From the Train (part 4)

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.

Part 4

I’m pulling your thong completely out of the way as someone enters. We freeze. Security? No, just a guy taking a piss. He seems oblivious. You hold in a laugh, still frozen in position. I continue subtly, sliding the head of my cock up and down the exposed crack of your ass. The intruder leaves. To my surprise, you stand up and turn, pushing me back. At first, I think you want to stop. Instead, breathing heavily, you turn around and have a seat on the bowl. You lick your lips and grab me, caressing my cock with a turn of your wrist. This time I grab the walls on either side of me as you take me into your hot mouth. You suck me like we’re running out of time. The humming and slurping harmonize with your moans. I try to be as quiet as I can be, but you continue making most of the noise. We hear someone else enter. You stop, but quickly resume stroking my slick shaft as we realize this is just another guy pissing. Soon you’re smiling and licking me, jerking with your slippery hands and then consuming me, taking me all the way to the base.

We hear the second intruder leave and you stand and kiss me while still lightly stroking. You just say, “Now.” Turning around again, your hands return to the wall. Back arches. Legs spread. Ass points towards me. I lift the skirt up high and pull the thong out of the way once more. You feel my cock slide up and down your crack again. You arch a little more and whisper a command to fuck you. As I grab the root of my cock, I feel you reaching between your legs to pull me. I inch closer so our bodies connect. I press myself against you, rubbing between your wet lips. You quiver. I grab your shoulders, then your breasts, and finally your hips. The head parts the lips of your wet pussy. I slide in methodically. You gasp again and for the first time since we were holding hands, you seem to laugh. I suppose you’re amazed this is happening. I am too, but I’m in it until the end. I ease each inch inside you, then I pull out slowly. Your laugh changes to breathless sighs as I begin to pump into you. You’re the perfect degree of wetness for this. We go slowly for just a few strokes before I grab your hair and begin driving you hard. In less than a minute, I’m railing you as hard as I can and you can barely stand up.

I want to yell all kinds of filth into the side of your face, but there is still some restraint. We’re fucking hard in a men’s room stall after knowing one another for just a few hours, but we feel at least some caution: a fear of being arrested, if nothing else. Yes, we’re both amazed this is happening. Another laugh breaks out between us in acknowledgement of the sheer lunacy of the moment. I cut the laugh short by giving you a short burst of as-fast-and-hard-as-I-can-go slamming. Your pussy is now so wet that I can barely stay inside you. Each time I slip out, you reach for me in desperation because you crave me back inside you. Each time I pop back in, I grab your hips and grit my teeth, fucking pulverizing you from behind. The stall is rocking. The automatic toilet has flushed at least ten times. My brow is sweating. My cock is throbbing. Your pussy is pulsing. Our moans and grunts are stymied and hushed, but they don’t lack intensity or passion. Having to keep relatively quiet somehow heightens everything. All this happens in just a few crazy minutes together.

The flesh inside you yields to me, but clenches around me at the same time. I watch your body ripple with each hammering. The slapping between us resounds through the room. I’ve stopped listening for others. My footing is slipping and my legs are shaking. You’re having trouble, too. I’m nearly holding you up, or am I using you to prop me up? Maintaining the position while continuing to fuck you the right way is a worthy challenge. I can’t stop, not with the way you’re reacting. I have to keep giving this to you. I can’t relent. You turn to look back at me, meeting my eyes. You look at me, but then you drop your head out of exhaustion and look down, eyes closing and mouth gaping wide. Your hair is everywhere and in clumps from me grabbing it by the fistful. I find a new angle with one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip. You approve and you back into me in unison with my rhythm. This works perfectly. We hear loud steps enter. They get close to us and we slow our fucking accordingly. The steps pause, turn, and leave. Back at it we go.

Part 5 in a few days…

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