Monday 30 January 2017

Tube fun...

Back in 2002, I was working for a well-known auditing company.  Due to a big job I was involved in, I was transferred - for a few months - from the Leicester branch to the London headquarters.  I had a great time - hotel room, expenses, life in the big city - and I got to leave early on Fridays so I could be home for the weekend with my wife.  The one drawback was the tube.  If you go into London as a tourist, the tube is fine, a means to an end and you choose when you go on it.  If you’re a commuter, more often than not you’re on it with hundreds of other people, tried, ratty, sweaty and irritable and it’s not always the best of times.

On this particular day, my mood wasn’t brilliant.  I’d been involved in a conference call that hadn’t gone well at all, tempers had quickly frayed, accusations were levelled and everybody got pissed off.  We resolved most of it but I was still annoyed that we’d wasted hours working on something that was pointless.  As a consequence, by the time I got into the bowels of the tube station, I wasn’t feeling my best.  The train came, it was almost full.  I squeezed in and we went down the line a station and more people squeezed in.  Before long, it was little a cattle truck and however stuffy it was there, I kept going back to the conference call.

My annoyance stopped me from focussing on the tube train, which disgorged passengers before taking more on.  Somebody trod on my foot and I glared at them but they were wrapped up in whatever music was playing on their Walkman to pay attention.

Then I noticed a lovely perfume, a pleasant floral scent.  I looked around, trying to figure out who it was and realised - for the first time - that the person standing in front of me was a woman.  Well, I say standing in front of me, due to the crush of bodies she was pressed up against me.

She was about five and half feet tall and slim, with shoulder length dirty blonde blonde.  I couldn’t see much skin but what I could was pale and creamy.  Not that it mattered, I was just pleased to have someone who smelled nice pressed against me.  Was it the scent of her shampoo, I wondered or perhaps her body spray.  It didn’t matter, I was happy.

The train set off again and the motion and the smell of the woman lulled my mind away from being stuck in a cramped, hot carriage.  I was bowled over by her smell, my mind drifting to thoughts of how it’d feel to run my fingers through her hair, to gather it into a ponytail and pull it back.  Would she arch her back?  How would that look?  Would it look like I was taking her from behind, pounding at her pale, creamy skin, holding her sweetly scented hair?

Suddenly I realised that my little fantasy was having an effect and my cock was getting hard.  Oh no, oh shit, this I did not need.  If she felt it, which she surely must in a few moments, she was likely to swing for me - as best she could in the crush - or at least shout about it.  Bollocks.

But it was too late and whether the fear helped or not, my cock was already hard enough that I could feel it pressing against my underwear.  There was no hiding it now and the bumping, swaying and jolting of the carriage wasn’t helping any either.  With each movement, my cock was rubbed against or pressed into her arse and as much as I closed my eyes and thought of horrible things, the motion kept my erection at full mast.

That’s when I felt it, even though I couldn’t believe it was happening.  But it was, it had to be.  The woman was no longer just moving with the motion of the carriage.  I could feel the pressure of her pushing her arse back into my crotch, my cock slotting nicely in.  My heart, so panicked before, kept up its rhythm and my breathing got heavier.

Her buttocks formed a perfect mould around my raging hard-on and she briefly pressed back hard, almost pushing me back.  Then she stopped swaying and began a more rhythmic up and down motion. It wasn't noticeable to anyone around us, but that few inches of vertical motion along with her increased pressure against my crotch was more than enough friction to stroke me through my pants. I could see her shoulders moving as her breathing picked up.

I knew I should stop this, knew I should tap her on the shoulder and explain but I couldn’t do it - she was doing what she wanted and who was I to stop her?

The train came to a halt and I’d been so caught up that I hadn’t thought to grab onto something.  My momentum pushed my cock hard into the groove of her arse and the rest of my body against her back and she put her hand up to the bars, gripping it tightly to keep herself in place.  I had no choice but to grab her, putting my hands around the tops of her hips to help keep my balance and stop from stumbling forward.

Now, I was sure, all hell would break loose but it didn’t.  The carriage stopped, a few people got out, a few more got on.  The lack of motion didn’t stop my new-found friend and as I remained with my cock firmly slotted between her buttocks, she started to flex them.  I’m not sure how she managed it but she flexed and moved her arse against me without the rest of her body apparently moving.  The delicious onslaught against my cock continued and I gripped tighter to her hips, pulling her onto me and maintaining the pressure.  The train started again and I began to knead her hips, moving against her gently.  She pushed back on me, her arse moving up and down slightly.

I wanted to turn her around, I wanted to grab her arse, run my hands over her belly, up and down, but I knew that wasn’t what this was.  I knew this was all about the moment and nothing more.

The train slowed down for the next stop.  She kept moving against her bum against me, up and down, pressing back and I could feel the pressure growing in my balls.  I didn’t want to cum here, certainly not in my pants but I gripped her hips, hoping that she was getting something out of this too.

As the car slowed, the lack of motion didn’t stop her and I kneaded her hips harder.  I leaned forward, let out a groan and she leaned her head back slightly, releasing more of her wonderful scent.  I heard her moan softly and then the train came to a stop.

“I have to go,” she said and wiggled her arse against me one more time.  I waited for her to step forward, looked down at the dent in her skirt where my bulge had pressed so hard into her arse.  I quickly covered my hard-on with my briefcase.  She stepped forward, straighetened her skirt and shook out her hair, then got off the train.

As she stepped onto the platform she turned and I saw her properly for the first time and realised that I knew her.  Not to speak to, but to nod at in the corridors of the giant office building I was currently working in.  I couldn’t remember what company she worked for but we had crossed paths in the corridors.

She nodded and smiled at me, a flush on her cheeks and held her hands in the shape of a phone.  I shrugged and she smiled, so I smiled back.

Tomorrow, I would find out what company she worked for and give her the ring she wanted me to.  For now, I just wanted to get back to my hotel room to wank myself senseless.


No comments:

Post a Comment