Four Days on the Paris Metro

She was wearing the same outfit. The same regions of her body were exposed but now I was given full view of her front. Her eyes allowed me to take a break and I perused her body. Her toned stomach with the faint outline of muscle, her petite breasts, curving upwards and with her hard, tiny nipples visible through the thin black fabric. It was hot again today. A single, lonely pearl of sweat formed somewhere near her throat and rolled down to disappear between her firm tits. I craved to extend my tongue and taste it.

The train began its arduous journey south across the Seine. I didn't know what to do - how could I - and so I merely let her eyes bore into my mine to invade the pleasure centre of my brain. What did she have in store for me?

There was a space between us, paper thin, but a space nonetheless. My left hand rested on the wall, supporting my bulk. I looked down at her, she seemed shorter, more petite today and I felt like a virile giant towering over her. I completely blocked all sight of her from the others in the carriage. They had no idea a young vixen was present, staring at her unlikely prey. Her hands were behind her back and her hips were thrust out. A coquettish position only betrayed by her narrowed eyes that shielded me from the intentions in her head.

I stood dumbly awaiting her move. It came after a long while in which she seemingly contemplated what game to play, which direction to take, which pleasure to indulge.

Her hands appeared. With her delicate fingers she took hold of my free hand. She folded three fingers and my thumb down so that only my middle finger remained erect. She raised my mini-cock to her lips - those lips - and ever so slowly let it slide onto her tongue. She suckled it gently at first then moved her head slightly back and forth, blowing my finger like a little boy's cock. Indeed, I felt like a boy at the back of the school ground, with a far more experienced girl leading the way. I followed dutifully.

She sucked my finger a little more then withdrew it. She nodded once. The meaning of it escaped me until she revealed what she wanted. She turned to face the wall. One hand with those long fingers and perfect nails supported her body while the other did the unthinkable. The gloriously unexpected. It went behind her and raised the hem of her wrap-around skirt. I looked down, dumbfounded, at the sight of her hard, tight ass, bared to me and me alone in the tightly-packed carriage of a Line 12 train. No knickers to be seen. My middle finger remained extended and I soon put two and two together. Her unspoken desire become glaringly apparent. I obliged.

My hand fell slowly towards her round buttocks. My finger now a definitive cock, angry, hungry, inquisitive. I knew without knowing how I knew. It went under her ass and entered the wafer-thin crevice between her cheeks out of my line of vision. My sense of touch took over. It wriggled gently but insistently and she pressed back to meet it and I felt her body shift so her legs were spread to accommodate my invading finger.

In it went. Squeezing between her flesh. In it went, quickly enveloped by her body heat. Hot to the touch. In it went until I suddenly made contact. My mind reeled when I realised where the tip of my middle finger had ended up.

A place I had never imagined I would ever experience. In the scope of my sexual experience it was a place that had never figured on any map. A forbidden zone reserved for perverts and porn stars.

And now I was there. The ridges of my fingerprint felt like a chain of mountains down there. It was moist, musky. Dirty in the most erotic way imaginable. Rivers of her sweat flowed through the canyons between those mountains. This universe, and any other, dissipated in an erotic fog. I couldn't see if I tried, the whole world was a blur, a smudge, an aberration. Only the tip of my middle finger touching her there, right there, existed in brilliant clarity.

I heard her moan, louder than yesterday, followed by a gasp as I did what came naturally and began to probe her puckered asshole. The folds of her flesh surrounding her hole were accentuated and I swear I could feel her heartbeat in the veins within. I moved my finger in circles and sensed an urgency in myself, mirrored in her. Her sweat and musk were lubricants and when I felt those muscles push outwards, my finger slid inside. Inside her asshole. Inside the place from where she shits. Rapid-fire thoughts, dirty, disgusting thoughts and I revelled in the freedom of being able to think them for the first time in my sad, tired life.

One knuckle, two knuckles, moving it in circles, eagerly seeking the depths of her bowels. Pushing onwards, my other fingers splayed against her ass. Inside of her. All the way. My middle finger up her ass as far as it could go. I stopped and savoured the moment. She was breathing harder now. I couldn't see her face but I knew she was biting her lip again.

I somehow knew what to do next. I began to withdraw - a moan of disappointment from her - then in again. Beginning a fucking motion. It was what she wanted. But it wasn't enough. In a flash, one hand whipped around and grabbed my supporting hand, desperately thrusting it around her front, up under her skirt to make instant contact with the luxurious folds of her young vagina. Hairless. Not a single hair. All shaved. So smooth.

But suddenly I was not supporting myself. Until her hand flew up and supported herself against the wall. She now supported both our bodies, a seemingly incredible feat as I pressed hard against her, counterbalancing against the rocking of the carriage.

One finger up her ass, the other hand flattened against her vagina... no... her cunt. That's what I've heard it called before and that is the appropriate word. My fingers busied themselves in their new playground. She was wet, so wet, and my fingers roamed with ease. I slid a finger inside, I fondled her labia and spread her juice so it coated her entirely.

I found her clit. Even I knew of clitoris. Even my wife used to have one. I found it with ease, it protruded rudely from it's hood and begged for my touch. I obliged. With the base of my palm I massaged it, gently, roughly, gently, while my fingers stimulated her hole. Her cunt. She was impossibly tight, as tight as her asshole it seemed to me.

She grew feverish. My stop was approaching. I was sure the city council had moved entire neighbourhoods overnight in order to torture me. Moving my stop closer.

