Strangers on a Train Ch. 06

The intense heat of the New York summer was now a distant memory; a fresh blanket of snow covered the city. Christmas decorations adorned businesses and city streets signifying the season. The city, of course, was busy as usual—children in oversized puffer coats and backpacks heading to school and gearing up for the upcoming holiday break; shoppers darting in and out of boutiques and department stores; cars honking as they crawled through slushy streets.

It had been seven months since Sofia and I first met and ever since that improbable day, when she descended from heaven and literally fell into my lap, we had been seeing each other regularly. We went to fancy dinners, out to movies, and even attended parties together. For all intents and purposes, we were the couple I wanted us to be.

And, the sex—my god was it amazing. We constantly pushed and teased each other, exploring new places, positions, and ideas as frequently as we could. There was never a moment that I can recall, when one of us was interested and the other was not in the mood. It was seven months of constant, sex, lovemaking, and fucking and never once did we seem to get bored or exhaust our possibilities.

"What do you mean you've never seen Apocalypse Now? It's classic!"

Sofia and I were cuddled up under a blanket, tucked into the corner of the low lying sectional in my loft, thumbing through Netflix on a snowy Sunday afternoon.

"I've just never seen it," She replied, surprised at my surprise. "Is that such a big deal?"

"No, I suppose not. It's just that it's like my favorite movie of all time. I mean, the scenes with Dennis Hopper—and Marlon Brando? It's so good!"

"OK, silly," she answered, calmly. "Let's watch it now. But oh, wait. Before we get started," she added. "I forgot to tell you. Do you remember my old friend, Yasmin?"

I nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Well, she's coming to New York. Apparently, she left her boyfriend—they were together for years—and is taking time to travel and see the world."

"Whoa! Good for her, I guess. I'm sure it'll be great to see her. How long has it been?"

"Let's see... I don't think I've seen her since I moved out of my parent's place. I mean, we email every now and again, but yeah, it's been years."

"Wow, you must really be excited."

"I am, it'll be great to see her again. We were so close as kids. One thing though: she asked if she could stay with me. I would say yes, but my place is so small. I was wondering—"

"Don't say another word—of course she can stay here."

"Oh, thank you, sweetie!" she exclaimed, leaning in to give me a kiss.

"I guess I just don't get why you won't move in here with me, it would make things so much simpler. You're here all the time and there's plenty of space," I attempted to reason with her. In the grand scheme of things, seven months was not a particularly long time. I understood this. But, things just felt right between us and I was certain I knew what I wanted. And, it's not as if this was the first time I had broached the idea.

"I know, baby. But, I like having a place of my own. It's close to school and it makes days when I have to work so much easier when I stay there," she explained, not for the first time. "Plus, having my own space makes the time we do spend together that much more... exciting."

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"Shit," I growled under my breath as I glanced at the sleek Nomos Galsshütte watch on my wrist realizing it was almost 3pm. I clicked send on one final email, grabbed my things, and darted out of the office, avoiding contact with any of my coworkers. Today was the day Yasmin was supposed to arrive and I promised Sofia, I would get the place ready for her stay.

I walked briskly down Madison Avenue, clutching my camel overcoat closed around my neck to keep the frigid January wind at bay. "Ok," I thought to myself. "If it's just past three now, I can probably make it home by 3:30 or 3:45 at the latest. That'll give me a little over an hour to get the place together. I can do this; no problem," I added giving myself a little pep talk.

Normally the train is packed when I leave work, but at this afternoon hour I was easily able to find a seat amongst the groups of teenagers and school kids who usually make the subway their own domain before the after-work rush hits. I placed my headphones over my ears, blocking out the sound of adolescent chirping as I settled into the plastic orange seat closest to the door. Half an album later I was exiting the train and making my way through the poorly shoveled Brooklyn streets, hopping over the puddles that formed on corners, and arriving at my front door.

"Brrrr... its fucking cold out there," I said half out loud, defrosting from the short blustery walk as I rode the freight elevator up to my apartment. "I'd hate to get stuck out there for too long today."

I stepped in to the apartment and immediately noticed the lights were on. "That's funny," I thought. "I was certain I turned those off before I left." I suppose it was possible Sofia head let herself in at some point; she did have the code after all and had done it a couple of times in the past when she had left something she needed. But, normally she was good at turning off the lights.

