tagExhibitionist & VoyeurGirl Watching On The Subway

Girl Watching On The Subway

byEroticaSeanStyle©

With July in full swing, the temperatures here in the Boston area have begun to soar. Days with temps in the 90s are one of those things you have to get used to if you live in Massachusetts in the summer: it's right up there along with cowboy drivers on Storrow Drive or a Red Sox-Yankees pennant race, or -- if you want to go that far -- the State Police patrolling Route 495 on a holiday weekend.

There are other things you get used to when you're living in Massachusetts in the month of July: for instance, all of the lovely women of the Greater Boston area wear less and less clothing as the temperature skyrockets. You can find them along the beaches of Cape Cod, walking Newbury Street while shopping, or even jogging along the banks of the Charles River.

I have my own personal favorite female viewing area: the subway. It sounds kind of corny, not to mention stalkerish, but think of it this way: where else are you going to find beautiful women stationary for at least two minutes anywhere in the city of Boston during the summer?? I mean, they are constantly in motion -- the women, I mean. The subway, I think, is a great place to meet women, or at least look at them before they go on about their travels.

For the past week I have been riding the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority's Red Line daily to visit my father, who is in the hospital after falling gravely ill on the Fourth of July. For the 20 minute ride from Alewife to Charles/MGH, I have my choices of things to occupy my mind: read a book, the newspaper, or stare at my sneakers -- no one talks on the T unless they are with someone. I choose none of the above and decide to look at women. I know my father would want me to continue scoping out the babes, because Lord knows if he were along for the ride, he would also be looking at the ladies too. Sly dog, my father. But I digress.

One day as I prepared for my silent journey through the bowels of Cambridge, I had pulled into Alewife and had parked a few spaces away from a trio of people leaving their SUV. One was a guy, the other two were female. One was tall and could possibly be model material: very statuesque, with long dirty blonde hair, a tanned face and an unbelievable smile. She had the look of a model but didn't flaunt it. She wore blue jeans to cover her long legs and a black shirt complete with lacey frills around her neck. I didn't have the chance to get a good look at her body, because my attention was drawn toward her female companion.

She couldn't have been more than 18. But from what I saw, she walked with the grace and maturity of a woman in her mid 20s. I caught myself staring, but who cares? I rushed to get my mother's things for the day and followed the trio down to the trains, as they had started walking as soon as I had gotten out of the car.

Because either they walked too slow or I walked with a brisk gait, I caught up to them at the booth where you buy your tokens. In no time I was walking behind them, and that is when I got a good look at her. Long black hair extended to just below her shoulders, and she had streaks of blonde intermittently placed throughout her mane. A pretty face that could have been crafted out of the finest porcelain. Cute feet, ones only a person with a foot fetish could love, toe nails painted pale pink, clad in one-and-a-half inch heels. As I glanced up and down her body, I saw her perfect frame with curves in all the right places. I caught the outline of her bikini panties through the free-flowing blue skirt she was wearing -- which matched her shoes in hue -- as she walked down the stairs. They entered a subway car, and I followed right behind.

Not to look too obtrusive, I selected a seat diagonally from them. The guy was sandwiched by the two beauties, but not for long. Sitting across from me were a pair of guys who looked like they were from the rough part of town. Turns out that blue skirt knew him, and as we were pulling out of Alewife station, she noticed him and went over to hug him. She sat down to his right, immediately across from me, and struck up a conversation.

It was here that I got an even better look at her: along with the blue skirt, she wore a tight spaghetti-stringed tank top, which clung to her upper body like a second skin. Her breasts, which I estimated at a high C-low D cup, were straining against the material. If she hadn't been wearing a bra with it, I'm sure her nipples would have been poking through, as the subway car was perfectly air conditioned.

Not that I would have been complaining about that. I quickly imagined her with her top off, with my lips securely wrapped around the tasty nuggets of her breasts. I could visualize my tongue circling them while my hands got to know every curve of her. Usually I'm an ass man, but her breasts were just too inviting to ignore.

Snapped out of it by the subway rocking, I looked at her again. She was running her fingers through her hair as she was talking to him. She did this several times throughout their dialogue.

She sat cross-legged, and it was then that I realized that I wanted her legs uncrossed. I had earlier detected the bikini panties she was wearing and I knew I wanted to see a little more of them. But unfortunately, her legs stayed closed.

