice as fierce as it might have been. Hot flesh closed around him, and her fluids worked like slick oil.
Clack. Clack.
Every time the train passed a joint in the rails, her body jolted up and down. Chaeyoon locked her arms around the man's shoulders and moved her hips, giving herself over to the vibration. The torn stockings brushed her thighs—soft and scratchy at once—and the heavy fullness packed into her belly numbed her reason.
Schlick, slap, schlick.
Under the blanket, wet friction spread. Each time her cunt took his cock, clear arousal foamed up and soaked his lap. Another attendant passed, saw her, patted her shoulder with a word for her hard work, and went on.
"Ah, nnh...! Sir...! You're... too big...!"
Chaeyoon's eyes unfocused and her head fell back. Her breasts swayed inside the blouse, and he could feel her nipples standing hard. He grabbed the flesh of her ass where it showed through the torn stockings and drove his hips up without mercy, right up until the arrival announcement. His fingers dug into her, savoring the soft give.
This station is Yongsan, Yongsan Station, the final stop of this train. Passengers getting off...
Through the window, to the usual easy music that always played, the train could be seen pulling into the platform. At the same moment the man poured the rest of his semen into Chaeyoon's womb. Hot, sticky seed filled her inner walls, and she bowed her back like a drawn bow, taking all of it in a convulsion. Her cunt clenched around him as if sucking down the last drop.
"We hope the rest of your journey is comfortable. Please... ride with us again."
She steadied her ragged breath as she spoke, pulled the rolled-up skirt back down, and stood. She tried to sweep her hair over and tie it neat again, but the tie had vanished somewhere. Chaeyoon gave up and left it loose, wiping the traces from her lips with a handkerchief. Once she had straightened the blanket and risen, the man quietly held out his hand.
She lowered her eyes, shy, and carefully slipped off her high heels. Feet damp with sweat slid free of the black pumps with a soft rush of relief.
Sweat glistened between every toe, and the marks where the heels had pressed her were left red.
Droplets ran over the tops of her feet and seeped between her toes. For an instant the smell brushed the man's nose—salty and sweet at once, the scent of a woman's feet tangled with semen and her own wetness.
Very slowly, Chaeyoon began to peel off the black stockings, shiny with sweat. She lifted one leg a little and rolled the stocking down from the inside of her thigh.
As the nylon left her skin, the pressed marks stayed red, and the sweat-soaked inside turned out, stretching sticky strings of arousal and semen long between cloth and flesh.
When a string broke, a small drop fell onto the back of the man's hand.
The other leg, the same. Now both her feet were bare on the floor. When the still-hot soles met the cold floor of the car, Chaeyoon's shoulders drew in just a little.
She bunched the two peeled-off stockings together and carefully set them in the center of his palm.
The cloth, still warm with her body and damp, filled his hand.
Chaeyoon dipped her head slightly without a word. Her loosened hair spilled over her shoulders in a wave and tickled his nose.
Barefoot, she put the heels back on. For a moment she stood before his eyes with her white, sweat-damp bare legs plain beneath the skirt, and then she withdrew.
Click. Click.
Listening to the sound of her going, the man slowly brought the stockings in his palm up to his nose. He drew a short, deep breath.
Chaeyoon's sweat, her arousal, and the body-scent still left in the cloth struck him all at once.
He closed his eyes and savored that smell for a long, long time.
The platform at Yongsan Station.
In the thick of the crowd, Chaeyoon stood bare-legged, seeing the passengers off.
"Have a safe trip."
Down the inside of her smiling thigh, the sticky fluid that had filled her womb ran in a trickle. Meeting the hot summer air, it had already reached her calf and slid over bare skin. Now and then she pressed her legs together and tried her best to hold it, but in the end it wet her bare ankle and seeped into the high heel.
The man passed close enough to brush her. In that instant their eyes met, only for a heartbeat. Chaeyoon bit her lip lightly and dipped her head.
Then, as if nothing at all had happened, she smiled and greeted the next guest.
As the elevator doors closed, the empty special compartment filled his sight. The stockings left behind without their owner. And only the thick scent steeped in them rode the air and circled at his side.