She wanted to put the phone down - or at least, part of her did. In some secluded, semi-detached corner of her brain, she considered the people around her; the publicity of a mid-afternoon train ride, the visibility of her phone's screen, the audibility of the headphones over her ears. She wanted to hide the display, turn and look about herself to see if anyone was watching. She wanted to test to see if she was beginning to show signs of what she was feeling, and whether or not she was, she wanted to hide herself from all of them. She wanted to say 'babe, stop, you're embarrassing me - I'm on the train!' or hang up the call until she got off.
But she couldn't do it. The most her mouth would do was to open slightly, her tongue snaking outwards as the words failed to form on her drying lips. The sound of his laughter, short and distorted through his phone's microphone, chided her, teased her. She felt their sting, but she knew it wasn't malicious or shameful; rather, the short laugh at her expense made her feel something far more physical. Even as he stared at him on her screen, watching her as she struggled to break free from his image, they both knew it was already too late.
'Don't you stop watching me now,' he said, stepping back into his bedroom, the phone propped up on the desk underneath their window. 'Although we both know you can't, can you?' And as he said it, he put his hands to the back of his neck and pulled the shirt from his skin. Chocolate ripples appeared in the filtered sunshine of the bedroom, and she felt a thrill form between her legs and slither up her spine. She tried to tell him to stop, that if he kept going, she would- she might- that something could happen, here on this train in broad daylight... But she could only watch, her dark eyes wide as she watched him on her phone.
She had her legs up, knees pressed against the seat in front of her. Her frizzy black hair was up in a messy yet attractive ponytail, and above it she wore her headphones, a pair of brushed silver metal over-ears. She had a simple red jumper on and blue jeans, and though you couldn't see it from her seated position, she filled both out as only a black woman can do. Capping off the outfit, she had black lace-up boots on, not big, but with enough heel to tilt her hips and bring the top of her head up to her friend's heights. She'd been out today with her girlfriends; they'd shopped, though she hadn't bought much, happy just to eat and laugh and try things on. Her partner had been at home, having some work to do in the morning before knocking some household chores out in the afternoon. Evidently, he had grown... needy, in her absence, and so had called her. Video called, no less - a combination certain to rob her of any resistance to him, and he knew it.
On her tiny screen, she watched as the trackpants covering his legs fell away, trying not to acknowledge the feeling of her heart racing in her chest or the warmth spreading throughout her body. She could see it, see the bulge in his - no, no don't think about it. Maybe he wouldn't- maybe he was just going to tease her- Maybe...
But her silent mental pleas were not to come true. Staring into her screen, her lower lip curling into her mouth to position itself between two sets of clenching teeth, she watched as the underpants encasing his last remaining body parts slipped over his skin. It caught in the waistband, pulling down with them. He knew what he was doing. Knew that it was the head that she was tuned to. Knew that seeing it in full would push her past the point of no return. Even as that golden brown shaft began to reveal itself, she could feel the aching throb beginning to pound between her legs as her body started to need what she was seeing.
Then, it popped free, swinging up into the air in front of him, thick and long. She gasped, the sound throaty and pitchy at the end - she hated herself for the obviously horny noise but her brain was running on auto-pilot now and she was just a passenger inside it. She could practically feel the wetness emanating from within her depths and soaking into her crotch as his erect member drew in her focus. He approached the phone and picked her up, his cock going out of frame. As his face came back into view, she felt what almost seemed like a gravitational pull towards him, down and forwards as if her body were being magnetized to the shaft, now out of view below her phone. She groaned softly, needily, her headphones relaying the sounds she made back to him in their own bedroom. He grinned, entirely aware of what he was doing to her - of what he had
done
to her to make her like this.
'How you doing over there, baby?' he asked, his face taking up the screen as he moved around the bedroom. Not trusting herself enough to respond, she just stared wide-eyed back at him. 'Enjoying the view?' He grinned. 'I sure am. Look at that stunned little face - you look like you're trying your hardest not to squeeze those tits together like you know I like.'
