Don't Be Rude

I had a bit of trouble with my car recently. I'd been way out in the suburbs on a business trip, right across the other side of town. I was sitting at a red light, waiting for a green, when I happened to look in the rear vision mirror. There was a car approaching from behind at high speed.

One glance was all I need to see that there was no way that idiot was going to be able to stop before he was all over me. I couldn't accelerate as the cross traffic on the main road was quite heavy. My chosen option was to jam on the handbrake hard, open the car door, and step out and away from my car. I finished up three or four paces away, sheltered by a nice strong electricity pole, watching my car get rear ended and pushed into the cross traffic where it promptly got t-boned.

Like I said, I had car trouble. After the emergency vehicles had arrived I was invited down to the local cop-shop to give a statement. There were a number of injuries and the entire intersection had to be closed down, causing chaos with the traffic flow. The boys in blue were naturally interested in getting a statement from a surviving driver.

I'd signed an authorisation to have my car towed before I went to the cop shop so I didn't have to worry about that. I'd also rung my insurance while waiting around at the cop shop, sorting things out. The car was, I assured them, a complete write-off. They agreed I could use a hire car while waiting for the claim to go through.

My immediate problem on getting out of the police station was getting home. A taxi would cost a fortune. I'd probably get reimbursed by the insurance company but I didn't want the extra bother. Plus the local taxi company had said they were flat out and it might take an hour before they could get me. I said the hell with it, I'll take a train. Fortunately, the police station was reasonable adjacent to the train station. I strolled over and bought a ticket.

What with all the stuffing around it was getting quite dark. Evening had approached, twilight hovered around us, and the dark was approaching. The dark had actually arrived when the train pulled up. Seeing the gates at my home station were in the middle of the platform I naturally boarded at that approximate position. Crowded train. I was the only one in the carriage.

My solitary journey didn't last long. A couple of young ladies piled into my carriage at the next stop and sat opposite me. As soon as I saw them I thought Betty and Veronica. They were both quite pretty with a healthy, nubile, look. One was blonde and the other a brunette. Hence the names.

Now if two pretty young things get in a train and sit opposite of course you're going to look them over. They were nicely made up and I immediately surmised that they were going to a party, or out on the town at the very least. They were both wearing party dresses, carrying jackets in case it cooled down.

Now I'm not a prude, but there was no way I'd let my daughter out dressed like them. (Not that I have a daughter. Hell, I'm not even married. But the principle is the same.) The dresses were very nice, but they were, in my opinion, designed for women a little older and a little more sophisticated than these two. Looking at them, the adjective that popped to mind was tarts.

The problem, again in my opinion, was that the dresses were too short. Now I don't mind short dresses. I'm all in favour of my dates wearing short dresses, the shorter the better, but my dates would be travelling by car. These two young ladies were sitting on a train and I was amused to notice that when they sat down their dresses rode up, revealing a flash of panties whenever they wriggled around.

They were busy nattering to each other, typing away at their smart phones at the same time. I just settled back and wished the train would go faster.

Teach me to make foolish wishes. The train pulled up to a complete halt. At least they now have speaker system to tell the poor passengers what's going on.

"We apologise at the delay. There has been an accident at a level crossing. We will be delayed for approximately half an hour while the roadway is cleared."

That's railway speak for 'you're stuck here for the next hour or two'.

I groaned silently, leaned back and stared blankly in front of me. To give myself something to do I reviewed a problem I was having with a program I was trying to debug. Logically, it should have worked fine. Practically, it had a moving error. I mentally started going over possible causes.

"What are you fucking staring at," said in quite a sweet, but annoyed voice, came at me out of nowhere.

I blinked and snapped my attention back to the here and now, focusing on the two women. They were both glaring at me.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking to me?" I asked politely.

The brunette, the one I'd dubbed Veronica, rolled her eyes.

"You see anyone else in the bloody carriage?" she asked.

"Well, yes. You two. That's why I couldn't be sure you were addressing me. I'm afraid I didn't really hear what you said. My attention was elsewhere."

