Handjob on the Commuter Train

I touched his elbow, and started a vague and long, drawn-out sentence, "...so what you're saying..." My recap of what he said was all wrong and all off, so he started explaining again. I knew it would take him some time, and when she came back of the house, she would see me touching him. When I was sure she was looking, I touched the middle of his chest as a conversation acknowledgment.

"Mike!" she yelled.

He barked back, "I said I'll be right there!"

Oh, he clearly did not want to leave my yard. I grinned and he didn't know why.

He repeated half of his explanation again and then I interrupted, projecting an understanding.

"Mike, can you get the litter?" she called again, on her last load of groceries.

"Be there in a minute," he was starting to sound impatient with her. Looking at her, I straightened up. He frowned when he was replying to her, but went back to smiling when he returned to our conversation. Who wouldn't be impatient, being pulled away from a young dumb blonde in the prime of her life. Obviously, that was a good moment for me to make sure her chain yanked his neck hard. I adjusted my tits through my shirt.

"Well I've taken too much of your time," I said, then nodded toward his wife's car, "you have better things to take care of" and winked at him playfully, mouth open in a grin. He rolled his eyes at his wife's direction, confirming his displeasure with her, making it a secret conversation of ours. Before he left, I asked him, "could I bug you about my planters sometime later?"

"Of course, it would be my pleasure!"

...

Next day at work, the instructor would not make eye contact with me. And he did something bizarre. He brought a colleague with him for the lecture, and explained he'll also be attending for the remaining duration of the course. I must have really worried him with my playful comment, because he was covering his ass and ensuring there was a witness to all conversations. After all, if I went psycho, who'd believe him over a young petite woman? It amused me to no end but I couldn't fuck with him anymore by even flashing him some panties, since we had a babysitter now.

Just to ruin any credibility he may have had, I stopped going to bathroom to masturbate. I didn't know what he told anyone about me, and I was always careful. Over the next few weeks it seemed to make him more nervous, and, ... without constant releases, it made me hornier. Almost uncontrollably, but being in control of my narrative was important to me.

...

Mike came over to my front yard several times a week to advise me on planter boxes. He didn't seem to think they'd belong in front of my house, but I ignored his advice, wanting an audience. His wife stared at us and was visibly disgusted with him fawning over me, but she couldn't say anything to him being neighborly.

While she looked from afar, I dropped down to my knees right in front of him and anywhere else it would be construed as beyond obscene, but I was supposedly feeling the soil hardness and speculating what was underneath it and how deep it was so my body language could be interpreted a couple of different ways depending on where you stood. From looking at his bulge, I think I understood how he saw it with me on my knees right in front of him. I bent down to dig a bit of soil and as I explored, I shifted my body to one side. My shoulder was on the border of escaping my shirt. He was getting a nice view of my cleavage, and one of my nipples was on the verge of slipping out into his view.

"Mike, can you help me lift the mulch?" she yelled at him and he scrambled to do just that.

When he came back, I noticed a change. From that moment onward, he was bringing his tools with him, holding them in front like some kind of a shield. He was subtly trying to physically distance himself from me. That meant my plan was working and his wife minded him spending so much time that close to me, and he knew she cost him seeing some titty.

Good.

...

One very late evening the train was unusually crowded and again there were no available seats. When I finally spotted one, it was occupied by a businessman's travel bag. He was distracted and oblivious to the crowded conditions, sitting in an occluded rear seat in a row across from an equipment cabinet.

I pulled my earlier stunt of sliding over his knees, setting his bag on the floor in front of him. A normal person would have apologized or acknowledged being that selfish, but this guy didn't even acknowledge me. He just stared at his phone all the same. He must've been going to the airport because his bag had a few airline tags on it.

The train moved slowly, and despite his eyes being on his phone, I could tell he was paying attention to me because his eyes were frozen on the screen. He must've become aware of his bag-on-the-seat faux pas and was deciding whether to say something. His eyes weren't moving to read anything. When I stretched my skirt, his eyes wandered right between my legs. I was just bored and fucking with him, but I was also playfully horny from being a good girl at work for so long.

