Train journeys have a definite effect on my mood. At the start of the week I can kind of grin and bear the hassle and lack of comfort, but by the end of the week the journeys seem tortuous, making my work days stretch out impossibly long, feeling like I'm walking down a lone desert road and I'll never reach the end.
Friday night rush hour. Rush hour? Ha! The irony of using the word 'rush' at a time when the traffic is grid-locked in every direction and commuters stand like penned sheep, waiting for the mechanical monsters to appear. Like some apocalyptic entity they roar into being, feed on the throngs of people stood silently waiting their fate, before closing their mechanical mouths and sweeping their pray off into the darkness.
After waiting for what seems longer than I've lived, I eventually fought my way onto the train, avoiding hurling abuse at the people around me. Why is it that common manners and patience disappear as soon as you're in a crowd?
I shouldn't complain, I'm as bad as they are.
I managed somehow to grab the last seat available -- right at the very back. It's wasn't perfect, but at least it was a single seat, so I didn't have to make polite conversation with anyone. I thanked my luck that at least I'm seated with a view of the ensuing chaos that I knew would come.
At the next station, amongst the hordes, a woman in her early thirties boarded. She stood out from the crowd, resplendent in glorious techni-colour, rendering all around her to dull, washed out sepia tones. She was beautiful, with blonde hair that cascaded down to just below her shoulders, her dark browns eyes set in, what seemed to me, an almost angelic face. God, she was amazing.
The train continued to fill with people and she was pushed/walked further down the train towards me. It didn't take long until the air became stale and hot, so I dragged off my jacket to cool myself down. I noticed that at the same time the blonde (as I fondly remember her) was taking off her jacket.
I gasped slightly as she revealed a short black dress underneath, stretching across her ample breasts, hugging her hips and resting on her golden brown thighs. She noticed me looking, so I managed a nervous smile and quickly looked away. My cock stirred slightly and all she had done was take her jacket off.
"I should get out more," I thought.
Of course, the seed of curiosity was then sown, encouraged to grow by my libido, and it wasn't long before I was stealing glances again. Her calves were smooth and so shapely, not that non-existent shapeless look that those anorexic models have. The way she was stood made the dress hug her left thigh.
"I bet she has amazing legs," I thought. "There's some lucky bastard out there!"
I followed the dress up to the more than ample curve of her breasts and blessed my luck that at least I had something to admire on this hellish journey.
The train slowed to a stop at the next station, the next episode of this mobile circus. The blonde walked even closer to me, the dress showing her shapely hips and a promise of what was beneath. Her full breasts swayed gently,
"Hmmm they look real," I thought with a touch of delight, not being one for fake.
My eyes swept back to her legs, her hips, back to those magnificent breasts and...shit! She'd caught my eye again. I pretended to look out of the window at something I'd noticed, making a total fool of myself as the condensation made the station and waiting people nothing more than smears.
The train continued its journey and within minutes my attention was on the blonde again. My optical nerves had somehow become connected directly to my cock and, like the sharpest predator, my gaze was almost unerringly fixed back on my prey for as long as I dared, all thoughts directed at her.
"God, she has amazing tits, look at that body, great fucking legs, oh man!"
My hormones had taken me past the point of polite references. I'm not one for wearing underwear all the time and, this being one of those days, my cock was busily burrowing its way down my leg, already wet with precum. I slyly rubbed my hand slowly up and down the shaft, sneakily opening the fly on my pants to gently stroke it with one finger.
The blonde again looked in my direction, this time for slightly longer. I cringed as she momentarily glanced at my crotch, fully expected a look of disgust or even a mouthed obscenity to be aimed in my direction. Instead, the ghost of a smile played across her full lips.
"Hang on, is she teasing me?" I thought, equally wishing that she was.
She shifted her footing and stood facing me, her legs slightly apart, making the dress cling to both thighs.
The hunted had become the hunter, I the helpless prey. I gazed at the perfect, inverted V of her legs. She was a Goddess. She lightly placed a hand on her thigh and ran it up her leg to her waist, momentarily raising her dress a few inches. I was going to cum in my pants, right here on the train. I glanced at the small wet patch of precum on my leg, anyone who glanced could hardly miss my twitching cock pushing against the material.
The blonde gazed innocently, but wickedly down at her voluptuous body, brushing non-existent dust from the material covering her tits, making them bounce slightly. As she did so, her nipples rose into view, stretching the black material into two twin points. I was convinced that my heart had relocated and was now firmly housed at the back of my mouth. She was teasing me. Fuck the lotto, I'd won the jackpot on this grotty train. Game, set and match to me.
