Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction concocted entirely within my imagination. Any resemblance to real people shouldn't be surprising since most of my stories are based on people I know. While I hope you enjoy this story and are compelled to provide feedback, I don't expect the subject matter will appeal to everyone who reads it. As such, I discourage venomous, nasty feedback full of violent wishes against essentially fictional characters in fictional situations. If this story does not appeal to you, there is undoubtedly one somewhere on Literotica that will, so your energy will be better spent on finding it rather than on vilifying me. Your opinions are welcome but your attacks are not.
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I was definitely feeling happy as I boarded the light rail after leaving happy hour but seeing Megan and having her wave me over made me even happier. We lived in the same neighborhood and picked up the train at the same station, though not always at the same time. My favorite mornings were when I was about half-a-block behind her and could watch her ass swinging as she walked. She was at least ten years younger than me, maybe a bit more, with some nice curves and a cute face but I tried my best on the occasions that we chatted not to let on that I'd easily jump her bones given the opportunity.
"Don't tell me you're coming from happy hour, too," she said as I sat across from her.
"I am," I replied, "We were over at the The Ghost."
"We were at The British Bulldog," she said, "How funny."
"I love that place," I told her, "I could just as easily have been over there."
"Well you definitely would have been an improvement over the men who were there," she laughed, "The pickin's were certainly slim."
"What were you looking for a hook-up?" I asked, feeling a little twinge of jealousy.
"I'm not too embarrassed to admit that I don't currently have a man in my life," she said, definitely sounding a little buzzed, "and that a hook-up would not be unwelcome."
"Well, if I was quite a bit younger and we could avoid detection by our neighbors," I said, before considering that maybe I shouldn't, "I'd be at the front of the line to volunteer."
"First of all, I don't think you're that much older than me," she replied, "and second of all, what is your concern about our neighbors?"
"You don't think that we'd set some tongues wagging in the neighborhood if they saw me following you into your house," I asked, then almost as an aside, "and leaving fifteen minutes later, including foreplay?"
She burst out laughing, which let me know that I hadn't gone too far.
"If we start foreplay now," she said, lowering her voice and leaning toward me, "you could be in and out, literally, so quickly that they'd never believe that it was for what it was actually for."
It was my turn to laugh out loud, but I was wondering if she was actually serious.
"What if I made you cum before we even got to our stop," I asked, "then you decided you didn't need me to stop by, after all."
"If you can make me cum before we get to our stop," she replied, "I guarantee that will only make me want more. Come sit over here."
I moved across to sit beside her and she adjusted the bag she was holding on her lap so that no one could see as I slightly raised her skirt, exposing her panties. I ran my fingertips over the front of her panties before slipping my hand inside them, over her trim bush to her dripping wet pussy. I slid a finger up and down between her lips and over her clit as she moaned softly while trying to appear inconspicuous. If anyone was paying attention to us, the fact that I'd moved over next to her and we'd stopped having a conversation would have probably been more suspicious. Fortunately, it was late enough that there were not many other people in the car with us and the few that were weren't facing in our direction. I was still glad that my own bag was on my lap because I was starting to pitch a tent.
She spread her legs as wide as she dared so that I could occasionally dip my finger into the snug, slippery depths of her pussy then slather her clit with her lubrication. I could feel her subtly rocking her hips as I heard her breathing rate increasing so there was no doubt that I was successfully steering her toward an orgasm, but my mind was wandering to how I could get into her house and fuck her without us becoming the topic of neighborhood gossip. She'd already made it clear that she'd be into it and, just feeling how hot and wet her pussy was, I knew I'd be willing to do whatever it would take to slip my cock into her. My mind couldn't wander too far, feeling her body next to me tensing up more and more the longer I stimulated her clit and fingered her hot, slippery pussy. I glanced over and realized that I could see a bit of her cleavage and that her nipples were pressing out her blouse. I smiled as it sunk in that I'd probably have my hands on her tits within the hour.
I could feel her go rigid and it sounded as though she held her breath momentarily before her entire body was trembling and a soft moan escaped. I continued to gently massage her clit with a smile on my face as I realized that this was definitely the first time, but might not necessarily be the last time, I'd made somebody cum on the light rail. She seemed to go limp, her chest heaving as she caught her breath, so I slipped my hand from her panties, assuming she'd finished cumming. She glanced toward the window as I sucked her nectar from my finger and realized how close we were to our stop.
"You're definitely not getting away without fucking me," she finally said.
"I wasn't even intending to try," I replied, "but, again, what do we do about the neighbors?"
As we got ourselves together and exited the train, we went over a few options until something came to me as I thought about the layout of her house. She lived on a corner and her garage faced the side street around the corner from the front of her house. I was pretty sure that her garage also just faced another garage, so there wasn't much chance of anybody really paying attention there.