Tess Takes The Train

Tess Takes the Train

Tess hated taking the train but motherhood had made the other commuters terribly obliging after the first two months. Whether it was her glow or seeing her in tow with her husband, Jack, there was always a seat and admiring glances waiting. She had expected pregnancy would be her with the train even more crowded thanks to her baby bump padding the space between her, Jack and the other commuters. Ironically most gave her a wide birth, which she was all the more thankful for as she found her tummy wasn't the only baby bump mother nature had given her.

"You staring again?" Tess looked back over her shoulder.

"Y..yep," Jack grinned dumbly, "I love how you look in those pants."

Tess chuckled, feeling more than a bit self conscious being ogled by her husband in the

train depot, amongst the masses "I'm just glad Beth was understanding, and is letting me wear

yoga pants to work. We don't have the money for new slacks."

"I need to write her a thank you letter," Jack teased.

"Oh stop," Tess blushed, she didn't even like her leggings "If she okays bootie shorts, then you can thank her."

"Was that ever an option?"

"Nope," she smiled cheekily, tossing her chestnut mane of hair over her shoulder flirtaciously "You're enjoying this though, aren't you?"

She didn't know why she bothered to even ask. She had heard before pregnancy actually increased the bonding between couples but she always figured if was more emotional but an itch like she had never known before had begun to fester up in the girl who before needed a serenade and carefully placed caress to coax out desire. Now she could be set off by something as simple as a dirty word or raised brow, a hint of mischief in Jack's eyes or wry smile.

For once Jack's appetites were having trouble keeping up with her own. The glow that people often regarded as innocent was the first hint at a greater change in the timid girl she no longer could relate to. She had gone from a demure girl happy to make love perhaps twice a week to someone who needed the stimulation several times a day. Already she was feeling the tingle of desire needling at the back of her thoughts. That need had played more than a little part in her decision to stick to her yoga pants. Though slacks were a little beyond her budget it was not beyond her means. She wore the tights because of the way Jack looked at her. She even moved the way she did, the sashay she practiced in front of the mirror to draw his eyes to the way motherhood had reshaped her curves into something sinful.

Tess' eyes scanned the screens displaying the train schedule. The summer was a particularly heavy time for commuters. Only half the trains and twice the people, she was grateful for those people who could sense motherhood on her and gave her the space now more than ever most could not afford. If anyone would get special treatment it was her.

The sound of the train coming up on the tracks early stole her gaze from the screens and she took off for the platform, Jack close behind. For the next hour her and Jack would be stuck in the scramble of lower east side until the train pulled into Queens. It was hardly the place for a passionate embrace though at times she wished for the nerve to grind her ass into Jack's crotch while they rode, the vibrations and friction pushing her over the edge.

Around them the rush of commuters moved like a wave tossing swimmers. Jack and Tess could've tried to stand still but still be scattered amongst the other passengers. The flux hurtled them past the doors and turning to look back over her shoulder, Tess lost the familiar shape of Jack in her periphery.

"Jack...?" she shouted as best she could over the shoulders and heads crowding the car.

"Over here, honey!" Jack shouted, his back to the door between this car and the next.

Tess sighed, wondering if she could scramble around the men and women and get to him, there was an unyieldingness to the masses today though. Though people looked back at her with a familiar glance of awareness, none were granting her the polite distance she preferred. The car was particularly crowded today and it was still filling with people.

"Can you reach me?" she stood on her tiptoes, her eyes looking over the shoulders of her

neighbors to meet Jack's gaze.

Jack nodded, looking between the bodies to find a path back to his wife. With a sudden jolt the car was in motion and the other passengers shifting like wind-chimes against a breeze. He started to move, doing his best to brace himself over the shimmying of motion. shifting between the bodies, toward Tess in the distance, a strange feeling overcoming him as he watched two of the male passengers approach her. He wasn't sure just what it was, perhaps the way they moved.

Between their two silhouettes Tess stood looking expectantly ravishing. He forgot sometimes

just how much beautiful motherhood had made her.