"Yeah, we noticed that, you pervert. You were staring at us so I asked you what you were fucking looking at."

I hadn't really been staring at them. I'd probably just been looking in their general direction and they assumed that they were the focus of my attention. I suppose I should just have mumbled an apology and looked elsewhere, but I was feeling a little fed up with the events of the day.

I ran my eyes over her, top to bottom, pausing to stare at her crotch rather rudely. Her legs were slightly parted and the short dress was letting me see her panties. From her I switched my gaze to blonde Betty and gave her the same once over. I then curled my upper lip slightly in a gesture of disdain.

"What am I looking at? Nothing much. Nothing much at all."

Both girls flushed. Betty from embarrassment, Veronica from anger.

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Veronica. "Do you think we're a couple of fucking tarts?"

"You'd know better than me what sort of tart you are," I observed, amused to see her flush deepen.

"Who the hell do you think you are you fucking asshole?" Veronica raged. "Think you're better than us just because you wear a suit and a tie? You're just the same as us, stuck on a fucking train."

"Only because I happened to wreck the Mercedes in a little accident," I told her. (I wish I did have had a Mercedes. There again, think of the pain in seeing it totalled?)

"Ooh, the posh man has a posh Mercedes," came the scornful comment. "Pity he can't fucking drive."

"You know, you have what my mother used to call a potty mouth. You look quite passable until you start to talk. Someone needs to teach you some manners."

"Yeah, right. And I suppose you're fucking going to be the one."

"Fucking, aye," chipped in her friend Betty. "There's nothing wrong with the way we fucking talk. Just because you talk like an asshole doesn't mean we have to."

"Might I point out that the ones dribbling verbal diarrhea are the ones who could be properly called assholes, as you so quaintly put it."

"What did he say," Betty asked her friend, who was now looking daggers at me.

"He said we talk shit and that that makes us the fucking assholes," Veronica said, almost spitting the words in her fury.

With that both girls launched into a tirade, abusing me all the way back for four generations. I considered it remarkable that I could have come from so many different backgrounds. Amusing though it was, it was also starting to get boring. Time to shut them up for a while.

I glanced around the carriage, noting certain facilities that, while present, were no longer able to serve their supposed purpose. Interesting. It made for possibilities.

"OK, girls," I said. "You've had you fun. Now how about cooling it before I have to take steps."

"What sort of steps, you loser," sneered Veronica.

I stood up and moved over to stand over her, glaring down at her.

"How about, if you don't quieten down I'll put you across my knee and paddle your backside?"

She jumped to her feet, smirking.

"I'd love to see you try," she crowed. "Go on. Put me over your knee and spank me. I fucking dare you."

Who am I to reject a dare? I promptly took her firmly by the elbow and pulled her over to where I'd been sitting. It was interesting. She put up a pretence of a struggle but didn't actually do so, letting me drag her over to my seat and apart from a pro forma protest didn't say anything when I pushed her dress up far enough to show her bottom and skimpy panties.

I gave her bottom a firm spank and she practically crowed with delight.

"Ha, you're in trouble now, asshole. Assault and battery and sexual assault. You're really in for it."

"I don't think so," I said quietly. "My word against yours. The cops won't do anything."

"Your word against mine and the camera," she retorted. "Laugh your way out of that."

I brought my hand down hard on her bottom a second time, smiling when she yelped.

"You're not very observant," I told her. "If you look around the carriage you'll see a fair bit of fresh graffiti. If you look at the cameras, you'll see that they've both been painted over. Graffiti gangs tend to do that to prevent evidence being taken."

Veronica twisted her head to look at the nearest camera, even as I brought my hand down for the next spank, and screamed with outrage. I'm not sure if it was because of the spank or the useless camera.

"Now if you'll excuse me," I said, "I want to get down to giving you the proper spanking you dared me to give you."

"Wait. Don't you fucking dare," she shrieked.

