Downtown Train

The steam rose from the street girders in lazy, smoky waves. They were mysteriously lit in different sections by the intermittent street lights surrounding the portal to the underground train. I didn't like the gassy, oily smell of the streets as it was; the steam only served to bring that stench up from the blackened streets to the eyes, nose and mouth of anyone within perception range.

I got a brief whiff of the steam and shook my head a bit, then snorted and wiped my nose with the back of my leather glove covered hand. I didn't have time to care about the ole factory assault of the streets as the train would soon come quickly rumbling through the tunnel with screeching brakes and thundering force. I had to move fast now, or else I would miss her tonight.

Down the many steps of the portal I quickly descended into the depths of the subway tunnel waiting area. My leather boots clattered on the filthy tiles of the platform and I could feel a bit of sweat running down my back under my white t-shirt, despite the slight chill in the night air. Probably due to my leather vest being so close to my olive skin, separated only by the thin fabric of my cotton top.

I moved to the end of the platform, at the precipice of the drop off to the tracks, much like all the others who had been expecting the train, and when I leaned slightly over to see the lights of the train growing larger and larger as they approached the platform, I felt my breasts swing forward, my nipples pushing against the t-shirt and the vest sides.

I smiled to myself, remembering how I had gone bra-less tonight, leaving my usual black sports bra for riding my Harley, at home on the dresser. It was a cheap, amateurish move, I knew that. But, I was getting a bit desperate, in my heart, having to spend night after night for almost a month, watching her ride home with her school friends, and then having to go home alone.

Ever since that first night, when I'd seen her, she'd captured something inside of me I hadn't expected. With her creamy, alabaster skin and dark, loosely wavy hair that ran like a wonderful shiny waterfall down her back and sometimes across her shoulders, I was instantly smitten. Not an easy thing for me to admit, being all leather and motorcycle boots and skull and crossbones necklace.

We were hardly the two types to come together as a couple...... despite us both being female. I had never been drawn by a girl before, and at first it gave me a start. But her innocence and lace, and the school girl uniform with the men's tie, the pleated skirt and white bobbi socks.... they never left my mind.

As the train intruded its way quickly around the tunnel corner, pushing the rush of air into our faces, I felt my choppy, shoulder length black hair flutter about my face like a shampoo model in some TV commercial. The wind rushed up my leather skirt and cooled me slightly across my upper thighs. While the train made its way toward us, I felt a knot in my stomach as I thought about all the nights I had pretended to just be a passenger and not a creepy stalker on the nightly downtown train.

I had seen all the school boys, and some college boys, make their way over to her in the crowded subway cabin, flirt and chat, and sometimes touch her, and my heart would sink. How easily this delicate beauty could simply wave her hand, or give a quick reply of "Okay, bye." and stop them in their tracks. I secretly told her in my thoughts, That-a-girl! Turn them away, they have nothing that will ever capture your heart. They're just thorns without the rose. Be careful of them in the dark.

Tonight, win lose or draw, would be different. Surely, I thought, she had seen me in the crowd enough times to think of me as just some biker chick who, like herself, rode the downtown train. I hadn't stared at her, or made any strange false moves in her direction. I knew just how to watch her when she wasn't looking my way, and how to casually turn away at the right time without meeting her eyes, as she turned her own head. I wasn't her stalker. I was just another girl on the train.

I wouldn't mention how many times I had tailed her to her home in the neighboring burbs. To the blue and white brick and wood home she shared with a daddy, who obviously made a good bit of change, and a mommy who seemed like a young church lady type. White picket fences around the yard and a chocolate lab who ran up to meet her as she arrived at home from her parochial high school, finished out the "Rockwell" picture.

She would be graduating from that school soon, as summer arrived, and I might lose her forever - to sororities and football quarterbacks in another state far away, in the fall. Considering how her ample sized melon breasts stretched the fabric of her crisply starched shirt and pulled the buttons tight, such a future was indeed a possibility.

In order for those breasts to stretch a shirt for me and not the football team, I had to move fast, confidently, even though girl to girl was perhaps something brand new for each one of us. I never saw myself as a lesbian, or her as one either, all I knew was that my heart ached to love her and my sex burned to be intimate with her. And only her.

