Fireworks 18

The fireworks were over – or at least that's what I thought at the time. I'd spent the evening on the National Mall, not far from the Washington Monument, and the sky had been lit with brilliant whites, reds, blues, greens and pinks as we celebrated the 4th of July. Now, however, the party was over, and my wife and friends and I crowded on to a metro car for the ride home.

I don't know if you've ever been on the metro after an event like the 4th. Cattle car doesn't begin to conjure up the scene as thousands of people cram onto metro trains... thousands of people and thousands of competing sounds... and smells.

I found myself standing in a metro car, unable to move more than a few inches forward or back. My left arm was raised to hold on to an overhead rail, and my right arm was at my side, for all intents and purposes paralyzed by the closely packed crowd. My wife was somewhere in front of me and to the left – I could catch momentary glimpses of the back of her head through the crowd.

As the car lurched forward on its journey, I felt a woman's body press up against mine from behind. How did I know it was a woman's body? My wife has large breasts – I know what it feels like to have big tits press against your back. What was interesting was that, after the initial lurch and contact, she leaned into me again and I could feel her breasts thrust into my back... I have to admit that I leaned back into her...

The crowd had us so closely packed in that there was no way for me to turn around to see what she looked like. I couldn't see, hear, or even smell her – the car was such a mix of odors, from beer and hotdogs to sanitizer, cologne, and perfume. I could feel her tits on my back and, every now and again, I might feel her breath soft on my neck. I quickly found myself fantasizing that it was the woman who had been sitting with friends on a blanket near us as we waited for the fireworks. I had checked her out several times: long, shining black hair with bangs that accentuated blue eyes full of mystery; long limbs, large, firm breasts, and a nice, tight ass all nicely wrapped up in a t-shirt and shorts. She wasn't young – I'm in my 40's and so was she, I would have guessed. Age hadn't made her look tired; it made her look wise, intriguing... and hungry.

My fantasy was interrupted as the train came to a halt and a moan rose from the crowd. "There's an obstruction on the track ahead. We will proceed again as soon as it is safe to do so," the announcer said. And as her words ended, the lights dimmed slightly.

The dimming of the lights and the pressure of the tits on my back returned me to my previous thoughts, and I saw her in my memory, in profile, looking up at the fireworks filling the sky and then turning her head to look at me. Even at that distance, the fireworks were reflected in those blue eyes...

What the --?!? The woman behind me had snaked her right hand under my shirt (it was untucked) and was now unbuttoning my jeans! No one in the crowd seemed to notice and I realized that no one could see her hand under my shirt. My cock responded instantly. It was already half-erect as a result of her tits on my back and my fantasizing, but now as she finished unbuttoning my jeans and began tugging on the zipper it sprang to attention.

I had no idea who was behind me, only that she was a she and that she had big tits. And that her hands weren't small and weren't large. She thrust her hand inside my pants and her nails traced across my skin and then stopped for a moment – I think she was surprised to find me shaved. But she expressed her pleasure with this discovery by wrapping her fingers around my cock and stroking me up and down with a firm grip. After a few strokes, she decided to explore and she released her grip and began to trace the veins of my cock with a fingertip. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, feeling both awkward and aroused. Her hand traveled South, cupping my balls, weighing them, squeezing oh so gently.

I closed my eyes and fantasized about the dark-haired beauty. As the fingers moved up my cock, I pictured the two of us on a beach in the moonlight – there were people partying farther along the shore under lights and their voices merged in a drone that was occasionally punctuated by a burst of laughter, but the two of us were alone, naked in the moonlight, and I was running my hands over her body as she fondled my hard cock.

In the metro car, she put her thumb between my body and my cock, her fingers barely touching the outer ridge of my cock. She moved them slowly and lightly up my cock and ran her thumb across the head, from its edge to the hole and back, and then she rotated her hand so she was holding the head of my cock like a gear shift knob, and her fingers began to trace the edges of my head, lingering on my glans. She rotated her hand over the head of my cock before pulling away so one finger could touch, oh so lightly, at the tip of my cock and then slowly trace its way down my cock, pausing to caress my foreskin before travelling down to my balls. From my balls, her fingers flitted like butterflies across my cock and resumed their grip and the slow, kneading stroking.

In my mind, I pulled her to me and kissed her before lowering her onto the sand and positioning myself between her legs. In the moonlight, I caught a glimpse of excitement and something wild in her eyes before I lowered my head between her legs and began to lick at her carefully trimmed pussy. In my mind's eye I gently pulled her pussy lips apart so I could place my tongue deep in her pussy before licking upwards and teasing her clit...

I was so hard now, and the people in front of me and on either side of me had no idea. She responded to my arousal by leaning in closer, her breasts mashing into my back, her pussy pressing against my ass, her breath stronger now on my neck...

On the beach, I rose from her dripping pussy and climbed atop her, kissing her hard and moaning slightly as her mouth converged on my tongue and began sucking her juices from my tongue before opening up and kissing me deeply... Her hand was on my cock, guiding it between her legs where she wanted it so badly. I entered her slowly, treasuring every inch of her pussy; sorry when I could go no further. I made up for it by thrusting slowly and deliberately, using every inch of my cock, gyrating and thrusting, ramming my cock into her and then slowing down and pulling my cock out until only the head remained in her, clasped gently by her beautiful lips.

The stroking had been smooth and gentle at first, but now her breath was coming faster and her strokes became more vigorous. She was stroking and pulling my cock now, the skin shifting with each stroke of her hand, and I felt that familiar sensation rising up my cock from the base of my balls. The head of my cock began to tingle and when she ran her index finger across my foreskin at the top of her stroke I began to come. I was hanging by one arm from the overhead railing, and I tried to act like I was shifting my weight, but my legs buckled and as I convulsed I pushed my ass back against her pussy and she thrust forward to meet me. Her fingers quickly moved up my cock and cupped over the head to catch the remaining jism as it spurted from my cock like water from a fountain. As my climax came to an end, she withdrew her hand from my pants and placed it on my abs, rubbing the cum on her hands into my skin in a slow, sensuous caress.

Suddenly, the car lurched forward and she reflexively pulled me into her. The unexpected intimacy of that moment was unforgettable. The lights came back up and the train picked up speed. She held me to her for another second and then she leaned back, the pressure from her breasts lessening, but still in contact. As we neared the first stop and the station was announced, she leaned forward and whispered "Call me..." I thrilled to the sound of her voice in that instant, in the midst of that car full of strangers, and then I felt a business card pressed between my thumb and the fingers of my right hand. As I clasped the card, the pressure from her breasts eased and disappeared. The crowd convulsed as people made for the exit. I took the opportunity to try to turn and look over my shoulder. There was a cluster of people pushing out of the door, but I would swear that I caught a glimpse of raven black hair and mischievous blue eyes...

I whispered her name "Veronica..." Her phone number was listed beneath that, nothing else. She was a mystery waiting to be solved.