Ellie's Erotic Exploration Ch. 01

The Friday evening train was crowded – as usual. Eleanor stood, feet shoulder-width apart, with one hand on the center pole, the other clutching her tablet. Her eyes locked on the screen as she read an erotic short story; unwinding on her way home. Until recently, she would have never dared to peruse such fare on the subway, but she'd finally relented reasoning that in New York City everyone minds their own business. And, even if they did notice, they wouldn't care.

With few friends in town, she had no weekend plans beyond getting to her apartment, stripping as she walked to the bathroom, and climbing into a hot shower. If past experience were any guide, she'd proceed to make herself cum several times. It wasn't much, but it was a routine, and she enjoyed it.

Stops passed, more people squeezed into the car, and bodies crushed against her. Instinctively, she glanced down to make sure her backpack remained between her sneaker-clad feet – her work heels were nestled inside the bag. As she returned to the story, a faint wisp of familiar cologne wafted to her nostrils. Despite the relative anonymity of a big city, one could not help but recognize the same faces, aromas, and accoutrements when being around them every day.

Thinking it might be Brian – a name she'd invented for a handsome man she often saw, and admired. She tried to pivot, but her shoulder bumped into someone's chest. Without turning her head, she offered a mumbled apology, and resumed thinking about her Mr. Right. She guessed him to be about 10 years older than her 30. Easily 6'3", he possessed a solid, muscular build. He kept his dark-brown hair cut short, and his mouth was partially hidden by a trimmed goatee. She often rubbed off while thinking of "Brian" dominating her with his size and will.

The train lurched into a curve, and the person behind leaned against her. He – it must be a man she thought – was significantly taller than her petite 5'7", and certainly heavier. A hand brushed her left hip, then moved away. Having lost count of the times she'd been groped – accidently or not – by fellow commuters, she didn't react. In some weird way, she relished the human contact – however brief.

Relocating her place in the story, she continued reading. She tended to prefer writers who went beyond the usual "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" of most erotica. Her favorites included an actual plot, even an arc that ran through several pieces. The female protagonist had just found herself in the position of surrendering to passion, or walking away – and though Ellie was sure which the woman would choose – the tale had drawn her in.

She scanned the text, and the train heaved again, jostling the passengers. A hand landed on her ass. It remained for a long moment – certainly more than incidental contact – then fell away. Ellie shook her head, but didn't turn to search for the offender.

Someone was getting a cheap thrill, she thought.

The ride smoothed out, and the car rocked back and forth gently. Ellie managed to skim another dozen lines before the hand returned, lingering this time. Fingers splayed wide, it cupped her left cheek. Unlike the previous contact, it did not retreat; as if waiting for an objection. Ellie raised her head, about to protest, when it shifted, sliding over her crack, and drifting downward.

For a moment, panic swept through her, but her voice caught in her throat. She quickly realized that she wasn't afraid. Despite the very real danger of harm, or scandal, there was no trace of fear in her. Rather, she was intrigued, even excited, by the risk; captivated by the sheer obscenity.

The days were growing shorter, and the weather had begun to change – though it wasn't yet cold enough to require a heavy jacket. Ellie rejoiced because it meant she could get away with wearing shorter skirts by layering them over leggings or tights which provided warmth. Today's selection – snug, bright red cotton – barely reached past mid-thigh. Her black and red tights were thin, and she could feel the heat of the large hand as it slipped between her legs just below the hem of her skirt.

Involuntarily, Ellie rose onto her tip-toes as the fingers slid upward. She forced herself to breathe, and waited, thinking they'd abandon her any second. Instead, they crept higher, brushing her pussy through the pink cotton thong she wore. For an inexplicable instant, her brain fixated on the fact that she'd chosen matching underwear this morning. The thought disappeared as the fingers wiggled back and forth roughly, and pleasure raced through her senses.