As the train pulled bruskly in front of all the people waiting at the terminal, I went into my physical "I don't care" mode. I tucked the tops of my fingers into the pockets of my "almost too short" leather skirt, slumped my shoulders and lowered my eyelids to half mast over my large, brown eyes.

The doors swung open and passengers began to disembark in hurried, confused fashion. I let them go by me with an unimpressed look on my face and then, when they were almost done, I pushed past the last few with an ingenuine impatience.

I grabbed the first post I saw, not wanting to commit to a seat just yet, and swung into a standing position against the doors on the other side of the train. Other people followed me into the cab, and I pretended to be studying them as they entered. Each entering passenger would pull my eyes in one of the two directions of the train and when they did I would capture a glimpse of who was on the train and already seated.

I smiled inwardly as I spotted my obsession toward the front of the cab, already seated with her school girl friends, chatting away, giggling at something funny that they had shared. She flashed that cherry ice cream smile of hers.

She was here! My breath caught in my throat. My pulse quickened in my neck. Watching her with my peripheral vision, I avoided any direct eye contact, much to my frustration, for I had longed to look into those eyes and see them lock onto my own. I felt my nipples harden at the thought.

Even though there were about twenty feet of other passengers on the train between us, I saw only her in my side vision. She took her hand and pushed the entirety of her long, wavy hair from her back and around her shoulder as she chatted girl talk, and it exposed her smooth, creamy neck. I openly gasped under my breath, and shook my head to myself as I did. How had this happened to a motorcycle-pool hall chick like me? How could I be so drawn to little miss conservative America? I didn't know. It was just the way it was.

After a few minutes of crowded riding, I pretended to have had enough of the public smell of another passenger and threw my hands up in disgust. "God Damn!" I spat. And I gave a complete stranger a nasty look.

I moved to the front of the train like I was running away from a skunk, brandishing an annoyed look on my face and slammed my back against the door at the front of the cab, rubbing my nose with one hand and looking off into the crowd of people whom I had left by the entrance door.

She was now seated to my right with her friends, and I avoided looking her way, so as not to give away any pretense. I had to hope she had become aware of me as I had suddenly moved about, and looking her way, meeting her eyes might have given me away in some small fashion.

Being a woman, I know women, and I know how we have a sixth sense when it comes to subtle clues that someone likes us. We know long before guys usually think we know. Almost immediately. So I had to be careful to keep our meeting natural and in context.

I felt the loose dollar in my pocket with the tips of my fingers and continued to act annoyed, looking off in the distance toward the crowd. Not coincidentally, a small female voice addressed me from the seat of girls next to me. It wasn't her, for she was next to the window, not the isle, but it was one of her friends - which was more than ideal.

"What happened?" She asked. "Did someone fart?" She then continued with a school girl laugh.

Keeping my semi-detached position, I calmly looked over and down at the strawberry blonde in the seat next to me where I was standing, making sure I didn't look up at my muse and meet her eyes..... even though I was fully aware that at this point she was getting a full eye view of me.

I took a deep breath, pushing my bra-less breasts past the sides of my vest, and out into view and responded. "Some people just don't know what soap is!"

They giggled at this, and I gave the blonde a smile, then I responded to the rest of the giggling girls by scanning the group. First, the girl next to her, then the girl across from her and then casually I landed on my beauty's lovely face. For a brief, time stopping moment, she and I actually locked eyes. Her golden brown, almost tea colored eyes, gave me a start and my lips parted unintentionally. My breasts subtly rose in the moment.

Without looking away, I returned to my uninvolved attitude and remarked to them all, "You're a happy bunch. I don't get too much happy. It's nice."

The blonde asked me, "You're like some kind of biker girl, right?"

I turned to answer her, but slowly. I turned my head sideways keeping my eyes locked for another moment on my object of desire and then reluctantly pulled my eyes away as I said, "I've got a bike. I've been in a few clubs. Not gangs, just biker clubs."

"I hear they are like so misogynist... is that true?"

I nodded. "They can be. Why, you want to hook up with a biker?" I said with a smirk.