When I touched his leg with mine, he didn't pull back. If anything, I soon noticed a bulge sticking unnaturally outward, or trying to escape his crotch. I moved the purse to my left and sat closer to him. He still didn't flinch, staying his ground. Was it a challenge? Ignoring a rude girl? How could I make him fetch?

He nearly jumped when I put my hand on his leg. He turned to face me, visibly alarmed.

"Excuse me, could you throw this away for me?" I asked, handing him a receipt I fished out of my purse.

"Uh, sure, of course." He took the piece of garbage and slowly got up, walking to the middle of the train. As he was coming back, I noticed he had taken his jacket off and was holding it in front of him. As he sat down, I could see why. His boner was bulging obscenely through his pants and he was hiding it.

His folded jacket was over his leg this time, protecting it. Taking that as a challenge, I spread my legs to touch his knee with mine and said, "Thanks, you are very sweet." As I did this, I smiled at him and put my hand back on his leg, under the jacket and patted it awkwardly for a few seconds.

He smiled warmly at me and replied, "You're very welcome." The nervousness in his voice was telling. Had he ever been cornered like this by a beautiful predator? Was he going to say he was sorry for leaving his bag on a seat?

Just to make sure I threw him off balance, I didn't take my hand away for a few more seconds. When I did, his eyes flicked nervously from side to side and he tried to lose himself in his phone. Our legs were still touching and he made no attempt to move away. He was so pathetic.

As the airport station stop came up, he reached down for his bag but then paused and stopped himself. The train was slowing down. His eyes shifted nervously and you could see the gears turning slowly in his mind. Hope? Lure of an adventure? It was so obviously his stop, but he hesitated. He reached for his bag and grabbed the handle this time, but still didn't try to get up off the seat. Nearly everyone else did. The train came to a complete stop and he was still holding it. Few seconds later, he let go of the handle and sighed quietly. Within a minute, the train started moving again, empty seats surrounding us.

"Did you just miss your station?" I asked him.

He didn't immediately reply but kept staring straight ahead. Finally, he admitted as much.

"Yes."

He didn't know where any of this was going and I felt a sense of power over him, screwing him over. This was exactly the point of being a beautiful tease, exuding confidence and breaking people's resolve. Doing it made me horny and though I knew it was wrong I loved feeling full of myself.

"Good," I said cruelly, and got up off the seat.

He stared in disbelief as I crawled over him and reached to get my purse. Saying nothing else I walked off. At the end of the car I stood and waited for my station, playing with my phone. With the corner of my eye I could see his head turning to look at me from time to time, probably wondering what the hell just happened to him. The train slowed down and came to a full stop at my station. He watched me walk out and just as I stepped out, I laughed in glee and headed for the underpass tunnel.

But just then something crept up and stabbed at my conscience. I stopped walking and just thought for a second and realized I felt bad about what I had just done. He might miss his flight. Without thinking, I turned around and walked right back in the train before the doors closed. Why did I do that? He was still in his seat, looking down at his bag. Frozen in indecision, kicking himself for horribly misreading an opportunity, for what I just did to him. He put his jacket on and settled in the seat. The doors closed and the train started moving again, and I just stood there and watched him in fascination. I felt bad for him and was eerily horny. Why? What was I going to do?

This time he was surprised and jumped a little as I crawled back over him to my still warm seat.

"You should at least get something out of this," I said to him huskily when I settled in. He said nothing. He didn't know what to say. What could he say? What if he said the wrong thing? Why was I here?

Better yet, what the hell was I doing? My hand landed on his leg and stroked it, then unbelievably slid over onto his crotch, all on its own. He stared at my face in puzzlement but being in this unknown territory I couldn't look him in the eye so I looked down and stared at the slowly forming bulge and stroked it gently to life. He nervously looked around and started breathing hard. Oddly enough despite being permanently horny to a point of devaluing it, I started feeling genuine excitement mixed with fear. It felt like he had a nice thick cock and ...