Ellie's head tilted back, but she caught herself, looked around surreptitiously, and willed herself to concentrate on the tablet; trying to act as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Her mind raced. She knew she should run away, or say something; whirl around; confront the pervert, and put a stop to this. But, she didn't. In fact, her left foot edged outward another inch; further spreading her legs, allowing him greater access to her wetness. The bold intruder didn't hesitate; his forefinger found her clit, and the thumb nestled against her asshole.

"Oh, God," she sighed, almost silently.

An idea floated through the fog of bliss shrouding her brain. She often used the reflection in the subway car window to stay safe; regularly checking behind her, without seeming to be doing so. Now, trying to identify her molester, she lifted her hazel eyes. Finding her view blocked by the mass of people, she leaned left and right in search of a gap. Spotting her bottle-blonde ponytail – she'd put up her shoulder-length hair before leaving the office – she tried to focus on those around her.

A man stood close. She thought it could be "Brian," though light, the angle, and dirt distorted the view; not allowing enough detail to make out his face. He was wearing a suit, and she thought he had a beard. Her breathing quickened as the fingers manipulated her button. Her mouth dropped open, and she lowered her head, hoping if anyone glanced in her direction they'd assume she was reading. Her entire body quivered as she tightened her grip on the pole.

Her assailant increased the speed and force of his efforts. Ellie struggled to remain standing as her knees threatened to buckle. Awash in ecstasy, her mind tried to challenge the insanity of the situation. Intellect screamed that she was standing in a subway car, being fingered by some anonymous deviant she couldn't even see. In stark contrast, her libido relished the delicious vulgarity of what was happening. She arched her hips slightly, pushing back toward her unidentified partner.

"Yessss," she hissed through gritted teeth.

The familiar ache growing between her legs announced an approaching orgasm. For a fleeting coherent moment, Ellie worried her unsteady legs might collapse. But, then she imagined she could hear the squishing sound coming from her damp panties, and any chance at rational thought was lost. Her body tensed, like a spring wound tighter and tighter. Lids shut firmly, she fought to suppress a cry as the tidal wave of rapture slammed into her. The release rocked her; she shuddered, her manicured nails clawing at the metal.

As she came, Ellie abandoned any pretense of reading. Her left hand fell, and she almost dropped her tablet as she trembled. Thankfully, the other passengers – all but one, of course – remained immersed in their individual bubbles of ignorance. She'd seen people – always men – masturbating, and others doing even worse things in public, and though horrified, she'd shrugged and muttered, but done nothing more than scoot away. Usually, at least. Admittedly, on more than one occasion, she'd remained close enough to watch the men shoot their cum. Now, however, if anyone on the train knew what was happening – what was being done to her – they didn't show it.

Ellie wasn't considering all this as she came. Her entire consciousness had shrunk to the feeling of those thick fingers rubbing her holes. The violation didn't cease. He had to know she'd cum, but his fingers relentlessly worked her flesh through the fabric of her underwear and tights. Twisting her neck, she peeked over her shoulder.

"Brian" stood behind her. He wasn't looking at her; seemingly engrossed in a folded copy of the Times. The fingers continued moving, but Mr. Right gave no indication he realized she existed, and the motion of the train made it impossible to tell if his other hand was involved in anything more mischievous than playing pocket pinball.

She came again, thighs clenching, trapping his hand for a second, before he yanked it free. Ellie couldn't prevent the rapid departure as she gasped for air, trying to restrain the glorious energy ripping through her. Her body shook, and she quashed a moan...or thought she did.

The electric current of euphoria diminished gradually, and Ellie's eyes re-opened fully. A few feet away, an older woman stood, examining her face.

"Are you OK, dear?" she asked, quietly.

Ellie blushed.

"Allergies," she stammered. "I think someone's perfume is making my allergies act up."

The woman nodded and tsk-tsked as the train slowed to enter Ellie's station.

"Well, not the worst thing you can smell down here," she whispered with a wink.

"This is my stop," Ellie said, as the doors opened. "Fresh air will clear it up."

Grabbing her pack, she gave a small wave, and, her cheeks still crimson, exited the car on uncertain legs. She managed to avoid staggering across the platform, though climbing the stairs to the darkened street required great effort, and she pulled herself upward by grasping the railing.