I began to think of what it would be like between her tanned thighs, licking at her pussy. I would have enjoyed seperating her, licking feverishly. Nibbling at the inner pelvis while she was writhing under my skilled tongue. Sliding fingers slowly in and out of her, only speeding up at her command. My tongue slipping around her clit before dropping my mouth securely around it. It would have been incredibly sexy and erotic, had it been reality. I left the subway without a word to her as the Charles/MGH stop, the Longfellow Bridge and the Boston skyline came into view.

Later that night, I returned to the subway laden with my sisters' belongings: she had arrived at Logan Airport the night before and was staying one more night in Boston before coming home. Even with the sun down, the heat and humidity were unbearable: I was dripping sweat, dragging her luggage and my nephew's car seat under my arm -- the things I do for some people. About 30 seconds after I sat down on a bench, a young woman of about 21 had arrived on the outbound platform, the same platform I was on. She was relatively attractive and had a very sexy body, yet I thought she appeared shy. She was wearing a blue dress which had thin spaghetti straps and was squared across the top about two inches below her neck, stretching down the length of the woman's form to just above her knee. Her ample breasts protruded from the material, her blonde hair was tied back in a neat pony tail. She had soft, blue eyes which were wide open, taking in her surroundings. She had pouty lips, ones that would look good sliding over the subway train in my pants.

As we boarded the newly-arrived train in front of us, I allowed her to enter first. She sat a few seats away from me, yet I stood because of the extra luggage. I stole quick glances of her as the train rolled outbound from Boston, yet the thoughts of having sex with this girl weren't the foremost things on my mind. I'm sure with sweat pouring off me before sex wouldn't have been as much of a turn on for her.

A few stops into our ride, the subway made a stop at Central Square in Cambridge. With the rush of passengers getting off, I was able to secure a seat across from the blonde. She sent a soft smile my way as I sat down, catching my breath. Damn my sister for packing for what felt like 10 people.

At the same stop, another young woman of what appeared to be her early 20s walked on: a strawberry blonde who took a seat two spaces to my right hand side. Not a red head, but hair that flowed with the color of the sweet fruit. She wore business-like attire: a white vest that left her arms bare so her freckles were visible, a beige skirt and shoes, and off-white stockings. She wore a diamond anklet around her right ankle and at times, had her feet crossed from heel to toe, right foot over left. Needless to say, she was very attractive.

I took a few peeks at her as we rolled toward Alewife. I was also keeping tabs on the blonde across from me at the same time, yet I was surprised to see the blonde checking out the girl two seats to my right! This was sweet! I thought about the situation as the train lumbered into Harvard Square: was the blonde bisexual, and was she thinking about having intimate actions with the young woman? To be a voyeur in that situation: the blonde with her face buried between the milky white thighs of the strawberry blonde, licking away at the puffy folds of her pussy. Seeing the woman with the long red hair arch her back as the blonde found a sweet spot. Looking with anticipation as the girl on my right returned the favor to the girl sitting across from me.

I dwelled on those thoughts for the next minutes and before I knew it, we had reached Davis Square, the blonde's stop. She stood up, flattened her skirt and walked off the train. I watched her as she made her way to the escalators, letting my eyes drop to her ass, which was swaying in perfect harmony with the way she was walking. I saw the outline of her bikini panties against the back of her dress. She tossed me a glance as she was walking away and I knew I had been caught. But those things happen, I wasn't worried. I wasn't going to see her again.

We arrived at Alewife a few minutes later, and I was quick to leave the train. The girl with the strawberry blonde hair left shortly afterward, and I walked slow to allow her to get in front of me. She was talking on her cell phone as she passed, and my eyes again did their dance across her body. She had a nice ass, yet I couldn't see a panty outline. She didn't have big hips, but curvy ones that would be great to hold onto while fucking her doggy style. I could picture my hands moving up her body until I was grabbing a hold of her long hair, pounding into her. I continued to walk while thinking and had to stop thinking about her when I reached the stairs. Picking my sisters' luggage up and walking it up the stairs, I caught sight of the red head as she was just getting onto the escalator to take her to her car.

If only my dad was right next to me, we would have looked at her before looking at each other and laughing. I knew there were no more women to look at tonight, as the subway was about to shut down for the evening.

But I knew I would see my father the next day, which meant more women to be viewed on the Red Line.

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