They all giggled again. It was annoyingly innocent and school-girlish and I worked hard not to laugh at them.

She put her hands to her face and seemed to blush, "Oh, God! My father would kill me!" She gasped.

I moved forward to face the group, trapping them in the seats where they sat, a subtle power move that I knew would not go unnoticed by any of them.

I said, "Where are you girls from? Some kind of religious school?"

I moved my eyes among the innocent, slightly made up faces before me. Lastly, I locked again with those golden brown eyes I longed to possess and gave her a slightly lifted eyebrow along with an extra beat of paused moment before returning to the blonde.

I could smell the mix of shampoo and Chanell number 5 wafting up from their nubile, perfumed bodies. I wasn't crazy about women's perfume, but I had to remind myself that this would probably be the scent I would learn to live with... if things went well.

"We're from Cabrini." My obsession offered up before anyone else could get a word in. I turned to lock eyes with her again, my heart was beginning to leap in my chest.

"What do they teach you there? To be sloppy?" I said to her while eyeballing her up and down. I looked at her precious, pink lipstick covered mouth and then from one golden eye to the other golden eye. The triangle was unmistakable.

She blushed slightly and insisted, "No! Why would you say that?"

She answered with a playful look and curious smile which showed me dimples in her cheeks. I secretly decided to discover if there were also dimples on her lower back, just above each sweetly rounded school girl butt cheek. You know why those dimples are there? That's where one places their thumbs for a better grip.

I leaned over the group of them, crouching slightly, and with deft hand work removed the dollar bill from my skirt pocket. I reached down with my right hand and touched the ground between lovely's Oxford shoe covered feet.

I brought my hand quickly back up, brushing lightly on her creamy calf and lifted the dollar bill up to her curious face. I could smell her hair, her baby powder scent and I suddenly was aware of a dirty-sweet sexiness I had not perceived from far away.

Eyes locked on hers, refusing to give ground and look away, I told her. "Look what you lost on the ground..... that's kinda sloppy."

She focused on the dollar and gasped, "Oh! I can't believe I did that! HA! Silly me!"

She then meekly took the dollar bill from my hand and murmured. "Thanks, I hate losing money."

I stood back up and said, "It does get expensive, Chelsea."

She pursed her lips. "How do you know my name?"

"It's on your little gold necklace." I told her while pointing to my own throat. I then gave her a pleased, closed lip smile.

She touched it with her fingers as though she had forgotten she was wearing it. "Oh, yeah... well.. right..... " She fumbled out.

"So I suppose your name is skull?" She said with a twinkle in her eye while referring to my own necklace made of coral shell which had a small skull and crossbones at the center of it.

"No, I'm Terra. Like terra forma." I said with amusement, as though I enjoyed the unusual jokes that might come with the name.

The blonde then said to me. "You're not going to beat us up, are you?"

I smirked at her, but in a friendly way and replied, "Now, why would I do that?"

The brunette across from her piped up, " 'Cause we're geeks!" Then they all giggled a little bit at the statement.

"I look tough because I've had to be. I didn't go to a nice comfy high school, or come from a traditional family. I wasn't taken care of. That doesn't make me violent, though." I told them with an even, studied attitude.

Chelsea responded almost immediately with a comforting, almost motherly tone and said, "No, she didn't mean anything personal, you have to believe that.... we just don't usually run into girls like you .... and you seem very different... that's all. No offense."

"Yeah, no offense." They all repeated.

I kept looking in those golden eyes and said, "You're a real sweetheart, Chelsea. And I'm not offended. I don't usually have chat sessions with 17 year old school girls either."

"Oh, we're all seniors!" The blonde offered. "We're graduating next month."

I looked at the blonde. "So, we're all seniors means....." I started, and then I looked over to Chelsea, ".... that we're all legal?" I could have said "eighteen", but legal seemed a bit more sexy and subtly suggestive.

They all giggled and blushed. "Yeah." The blonde responded, though I didn't look her way. "We're BARELY legal." Then she gave a muffled laugh as though trying to avoid giving away a secret.