Tess' eyes moved between the world passing behind the glass and Jack failing to move closer. She thought about raising their little one in the city and amongst all these people. It didn't take long for the thought of the birth to drag her back to thoughts of the conception. More than anything else, the drive to have sex was one divorced from consequence now. Before she could count on intercourse meaning birth control, morning after pills, pulling out, what have you, but pregnancy was its own form of birth control. She could fuck literally anyone and feel safe from being knocked up in the grips of early motherhood.

In the glass between her and the streak the buildings had become in the train's haste the reflection of other commuters shuffling closer came into view. Seeing the vague impression of her husband far behind them, she turned her head to gesture him to stay. It wasn't that she didn't miss him but by the time he reached her they would already be back home.

In the gray daylight there was something imposing about the city that disturbed her and she turned her eyes away from the world outside, the shift turning her gaze toward the bodies closest were all men. Their eyes had moved from the knowing variety she knew well to more the male appraising glare now. She wasn't entirely oblivious to the way men, not just Jack looked at her now, though often it was a curt glance before heads turned, feigning disinterest. There was a taboo to sexualizing mothers, expectant or otherwise. Still, her body's metamorphosis was one the other commuters had not anticipated. Though she wasn't one to linger on such things if it sparked Jack's imagination and kindled his desire at home she was all to happy to fan the embers with thoughts of the things her fellow commuters would do to her supple young body given the chance. Oh, the whore she would be in the imaginations of strange men.

Gripping the grab bar tight she wished she was already pulling into the station in Queens.

She couldn't wait to be home. Thoughts grew wild as ivy particularly the longer away she was from home. She was grateful most of her job was just sitting at her desk, the tabletop concealing leggings that didn't always conceal lesser innocent thoughts. By five, as she left work to intercept Jack at the station a countdown had begun in her head, the part of her brain that brewed scenarios to tease Jack into a frenzy at home was already brewing thoughts with nowhere to go.

Now those those musings were running untamed, throwing fantasies to the fire she worried

would boil over the desire growing within her. She tried to focus on thoughts of home but those only dissolved into the things they did at home. She hoped the men congregating nearby just couldn't sense on her the rush of pheromones signaling want in her body. That the scents albeit subdued she was throwing off meant for Jack were filling the air possibly pulling their libidos like a tractor beam toward her. The thought was one she was sure she could shelve for latter and bring up to Jack but instead it was acting like a shower before a hot morning. The air felt thickened and her body grew damp beneath her clothes. Was it hotter than usual today? She didn't think so.

Thoughts swarmed, stirred by the sounds of feet shuffling closer. Were the men moving closer?

Tess gripped the bar tighter. She tried to focus on the outside, to push herself out of her body and far away from thoughts in the shifting puzzle of the city outside. Suddenly the landscape was gone and the wall of the next station was filling the panel of glass. Her reflection floated in the black void, with her arm above her head she was shocked how enormous her breasts suddenly looked. She knew from friends who'd had children between their husband's comments, the sudden proclivity for bumping into things with their chests and incompatibilty of old bras the way the body changed well before she ventured into motherhood. Now though she looked absurd, like a billboard for plastic surgery.

"Jesus..!" she spat in shock.

"Maam..?" a man's voice came over her shoulder, she turned to look back and saw what months ago would seem a boy. Seeing him standing above her, intense mahogany eyes stared out from dark features made Tess unexpectedly quiver.

He had a dark complexion for someone undoubtedly of hispanic discent, broad shoulders,

muscled torso, he looked like he stepped out of a 90s Diet Coke ad, the construction worker oversexed working women lusted over while sipping cola.

Tess had no words. Slowly she turned her gaze back to the glass, unaware at first she had if anything straightened her back, pushing her breasts out further. She saw his eyes in the panel, them not surprisingly canvasing her body and admiring what he saw.

He was looking at her the way Jack was at the station. She swallowed as he thoughtfully sunk his teeth into his lower lip, wishing it was her soft flesh he was biting. Blood was rushing to her head as well as other places. She tried to look past him to Jack across the train car.

Her body had been screaming from the moment she last kissed Jack, and now the weight of the man's eyes on her was pressing her body toward the feeling Jack's lips conjured and the longing for them to venture other places, places that tingled at the thought.