She shrieked again when I pulled her panties down.

After that the silence was broken, not by the young ladies' abuse, but by the sound of a hand landing firmly on a naked bottom, accompanied by a variety of squeals, yelps, curses and screams.

By the time I finished Veronica had a flaming bottom and a temper to match. I stood her up and marched her back to her seat and sat her down firmly. She just sat there, glaring up at me, too incensed, apparently, to realise that her panties were still dangling around one ankle.

I turned and gave Betty a cold look.

"Get up. It's your turn."

"What? Why do I have to get spanked? I'm not daring you to spank me."

"You were being just as abusive as your friend," I pointed out. "It just wouldn't be fair to spank her and not you."

I reach for her elbow and helped her to her feet, guiding her across the carriage to my chosen spot. She went over my knee, protesting all the while. Then it was a case of skirt up and panties down, much to her horror from the sound of her protests, and then a nice spank to get things rolling.

After that it was simply a case of delivering a standard spanking while she squealed and complained and apologised. It still left her with a nicely warmed bottom at the conclusion of events.

After I'd completed the spanking I didn't put her immediately back on her feet. I held her where she was, rubbing her bottom.

"Tell me, how old are you and the juvenile delinquent over there?" I asked her.

Older than I'd expected, being nineteen and twenty respectively.

"That's fortunate," I murmured, permitting my hand to wander further afield.

"Why is it fortunate? Don't you touch me there. You shouldn't be doing that. Are you going to let me up?"

"It's fortunate because I'm a firm believer in following up a spanking with a good screwing to help demonstrate my mastery. Apart from your good friend Veronica over there I haven't spanked a single woman without having sex with her immediately."

True that. I hadn't actually spanked any other women apart from Veronica but, if I had, I'm sure I would have followed it up with some interesting sex.

"Her name's not Veronica," said Betty. "You don't for a single moment think we're going to let you have sex with us?"

"Yes," I said, standing her on her feet, facing me.

I eased forward on the seat a little, undoing my trousers as I did so. It only took a moment and Betty was looking down at a nice erection that was standing up tall, waving to her.

"Turn around," I said, tugging slightly on one arm to encourage her. As soon as she was facing away from me I ran my hands up her legs, pushing her dress up as I went, finally closing my hands around her hips.

"Ok, sit down slowly," I told her and, rather to my surprise, she did.

She gave a gasp when she felt my cock brushing between her legs but she didn't falter. Looking past her I could see her reflection in the window and she was looking directly at Veronica as she slowly sank down. Even as I watched she found my cock pressing against her pussy and I saw her eyes open wide. She didn't stop though. She just kept settling onto me, taking me into her.

It seems my first impression had been correct, tarts. What sort of women meekly settles down to getting screwed just because she's been told to?

But settle down is precisely what my new friend did, easing herself onto me until she was sitting firmly in my lap, and even then she gave a little wriggle to make sure I was all the way in.

"Good girl," I said quietly. "Now bounce. Start slowly but then put some effort into it. I want to feel myself sliding into you with a bit of pep."

Betty did as she was told, sliding herself up and down my pole, starting slowly but picking up speed as she went. She was also looking at the window across from us, watching herself and watching my erection slide up into her as she bounced.

It was obvious, both from her actions and from the look on her face (reflected in the window) that Betty was truly excited. I'd have said the excitement was contagious but this would probably have been stretching the truth. I had found myself getting excited before my hand spanked that first bare bottom. I'm just a natural lecher, I guess. Veronica, on the other hand, didn't seem all that excited, just furious. At both Betty and me would be my guess. Still, as she wasn't the one currently attached to my cock I could ignore her.

Betty was now bouncing along nicely, sliding up and down my pole in fine style. I will admit to giving a little judicious assistance, but I must say that the whole thing was a most moving experience. (Most of the movement was up and down, but it was all to the good.)

Betty wasn't backward about letting her excitement be known. She was gasping and making a series of eager little moans, squeals of "oh god," "yes, yes, yes," and various other entreaties were flowing in a constant stream as she drove herself willy-nilly towards a climax.

