Riding on the Metro

I had watched her for a week. She would get on at L’Enfant and get off at Virginia Square. I would only see her in the morning. Usually, her short hair hung loosely around her face but today she had pinned it back, and it made her look attractive. More so than she normally did. Her green eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lights that made most of us look like we were underdone pieces of meat. She wore dresses, without exception. Today she wore a grey striped worsted wool dress and blazer. The dress was likely sleeveless and given today’s expected heat I thought it was a bit much, but maybe her office was cold. She carried a trendy black leather purse that was big enough for a small laptop or tablet. Usually, she was lost in the crowd only moments after she got on but today there were fewer people, and she sat down next to me. It being Friday, I was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. I had my tablet shoved into a pocket of my vest, and the only thing mildly interesting about me was the pineapples on my sneakers. To be fair, the pineapples were wearing sunglasses.

“Nice shoes,” she said

“Thanks. I thought they would be fun today.”

“I could use some fun. But you know, work.”

“And pretty inflexible work too I would guess. Most shops have dumped formal attire, and only a few dinosaurs insist on something that dressy, regardless of how good it looks on you.”

“Tell you a secret,” she whispered and leaned closer so only I could hear her next words. “I may look stuffy and boring on the outside, but I am wild and racy underneath. And that is just my undies.”

I smiled at her, and she rubbed her legs together suggestively. The car was not the place for further investigation. But I had an idea.

“Are you going to be tied up all day?”

“No, but I would like to be,” she said putting her wrists together.

This caused her arms to compress her lovely tits together, and I was more than interested in where this might go.

“Well, when you have the time for a play date, let me know, and I will bring my toys, and we will see what we can get up to.”

I passed her my calling card, and she tucked it into a pocket in her jacket for later as we arrived at her station.

“I cannot wait to see what you get up to,” she said.

I watched her ass wiggle as she stepped off the train and we pulled out. I was pretty sure that she would get me up without any problems whatsoever. The problems with the Metro is the poor cell reception you get when you are in the tunnels, so I was not surprised to see nothing new on my phone until I reached my station and the street level outside of it. It had the usual collection of homeless bums and delinquents all looking for handouts, and I ignored them as I negotiated the urine stench from overnight and made my way to clean air and my building a short, but invigorating walk from the station. As I waited for the light to change, my phone chirped, and I pulled it out to see what was new.

The message read:

This is me, hoping I can encourage a rise from you as you have never experienced before. And just so you have something to help you on your way…

The accompanying picture was scrumptious. Lace barely covered tits of an impressive nature with puffed areola and prominent nipples. It was a lovely selfie, and I saved it away for later viewing.

I sent back:

That certainly has had a positive influence on what I can achieve. I hope your day is successful and you do not find yourself over-constrained or improperly bound.

I put my phone away and walked into my building to start my day.

About 11 o’clock my phone chirped again, and I flipped it over and read the message. It said:

I prefer silk to wool and air to lace. Would either of those help to get you up? Perhaps this will help sweeten the deal.

The picture was grey silk draped over what was likely her lovely naked body. She was lovely even with the sheet nearly covering every inch of her body. I decided that my day was done and sent back a message of my own.

Air is wonderful and so is lace, silk, and satin as well. There is almost no limit to what we can get up to or how many times with visions like this. Where would you like to meet?

I walked out of the office and started towards the Metro station. As I was about to descend, she replied:

I will meet you on my platform as soon as you can get there.

I hurried my steps and met the train. A few minutes later and I stepped off onto her platform. She was already there. She stepped into my arms, and we kissed with heat and passion, her arms around my neck, her body pressed tightly against me as she tried to gauge what we could get up to initially. It was a good amount, and we were just getting started. The next train arrived, and we stopped long enough to get on before we started again. The car was empty, and for three stations, all we did was kiss each other.

“That was a fantastic start,” she said breathlessly.

Her hand wandered aimlessly over my chest as she looked into my eyes and I looked into hers. She was lovely. We held hands as we rattled under the city and shared small, and not so small kisses until we stepped out onto the platform at L’Enfant.

“My place?” she asked, and I agreed.

