Warnings: This is a long story that involves group sex, swapping partners, and a brief lesbian scene, as well as a short episode of non consensual incest. It could have been placed in group sex, or erotic couplings, or in exhibitionism. I chose exhibitionism.
***********************
Leila had a long commute to work. She lived in deep Brooklyn and took the Number 5 train into Manhattan. She began at the end of the line, at the Flatbush stop, and she always sat in the very last car of the ten-car long train. Leila had noticed that as the train gradually filled up and got crowded, usually very crowded, the last car always was the least crowded.
Leila typically brought a book to read during her commute, which lasted a little less than an hour. She continued up to Grand Central Station, where she got off and walked to the office building where she worked. She was a creature of habit, at least as far as her commute was concerned.
Derek had a similar situation, and he boarded the #5 train at the second to last stop, namely Newkirk Avenue. Unlike Leila, he picked any car to sit in, more or less at random. However, he got off the train at Union Square, since he worked at a high-tech office close to that stop. Union Square is one stop before Grand Central, since the 5 train is an express train.
Derek usually did not bring a book to read. Instead he looked at the pretty office workers, always sharply dressed, who rode the trains along with him. He liked to imagine dating them, but he lacked the courage ever to approach one of them. Besides, often the women sported rings with rocks the size of Gibraltar on their ring fingers of their left hands. Derek was single, and he wanted a single woman. The subway was not the place to find his true love, but it was a nice place to fantasize. And fantasize he did.
Derek had developed methods of not being too obvious while he stared at the women. In the tunnels, one often had reflections of some of the passengers in the windows, and Derek would study those, rather than looking directly at the women themselves. Nobody seemed to mind him doing that.
The various women were of course quite different, one from the other. Derek reasoned that each woman knew her strengths and her flaws, at least as it concerned appearance. If she had good legs, she would sport short skirts. If she had large (but not too large) boobs, she would show some cleavage. Usually it was just a tease, but some ladies would offer a generous display. If the woman had a cute butt, she would wear tight skirts, or very tight jeans. Yoga pants were also possible, and much appreciated, Derek thought.
This was all fun to notice and to appreciate. The way Derek thought about it, some people like to go to a museum and look at the wonderful paintings, with the different styles of the great artists that humanity has enjoyed over the last millennia. For him, the women riding the #5 subway train constituted his museum, and the ever-changing display of humanity on its way to work was a joy to behold.
Derek also noticed that some women were shy about their bodies, some less shy, and some really liked dressing to attract the attention of men like Derek. Derek loved them all.
It was a Monday when, just by chance, Derek entered the very last car of the Number 5 train. There at the end of the car sat Leila, already deeply engrossed in a novel. Leila favored trashy romance novels, and she had the third Breathless book, Burn, by one of her favorite authors, Maya Banks. Leila was not the type to call attention to herself, but she did not have to do so. She was so pretty, in a demure and seductive way (at least for Derek's taste) that she was captivating, no matter how she was dressed.
Derek knew it was not unusual for women commuters to read novels during their commutes. He liked it, because often they did not notice his wandering eyes, as he would focus on them, undressing them in his mind, or imagining having an affair with them. Leila was dressed to slightly emphasize her legs, but Derek instantly knew that she was the entire package: legs, boobs, and ass. Layla had a body to die for. Best of all, she had a pretty face to go with her body, and a twinkle in her eye as she read her novel.
Derek did not know what the book was; he could not see. But he liked how absorbed she was in reading it: Here was a woman who used her intellect the old-fashioned way. The book was even a real book: No Kindles involved! And she was not playing a game on her iPhone, nor was she catching up on her sleep while sitting in front of strangers. This pretty woman, with her perfect body, pretty face framed by healthy, luscious hair, was Derek's dream woman.
There were no rings on her fingers. Indeed, he could see no jewelry at all. Her hair might hide earrings, and perhaps she wore a cross around her neck, but from his line of sight he could not tell.
The next day Derek boarded the #5 train as usual, but this time he made a point of choosing the last car. There at the end of the car sat his dream girl. He longed to know her name. But he knew that was not possible. They rode in silence, neither acknowledging the other in correct subway commuter etiquette, until Derek left the train at the Union Square station.
Derek now always sat in the last car. Occasionally Leila would not be there. Gradually he realized she must have been in the previous or the subsequent train. Derek modified his behavior: When the first #5 train came to the station, he would check the last car to see if Leila were there; if she was, he would enter. If Leila were not in the train, he would wait for the next #5 train. The trains ran around 8 minutes apart. Derek thought it was not too long to wait for a girl like Leila.