The sensation of the train jerking to a stop jostled her from her throughts. The man's eyes, Jack's lips, her body burgeoning with desire dissipated as the doors to the station slid open and another wave of bodies stampeded in. She watched, slightly detached, as Jack tried to rush toward her before the crowd practically tossed him back toward the door. She had a moment to register his look of defeat and disappointment before she was turning her back to the rest of the train and waiting for it to jolt back into motion.

The jolt was almost enough to distract her from the hand grazing her ass.

She jerked her head back to look over her shoulder and see who was there. Bodies were stacked beside her, the limited space holding the chain of commuters like a mosh pit at a rock concert meant though she had no shortage of faces to blame, gone was the distance needed to look between them and spot a hand.

Shooting a scornful look she slowly withdrew her gaze back to the glass panel and approaching cityscape. The darkness of the tunnel had barely passed when she felt the touch again, fingertips danced their way up her thigh before she felt a palm plant itself firmly on the her left buttock. Looking back again, shock seizing up the features beginning to flush with panic there were too many faces close, at least one playing coy, to face her assailant.

Moving her free hand to her side she swatted back toward her ass, brushing the hand swiftly away. Taking a breath she sighed, flustered by it all. She hated to admit how in the grip of all those swimming and swarming thoughts the hand, even as a stranger's, felt good against her body. If she had any doubt Jack wasn't the only guy who loved the look of her ass in tights she could still feel his phantom handprint.

Behind her bodies were shuffling, more feet scampering the curt steps the little floorspace allowed.

Then she felt the hand again. Whomever it was, he was tenacious and feeling his palm taut to her curves gave a little gasp as he squeezed her to reaffirm his claim. She tried to look back over her shoulder again but the bodies surrounding her were even closer now. Heads almost peeking just over her shoulder. She extended her arm to swat again, her heart stopping when she felt a second hand grip her by the wrist, jerking it to the side.

Blood rushed harder to her face. Her eyes widening with trepidation, the nerve of the man filling her with anger, turning her desire to resolve before she realized between the hand palming her ass and the other holstering her hand by the wrist, both were left.

Oh god, there was two of them. Working in tandem.

Turning her head back, if only so far so they could hear them she pleaded "Let me go..please!"

The owner of the hand at her ass was enjoying the feeling of her firm flesh too much to let go though. She felt the hand move as if memorizing its curvature. He was enjoying too the way she audibly winced with every boastful squeeze he gave it. It was her ass when she stepped onto the train but it was his now. That thought to her horrible realization was fanning a heat that was making her lightheaded.

"Please...stop.." she begged, the hand greedily kneading her supple body, his touch was conjuring something from the ether of her panic. Something basest and depraved.

The other hand, gripping her wrist was yanking it away from her body now, shock sinking its teeth in when suddenly her hand was being pulled flat against a cock-shaped bulge, she winced, trying to reel back her hand before her fingers were forced to traverse along its veiny length. Even through the cotton of the mystery man's slacks she could feel the blood pumping through his engorged shaft.

She felt its throbbing rhythm in her hand. The drumming pulse of blood coursing through his organ telegraphing the pound of his heart quickened by desire. It grew faster at her forced caress, the muscle hammering away as another swelled into something inhuman in her grip, it flexed and to Tess' horror sent her pussy tingling.

Moving her hand down from the bar, a sudden shift in the car along the track nearly toppled her over, the two commuters fervently jerked her back to her feet.

And back to their hands.

Reluctantly she returned her hand to grip the bar, knuckles white from the effort to contain the feelings brought on by her captors. Their hands and more importantly hers were bringing her back to memories of the twisted things she'd whispered to Jack in the grip of passion that she would never in real life commit to.

Fucking strangers in their marital bed. Being spit-roasted by their neighbors during family barbecues. Letting the guy who delivered the milk deliver a few ropes of cum to her face while

Jack was at work. Filthy, depraved things.