I tossed my coat over the back of the sofa. "Hello?" I called out seeing if maybe Sofia was still there. But, no response. And then, I noticed the bathroom door, which was practically shut closed, yet remained slightly ajar. I walked across the apartment, scratching my head thinking, "Strange. Maybe Sofia decided to take a shower. But wait, she's supposed to be in class today. Isn't she? That's one of the reasons I had to come home early. Maybe she took off."

As I approached the bathroom, sure enough, I heard the shower running leading me to believe that my assumptions were correct. I nudged the door open expecting to see Sofia's hourglass figure standing under the jets, but as the steam cleared something entirely different was revealed. A tall, thin mystery woman with small, perky breasts and slender hips was enthusiastically masturbating, her slender fingers making short, fast circles over a neatly trimmed pussy; her other hand pinching a large, erect nipple. Her eyes were closed as the water fell from above, lost in her motions. She stood there with one leg raised and bent, her foot placed up on the shower bench, affording me a clear view of her long slender labia visible through the sliding glass of the large shower door.

I froze in place, more than a bit surprised. "This must be Yasmin, but why is she— "

Before I could finish the thought, Yasmin's eyes flashed opened and locked directly on mine, her gaze intense and purposeful. I was completely paralyzed; a dear in headlights, aware I should close the door and leave, but transfixed nonetheless. A wicked smirk crept across her sharp feminine face before biting down on her tempting lower lip as she slid her fingers inside herself. Not breaking her focused stare, she continued to administer self-pleasure, fully aware of my presence.

I stood there in awe of this long, model-esque, elegant stranger uncertain of how to respond. She was beautiful, but she was also my girlfriend's oldest friend. My indecision was ultimately, in and of itself, my decision, and so I maintained my position, eyes fixed as a tent appeared in my trousers. The stunning enigma in my shower continued fuck herself with an unbroken stare, her graceful fingers sliding in and out of her soapy pussy and rubbing her hard, little clit; her other hand fondling her pert breasts' pebble-like nipples. Mesmerized I watched this unexpected vision's breath increase as a silent, unblinking orgasm overtook her long, delicate body; cumming while never once taking her eyes off me.

She shut off the faucet and slid the shower door open to reach for a towel. Naked and casual, she dabbed her dark blond hair dry as if she was alone in the room and then, as if she just noticed me, she extended an outstretched, elegant arm to shake my hand.

"Hello," she quipped insouciantly finally breaking her silent spell. "I'm Yasmin. Thanks for letting me stay here."

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We sat on the sofa chatting as if nothing had happened—or, at least she did. As much as I tried to act nonchalant and collected, I couldn't get the carnal scene from earlier out of my head, the imprint of her unblinking, orgasmic eyes burned into my memory. Nevertheless, I did my best to focus as Yasmin explained that she wound up boarding an earlier flight and had arrived a few hours before expected into JFK. Instead of hanging around the airport, she called Sofia, who gave her the building code and access to the apartment. It all made perfect sense, but did very little explain why she hadn't turned apoplectic when I walked in on her. The more I thought about, the more I thought of Sofia in the same situation and resigned myself to idea that she most likely would have teased me in a similar fashion. She was after all the woman who just seven months prior had emerged from that same bathroom, practically a stranger, unafraid to demonstrate her ravenous sexual appetite. "It must be something in the Barcelona water," I joked silently.

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Yasmin and I arrived at Vinegar Hill House—a highly rated gastropub with hipster décor on the outskirts of my Brooklyn neighborhood—a few minutes passed our 8pm reservation. Normally, we would have walked, but the frigid January night dictated we take a car. We stepped out and as we shuffled through the old green and white rickety door, we immediately noticed Sofia, striking as always in her fitted black dress, sitting alone at a table. She jumped up when she noticed us and ran over, completely ignoring me, her love, and enthusiastically embracing Yasmin."

Immediately, they broke into Spanish, brandishing a series of highly emotive gestures that seemed to say something like, "Oh my god, look at you!" "No, look at you!" "You look incredible!" "No, you do!" And, so on.

"Ahem, Ladies," I interrupted. "I hate to break this up, but do you mind speaking English? I'm feeling a little left out here."