"I can do this," she said, trying to assure herself.

Her panties and tights were soaked, and she felt a chill as the wind blew up her skirt. The sensation increased her excitement – not that she needed help on that account. Ellie was as horny as she'd ever been in her life. Cumming twice, in public, by the hand of a stranger, had ignited a fire. Every movement made her underwear rub against her, and she was already on the verge of exploding again.

Taking small steps, and making her way around the crowds on the sidewalk, it took Ellie nearly 10 minutes to reach her building. She greeted the doorman as she breezed past, too embarrassed to even look at him, and let out a thankful sigh when the elevator door opened immediately. Doing discreet Kegel exercises, she rode upward. Glancing at the small smoke-colored bubble in the ceiling of the lift, she resisted the urge to touch herself.

"I've showed off enough for one day," she murmured, with smirk.

Arriving at her apartment, she set down her things, then spun to close and lock the door. Without further delay, she leaned against the heavy wood. Her hands sped to her crotch, and she rubbed herself several times. Her mouth fell open and she let out the moan she'd been suppressing. The sound reverberated along the hallway leading to her living room. Before her cry died away, her hands crawled under the skirt, and inside her panties – the right in front, the left behind. Fingers entered both holes simultaneously, and her body jerked violently.

"Fuuuuck," she grunted fiercely as she came.

Her knees almost gave out as the orgasm exploded through her senses. Ellie didn't cease her efforts, forcing her fingers even deeper, and grinding her clit against the heel of her palm.

"Yes," she howled. "That's it!"

Ellie's vocalizations grew louder, and her breath labored, as she twitched.

"Don't stop, Brian," she begged. "Please, don't stop."

Her cheek pressed against the door, she came again. This time, she lost the battle with gravity. Her knees bent and she slid downward. Gingerly, she pulled her fingers from her holes, and lowered herself to the floor, lying on her stomach. Bringing her right hand to her mouth, she stuck out her tongue and tasted her juices. She licked her fingers clean as she recovered, letting her heart rate and breathing return to normal.

The lull didn't last long. Ellie rolled onto her side. Her thoughts turned to the bag of tricks in her nightstand. For a while, she debated; trying to decide between falling asleep there in the entranceway, and getting up to drag herself to the bedroom. The heat between her legs determined her course of action.

With great effort, she rose, picked up her belongings, and trudged toward the bedroom. Without turning on the lights, she toed off her shoes, unzipped the skirt, and pushed it, her tights, and panties to her ankles. Kicking away the garments, Ellie unbuttoned the blouse, let it slip over her shoulders, and tossed it to the bed.

Reaching behind, she unhooked her bra, freeing her perky 32B breasts. Ellie let it fall to the floor, and exhaled – a long satisfied sigh. Now naked, she sauntered over to the window. The curtains were open and she gazed out at the lights of The City. A crazy notion entered her brain. Smiling, she stepped forward, touching her hard nipples to the pane. Surprised by the cold, she gasped and retreated a bit, but then giggled, and forced herself back to the glass.

Ellie enjoyed the feeling for a few moments, then pulled away, and padded off to the bathroom. Leaning in the dark-marble shower stall, she turned the single handle, and watched water flow from the showerhead. After adjusting the temperature, she closed the door, lit several candles around the room, then returned to her bedside. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she grabbed her silver bullet vibrator. Ellie stopped, catching sight of the suction cup on the base of her blood-red jelly dildo. She considered the phallus for a moment, then lifted it. The shaft was eight inches long, and slightly more than an inch in diameter. Before closing the drawer, she scooped up a bottle of lubricant.

"Party time," she sang out, performing an impromptu dance on the way back to the bathroom.

As steam rose toward the ceiling, Ellie tugged the door, and placed her toys on the narrow tile ledge surrounding the stall. She tested the water with her fingers. Satisfied, she stepped in, letting the spray pelt her skin. It cascaded over her torrid flesh as she wet her hair. A small moan passed her lips, and she remained nearly motionless for several minutes, letting her muscles relax.