But Tess didn't actually want these things of course. No. They were absurd aberrations of an oversexed mind. They were the offspring of hormonal cocktails pouring unseemly amounts of testosterone over her brain like mentos into a coke bottle. They didn't make her quiver the way they made Jack hard.

Not really.

And yet, it felt even better now to imagine it. Other men's hands, other cocks, other's desires spent with her body at their mercy. Why did this idea stimulate her the way it was?

She tried to fight how incredible it felt holding the stranger's cock in her hand, only the thinest of cotton between her and the bulging appendage. It was nothing like Jack's and all the ways it was different was pushing her toward some cliff she had never dared to peer over.

"Let me go...!" she shouted, not quite penetrating the whine of the train over the track.

She struggled to shake off the hands even as her body was screaming no. In the distance the sound of a body shuffling close or trying to approach.

"TESS? What's wrong?" she heard Jack shout back, unable to see her past the throngs of bodies.

At her struggle a third hand moved to hold her in place, starting at her back it caressed a

path around her body to perch itself over her left breast, giving it a heedful squeeze. Heat

bloomed beneath the flesh and kissed to life her nipple at his beckoning touch. Tess moaned

deliriously.

More than ever, with her breasts swelling in preparation for motherhood, Tess loved when Jack played with her breasts. They were easy prey and now she realized not just for her husband.

Tess looked around her. Only men seemed to stare back, none showing the remotest of concern at her shouts so much as snickers and enticement at the sound of her groaning. It was clearly one of unbridled delight. Some tramp getting her rocks off with her friends on the way home. One of these watching faces was leering a path down the front of her top at the hand now greedily mauling her tit, rolling it against his hand like he was trying to massage out a knot in her flesh. Instead it left her shuddering unable to catch her breath, particularly as the fingers crept a path toward the buttons sealing shut the front of her blouse.

She hated to think if he felt this way through the linen of her top how he'd feel against her naked skin.

The thought like the others sent a quivering pulse through her very core.

For a moment, trapped in the chaos of the swarming hands she almost thought he'd stop.

That he'd find the buttons a nuisance enough that his anticipation wane. Instead the fingers combing over her anatomy slid into the groves between the buttons, their tips finding soft pillowy flesh waiting beneath.

Oh god, she thought, his hand feeling like electricity against her skin, its current searching out erogenous zones and nipping at them teasingly, why did this feel good?

She knew why though. She was talking to her body but it was not talking back. It only acknowledged their hands now. Parts of her she had repressed throughout the day were oozing out now, prickling at their touch and beckoning in the way her body was blossoming for more.

She wondered if the man fumbling with her breasts could feel how they seemed to swell with passion. The way they felt when Jack kissed them tenderly they were responding even better now being felt up by a stranger on a train.

Not be be outdone, the hand tracing the curve of her ass started to drift lower. Taking full advantage of the skin-tight taughtness of her lycra spandex the fingers that saw fit to sit on the sidelines were now very adeptly drifting up between her thighs and pressing themselves into the fabric over her sex, finding heat at their fingertips.

Tess gasped. Pleasure burst where their fingers pushed, the material giving way, sunk into her pink flesh, soaking it with desire. She hoped somehow they wouldn't notice, but the hand withdrew, signaling a snicker from behind her as no doubt its owner running the tips of his fingers over his tongue, tasting her. Tess' lip trembled at the thought. Nobody but Jack had ever so much as gone down on her, but now her ambrosia was wet on this stranger's lips, being mulled over by in his mouth like some exotic liquor for him to name.

A flutter was moving through her now, probing her pussy like a tongue, the plunging muscle wringing out ecstasy from every nerve ending. She squeezed the cock at her side hard when the hand returned, shock gripping her even tighter when she realized its owner had pulled himself out from his slacks and she was holding his unsheathed erection in her hand.

She could feel it swell in her hand, ready to burst, the feelings pouring over her too much to stop her hand from traveling up and down its length of its own accord, her thumb brushing the head and pulling a groan from its owner, she wiped her thumb across its tip balming it in his precum. She was no longer in shock how much her body was reeling at the stimulation but wished she could stop herself. She was grateful more than ever that Jack was at the far end of the train, unable to see what a whore she was being.