Thankfully she sank into her seat, almost immediately closing her eyes, blocking out the vision of the train, the few passengers; a mother and small son, one or two generic business men, the punk, and some teenage kids. She normally took an earlier train, always packed with the after-work commuters. But tonight she had had some 'must be done' tasks at work. She completed them, of course, but it left her dead tired. So it was no surprise that she was lulled by the rhythmic movements of the train, head resting back against the seat, her dark red hair held with a large clip, saved from severity by the few tendrils escaping to frame her face softly.
A 'casual' person at best, her home wardrobe was simple, jeans, t-shirts, tennis shoes. This contradicted greatly with the clothes she wore for work -- cutting edge fashion, clothes of high quality, usually black, which made her appear much more serious than she was. Today was no exception. Wearing a new longer jacket, reaching to her knee, only slightly above her skirt, black of course, it contrasted starkly against her white shirt. Her jewelry was discreet, despite the hints of her personality peeking through -- three earrings in one ear, only one earring in the other, a holdover from her punk days. Bracelets on each wrist, small beaded gems, a simple larger man’s watch, and several silver rings, all hinting at a slightly quirky, 'different' kind of personality. Her one indulgence, so at odds with her rather conventional dress, were the black silk thigh-highs, worn with garters and no panties.
Her fellow passengers would be shocked to know she had been instructed not to wear panties, and always stockings, never nylons, by her Dom. To look at her, there was no hint of the submissive lurking beneath; in fact, the opposite may have been true. She looked ‘in-charge,’ in control. The image she presented to the world was complete, she could lead others to a common goal, take charge of any situation, make it happen. But deep down, in a place she couldn't name, she longed for and in fact had become a soft, moldable, very willing-to-please woman. Her Dom recognized her need and wasn't fooled by what she presented to the world. He knew she gave herself to him completely, without hesitation, and he gladly took that control, took her...
She shouldn't have been surprised by what happen next. This fantasy she had shared with him one long passion filled night. In the dark, their bodies slowly returning to normal, he held her, her voice soft, quiet, as she shared with him. He listened silently, stroking her hair, never commenting. But of course, he remembered, and acted on her whispered longings.
She was roused from her near-slumber by the presence of another. She sensed a body moving to sit beside her and her eyes opened, annoyed, knowing the train was not full. That this person should choose to sit next to her, rather than in a seat by himself brought a cross expression to her face. She turned to look at the offender and her green eyes widened to saucers as she stared into his familiar and beloved eyes. Her lips parted as she almost spoke, stopped only by his finger, placed gently against her lips. Instinctively, as she had many times before, she drew it into her mouth, sucking gently. His eyes smiled into hers, as he pulled his finger away.
