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.
We exit the train together. This is that crucial intersection I’ve been anticipating. I half expect you to bid me farewell. Ever ready to quell my fears, you offer your hand to me. We clasp hands and walk together, looking at one another and laughing, but still not saying anything. This continues from the platform to the interior of the station proper. You pull me towards you and around to the back of one of the massive support pillars. You back up against it, look at me with a new, more serious expression, and tell me what to do with only your eyes and parted lips. We embrace and kiss deeply. Our tongues twirl. My body presses into you. My inhibitions fade. Your hands are all over my back. Your bag hits the floor. I continue pressing against you. We’re unconcerned about who is watching or what they’re seeing. This time the display is more public and much more passionate than our play on the train had been. Regardless of our blatancy, it’s late and the few people passing either don’t notice us behind the pillar, or are too tired and travel-weary to care.
Making out lasts several minutes. I bite your neck just as my hands reach around you to clutch your ass. I get a “Thank you” for that. You take me into you, using your raised leg to pull me in as you feel my erection against you. Some filthy talk is exchanged through whispers. The giggling is gone, replaced by sighs and soft moans. Although we’re protected in part by the pillar, we realize this can only go so far here. I whisper once more to remind you of my fantasy from the train and I suggest a twist. You wonder aloud if we could get away with it. I tell you I’m game. Continuing while combining themes, you agree and laugh.
We walk together towards the men’s room. I figure the women’s room will be more crowded and have more potentially sensitive eyes and ears. At the entrance, I ask you to wait outside. I enter and I return, motioning to you to quickly follow me. Yes, there are cameras. Yes, there are some people around. We don’t care. We tell ourselves no one is paying attention. For sure, no one sees you follow me.
We race into the stall I’ve selected. I hold the door for you as you enter. As soon as the door shuts behind me, you hang your bag and we’re all over each other. We seem to be competing to see who can kiss harder. We bite lips. We suck tongues. I grope you like a pervert. You love it. Your hands can’t be everywhere they want to be, alternating impatiently between scratching my back and grabbing my crotch. I pull your hair back to break a kiss, leaving you gasping with your mouth open. I bite your neck again and I reach up under that tiny skirt to grab a handful of ass. A black thong. I knew it.
I pull the thong from between your cheeks just as I pull harder on your hair. Meanwhile, you’re unbuckling my belt and reaching into my pants. I suck your neck, being careful not to leave any marks, or at least not any dark ones. You slip a hand under my boxer briefs. The hand wraps around my bare cock and begins impulsively tugging before pulling me completely free. The space is cramped and we can’t allow any air between us. I have just enough room to wind up and crack your ass, which gets the strongest reaction from you thus far. You look up at me hungry and panting, stroking harshly. Naturally, I repeat the slap several times before grabbing firm again. You sigh loudly each time. I tell you to turn around.
You spin around and grab the wall. The stall is clean enough, but also dingy enough for this to feel splendidly trashy. I lift up your skirt and take a long look at your spectacular ass. Your hands are above you. Mine find your hips. I begin to grind against you. Soon I’m pounding against you with my cock sliding under that thong and between your ample ass cheeks. We’re making a lot of noise, but we’ve committed like we’re jumping from a plane. I take my hand and slap your ass as we collide. I reach around you, between your legs, and tease your pussy through your thong. The scant fabric is getting pulled up into you and is completely drenched. I feel it and I raise my hand to your mouth so you can taste for yourself. The way you suck my fingers could only be called animalistic. I grab you with both hands to pound you harder. You’re moaning and crying out like I’m inside you. Your noises echo throughout the restroom. The pounding of our bodies adds a harmony. The partition is squeaking to complete the composition. If anyone is passing, I’ll bet they can hear this. Still not caring, I ask you if this is how you want me to fuck you. Breathlessly, you tell me to get to it already.
Part 4 in a few days…