We changed trains and rattled uptown a bit more before emerging into bright sunshine and row houses. She took me up a small set of stairs and into a brilliantly lit compact foyer. The door was barely closed before we were in each other’s arms again. She dropped her jacket on the floor, and I ran my hands over her bare arms, feeling her shiver. She moaned into my mouth and pulled me closer, her hips grinding against my engorged cock. I let my hands wander across her back and found the tab for the zipper. Slowly, gently, and all the way down to the bottom of the raceway. I retraced the route, my fingers on her bare skin. She broke the kiss, her mouth open, her eyes glassy. I slid the dress from her shoulders, and it fell to the floor in a puddle. She mashed her lips against mine; her barely covered tits pressed hard against my chest.

Her hands reached and grabbed my shirt and all but yanked it over my head, her nails scratching my bare skin. I cupped her tits and ran my thumbs over her nipples. She moaned. I squeezed. She gasped. I pinched. She kissed me and worked the buttons on my jeans open. Her soft hand wrapped around my cock while I continued to pinch her nipples. She pushed me backward into the stairs, and I sat heavily, my hands bracing me. She dropped to her knees and yanked on my pants. She got them down enough to allow her to engulf my cock with her mouth. She gobbled it down, sucked and teased before her nose hit my stomach. I ran my hands through her hair as she sucked me and I soon showered her mouth with my cum. She sucked it all down before she kissed me again. I moved her, so she was on the stairs and slid between her legs.

“You are wicked,” I said.

I plunged my tongue between her bare lips, raking and pushing the pearls of her thong around as I did. She pulled her knees up and out, and I had full access to all of her. My tongue danced over her clit and poked her ass as she wiggled and moaned under my assault. She got wetter and wetter, a pool building on the wood step beneath her shapely ass as I licked her. The first orgasm was little more than twitching muscles and a sharp breath. The second one was a cry of desire and copious liquid. The third one drenched my face, and he hands held my hair by the roots as she slammed her pussy into my mouth before she pushed me back with her foot and collapsed.

I stood up and stepped out of my pants. She looked up at me, eyes glazed with lust and desire as she watched my cock jump to the beat of my heart. She turned around and showed me her ass, and I stepped forward and sheathed my cock in her pussy. I rammed it home and braced hard against the stair tread as I hammered her. I fingered her ass as she tried to crush my cock in her velvet folds. I pushed harder, and she started shaking uncontrollably. My finger slipped into her ass, and she flooded my cock. There was no friction as I continued to bang her. She orgasm moved her slightly, and the resistance increased enough. My orgasm built up, and soon I was unloading into her as she was bathing my cock in her juices. I continued to pump into her until I was too soft and fell out and slumped to the floor. She slid bonelessly into a resting position and moaned slightly as she reached for me. We pulled each other closer and kissed softly.

“That was worth leaving early for,” she said. “And I love what you get up to.”

I laughed and kissed her again.

Her tub was big enough to hold a swim meet, and the two of us lay back in the warm water and bubbles with a glass of wine. I massaged her feet as I looked at her. Under the water, her toes were playing with my mostly placid cock.

“So what do I call you?” I asked.

She was moaning as I worked across the arch of her foot.

“Anything you want,” she said with a sigh, just don’t stop.

“Hm, an interesting decision. Think of all the possible names I could come up with. All the wordplay I could do.”

I continued to massage her foot, and she continued to tease my cock which was more up than down. I took a sip of my wine and rolled it around in my mouth before I bent forward and sucked on one of her toes.

“Oh, fuck, that tickles,” she said.

I did it again, and she signed. I sucked each one of her toes, and she had sunk down beneath the water until only her head, and the foot in my hand was visible. She panted through her open mouth as I continued to tease her toes. I returned to rubbing her foot, and she crossed the distance between us and kissed me. I held her slippery body against me as we did this. I slipped a finger between her ass cheeks and played with her opening. She almost climbed inside me as she mashed her body against mine. I slowly fingered her ass, and she started to pant and moan. I pinched a nipple, and she cried out and tried to crush my finger.

“Wow, that’s a first,” she panted.

“Stop?”

“Don’t you dare!”

I played with her ass a bit more, and she tried to bite and suck my chest between her orgasms. After her fourth, she pulled my hand away and collapsed against me.

