Here is another story I wrote for a friend years ago. As with other stories I’ve written as gifts, I speak directly to the reader throughout it, keeping the action in the present tense. I’ll continue posting it in pieces in the coming days.
The tone changes. You startle and stump me with your question, but you relieve the tension once more by rubbing my arm and telling me that you were kidding. After another laugh, I manage to tell you I thought I saw you in something black and skimpy. You tell me I was damn close. We discuss undergarment preferences as the conductor announces just one more stop before we arrive at the terminus. I feel a tinge of pressure. At no point have we talked about plans for the evening, parties we’re meeting, or who is in our lives. Keeping with the present tone, I ask if later tonight anyone will get to see what you’re actually wearing under there. The coy grin returns as you tell me that is to be determined. With that, I become hard.
We reach a juncture. I could play nice and simply ask for contact information. I could be more ambitious and ask if you’d like to get a drink after we disembark. The possibilities rattle in my thoughts, but something more daring emerges. I ask if I can tell you a secret. I lean in and whisper a fantasy to you. Your eyes roll, but not with disapproval. I can see your expression from the corner of my eye. You grin. You laugh. You shake and blush somewhat. I pull away, lingering for a just second to soak up how delicious you smell. The moment hangs as I wait for some words in response. You look away, look down, and then look at me. Now you lean in, cupping your hand to my ear. You whisper an acknowledgement of my secret and you add a fantasy of your own. This is incredible. Your hand is on my thigh when you finish. You stare into my eyes, smirking with your head cocked. Our hips are touching. Your skirt is bunched. I lean in again and you receive me. This time I whisper a proposal to you. Before I pull away, I reveal a final secret about what has been happening in my pants. You laugh loudly this time. Finally, you pull me back in to whisper a secret of your own, or at least I think this is what you’re going to do. Instead, you lick my earlobe with the very tip of your tongue.
While I know there isn’t anyone close to us, I scan around regardless. Assured, I turn and kiss you. It’s quick, aggressive, and electrifying. Your hand remains on my thigh. It starts to clench the fabric of my pants and then starts to knead me like a kitten’s paw would. We peck again, opening our mouth this time. We forget for a moment where we are. Lips caress one another. Soon tongues roll together. I marvel at the way you move your mouth. My imagination stirs. Making out lasts mere seconds before you pull back to laugh at the insanity of what we’re doing. As you laugh, I turn your cheek away with my pinky so I can give your neck a nibble. You exhale audibly and we both realize we’re going to get carried away. We gather ourselves while giggling, but kiss a few more times before straightening up. I chastise the two of us for our misconduct. You agree and apologize. The words have scarcely left your mouth as you place your hand over my crotch and squeeze. You feel how hard I am. You’re leaning on me as you do it and I hear you coo. I want you to pull it out right there for you, but we have to wait. There are other people nearby, after all. The city skyline is now in view and our ride is nearly over. The conductor’s approaching voice shakes us to our senses and we separate enough to diffuse suspicion.
The train arrives at our mutual station. Neither of us is sure what to say. We simply acknowledge that we’ve arrived. We stand up. You’re closest to the aisle and I let you out ahead of me. You pause to turn up the aisle and I purposely get a little too close to you. I bump into you from behind. You smirk. I follow you as you confidently strut towards the exit. My mind can’t stop lifting your skirt to get a look at your ass. You look back a few times at nearly the same spots where you had looked up while boarding. We stay hushed. I know I must do something. I have just seconds before we’re on the platform together. We’ve moved past a need to go for drinks, though cultivating some additional sexual energy at another public forum could be exciting. Do I invite myself to your hotel room? Do I invite you to mine? I wonder if you’ll decide you’ve gone too far.
Part 3 in a few days…