As if saying it had just affirmed something she had been desperate to do, she groaned softly, her free hand - which had previously been pressed into the apex of her lap in a fist - already moving unbidden up to the tit beneath her red jumper. She had the willpower enough just to slide the hand over it, giving a half-baked impression to any on-looker that she was simply adjusting something and not intent on pressing her fingers hard into the soft flesh and twisting. Her headphones tutted at her as the light on his face changed. 'Shame, I know you need it. Luckily for you, I don't want you to do that right now... Or, anything, for that matter. Just watch me. Watch me and what I can do to you.' He moved the phone a little in his hands, and a moment before it happened, she realized where he was and what he was going to do, a tiny bolt of dread shooting like a bullet through her as she realized her doom was sealed. 'Watch what I can do to you... With this.'
The camera froze for a second, and then it changed. Suddenly, her boyfriend's glowing face was replaced with a view of their bedroom from the perspective of their bed. She could just make out their wardrobes in the background, the sunlight from the window casting across the wall and the side of the bed. But it was the scene on the bed that drew her gaze in and locked it there. There, his legs parted besides it and one hand moving towards it was his cock. It was hard, ready. When it was like this, she was usually beneath it waiting for it to unload on her face, or on top of it, reaching down to guide that thick helmet into her body. Sometimes, she would be reaching out for it with her hands or wrapping her breasts around it. But no matter what she did, anytime she saw it like this, she would pleasure it, and it would pleasure her right back.
Now was no different, despite the distance. As the train sped up out of one of its many stops along the journey, so to did her heart, thumping quicker and quicker in her chest as she gazed into the black member filling her phone. Her blood thundered in her veins, her thighs tensely clamped together as she watched him take it in his fist and begin to slide, slide his hand up and down its length, drawing the skin back and forth, gently stroking the sensitive length she knew so well. She exhaled a shuddering, horny breath and put that damn hand back between her legs, quickly sandwiching her palm between burning thighs as his fist tightened, his pace quickening. It was all she could do not to make a noise, not to start to fuck herself as she gazed wide-eyed and unable to resist into her screen, her lower lip entirely in her mouth at this point. She panted softly as he sped up, so horny that her hips had begun to twist gently against the side of her hand of their own accord. The train be damned, she thought despite that tiny, screaming portion of her brain. She was so fucking heated that she wouldn't care if she plunged herself onto the nearest fence pole and rode for home. All she could do was her best not to scream out or buck as her boyfriend's irresistible cock drew her with it on the climb towards orgasm.
The train sped up, rocketing towards the next station. It was a partial express, and it passed several minor stops at speed as it thundered forwards. At one point it passed through a short tunnel, and for that period everything lit up on the train glowed like a lamp. Even if no one had been able to see the sexually engaged man on her phone, for a few seconds he would have lit up her face like a tiny torch, his cock reflecting in her huge dark eyes as they stared into it. By now, she didn't care anymore. She rocked gently into her hand, minute yet pleasurable movements helping to stimulate the tender flesh yearning to be touched between her legs. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, sucking air through her nose as a shuddering wave of wetness rose deep inside her like a tsunami offshore.
The cock in his hands disappeared as his fist sped up, the tip moving as his hand massaged it. She could practically feel what it felt, so used to worshipping it was she. She knew by his pace and roughness that he was close, knew how that glorious manhood was feeling as his load welled up, ready to explode outwards. She could hear his groans, his pants, his exertions - unlike the train, their bedroom was quiet, so she could even hear the soft slap of his wrist as he pumped himself. Every sound and motion drove her harder and she swallowed a moan as she watched that damn helmet push though his hand, faster and faster, closer and closer until...
The sun appeared through the window, emerging from behind a line of trees as the train finished a turn. It sped up and quickly hit maximum speed, rocking the passengers as it shot forwards. It was only a few minutes from the next stop, and would start to slow down very soon.
The brown penis on her phone screen suddenly stiffened, and he held it upright as the first wad of white fluid shot into the air, landing with a soft
