The subway station was nearly empty but for a sleeping figure on one of the cold benches, and the orange glare from the sign declaring the next train would come in 5 minutes, and construction on the Main Street exit would be complete in the fall.
She looked down to the swell of her stomach, where the bright turquoise stone adorning her navel poked out curiously from her high-waisted shorts, as did the red stretch marks that came with being a bit wide. Her breasts were a small 40A cup that sagged slightly over her stomach, but her red-brown nipples poked out against the impossibly thin sports bra she'd selected - not very seductive, but comfortable. Only a small part of her regretted the decision. Flipping her phone over in her hand, she found she was shaking, still unsure this was really happening.
A message came in, asking how much longer until she would be at the station.
Checking the sign, she replied, "Probably ten minutes," adding a heart, in part to convince herself she really could be flirtatious. The messages she'd sent were desperate, bordering on obscene; her cheeks burned with the delicious humiliation of it all. She only had two pictures of the stranger's body - a well-carved abdomen, bordered with faded tattoos she couldn't quite read, and a thick cock of roughly five or six inches, sprouting from a wiry mount of black hair, held up by a broad hand decorated with thin scars and thick silver rings. She shuddered to think of the feeling of cold metal sliding against her chest, her throat.
She'd sent a dozen photos of herself, some slightly blurry, some that left her aching from the angle required. Her nipples being pulled, her cunt spread open, hairy, clit large and red, her mouth open with a dildo pressed against her lips.
In part, she did it because while she adored her body, she was not so used to others liking it. Small chest, wide stomach, a thick brown bush of pubic. The idea this man might change his mind upon seeing her was too frightening, despite the ad she'd placed was intended to appeal to those whose tastes ran thick.
Lights blinked at her feet. The roar and whistle of the train got louder, and as always, she thought momentarily about stepping closer, too much closer. The windows blurred past quickly, seats mostly empty but for weary souls and those who had no other bed to call their own.
The doors shuddered open, and she chose a seat far from the small group of learing men at the head of the train. She tugged her thin shirt just a bit lower, angry at herself for not bringing a coat.
Thankfully, the ride went without much issue, and she sent a few more texts to distract herself. Mostly fantasies or wishes to be bent over and ravaged, others updating on location and time. She glanced out the window - one more stop to go. Hesitating as she did, she held her phone up to take a selfie - wouldn't be much use if she left the man wandering around looking for a woman he didn't know. Her hair hung to her shoulders, the blue and green dye bright and new. Her ears and hairline were still stained from it - every time she told herself that "next time" she'd put on petroleum to keep it from getting on her skin, and every time she forgot until it was all done. Her eyeliner was a little smudged - sweat came easy - and the wings were uneven, but she intended to end the night with them weighed down by a strange man's cum.
"Goddamn," was the only response, and for a few moments she was terrified the trip had been a waste - but he sent back a photo of himself in a bathroom mirror, smiling. His septum was pierced, and his eyebrow scarred. The man's jaw was wide, square, and his teeth a little crooked, but not off-putting.
The train shook to a stop, and the doors whipped open. She stood too quickly, nearly falling down with the aftershock, but gripped the edge of the seat just in time.
The walk to the escalator was short, but the cold night air wasted no time in its assault. The breeze made her shiver, but a quick look at her phone told her she'd be in a warm car as soon as she made it to the parking lot outside of the metro station.
It was dark but for the pitiful yellow lights from the streetlamps. Only one car was in the lot, but she couldn't bring herself to walk towards it. She waved, unsure.
Waving back was a man at least two heads taller than herself, looking her up and down with nothing short of awe.
"Hey! You're-?" he cut himself off, holding his phone up with their last exchange visible, a PG conversation consisting of selfies and questions concerning arrival time.
She smiled, "Yeah," and then cleared her throat, trying to make herself louder. "Yeah. Um. I'm Jesse." It crossed her mind to shake his hand, and she nearly laughed out loud at the mental image.
"Alan," his voice was deep and rumbling. He gestured to the passenger side door, and after taking a photo of his license plate, she moved to get in. (In response to the picture, a few friends gave her reponses varying from "Stay safe!" to "YEAAAHHH GET SOME, GIRL!! ;D")
When he started the car, a rock song blarred, and he turned it down to a low murmur before pulling onto the road. His hand rested on her thigh. The skin-on-skin contact was warm, and she hoped her gasp wasn't too obvious. One of the ringed fingers stroked a circle, and she looked over to his lap - a bulge was growing, straining against his jeans. Biting her lip, she imagined sucking him off then and there, but couldn't will herself to do it.
Another time.
It seemed like seconds before they pulled into another parking lot, a small cluster of apartment buildings ahead. Alan waved to someone passing them on the sidewalk, and Jesse looked down at the ground, wondering if the passerby knew.
Her worries didn't last - in no time they were in an elevator, pulling up to a 5th story hallway. Alan strolled ahead, putting his key into a door at the end, leading them both inside. It was small, with overpowering windows that overlooked the city and cars of people making their way to the night shift. The floor had a few empty soda cans here and there, but for the most part, it was clean. Jesse sat down on the couch while Alan disappeared into the kitchen, bringing back a bottle of whiskey and shot glasses for them both.
They chatted easily, laughing and asking questions. Jesse noticed that she was downing the shots much more than Alan, but didn't mind. He didn't cut her off, but did insist she stop trying to pour the shots herself after she spilled some - but he didn't stop her from licking up what she'd spilled off the table, and it made her laugh at how ridiculous the sight must have been. There, on her knees in front of the table, she turned herself to plant her face in his lap.
He put his glass down, stroking her hair softly while she unbuttoned his pants. He helped pull his cock out, holding it up for her to press into her mouth. It was warm, heavy. She could never get over how delicious this tasted. She stopped to pull her shirt and bra off over her head, letting her tits hang between his legs. Making eye contact, she took one nipple in her hand, bobbing her head further down his shaft while rubbing herself, bringing the large, puffy nipple into a hard, erect bead.