"Ok, silly," Sofia replied with a bat of her eyelashes. "Just remember, you're the odd man out here."

After my two gorgeous dining-mates finished their effusive reintroductions, we all took our seats at one of the four-tops; Sofia and Yasmin opting to sit next to each other, both with their backs to the wall. We quickly ordered a bottle of wine—an old-world, full-bodied, vintage Barolo—as well as a sampling of appetizers including their renowned cornbread and the seared Mediterranean octopus. Over the small bites, the girls continued to catch up with one another, both filling each other in on recent events and reminiscing over old anecdotes, which, as we worked through several more bottles of wine, inevitably led to uproarious fits of laughter. I did my best to interject here and there, but for the most part, let the two dear old friends enjoy each other's sorely missed company.

Sometime between dinner and desert I felt Sofia's toes reaching across the table and crawling up my thigh. I enjoyed the sensation, but didn't think too much of it as this was something she was prone to do after a few drinks, a cliché trope she no doubt picked up after watching one too many movies. Her talented toes continued their mischievous explorations for another few minutes, stimulating me, but not actually producing a full-on erection. But suddenly, her motions shifted and she was no longer simply teasing, but aggressively massaging my manhood with her bare foot. I looked across the table at her and realized two things: 1) conversation had more-or-less ceased and 2) Sofia was biting her lip, her face featuring a glazed look that was brought on by more than just wine apparently.

Our under table escapades escalated for a few minutes longer—Sofia's foot finally encouraging the stiffness she was working so diligently at achieving and Yasmin's hand confidently lodged between Sofia's thighs underneath the short hem of her tight black dress. Just then, the hipper-than-hip waiter returned to our table and obliviously plopped down our dessert.

"Ok guys, here you go: the cheese plate—this is the Roquefort, this is the Peccerino, and this one here is the Ameriblella," he announced in a practiced manner, gesturing at the plate.

"Actually," I spoke up. "I hate to do this, but do you mind packing this to go and bringing the check? Something's...uhhhhh... come up."

Moments later were exiting the restaurant in a hurriedly manner, the bag of leftovers still sitting on the abandoned table, my coat pulled tight to conceal the obvious hard-on straining against my jeans. We piled into the black Uber SUV that I had somehow been able to focus enough to order while still sitting at the table; Yasmin first, then Sofia, and finally me sitting three in a row, all in the third row of the roomy, extended Escalade.

"Front and Washington, right?" The driver inquired.

"Uhhhh, yeah," I replied not really paying attention but confirming anyway.

As soon as we had sat down, Sofia's already short hem slid up over her hips exposing her freshly groomed, bare pussy, bringing to light the fact that she had decided to go sans underwear that night. Like a chain reaction, Yasmin began to both stroke herself through the fabric of her tight, black jeans as well as Sofia's scandalously exposed wet folds, causing Sofia in turn to reach over to me, unbutton the top few buttons of my jeans and slide her hand inside my boxer briefs to stroke me. For the short, five-minute ride, the three of us masturbated each other with little regard as to whether driver was watching or not.

"Ahem," The driver injected, over emphasizing his fake cough snapping us back to reality. "We're here. You can get out now."

We rushed out of the car, too consumed in the moment to be embarrassed or to even really adjust ourselves, Sofia's pussy still practically exposed under her bunched-up dress, as we spilled into the cold winter night air. We were a jumble of drunken laughter and sexual energy. I fumbled with the door code and as the two women began to make-out, Yasmin brazenly stroking Sofia's wetness right there on the sidewalk in plain view should anyone have decided to brave the cold and walk by. For some reason, at that moment, my fingers were barely able to enter the building code, but finally, the door buzzed and we all tumbled into the lobby. As we waited for the elevator, again an action that usually took seconds, but which now felt like an eternity, Sofia managed to unbutton Yasmin's skinny black jeans and slide her hand inside Yasmin's already soaked panties to reciprocate the fondling that was taking place as they continued to make-out like the high school kids they were when they last saw one another. The fun continued during the elevator ride up as Sofia broke her kiss with and Yasmin and made the decision to include me in the action once again. Her fingers still working under the cover of Yasmin's bottoms and Yasmin's still exploring Sofia's wantonly exposed folds, Sofia placed her mouth over mine and used her free hand to start unbuttoning my shirt.

