A jumper and a skirt; black with red trim on top, red with black trim below. The hemline of the skirt reaches down halfway to my knees and my black socks fall a dozen centimeters short of kissing it. Between the two is a tantalizing glimpse of skin, just enough to tickle the fancy, a gap embodying the facade I'd shed throughout the years.
I'm kneeling on my bed, legs together as I stare at the ceiling. I leave the uniform on out of a sense of nostalgia. Mostly on, anyway. The tie goes into my hands, turning into a sturdy knot with a few deft moves and I give it a solid tug to test its strength. The material sings to me with a snap as it deforms but holds fast to the chandelier. One corner of my mouth twists up into a smile as I hold my slept in hair out the way and fit the tie over my head, letting it settle around my collar before I take a deep breath. My hands are sweaty, shaking with anxious anticipation; I wipe them across my tartan skirt in a half-hearted effort to dry my palms before grabbing the tie again and tightening the knot around my neck. I exhale slowly as it comes to a snug fit and rub my hand over the material, feeling the restraint it offered surge my body with ecstasy.
It flows down my collar and through my chest, amplifying the beating of my heart as butterflies fill my stomach. My hand quickly follows behind, reaching up under my jumper to circle my belly-button. The feeling spreads out in in every direction, forming tiny waves that wax and wane as I reach into my bra and softly stroke a nipple. The little ripples of pleasure collapse back into a unified whole and continue their journey even lower. My lip is quivering as the feeling reaches my hips and ever so slowly creeps under my panties... then stops.
I know exactly what I must do to get the feeling back and I am not afraid.
As I pull my hand from the thick jumper and stand, I look at my reflection in the mirror closely, trying to see myself as other people see me: previously mohawked, raven-colored hair splayed out over my temples, wide-set cheekbones and broad nose, unremarkable lips and dark, innocent eyes. I strike a pose, but slump back into my previous state as I realize I look ridiculous. I blow my bangs up out of my eyes then throw the loose end of the tie over the chandelier. I step to the edge of the wrinkled mattress and ball my fists.
"Do it, Hideko."
I post my foot out and pause, "Just... step."
I shut my eyes tight and take a deep breath, "One... two..."
***
It was on a train. Not my usual, I had missed that one. This train seemed abandoned compared to the rush hour. The window panes were being pelted with droplets of rain. I had stayed out late shopping with my girlfriend Tara. I was alone in a dark car, thinking about how effervescent she had been as blurry lights rushed by the streaked windows. She had missed me after having spent a few weeks back in Toronto on business. Her total and complete focus on me, on making me happy, warmed me even hours later in that silent space as the ride gently rocked me in place.
The illumination in the train car at the next boarding station jolted me out of my reflection. While I held to the pole, blinded, a couple of new passengers brushed past me and settled-in nearby. The overhead lights flicked off just as my eyes were adjusting. I tried to blink away the colorful shapes obstructing my vision when I heard subdued laughter to my right.
Her muffled whispers made my head turn before I could see clearly again. Slick with rainwater, their joined bodies were illuminated shadows. The thick aroma of petrichor wafted off their bodies and into my lungs. I could taste her arousal. She was sat atop his lap and his hand was climbing her thigh. He sounded like a full grown man, maybe middle aged, and her high pitched register was that of a girl, not a woman. There was a shape in her hand, something shiny. It looked like a piece of ornate jewelry, freshly purchased. I was struck by the unsolicited realization of what I was watching, but I could not stop my body from reacting. All the heat rushed to my loins as I watched these two daredevils plant kisses on each others' necks, egging each other on. She spread her legs under his ministrations, inviting him in further. I tried to be circumspect at first, but after a few moments gave up the pretense of not watching them.
These two were shameless in their breaking of the law. The man's rough, wrinkled hand went up her skirt, to which she opened herself further. She moaned into his ear, whispering things I couldn't unhear. The man lewdly licked at the joining of her shoulder and neck; the slurping noise filled my ears over the wet taps on the windows. I could feel myself blushing profusely. I wanted to look away, but my eyes were fixed, even as my head turned. It felt like they were putting on a show just for me. Their behavior became ever more transparent as a larger cluster of city lights flashed by. He bared her breast, squeezing it with adolescent urgency. Their escalating indecency made me shiver.
I realized I was squeezing my thighs together, grinding them against the thin, white barrier housing my eager sex. The soft material of my panties brought me some relief as it rubbed my nub. Her yelp and bucking hips told me the man was servicing her well. I bit my lip and straddled the pole I held on to. I ground my sex against it - the feel of cold metal a most welcome balm for the heat between my legs.
Those wet shades flowed together like a boiling ocean: his tongue on her face, her grip on his crotch. Their euphony of sighs drove my pussy up and down the pole in a fever pitch. I set my feet further apart and it split my lips apart through the cotton, the vibration of the train shattering my reserved nature. I stared at the translucent wet spot on my panties and the thin trail of desire slowing sinking down the pole as the train finally reached my station. I looked up and saw the man smiling at me. We locked eyes. The arousal I felt was overpowering: that kind that makes you feel sick in the pit of your gut.
The train's doors opened, flooding the car with light again, so I shielded my eyes. The heavy scent of rain was on my lips before I thought to dash away from wet gust the opened doors invited. My hands padded at my legs to dry them and I found my vision filled with stars, despite my efforts. I was distracted, but I never felt them pass by me. The doors closed again as the stars went away. I was soaked, they were gone.
***
"...three."
I step off my bed and the tie goes taut, swinging me back and forth just as designed. My airway constricts, squeezed shut by my own weight. My hands fly over my body in a flash, one hand pulling my panties to the side, the other furiously rubbing my lips in a circular motion as each breath is choked out of me. I would give my clit some attention, but the sensation of being strangled sends a jolt of pure bliss straight through my pussy. Just a single brush against my hard nub causes me to spasm, my feet kicking wildly.
I'm not quite wet yet, but the sensation of being hung forces a mnemonic rolodex past my eyes. Insistent memories force their way into my conscious mind, filling my awareness with past deeds. It ignites the fire in my core and allows me to work my fingers faster, my fleshy lips plumping up fatter with every passing second while my clit protrudes out from under its hood.
I try to control the parade of images, sensations, but the stranglehold on my body nullifies my efforts. I am turned into a restrained voyeur, fucking myself to the exposure of my own affairs and cocksure flirtations with danger. And the people, all of them, the big talking flakes, the bastards who take without seeking permission, the amenable fools who indulge me, they all fill me at once. It is overwhelming, but that only forces more blood to my cunt and a growing intensity to my self-pleasure.
I feel my cheeks redden and my body dangle. The memory collage begins building a bigger picture, just as my fingers straighten and sink between my folds to explore my pussy.
***
"Goddamnit, Hideko." Tara was upset with me. It was my fault.
"What?" I should have been upfront with her. I should have done a lot of things.
"How is that a solution?" He made me feel more.
"It would be fun. Just the two of us like it was before." She felt like home.
"I don't like how casually you talk about cheating." Having them both at the same time was transcendent.
"It is your fault I like dick." It stopped happening after her business trip to Belgium.
"So you're going to throw
that
in my face?" I fucked him that whole week.
"I wasn't the one who met him." He was still dripping down my thighs when I met her at the airport.