I was suddenly aware of my physicality toward them like never before. I stood over them, before them, my thighs bare and my vest hanging to the sides of my breasts which poked nipples toward them from under a thin white t-shirt. With my hands on my hips, scanning them individually and lingering on Chelsea over and over, I felt I owned them. Princess phones and all. I took in a silent moment to let the feeling sink into them, if they had been so perceptive.

At that moment, the train slowed and began to pull into another terminal along the route. Having done this a number of times now, I knew it was Chelsea's stop. I decided I'd not over-do the introduction, and pull back my advance as though I didn't care about her attentions.

"This your stop?" I asked the group.

The train did stop and the crowd stood from their seats to leave before the rush of incoming riders would enter. The girls all grabbed book bags and purses.

"Yeah. We have to go. Nice to meet ya, Terra." Said the blonde as she stood to leave. The brunette repeated her friend's social nice-ity. Chelsea didn't say anything as she stood up and grabbed her things. But, I was acutely aware of her every move as I turned away to let them exit the subway seats and I backed against the door again.

"Yeah, you ladies pass those final exams, now." I reminded them.

They all went to exit ahead of Chelsea and as she was the last, I gently grabbed the end of her elbow and she turned to look at me with those amazing golden eyes.

I said, "Chelsea, do you like lions?"

She actually turned to face me when she responded. Pointing her breasts right at me. I took a deep breath and held it. She hadn't just smiled or laughed and kept moving toward the door with her friends. She had turned towards me.

She said, "You mean like the cats?"

I moved slightly toward her, closing the gap between us a bit, but not too much as to give her a reason to fear.

I said, "Exactly like the cats."

With the crowd and her friends disappearing out of the doors behind us, she replied, "I love lions! Especially the lioness.... she does it all. Has the babies and brings home the bacon."

I inhaled her heavenly breath, sweet and strawberry scented. Her lovely pink tongue danced before my lusting eyes behind straight white teeth and bee stung lips. I wanted to grab her there and now. Kiss her hard. Make her swoon like she never had considered in her whole teen age life. Swoon for me. Swoon for a tough biker chick in her mid-twenties who wanted to feel those hot, fresh thighs wrapped around my waist as she blossomed to a woman beneath me.

"You have eyes like a lion, Chelsea." I told her without breaking my gaze from her amazing eyes.

I knew the game: guy to guy, close, locked eye contact was a threat. But, for a female, intense focus was an arousal trigger. It was important that I not give in to doubt. I mustn't suddenly become nice and considerate of her position. I had to stay locked and aggressive on her no matter how she responded. My heart stopped beating in my chest in anticipation of her next move.

She lowered her eyes from my gaze and with a polite voice told me, "Look.... I'm not a lesbian...." and then she looked up at me sideways as though afraid to offend me.

"I'm not either." I told her without budging. "I still find you amazing."

I stood there waiting for her to run, my stopped heart hoping she wouldn't. The passengers had filled in the subway cab and we were moments away from the doors closing and Chelsea missing her stop.

She was a few inches shorter and stood almost a hands breath away from me now, but she didn't move away. Instead she just stood there frozen, studying my face with subtle curiosity.

The passengers forced us to move a bit backward against the front door and we were suddenly even closer. The doors closed and the subway began to pull away. I could hear her friends calling to her as the train accelerated. Neither one of us looked away from the other as the train took off again.

Surrounded by the passenger filled cab, almost face to face, I noticed Chelsea seemed transfixed upon me. I gently reached out and grabbed her chin with my thumb and forefinger and pulled her forward as I pressed my mouth to hers. She was warm and sweet. Her lips voluntarily parting for my tongue to intrude into her hot, young mouth.

At first she seemed to lift her hands to my shoulders as though to push me away, but they never did push. They simply held, and my heart sang as her body rose to meet me and she tongue kissed me back in return.

When we parted the kiss, we faced each other almost too closely to really make eye contact. I could see her lips were wet with my saliva. She breathed heavily as our beasts pressed together. She blushed and gushed.

"What....?" I said in a close whisper.

"I never do this.... kiss a complete stranger...."

"I'm sure." I told her with understanding. "Much less another girl, eh?"