... and then something terrifying possessed me and I let go of it and spread my legs wide, reached under my skirt and pulled my panties off slowly side to side while he watched. As I was stashing them in my purse, he took his jacket off and put it over his lap again. He alternated between staring at my legs and looking around nervously. I lifted the top of my skirt and showed him my shaved pussy, grinning widely. Guess that was an invitation. He clumsily reached over with his left hand and touched it, rubbing it gently. I raised my left leg and rested it on a bulkhead cover so he had better access. I was very wet apparently. While he did that, I put my hand under his jacket and continued stroking his bulge - it had gotten harder!

One of my fingers slipped into his zipper, trying to dislodge it but I didn't manage to make much progress by myself. His hand felt good on my pussy and despite being a constant cocktease, I didn't get touched much. Curse of a beautiful woman is that people are terrified of you, which perversely I enjoyed very much. When would I have time for social life? His right hand slipped under his jacket and helped me with the zipper. I put my hand over his and encouraged him lovingly as he unzipped. Then I reached in and tried to free his cock, but the angle was all wrong and his underwear was in the way. He looked around and then fished it out for me.

When I put my hand on it, he stopped breathing for a few seconds. His cock was nice and thick and warm. As I stroked it, his other hand continued rubbing my pussy. He must not have done this very often because he didn't go for the clit, instead he was just teasing me by rubbing my slit around in circles. He was wearing a wedding band and seeing it almost slip inside my pussy made me hornier. I gripped his cock firmly and started giving him a nice slow handjob. It was the least I could do for being such a bitch to him earlier.

The conductor started walking through the far side of the car toward us and we had to pause and cover up, but as soon as he was gone through the vestibule, I reached under my shirt and took off my bra, fishing the straps out through my sleeves. I unbuttoned two top buttons of my shirt and put the bra in my purse. Then, I turned right to face him and switched to my left hand, giving him a better handjob. He picked up his bag off the floor and put it on his right knee to block the view from the isle, and so I slid the jacket off his lap. His meat looked nice and thick and as I was stroking it up and down, I was thinking how I wanted to suck it. But that'd be crazy and I was always careful, so I wasn't going to. But I did get hornier thinking about it. Curse of a beautiful girl.

He clumsily reached through the top of my shirt and started fondling my tits. That was what the unbuttoning invitation was for after all. His greedy hand running under my soft tits and groping them made me feel even hornier. There was no time - at any moment someone could turn around or walk in and see us. All he had was stolen moments of my tits, and he made the best of it.

After a minute and for no reason, I looked around to make sure no one was watching and then without thinking lowered my head close to his lap and stroked his cock faster. His hand slipped out of my shirt and he put it over my ass, or whatever part he could reach and fondled it. It felt good being touched by him. Hand on an ass implied ownership. All I could see was his hard cock and I knew I wasn't myself anymore.

Feeling almost sick to my stomach with excitement, I switched hands and put my tongue at the base of his cock and licked it while thinking to myself, "Stop, no, no no, don't do that!" I didn't know thoughts could sound like a scream. I was scared of what I was spontaneously doing and my heart was beating fast from nervousness. The train rattled as it went through a rough patch of track.

His cock was hairy and throbbing and inviting so I put my lips over the base and kissed it while stroking. Despite being out of my mind, I knew it was at least safe to do this much, since it was dry and right by his hidden balls. Why didn't he pull them out too? I licked and kissed and sucked a bit of skin on the bottom inch of his cock while I stroked and his breathing was becoming ragged. The accidental slurping sound I made sounded too loud but it made my pussy twitch with eagerness. I was drooling and really wanted to suck it but couldn't do that, so I did the next best thing. I put my wet lips firmly on the base of his shaft and slid them over his cock side to side, to him that being up and down, while I jerked him slowly. Against my will, my lips kept traveling further up toward the middle of his cock and I was worried that I'd get carried away and start sucking it like a whore.

Luckily, he saved me from myself by blowing his load all over my hand.

He was sweet and gave me a warning - more of a caution that I might want to stop. Such a gentleman. Instead of stopping, I glued my lips to the base of his thick cock and flicked my tongue firmly over it and stroked harder. At that weird angle, I looked him in the eyes and silently mouthed "cum for me." Then, I stuck my wide tongue out and slowly licked his shaft up and down while stroking, our eyes still locked. Once, I almost reached as high as his head and had to remember to simmer down so I put my lips back on it as low as they would go. While kissing it I sucked his skin hard and pressed my tongue against it firmly. His greedy hand was squeezing my ass hard and fondling it like he owned it.