She pulled away from me and what came next surprised me somewhat. Obviously, the fantasy of experiencing the pleasures of both gorgeous women had been at the forefront of my mind since I first saw Yasmin in the shower—hell, it had been on my mind since the first time Sofia told me those stories about their adolescent years—but up until that moment, Yasmin's effort had been entirely focused on Sofia, meaning Yasmin and I hadn't as much as brushed against one another yet. That all changed as Sofia removed her fingers from around the tent-pole in my jeans and used her hand to guide my head towards Yasmin's. I placed my lips over Yasmin's and inserted my tongue into her willing mouth. She kissed back with unrestrained vigor and just as we settled into our vicious kiss, Sofia pulled my head back again, inserting her herself into the mix, our three tongues intermingling, our mouths opening and closing each trying to grab onto something to suck, as we all experienced one another simultaneously for the first time.

We reached the apartment and were temporarily forced to break our licentious embrace. Sofia shimmied out of her coat, leaving it on the floor and in one motion pulled her black dress over her head, tossing it haphazardly. She stood in the living room fully undressed save for an impossibly high pair of black Louboutin heels I had bought her, her pussy visibly swollen and her large puffy brown nipples distended and rigid. She instinctively touched her own skin, cupping her ample gravity defying breasts and allowing her other hand to meander to the exceedingly damp spot trapped between her shapely thighs.

Yasmin hadn't seen Sofia's incredibly formed naked figure in years and was amazed upon Sofia's quick reveal. "My god," she said softly, wide eyed and astounded. "You're even more beautiful than I remember."

"You know," Sofia purred as her hands continued to roam over her own body. "I think I've been wet ever since I got your email saying you were coming to New York. It brought back so many memories. And," she continued now looking at me. "I've been fantasizing nonstop about what it would be like to fuck both of you... together.

Sofia turned around. The taper of her torso disrupted by the roundness of her heart-shaped ass highlighted as she sauntered off towards the bedroom, purposely accenting every entrancing movement of her body. Yasmin and I followed in haste; puppy dogs obediently trailing their master excited to receive their treat. We quickly all piled into the bed, each in different stages of disrobement and gathered, kneeling in a cluster. In a flurry of hands, we helped each other out of our remaining clothes, taking turns experiencing each other's lips and tongues in a series of shared shameless kisses. The hunger in the room was palpable, our breathing shallow as we raced to see who could devour who first, sampling one another with a sense of addiction.

Finally, all naked, we continued our rapturous embrace, grabbing each other by the hair encouraging all possible permutations of our lustful collective kiss. Sofia broke first and pushed me back onto the bed, my head falling to rest near the pillows. Brushing Yasmin's hair aside, Sofia moved her lips against Yasmin's long, graceful neck, nibbling her while running her hands across Yasmin's small, but feminine breasts. Sofia whispered something into Yasmin's ear and the girls giggled nodding their heads in agreement, to what, I'd have to wait to find out.

Yasmin then crawled out of bed, while Sofia sat astride my outstretched legs, her fingernails tracing lines across my well defined chest. I yearned for the feel of Sofia's sex, able to feel her heat on my legs as she sat inches from my strained prick, my arched shaft hovering centimeters above my abdomen, the bulbous head grazing my naval. Yasmin returned after a very short departure, her black lacey panties clutched in her delicate fingers. She offered them to Sofia who took them and then wordlessly grabbed my wrists from her hips where I had been touching her. She shimmied forward on my body, her slick pussy sliding against my shaft, as she simultaneously fell forward taking my hands and arms with her. My cock twitched from the warm, wet stimulation. Sofia placed her mouth over mine and delicately licked and bit my lips, both of our arms fully extend above our heads.

A wave of excitement raced across my body as I realized that Sofia was using the lacey, black panties to bind my wrists both together and to the wooden lattice headboard. She sat back up, the full weight of her body pressed on my flattened, trapped member. I tried to speak, but Sofia placed a finger over my lips and shushed me. She proceeded to lean over and extract the sleep mask that was hidden in the night stand drawer. Finally, in hushed, husky tones, she broke the silence: