The ancient, dusty cobweb expanded as the warm air tugged at its weakened skeletal fabric. A rumbling swelled within the confines of the underground station; a roaring sound interspersed with the 'click clack' of steel wheels hammering onto the next section of track. Like a bullet from a gun the train burst from the dark tunnel. The brakes squealed piercing the air.
The early morning travelers braced themselves for the onslaught to find a vacant seat.
Jason Faraday waited patiently. At twenty nine he had matured into a man of rugged appearance whom some would have called 'an Arnie look alike.'
Although, unlike Arnie's character, he was wondering if today he'd pluck up the courage to speak to his 'dream girl.' He'd seen her every Wednesday morning, for the past two months, traveling into central London. Standing impassively on the edge of the swelling crowd, his muscled physique unconsciously restrained the surrounding travelers from boarding first.
She was there, wearing a lightweight, pale blue, summer dress with a high collar. The blue matched her eyes. Her coiffed fair hair allowed the air to cool her pale neck. He guessed she was in her mid twenties and a slender five foot eight inches.
The doors opened, disgorging a gruff looking, pin stripe suited, middle aged executive. Jason stepped inside and sat down opposite her. She did not appear to look up at him but continued reading her magazine.
The train doors 'shushed' and closed. The train lurched forward and stopped. There was a moment's pause.
Was that a glance in his direction?
The train rolled forward then jerked into motion. The young man standing slightly to his left was caught unawares and quickly tried to grasp the handrail above him. He collided with the woman beside him. His foot ground onto Jason's own.
"Sorry, sorry," he blurted effusively, trying to grab the rail and re-orientate his body and briefcase.
Over the top of her magazine she smiled at Jason. His heart leaped. He smiled and leaned forward.
"Traveling at this time of the day has its drawbacks," he said to her. "Unfortunately, I've got to be in the office for an important meeting. Do you need to be somewhere early for financial reasons as well?"
Before she could reply the carriage lights went out. The darkness collapsed in on their thoughts as there followed a tremendous bang and grinding metal mixed with shattering glass.
Silence.
Jason awoke to a black stillness. He had a thundering headache. He was aware that his body was bruised and that he probably had a broken left leg. The softness beneath him must have prevented further injury. He tried to move but found he could not.
It was then that the 'softness' beneath him moved and groaned.
The warmth from the person's moaning heated his groin and their head movement made his cock twitch.
'Thank goodness, that's okay,' he thought.
It occurred to him that the warmth permeating through the delicate, soft fabric beneath his own face must be that from another human being.
'Female? Definitely,' he mused. A 'soap like' scent brushed the edges of his regaining senses, although the smell of highly charged electricity and burnt rubber became more pungent.
He tried exerting pressure on his back to lift his body clear from this 'sexual' position. He was, after all, a gentleman and knew that once the woman was conscious any number of embarrassing misconceptions on her part might lead to charges of gross indecency against him.
He could not move more than a few inches. Whatever happened now was out of his hands. He grinned.
More moans then an awakening.
"Aghhh..." She murmured. There was cramped movement. Her brain clicked into gear.
"Are you hurt?" Jason asked.
"I don't think so. I ache in places but everything seems to be functioning okay. My arms and legs are pinned. There's also a heavy weight the length of my body. What happened? Are you alright?"
"Apart from a few bruises I'm fine," he acknowledged, realizing from her tone that he was on top of a young woman.
"Can you move from under me? It seems I'm pinned from above and I can't get off you."
She squirmed beneath him as he pushed upward. Her face brushed his flaccid penis. It twitched again.
'Oh, God,' he thought. 'Please do that again.'
"Umm... Jason?"
"Yes."
"Is that your face in my crotch?"
He hesitated before replying, "Yes, it is."
"And there's no way you can move your face away from my crotch?"
"I'm afraid not. It also means that my groin is directly over your mouth and the slightest movement... You know my name? Who are you?"
"My name's Sarah and I sat opposite you before... well, before the accident. I recognized your voice and realized it must be you."
His heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening.
The girl of his dreams was beneath him. Was this his lucky day?
"But it still doesn't answer how you know my name?" He probed.
"I have to admit that I saw the name tag on your briefcase some weeks ago. I wanted to speak to you sooner but... well, I'm rather shy and really old fashioned about talking to complete strangers." She breathed. "Jason, your bulge is growing. I know you fancied me from the moment I saw you. It was in your eyes. I'm glad you spoke to me today. I thought it would never happen, though I hoped that it would."
"I do fancy you, Sarah. I have since I first saw you but I never dreamed of being in this position without some introduction first or at least by sharing a kiss."
Silence.
"You can," she breathed, huskily.
"I can what?" asked a bemused Jason.
She hesitated, then, after she had cleared her throat, "Kiss me."
"Kiss you? Kiss you how? Where..."
The bulge in his trousers grew bigger.
He blew a stream of cool air against her mons. "You mean you want me to kiss you here?" He queried.
"Yes I do. I don't expect you to understand but I have wished this moment to happen for a long time but only if you want to kiss me there. Although, judging by the bulge pressing into my face I'll take that to mean yes."
His left arm stretched forward to find the hem of her dress. As he did so he felt the hot breath from her mouth as she tried locating the tag to his fly zipper. The erotic sensation on his cock as the zipper edged downward stopped his movements.
"Jason? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Sarah. It's just... I mean... Do you really want this to happen? I mean... I don't want you to think that I do this with everyone."
"If what you really mean is that after I shall cry sexual assault then the answer is definitely no." With that she edged her face downwards, grasped the buckle to his trousers with her teeth and started to undo his belt. The next part was trickier but the top trouser clip eventually parted.
While Jason was slowly being undressed by a dexterous face in the dark he followed her lead and inched the dress up. He managed to get it up so far then it stuck.
"Sarah, I may have to tear your frock. Do you mind?" His chin nudged her mons.
"Do it Jason," she whispered, urgently.
The ripping sound echoed around them. Cool air touched her warm legs.
The same cool air drifted over his naked backside.
The scent of her nearly nude groin extended the bulge in his pants but she persevered and at last his erect cock sprang free.
His hands found the waistband to her light cotton thong. She lifted her bottom to allow their removal.
'A sure sign of consent,' he thought. Then he maneuvered the torn dress beneath her raised bottom so that the harsh coldness of whatever she lay upon did not cool her passion.
She shivered as his hands delicately caressed around the silky tops of her thighs between her pale stockings and naked shaven pussy.
He lowered his erection to her waiting lips: lips that her tongue wet quickly to allow him entry. She opened her mouth and enveloped his manhood. Indescribable warmth and wetness wrapped around his aching member.
He moaned and lowered his wet lips to her sweet musky pussy, delighted to sense in the darkness her lack of hair. She was able to inch her thighs open slightly to accept his kisses. He placed his forearms under her warm thighs and by resting on his elbows he parted her sensitive pussy lips. The aroma from her pussy flooded his senses as a small amount of moisture edged the lips of her vagina.
She groaned.