Soon he whispered a trembling "Oh god," took his hand off my ass and cupped it protectively above his cock so he wouldn't make a huge mess of his suit. Reading his intention correctly, I replaced his hand with my other one, cupped and ready for the eventuality. I kept kissing the base of his cock while stroking it. He put his hand back under my skirt, gripping my ass hard, and then started orgasming. I made another slurping sound as I moved my mouth off it to watch.

He came hard, in multiple spurts and I barely caught all his warm cum in my hands. It was so exciting and nasty watching his cock throb and shoot out, especially realizing what I had just done - jerked off a complete stranger on a commuter train. The thrill of getting caught made me feel alive. His greedy hand was grabbing my ass hard as he came, one finger resting in the fold of my ass nearly reaching my pussy, and I wished regretfully that I had more courage. A solitary thought was arcing between wires in my brain, nearly catching on fire.

Had he tried to finger my asshole at the last minute, I would've put his cock deep in my mouth and swallowed his cum. With his finger resting there, I wasn't thinking it, I knew it, and it was so fucked-up.

So, I was somewhat glad I didn't get that carried away with a total fucking stranger. I looked around and over the noise of the train it seemed no one else had heard or seen a thing after all. Carefully I reached into my purse, dripping cum over both it and the floor, and grabbed my panties. Using them, I cleaned up my hands and wiped his deflating cock clean, and then left them resting over his crotch. A nice pretty blue color, all soaked with cum, smelling like my honeyed pussy and perfume. I grabbed my purse and started leaving the seat, facing him this time. He lowered his bag so I could pass.

Climbing out, I briefly paused and said, "Don't forget me."

While he stared, I walked out of that train car and got off at the next stop. I took an Uber to the station that I overshot fifteen minutes ago. While I was being driven, I wondered if I should have invited him to share a car to the airport. If he hadn't missed his flight already, I would have made him miss it. We could've walked across the street to the pharmacy, bought condoms, taken a cab ride to my car and then fucked in my back seat. It was a missed opportunity.

Fuck, I was so incredibly horny. I needed to get fucked soon. The thought of a half-fulfilled spontaneity gave me such a rush. It was so crazy and scary and exciting and I lost that high fast. What I did was so insane.

...

Feeling mellow I skipped gardening and my mind games for a while and reflected on what happened. Behaving at work and behaving at home did some good for me and recharged my batteries. Hydrangeas withered because I stopped watering them and my garden was looking sad. By next week I was down to my usual mischievous self. Mrs. Weaver was watching her husband like a hawk so I forced myself to confront her. I walked over to their yard and started small talk.

"Hi guys, your yard is looking so good."

They greeted me warmly enough as I added, "I am soo jealous."

She replied, "Oh it's nothing, just hard work and time put into it." And then she couldn't help herself and threw in a punch, "Looks like yours isn't doing so well."

"Yeah, the leaves kept ravaged by insects," I deflected and looked at her right in the eye. It was a challenge. She smiled but had a look of guilt to her. "Oh, guess that happens," she replied. That's what I wanted, a concession, for her to loosen her leash on Mike. My sick games had to continue.

Pointing at her plants, I continued, "I was thinking the way to go would be to raise my plants off the ground, like you have your planters-"

"Actually," she cut me off, "those are Earthboxes, not planters."

"Oh really?" I asked, mildly puzzled.

"Yeah," she sighed and then actually explained what she meant. I wasn't paying attention, but pretended to. This was a time for me to look disarming and take her advice without complaint.

"Wonder where I could buy those," I asked. That was my bait.

"Oh, you don't wanna buy those honey," she pointed at theirs, her pride swelling. "They're too expensive for their size. What you wanna do is build them," she beamed.

Time to spring the trap. "Oh gosh, but I'm not really crafty," I pleaded, "I wouldn't know what to do or where to even put them."