Impersonal City, Personal Touch

I was new to the big city. Moved away from all my friends and family to get away from the place of happiness and pain. I thought it'd be a place to start over anew. With so many people it wouldn't be long till I made new friends and had my new start. Still after a year, I hadn't met anyone. The guys were full of bravado and the girls averted their eyes, walls up in self-preservation. I'd fallen into the zombie-like trance of those around me. Each day mimicked the last. Wake up, hurriedly get cleaned up and dressed, steel myself for the plunge into the overcrowded isolation, squeeze into the subway car, trudge through a day of helping thankless people with their IT problems, fight through the jostling crowds to shove myself into another car. Most not even acknowledging the other exist, some casting frowns at those having the audacity to speak. I enter my cramped coffin of an apartment, eat dinner for the sake of sustenance - almost having forgotten what it was like to enjoy food - then turn in for the night to wait for sleep to take me into another mind-numbing day. I was floating through life waiting for anything to snap me out of my daze.

Yesterday started like any other. Work was especially bad. One of those days that feels as though despite all the tasks you've been hammering though, you're making no progress on your project. Walking to the subway, my mind was replaying the argument with my manager. Wondering if I should have said something different; should I have quit then and there? Mind half on the conversation and half on the book in my hand. I registered mild annoyance as an extra body crammed itself in between me and the doors just before they closed. We had made it two stops before the scent snapped me into the present. A perfume. Its intoxicating mix of clean powder and flowers itching at a memory I couldn't grasp. I became acutely aware of the body pressed against me. Crammed in the corner of the subway car. I couldn't help but start analyzing every feature. The gentle curves of her tall form. The long red hair falling straight like a partition, hiding her face. A dim reflection in the window allowing a shadow view of wondrous cleavage from her breasts superimposed on the blurred scenes passing by outside. I couldn't stop myself leaning into her a bit more, feeling the plush swells against my leg, losing grasp of all input but the scent and the feel.

I could feel myself hardening as my eyes traced her silhouette. Imagining what it would feel like to squeeze that flesh. Feel her skin against mine. A wave of sadness and loss washed over me as I knew it would never happen. The car lurched to a halt mid-way between stations throwing everyone forward. I panicked, knowing that there was no way she didn't feel my excitement against her hip. She didn't admonish me, but I noticed as people righted themselves, she didn't pull away either. I looked back at the reflection in the window, to look for any indication in the reflection of her face. I could just make out the angles and curves of her face, but nothing more. I looked at the reflection to try to see those around me. All were either facing away or engrossed in their phones actively avoiding eye contact. Mentally flipping a coin I decided to take the chance. I moved my bag to my right shoulder and slid directly behind her against the wall; making as though to just get comfy for the delay while positioning the bag as a makeshift shield.

I slid my hand up between the wall and her and caressed her hip, she didn't pull away. Emboldened, I pulled her against me. Still, she made no move to object. My free hand continued its languid journey up. Sliding under the loose fabric of her blouse. I could see her reflection's breathing quicken as my hand continued its journey. As I began to feel the curve of her breast, my hand froze in shock. In part from the firmness of the breast and in part by the realization that there was no bra encasing them. I continued on caressing the curvature of her large breast to find a rock hard nipple. She released a quiet gasp as my fingers played across it. Squeezing and massaging she leaned into it simultaneously pushing her ass backward into me. I bowed my head forward as though to whisper to her and began nibbling and licking her ear.

I reluctantly dropped my hand from her breast at some shuffling behind me, I looked and saw it was just others moving to settle for the wait. I slid my hand down under the waistband of her dress. My fingers found a small patch of hair; short but not so short so as to be prickly. It was trimmed in a design I traced in an attempt to discern the shape. As my fingers were following the edge of what I imagined to be a heart, she gently shook her head once. A quick movement more akin to moving hair out of her face. I stopped and started to pull my hand out rethinking the situation and that in my excitement I had misinterpreted her body language. She shook her head again with a slight whimper. A conversation had begun a bit away and covered the sound. My fingers continued to the source of the radiating heat and found it already quite wet. I cupped her mound with my hand, pressing gently, my hand moved in a tight circle, spreading the wetness and delighting in the smoothness of her lips.

She started to shake her head again, instead glanced to the side at the other passengers. When she realized no one was paying attention, she tucked her chin into her shoulder closer to the wall and widened her stance allowing me greater access. I began exploring her lips with my fingers. Rubbing, caressing, squeezing every bit of her vulva. When I began playing with her clit, she leaned back against me with her head on my shoulder, facing the wall. I could hear her rapid breaths as she tried to retain her outward composure. I could feel her body tensing with the rising pleasure. When I felt she was getting near release I stopped and withdrew my hand. She was frozen as though she thought us discovered, but when nothing happened her shoulders slumped and she leaned away from me.

She didn't hear me unzip my shorts, nor feel me pulling the fabric of her dress up in the back. She gasped again when she felt my hand on her bare thigh moving the crotch of her panties to the side. Her reflection's eyes grew huge, pleading. I resumed my ministrations from earlier and her eyes closed. I bent my knees a bit and leaned forward. In one quick motion, I used my fingers to guide myself past her soaked panties into her slick furnace. This time she gasped loudly from the shock and turned it into a fake sneeze. We froze. Somebody mumbled bless you from behind us. After a short pause, I resumed rubbing and caressing her with my hand and she started a slow rocking back and forth; sliding me slowly in and out. It was all I could do to not start thrusting, but I knew it would give us away. She reached up and put an earphone in her ear and started to nod to the music letting the movement spread to more of her body as she got more and more into the song. Her hips also picked up tempo. She occasionally shifted her weight from one foot to the other; taking the opportunity to wiggle her hips side to side while impaled on my cock. She continued to alternate between that and rocking forward and backward. With my hand continuing to rub while she had her way; it didn't take long before she pressed back against me hard and I could feel her internal muscles contracting and pulsating, her entire body rigid.

Abruptly, the train jerked into motion again pulling me out of her. I tucked myself back in, zipped up, and let her hem drop back down. She righted herself. The rest of the ride passed in silence. I started to realize that actually happened. It wasn't just another daydream fantasy. At one point she lowered her head as she rifled through her large purse. Eventually, we came to her stop and just before she was swept away in the crowd, she pressed a small paper into my hand. The doors closed and I looked at it. It was her business card. There was a little arrow in the bottom right corner pointing to the edge. I flipped it over to see her hasty script.

needed that

next time, your turn