The blare of the subway horn disrupted my daydream while waiting to go home. It was late night and I was stuck in Brooklyn after a concert with my girlfriends. I wasn't really a subway kinda gal, but my phone was dead and the cabs costed a fortune so I decided to straphang.
The subway car was surprisingly packed for 11PM, but I guess that's just New York. It never shuts the fuck up. I'd moved here two decades ago, and now at 42 felt like I'd experienced everything. Apparently, though, I was wrong.
As the L train cozied up to the next stop, a few people exited, but even more entered. One of those newcomers was a very tall, very muscular, and very handsome, I might add, young black man. He was in a wifebeater, arms and shoulders bulging as he barged in. His cocky demeanor and showboat swagger screamed early 20s, and I flushed with embarrassment at getting hot for someone nearly the same age as my son!
He must've seen me bite my lip because he beelined to the open spot behind me, then put an arm on the pole by my head.
"Damn lil' mama, what's your name?" he leaned in.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes, turning to avoid eye contact. Twenty years in New York will make any woman numb to catcalls, but I had to admit I was flattered. He was young and handsome, I had already exited youth and was heading towards middle age, and even though my body stayed tight, I did miss some of the attention.
"I'm serious, sweetheart," he prodded, this time placing his left hand on my hip. His right was still holding the pole, and my petite body sank back into him as the packed train jostled. "I wanna get to know you."
I had to admit his body felt nice. It had been a while since my husband made me melt with just a touch. Since it was only harmless flirtation... I decided to play along and looked back. The man had a warm smile, but there was a hint of lascivious perversion hiding underneath. Just enough to make my thighs warm...
"Please, I could be your mother," I responded in a joking manner, half-attempting to escape his tightening grasp, half enjoying it...
"Maybe that's why I like you," he whispered back, then slid his left hand from my hip onto my bare leg.
I was wearing a tight cocktail dress so my skin was easily accessible. He traced from the outside of my thigh across the front until his long fingers curled around my inner gap. When he gripped my soft flesh, a heat I hadn't felt in years coursed through my crotch, and I let out a breathy, sensual exhale that could not be misconstrued.
"I knew you'd like that, pretty lady," he told me while rubbing up and down my inner leg.
His hands were so large and hot, my neglected pussy couldn't take it anymore--it began leaking into my panties. As I shivered back into the young man, who must've stood at least 6'5", I felt quite scandalous. I'm a married woman for Christ's sake! But the way he made me feel--so deliciously weak and controlled--is something I've always craved.
My own husband came in around 5'10", had foregone working out years ago, and definitely wasn't a "take charge" kind of guy. Don't get me wrong I love him to death, but does his body "drive me wild with desire" (Liza Minnelli, Cabaret)? Not so much.
"What's your name, honey?" the stranger asked, a finger now brushing dangerously close to my lacy thong.
"Hnnggg, uhhhh," I breathed. "C-candace."
"Now that's a proper white lady name," he laughed. "I'm Demar, and it's very nice to meet you."
"Uhhhh...!"
My passion squealed out as Demar slid his long finger passed my panties, straight into my yearning cunt! I couldn't believe he had violated me like that! I thought about making a scene, but a titillating upwards curl left me unable to speak, and only pathetic, needy moans escaped. He wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer while exploring my pink insides.
"Shhhh..." he whispered. "You don't want anyone to hear, do you?"
It was getting hard to suppress my wanton moans. Every time he re-entered my wet slot I wanted to cry out with pleasure! This man's fingers were getting me so riled up. But he's right, we're in public! And I have a ring on my finger!!! I looked back and shook my head pathetically.
"Good. Then you just stay quiet now and let Daddy play with his little girl."
The taboo of him pretending to be older made me feel terribly submissive, and though it was ridiculous to be referred to as a "little girl", that's how I felt around this experienced sexual beast. I could tell he knew his way around a woman, and I was flushed with nervous excitement about what I might learn if I stayed. I thought my sex life had probably already peaked, but Demar had thus far only used one finger!
"You got nice titties on you, girl," he commented from above.
He wasn't wrong. I do have nice tits. To be frank, I have a pretty rockin' bod that's aged gracefully. My tummy's still trim, my breasts are large but not yet overly pendulous, and my ass and hips are healthy and round. I wore this dress to show off, since I've been wanting to feel sexy again, and I guess it worked.
"Thanks..." I whispered, still aware that we were surrounded by people. "You're um... pretty big," I reciprocated with a stroke to his muscular forearm.
Now that I'd accepted his advances, he grunted and shoved in another finger. I was his, at least for a little while.
"That's not all that's big, baby," he replied with an expert hip grind.
"Oh my..." I gasped as I arched my ass back and felt the cobra in his sweatpants.
My husband and I married very early, and aside from a few flirtations I haven't strayed far. He's quite average down there, so with minimal extramarital experience I was shocked by the massive slab rubbing against me. Demar pulled me closer and humped it up and down my tight dress.
"Oh, you're hot for me alright," he chuckled upon seeing my animalistic response.
I started bucking faster on his fingers, nearly causing my juices to spew on the floor, or worse, someone's pants! I attempted to calm myself, but simply couldn't with this young sex god's massive digits contorting my insides. My pussy walls thickened around his fingers and sucked, begging to be stuffed deeper.
"Relax, lil' mama, we still got a few stops."
I'd completely forgotten about my destination--and husband!--in the midst of our carnal dance. Before I could check our location, Demar placed his thumb on my growing clit and pressed.
"Mmmmmm... UH!" Fortunately, my loud groans were silenced by the wailing subway.
His thumb continued its aggressive assault, pushing and prodding against my little clit until it hardened, engorged with passion. With two fingers still jammed in me, I felt like I was on sexual fire! I was grinding and writhing against Demar's giant, hard body. He tapped my sensitive nub over and over, fluids now coating his hand.
"I know you need more," he astutely declared. "I know this isn't enough for a little slut like you." Of course, he was right....