The two, Derek and Leila, continued silently to share the space of the last car of one of the early (circa 6:30am) #5 trains every working day for at least six weeks. Every day Derek studied Leila, usually by looking at her reflection in the train's windows, rather than directly at Leila.
A key moment arrived when at Union Square, the stop for Derek, Leila dropped her book. Derek suspected she did it intentionally. Quick as a bunny, he raced over and picked it up for her. He was rewarded with a smile, a shy look of thanks, and a wonderful look down her blouse.
His memory of Leila's smile kept Derek going for days. The memory of her perfect breasts, lovingly encased in a minimalist lace bra, also kept him going.
The second key moment came when Leila left the train at the Brooklyn Bridge stop, the last stop before Union Square on the express trains. This was unprecedented, and Derek was puzzled. He reasoned she had an appointment downtown or something, and when done, she would continue to work. As she left, she walked by Derek and squeezed his hand around a note. She then quickly left as the train's doors closed.
Leila had felt tremendous pressure from her mother to have a serious boyfriend. Her mother thought at 25 she was too old to still be single. So, Leila had lied, claiming to have one. She had to give details, and she had used Derek, her silent admirer from the subway, as the proxy for her boyfriend when giving descriptions. Describing the nonexistent sex they had to her sister was more of a challenge. Good thing that Leila had a creative streak a mile wide. Now she had to visit her mother and sister, and worse, to bring her nonexistent boyfriend with her.
Derek sat there, mesmerized by the touch of this woman's soft, angelic hands. He tried to bottle the feeling of her hand on his, to remember it always. Their first touch. Finally, as the train pulled into Union Square, Derek opened his hand and read the note.
Leila had left the train at Brooklyn Bridge. She waited on the platform, and she took the very next train, so as not to be late for work. The entire reason she had left the train at the Brooklyn Bridge stop was to give Derek the note.
The note said the following: "Derek: Call me tonight, please, after 9pm. Leila, 718-555-7268." Derek stared at the note. Her name was Leila. He was going to speak with her! Then he began to get panicked. How did she know his name? How did she know he was interested in her? Maybe she was going to tell him to stop stalking her? Maybe she would say stop or she'll call the police?
When he calmed down, after a quick Xanax, he realized that one time coming home he had forgotten to remove his ID, which the new security in his building requires him to wear at all times. She must have seen it, in "their" last car on the #5 train. Often, they took different trains home, as his quitting time was somewhat random, but occasionally they would be together in the last car. Yes, it must be that!
He could not wait until 9pm! He was too excited to eat dinner. He was not at all prepared for what she might say. He would get to hear her voice, too! They had yet to speak to each other, of course. What exactly was going on?
Derek called precisely at 9pm. Here is how the phone call went:
L: "Hello? This is Leila."
D: "Hi Leila. This is Derek. I got your note of course, and I am calling you, as you asked."
L: "Thank you. I know you've been noticing me on the subway, and I've been noticing you, too. You are a quite handsome man."
D: "I am? Well, I'm glad you think so. I think you are beautiful."
L: "You're making me blush, but thank you. Look, I'll get right to it. I have a favor to ask, and of course you should feel free to say no. It's completely inappropriate and I am embarrassed to ask it of you."
D: "If I can help you, Leila, I'll be happy to. I feel almost as if we are friends."
L: "It's a big favor, and totally inappropriate. I apologize in advance for asking."
D: "No need. No worries. I'll do what I can."
L: "Okay, here it is. Next weekend I am going to visit my parents. It's complicated, but they think I have a serious boyfriend. I don't, and in fact I have never had one. Not a serious one, that is. I need to bring a boyfriend. I want to ask you to pretend to be my boyfriend. It's for an entire three-day weekend. This is so embarrassing!" Leila started to cry.
D: "Sweet Leila. Please don't cry. I can't bear to hear you cry." Derek noticed Leila had a sexy low voice. If she sang, she would be an alto. Maybe even a contralto?
L: "There's not much time. Could you give me an answer tomorrow?"
D: "I can give you one now. The answer is yes."
L: "There's more, too. Can we go out tomorrow night? Get to know each other a bit? I need this to be convincing. Also, can you pretend to be Jewish? I told my parents my boyfriend is Jewish. I am so sorry to ask so much!"
D: "Yes to all. And I am in fact Jewish, at least on my mother's side. I even had a Bar Mitzvah, long ago."