I fucked her asshole with intensity now. Still careful not to make too many movements that would attract attention. On her cunt, my fingers withdrew and began concentrate on her clit. Flicking it wildly. Her juice flowing continuously to lubricate my efforts. I soon felt her lithe body tense, in waves at first, and then she went rigid as she came on my hand, her sphincter almost breaking my finger in two. Her thighs pressing together with a great force.

She came and none too soon. The train was rolling to a screeching halt at Montparnasse. Reluctantly, she relaxed her thighs and ass and released my hands. She straightened up and I followed suit. She turned to me. I smiled. She didn't return it. Again, no expression, just those wild eyes but now accompanied by a panting mouth. She nodded once.

As I turned to leave, she glanced down at my cock, all too visible against my trousers. She spotted my handkerchief jutting out of my pocket and snatched it quickly. She reached out and gave my cock a hard, steady squeeze. That was enough. I didn't see it coming. Jism erupted suddenly and she held my cock tight until I finished the sudden intense orgasm. As though she command me to cum with a single touch. Such was her power over me.

My handkerchief now disappeared between her legs to mop up her own cum and I was carried away by the crowd.

DAY THREE - ADDENDUM

I fucked my cock with my hand in the toilet, no longer caring for making a mess, just eager to see my seed fly out and ooze down the wall. I fucked my cock with my hand four times that day and twice that night, including a quick fucking of my wife. I fucked my cock, stopping frequently to smell her saltysweet sex on my fingers and with my middle finger on the other hand under my nose, inhaling the musky aroma of her sweat and shit. I needed to cum. I penetrated my own asshole twice, to feel her pleasure, and came harder than ever.

DAY FOUR

Again. In the corner. Urgency now. I assumed my position in front of her. The same wrap-around skirt, the same black halter-top. I pressed hungrily against her, shielding from the prying eyes of others on the train. Her eyes unchanging. Narrowed, intense. More so today, it seemed, but that could be my own perception.

My hands on the walls in the corner, leaning in to her. Hotter than ever today. Aware of my own stench, having forgotten to take a bath for two days. Sweat dripping down my flabby flesh. Craving this young thing. Thrilled at whatever she had to offer today.

The doors weren't even closed before she showed me. Lifting her skirt to show me. She was wearing sheer black nylon knickers. Her bald, oozing cunt erotically visible through the fabric. I was disappointed but only for a second until, as if by magic, a black dildo appeared in her hand. Her eyes remained fixed on mine as I watched her pull her knickers to one side. A flash of pure, smooth cunt lips and protruding clit. She positioned the dildo at the opening to her hole and proceeded to impale herself on it. She was already wet, I could see. It disappeared up into that tight, wet piece of heaven and stretched her wide. She twisted the base and it began to hum faintly. She twitched and gasped inaudibly. She replaced her knickers to hold the cock in let her skirt fall.

There was no pause. She reached for my cock and deftly unzipped me, pulled my underpants down and released my pulsing shaft into the humid air of the carriage. It was the most filthy, disgusting, liberating, fantastic sight of my life, seeing my own cock wave rigidly about in that very public space.

Her hands got busy. Her fingers wrapped around my girth. Lightly, like feathers or clouds. But only at first, because the poetry was soon left behind. She started stroking me from base to head, using both sweating hands, tightly clenched like a cunt and tighter than any cunt. She pulled and pulled my cockmeat, squeezing so hard it hurt and such a pleasurable pain was amazing.

I was watching her hands on my cock. I saw her hips rotating in small circles, urging the vibrating cock on. I looked up. Her face expressionless, her eyes piercing but now her jaw was clenched. Her teeth visible through her lips. Urgency.

I reached out and pinched a nipple hard, rolling it roughly between thumb and forefinger and this pleased her. My cockhead was bulbous with her squeezing. Every vein on my shaft overflowing with blood.

She wanted me to cum. I knew that. And I wanted it, too. I needed it.

It built up slowly in the nether regions of my heavy balls. She sensed it and one hand went down to caress them, squeeze them, egg them on. The other hand a blur on my shaft. My stomach hanging over my belt rose and fall with my rapid breathing. My fingers pinching her nipple now, constant.

My breath caught in my throat suddenly. My mouth widened and eyes popped out. She knew. She disappeared in a flash, squatting down in front of my cock. Her timing was perfect. Just as her hot, little mouth engulfed my cock head, the first rope of cum shot out onto her tongue. She bobbed her head quickly up and down and jacked the base as I came in her mouth, each spurt slamming into the back of her throat.

I came hard and she swallowed every drop. As soon as I was finished, she was up on her feet again and tucking my half-hard cock back into my pants and zipping me up. In a flash.

We stood there, staring at each other. She took out the black dildo, switched it off and slid it into my suit pocket, still wet with her cunt juice. My handkerchief appeared out of nothing - the one from yesterday - and she held it under my nose. I inhaled. I inhaled her, all of her.

She tucked that into my pocket, too. We were far from my stop, only a little over halfway. The train rumbled into a station and stopped and, too my surprise, she kissed me quick on the lips and moved out into the masses and let them carry her away from me. Out of the door and gone. Leaving me there, alone.

I never saw her again.

DAY FOUR - ADDENDUM

I carry that handkerchief with me everywhere, carefully folded in a plastic bag. Her musk, her saltysweet sweat, her cunt and ass juices, they remain pungent. I smell her every day. I jack off less now, but still twice a day. Slower, savouring her memory.

I look for her on every Metro, but she is gone.