Her tension washed away, Ellie grabbed the dildo, smacking the bottom down on the tile at the back of the tub. It stuck securely. The shaft lolled over, and she took a moment to admire it. Lifting the lube, she flipped open the top, and squeezed, creating rivulets of goo which oozed down the red latex. Before closing the lid, she drizzled some of the viscous liquid on the fingers of her right hand.

Twisting slightly, she reached back to rub them between the cheeks of her ass, then delicately poked one into her hole, slipping it in and out several times before removing it. Taking hold of the toy, she held it steady and scooted backward until it touched her cheeks. Guiding it deliberately, she squatted, and the end pressed against her asshole. Her eyes screwed shut as she lowered herself, letting the tip enter her.

"Oh, God," she gasped as her sphincter closed around the head.

She paused for a few moments, enjoying the feeling; painful and pleasurable at the same time. Ellie began slowly moving up and down, riding the dildo; each time taking a little more; gradually impaling herself on the toy; wiggling her hips, until she'd worked the entire length into her rectum. By the time her taint rested on the fake balls, she was gasping for breath. Her chest heaved, and legs trembled.

"I knew I could do it, baby," she cooed, her head hanging forward.

Squinting, she examined the vibrator.

"Three's cum-pany," she declared.

Grinning at the pun, Ellie picked up the shiny device, turned the base, and it began to hum softly. She dragged it over her erect nipples, then descended, crossing her abdomen. Though she expected the imminent stimulation, when it touched her clit, she came, shuddering as lightning bolts of pleasure ripped through every nerve. A guttural sob escaped Ellie's throat, echoing off the glass, and she nearly doubled over; blindly clawing for the stainless steel safety bar to steady herself.

"More," she pleaded, breathlessly.

Her hands shaking, she nudged the vibe inside herself. The action extended her delirium, and she pushed it deeper, relishing the feeling of having both holes filled so completely.

"Shiiiiiit," she stuttered. "I'm cumming again."

In truth, Ellie couldn't be sure if she were actually climaxing again, or if she was experiencing one continuing, intense orgasm. Of course, in her current state, she didn't care. Her convulsions intensified, and she released the vibe to place her hand on the glass. Closing her legs, she tried to hold the buzzing toy inside her, increasing the ecstasy coursing through her.

She mumbled a stream of incoherent words as she wilted, her fingers leaving trails on the clouded glass as they slid downward. Her knees parted, and the vibrator inexorably slipped from her cunt, falling to the tile at the bottom of the stall. Weakly, she pulled herself upward, allowing the dildo to exit her anus. She let out a small yelp when it left her.

For a moment, she crouched, clutching the safety bar. Then, sensing her legs lacked the strength to stand, she cautiously sank to the floor. Intoxicated, she lost track of how long she laid there, the hot water raining down on her while she twitched; aftershocks still rocking her exhausted body. Gradually, she recovered; her breathing and heart rate slowed. A thought formed in her cum-drunk mind.

"If I have a heart attack here, they'll find me naked, in the shower, with sex toys," she muttered.

She laughed out loud.

"At least they'll know I went with a smile on my face," she offered the misty air.

Without looking, she stretched an arm upward, seeking the water knob. Finding it, at last, she twisted, and the spray died away.

"Well, that's a start," she said, mocking her own effort.

Ellie lost track of time as she remained on the wet floor. Finally gathering the will to get up, she stepped from the stall, and dried herself. After thoroughly wringing out her hair, she wrapped a fresh towel around her head. Naked otherwise, she cleaned her toys before taking baby steps back to the bedroom.

Dropping the dildo, vibrator, and lube into the drawer, Ellie decided she needed to sleep. Sans pajamas, or even underwear, Ellie crawled under the covers. Her mind refused to quiet down. Instead, it focused on Brian, and the events on the train. And, what might happen Monday. The possibilities excited her, and she felt a growing tingle between her legs.

"No," she groaned in the darkness. "Bad pussy! Down girl."

It didn't help.