“I am going to need food and water if we keep this up,” she said

I poured a handful of bath water over her head, and she swatted my chest. I kissed her.

“And what do you want to eat?” I asked.

She licked her lips and a hand wrapped around my cock.

“I thought you wanted food?” I mocked.

“I will put mustard on it,” she said.

“No calories in mustard.”

She kissed me again and then stood up, the water and soap ran off her and into the tub.

“Sexy, but also low in calories at the moment.”

She drained her wine, picked up my glass and tossed it off too before she stepped out of the tub. I stood up and stepped out behind her. I caught the towel she threw at me and dried myself off and enjoyed the view as she dried off her leg. I wrapped the towel around my waist and pulled the plug out. The water began its way down the drain, and she dried her short hair.

“In or out?” she asked over her shoulder.

“I thought we were doing both.”

“Just for that, you are taking me to dinner.”

“I only have jeans.”

“It’s a little place around the corner. We can eat on the patio.”

We walked into her bedroom. I sat down in a chair and watched her move to her drawers. She pulled out a bra and what I assumed were panties, but I could not see clearly. I watched as she slowly pulled the panties on and positioned them. Her lips poked out of the missing crotch, the lace barely there. The bra was not much more, but she somehow looked sexier than she did naked. She walked back into the bathroom and through to the closet. I quickly pulled my shirt and pants on and sat back to wait. She came out a few minutes later, her jeans skin tight and her t-shirt was doing nothing to mask her curves. She had on low heels and a smile.

“Shall we go?” she asked.

“I will follow you.”

We walked around the corner and down a couple of more streets. There were several restaurants, and she turned into the third one. The smell of garlic was evident in the air and music was Italian. The many pizzas on the tables outside were the last clue that this might be the sort of restaurant I could eat at. She batted her eyes at the hostess, who did not seem to be immune to her charms and we were quickly seated far enough from the door for privacy but close enough for our food not to get cold from the commute. I held her chair for her before I moved to take my seat. The special was chicken and fish, and the wine list looked a bit skimpy, but I would adjust. Our server was mousy and needed to learn the finer art of speaking up while taking care of people on a busy street. I ordered prosecco, an appetizer and was not surprised when they brought out the wrong glasses, which I sent back for proper flutes. That brought the manager out.

“This is what you serve prosecco in,” he insisted.

“Would you serve champagne in a bowl? I realize they used to, but they were much smaller coupes.”

He looked at me again, pondered what I had said and went back into the restaurant. Another server appeared a few minutes later with the right glasses, an ice bucket and poured the wine after opening it properly.

“You are heartless.”

“I am focused. You would not be surprised by how many people are clueless about what the right glass is for what. I am OK with red wine in a white wine glass, but sparkling wine needs to be in a flute. Here is our appetizer. Let’s forget it and eat.”

And eat we did. The antipasti was delicious, and the pasta and meat courses were to die for. I had gelato for dessert, and we both had a cappuccino to finish off the evening. The sun had long since set, and the lights of the passing cars and the streetlights added a pleasant glow to the evening.

“Got anything left?” she asked with a smirk.

“Left for what?” I asked as I paid the bill.

“Left to fuck me with,” she said in a harsh whisper.

“I have plenty left for that.”

“Good.”

She took my hand, and we walked the short distance back to her place, letting dinner settle and enjoying each other’s company and the warm summer evening. When the door closed, she pulled me into her arms, and we kissed passionately. I squeezed her ass through her jeans. She pulled me tight against her body, and we ground against each other in the foyer until we had to come up for air. Again, she took my hand, and this time, she led me to the bedroom. It took no time for us to strip each other naked and find my cock buried in her cunt, her legs pulled back as I fucked her as she asked. Her hands alternated between her pussy and her nipples as she drove herself to orgasm against my cock, once, twice, three times. As her third orgasm closed her pussy over my cock, my balls contracted and my cock swelled as I poured myself into her one more time. She cried out and scratched my back before she collapsed. I rolled over onto one side and ran my fingers along her body.

“No more,” she panted as I played with her clit.

I kissed her nipple, then kissed her as she lay panting against me.

“Let’s sleep and tomorrow, you can tie me to the banister and have your way with me.”

I liked that idea and pulled her close against me. We snuggled under the sheet and were both quickly asleep.

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