I didn't try to slow down Betty's head-long charge. Truth be known, a little bit of delicate touching in certain places by a helping hand pushed her along, bringing her to the heights and enthusiastically helping to push her over. She warbled out her climax, shuddering and shrieking, before sinking back down onto my lap.

I encouraged her to rise, getting her off me and onto her feet and then steering her back across the carriage to sit next to Veronica. Veronica gave Betty a cutting look and then turned it on me.

"If you think that you can get me to sit on your lap and fuck you need your head read," she snapped. "Besides, a poofter like you couldn't get it up a second time."

"Ah. . ." Betty started to say but shut up at a look from me. I knew what she was going to say. I'd just as soon that Veronica didn't. Namely that I hadn't climaxed. I was still loaded and hunting, ready to take my shot.

"I wouldn't expect you to," I said smoothly. "As a matter of fact I suspect that right now you wouldn't fuck with me for love or money."

Veronica looked a little mollified at that, but still highly suspicious. I don't think she trusted me one inch. She was also vividly aware that I was still erect and that my erection was on display fairly close to her, showing that her no second time was just wishful thinking.

"However, my belligerent little friend, I'm willing to wager that you'll yield to a show of belligerence."

With that I reached for her arm, pulling her into an upright position.

"Right, Bitch," I snapped at her, "turn around and bend over hand on the seat, and make sure your legs are spread nice and wide."

To make sure that she obeyed I spun her around and pressed against her back, making her lean forward. Then I pushed her dress up free from her bottom, noting absentmindedly that she still hadn't pulled her panties up. I suspect that she knew this was coming.

Then I was using one hand to make sure her lips were parted and I was driving in firmly. (Her legs were nicely parted, waiting. I didn't have to enforce that.) I drove all the way in with that first lunge. Although she'd probably deny it to her dying day she was ready and waiting for me, her passage hot and slick with moisture. (I guess Betty's excitement had been contagious. Either that or Veronica was a natural voyeur and lecher.)

I was right about Veronica's belligerence. She was both belligerent and competitive, and when I started driving in she gave an angry yowl and pushed back equally as hard against me. Then it was on. I was banging into her hard, feeling intense pleasure from the way she was wrapped around me. Her passage was clinging to me, dragging against me as I drove in, and feeling her pushing frantically against me, taking me as deep as possible with every thrust.

I was hot and ready and banged her with great pleasure and I'm damned sure that she was taking just as much pleasure from what she was doing. Betty, I noticed, was watching us, a big smirk on her face. She seemed to be taking great pleasure in seeing Veronica being so forcefully screwed.

We continued on our happy way, coming together rapidly, both of us burning with excitement. Compared to Betty, Veronica was almost silent as we duelled, resulting in me feeling gratified on those occasion when she gave an involuntary cry of pleasure.

I got a bloody shock when the train suddenly lurched forward. God help me, there was a station on the other side of that damned crossing. Veronica must have realised the same thing. There was a sudden urgency to her movements, a desperation to finish, but also a desperation to climax.

I was going to be all right. I could feel my climax coming and she was about to be thoroughly serviced. I finally let loose. She was lucky. She climaxed even as I was ejaculating, but it was more by chance than planning. I stayed there for a moment, holding myself deep within her.

The train was picking up speed and I hastily withdrew, tidying my clothes and taking a seat. Veronica had very smartly pulled up her panties, sitting down quickly next to Betty, breathing hard and looking flushed.

Moments later the train was pulling into the station. Finally we had more passengers boarding, including a few more young ladies who seemed to know Betty and Veronica, settling down next to them.

Geez, the rest of the journey was a nightmare for me. All the young ladies were busy chatting and giggling, discussing something in great detail. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I'll swear that a number of times various young ladies would glance at me before turning away giggling. When I saw Veronica indicating the size of something I was partially relieved. It couldn't have been about me. I wasn't that big.