It was rush hour, and it was crowded in that car. Alwaysis, and usually I hate it. Squeezed into a corner of thetrain, clinging desperately to the handrail above me asI’m surrounded by men and women coming home from work orshopping or whatever it is they did that dragged them outinto the misery we shared. I feel arms and knees andelbows and backs all around me, crushing me alive.
People reading newspapers or magazines or looking out
thewindows or talking to each other, trying to forget howuncomfortable
they all are. Every bump and lurch of thesubway car causes us to sway,
and I’m forced to sway withthem. It’s all I can do to hang onto the
rail, yet I feellike if I let go, I’ll still remaining standing, held
upby the flood of people surrounding me.
It was in this state that I
was in the train pulled intothe Cortelyou Station. At this stop, as at
every stop, Iwas hoping silently that some of the people would get
offand ease up on the pressure. I watched some of themfiling off with
relief, but not enough of them left. Andmore began to file in. Then
more. I grit my teeth as theyforced themselves into the already crowded
train, beingcompacted slowly. Finally, the doors closed and we
beganmoving again, even more crowded than before.
It was only when
we had been going for a while that Inoticed the woman in front of me.
She was very attractiveas she looked down at a newspaper she was
reading. Herlong red hair fell down over the shoulders of a greenblouse,
and I glanced down to see her curvy body wasbeing hugged by a light
black skirt. She was facing awayfrom me, and I realised with a jolt that
the crowds hadpositioned us so that my crotch was pressing up
againsther rear.
I tried to look away and not think of the
awkwardness ofthe situation. She didn’t seem to have noticed. Yet, asthe
train swayed on the tracks, I found myself beingpushed up against her,
again and again. I could feel thecurves of her asscheeks through her
skirt against mybody, and with every bump I was pressed up against
them.It didn’t take much imagination to feel as if I wasthrusting into
her, over and over again, guided by themovements of the train. The only
thing preventing it frombeing a reality were the thin layers of our
clothes.
It was so easy to imagine those clothes being gone.
Icouldn’t help thinking about it. In fact, it wasn’t anunappealing
thought. I glanced down at her, then tried tofocus on a cigarette ad on
the wall as I was bounced intoher again and again. She shifted a little,
and her buttrubbed against my crotch.
It was too much for me. I
felt a chill of horror as Ifelt my body begin to respond. I swelled in
my jeans, andthe sensations increased as I moved against her, causingme
to swell even more. Within seconds, I was hard as arock.
Sweat broke
out on my face as I realised she was going tonotice. She would feel my
hardness against her, andrealize she was pushing up against a pervert.
She’d bedisgusted and react with horror and scream or pull away,which
would be just as bad because I was enjoying itdespite myself. I bit my
lip, trying to will my body torespond, and waiting for her to react.
Yet nothing happened. She continued to read the newspaperas I bounced
against her rear, as if nothing washappening. She had to have noticed.
Maybe she hadn’t, wasall I could think. Maybe she would think it was
just anelbow or something and I’d get away with it. I felt alittle
relief, but decided not to push it. I had to endthis before it got out
of hand.
I shifted myself around a little to turn my crotch awayfrom
her ass as much as I could. Then I felt a shock as ahand touched my
hip. It tucked a finger into the pocketof my jeans and pulled me until
it had turned me aroundagain, so that my crotch was buried in her cheeks
onceagain.
The woman in front of me glanced up from her
newspaper.Her blue eyes locked on mine, and I felt the full impactof
what was happening in that brief moment before shelooked down at the
paper again. It was her hand that hadpulled me back. It was she who had
pulled me back intoher. The message was clear. She didn’t want me to
stop.
Daring not to breathe, I began to sway with the train
alittle more. I tried to make it look as if it was justthe movements of
the car, but moved with it to pushmyself against her. My hips bounced
lightly against herrear, deeper against her. I felt pressure with
everythrust. She was pushing back at me. Among these crowds ofpeople, we
were silently making fucking motions towardeach other.
I leaned my
head back as I pushed harder against her.Pleasure flowed through me as I
felt her warm bodyagainst mine. Looking down at her, I could see her
cheekswere growing pinker and she was gripping the newspapertighter. I
glanced around us. No one seemed to notice orcare. It was just the two
of us in a sea of people.
I let go of the rail with one hand, and
slid it downcasually. I let my hand drift between us to cup one cheekof
her ass. I squeezed it lightly, and I heard her inhalesharply as she
pressed against it.
When I felt her hand again, it wasn’t as
surprising asthe last time. Her fingers slid to my zipper and pulledit
down. Then her hand slipped into my jeans and pulledmy swollen shaft
free of my briefs. Freed, it sprang outand pushed against her ass.
As casually as I could I lifted her skirt. It was onlythen that I
discovered she wasn’t wearing anythingunderneath, because my cock buried
itself inside her bareass. I was soaking wet by then and my preseminal
fluidsalong with the natural rhythm of the bouncing train madequick work
of what might have been awkward in othercircumstances.
She clenched
her cheeks together, gripping my shafttightly as I thrust back and
forth against her. Iclutched the handrail tighter and heard her
newspaperrustle as she tightened her grip on it as well. She
wasbreathing heavily as I began to push harder and fasterinto her,
rubbing her crack with my hardness.
Then she bit her lip and gave
off a soft squeak. I felther cheeks clenching in rhythm as she came, and
thesensation sent me over the edge. I couldn’t hold back agrunt as I
climaxed in her. I felt my come shoot intoher. We were pressed together,
shuddering, surrounded bypeople, but not caring.
The train gave off
a whine as it pulled into the nextstation. I flushed with panic as I
hurried to tuck myselfinto my clothes again and zip up the fly. Her hand
swepther skirt into place. We arranged ourselves just in timeas the
train came to a stop and the doors opened.
People began to file out.
The woman turned away from meand I heard the rustle of paper. Then she
tore off theedge of her newspaper. She slipped it into my hand as
shelooked up at me once more. Her expression was calm andneutral, but I
saw a flicker of amusement in her eyes fora brief moment. Then she
walked out with the others. Icaught a glimpse of a glistening wetness
running down herinner thighs as she walked away.
I looked down at
the paper she had given me. It had ahastily scribbled message on it that
read: “I’ll be onthis train next Tuesday. Hope you will too.”
I guess rush hour isn’t so bad, after all.