A New Way to Get to Work

I lived on the beach for a while and commuted by motorcycle to the city. It was a pretty long trip, but fun, with winding roads taking me over the coastal hills and then along a lovely, rolling freeway to my office. I loved to ride, still do, in fact. It was a great way to start my day.

In the summer, it was beautiful, but in the winter months, when even California gets its share of rain, I sometimes regretted not having a car. Usually my rainsuit and boots did the job, but if it was really bad, I'd walk to the station near my house and take the train.

I hated to do that because it was a hell of a long trip and minus the fun factor of the motorcycle. The train had to skirt the hills and pass through a valley before finally running parallel with the highway. Instead of my usual 40-50 minute ride, I could count on an hour on the train, plus the ten or so minutes on the shuttle to the office. The rain would have to be pretty bad for me to take it, but sometimes I did.

On one of those days, I woke up and heard the rain like thunder on the roof. I looked out the window in the early morning light and saw standing water in the street and the rain so heavy it looked like a series of sheer curtains, letting little light through. It would be a train day I realized. So I hustled getting ready, and within half an hour I was standing in the shelter of the train platform. The train came almost immediately and I congratulated myself on catching it instead of the next one a half hour later that I usually got.

The train was almost empty, and I chose the end row with seats that faced one another, draped my raincoat on the seat between me and the window, kicked back, put my feet up, and waited for the train to pull out.

Just before it did, a woman came into the car. She walked up the car in my direction and, though the car was nearly empty, sat across from me and put her feet up on the seat next to me. Figures, I muttered. At least she was attractive, though, with blue eyes and short brown hair, a green skirt suit that came to her knees, and stockings the made her tapered, slim legs shimmer down to the low boots she was wearing. Her only concession to the rain was an umbrella which she laid on the floor. She smiled a greeting and sat back, putting her feet on the seat next to me. I returned her smile and nodded.

As the train lurched forward, she took out a portfolio and opened it across her knees, looking down at it intently, reading what was there, making notes with a pen. I gave her another quick looking over, awarded her an A+, and then turned my gaze out the window at the rain-soaked landscape and the raindrops that streaked across the window.

Getting comfortable, she slid down a bit and bent her legs, resting the balls of her booted feet on the edge of the chair, raising the portfolio up on her thighs to make it easier to see. I glanced down at her and did a double take. Her legs were slightly apart, and the skirt draped down, opening enough that I could see down to the crack of her ass. Her stockings were thigh-highs, very sexy lace tops, and she was either wearing no underwear or a thong. I couldn't see from the angle I was looking, and I didn't want to stare, but I did my share of peeking. I'll take my cheap thrills where I can get them.

After one especially long look, I glanced at her face. She was looking directly at me. I felt my face turn hot and looked away out the window, figuring she'd move away in a huff or maybe even make a nasty comment about me being a pervert, which, to be honest, I definitely am.

But she did none of those things. Instead, she looked back down at her portfolio. And opened her legs a bit more, tipping her knees my way just slightly, giving me a good look.

She had to know I was looking. Didn't she? I know she saw my eyes. Then why didn't she close her legs at least?

I didn't know, and I didn't care. I looked between her thighs, and this time I had a clear view of her pussy and the cheeks of her ass. Her outer lips were shaved smooth, pale with a small triangle of hair just above her clitoris. The inner lips were soft pink, unfolding from within, just slightly. Her clit itself wasn't visible, but the uppermost corner of the sheath was.

In other words, she was turned on. Just a little, but undeniably turned on.

I looked up at her face again just in time to see her eyes flick down again to the portfolio on her thighs. The top of her pen rested between her lips in a pose I found extremely erotic. My cock was swollen and hard, getting harder at the thought that she might possibly be getting off at me looking at her. I sure as hell was, my cock growing and swelling. I crossed my legs to hide it, but then a thought occurred to me.

I slide down a bit myself and rested my feet on the floor, letting her see the growing bulge, and watched her face out of the corner of my eye. I had on a light pair of boxers, and the lip at the head of my cock was visible, straining up at the fabric of my slacks.

She glanced at my crotch, and then again. And then again, a lingering look. Her legs opened a bit more, and I looked between her smooth thighs again. Her sex opened a bit more, unfolding slightly, revealing more pale and coral pink. I gazed at her pussy like a secret shared.

I pretended to brush something off my lap, but really I was adjusting myself. In the process, my watch band hooked my straining zipper and pulled it down partway. I was shocked and embarrassed at first as the tented plaid boxers pushed through the opening, but then I heard her slight gasp and saw her face glued to my crotch. So I played it off, finishing my adjustment with a tug at the boxers that revealed a bit of pink skin and purple mushroom tip.

Her breathing stopped and then resumed slightly deeper. She started to open and close her legs in a slow rhythm, squeezing together before parting them, working her hips slightly. She was making no bones about it now, staring fixedly at my partly revealed hard-on as I was staring at her pussy, watching the surrounding flesh rub and squeeze against her now fully hard clit as she worked her legs and pelvis slowly and methodically. Her pussy was in full, beautiful bloom, and as she opened her legs, wider each time it seemed, I could see past the pink butterfly wings of her labia into the glistening depths of her. There was a sound, too, like someone smacking their lips softly, and the scent of her arousal reached my nose.

Throwing caution to the wind, I reached down to my lap and unzipped the fly slowly. A barely audible moan came from her as the fly of my slacks pushed open to reveal a mix of hard, angry cockflesh and plaid boxers. The oscillations of her legs accelerated, and we started at one another. Her face was flushed, and her pussy was beautiful.

After a moment, she said, "Please."

"Please what," I asked. She was staring at my crotch as if in a trance.

"Take it out," she breathed. "Let me see."

I looked around. It was too public. I shook my head. I needed more privacy to give her all the goods. As it was, if someone I knew walked by...

She said, "Can I?"

"Can you what?"

"Can I take it out? Can I touch it?"

Before I could even reply, she had moved next to me, and slipped her hand into the fly of my slacks and into the fly of my boxers, wrapping her hand around my cock. I gasped at her touch and groaned as she slipped it free. My cock jerked in her hand and she squeezed, and that was all it took. I came in her hand, the first jet hitting her arm, the rest of it spilling onto her hand and my pants as I tried like hell to be quiet.

She lifted her knee, letting me see her pussy again, and then groaned, shuddering. Her head tipped back and I could see her pussy pulsing rhythmically, each pulse igniting a shiver of her body. She was cumming right there next to me with her hand on my cock. I watched her in a mix of arousal and amazement.

The pulses tapered off, and she let go of my cock and put her foot on the floor. She smiled a bit sheepishly, not looking at me, straightening her hair, mumbling something that sounded like an apology. I said softly, "That was the sexiest, most erotic thing I have ever experienced."

The train started to slow down and she smiled and stood up, collecting her portfolio. "Me too. I don't know what came over me...I just saw you looking and..."

I handed her a business card. She smiled and slid one out of her portfolio and handed it to me. "Do you take the train often?" I asked.

"Every day."

I smiled and said, "So do I."