On the Train

"Tickets please." I hear him coming down the train car. What can I say, I like a man in a uniform. And a cap. And a little red tie that I can use to pull him into the dark corners of the train as I head home late at night.

We've never exchanged names or numbers, we know nothing about one another. But I like the way his hair curls out from under his cap, and the way he winks at me when none of the passengers are looking, and the way he presses up against me by the train door to 'keep me from falling out.' And he says he likes the way I sit in a train seat, 'like I own the place;' and how my suit skirts ride up in the seat, showing off my strong thighs; and the way I taste, 'like a good bourbon, where just the taste lets you know how intoxicating it's going to be.'

"Tickets please, ma'am." He says with a wink. He punches my pass, as if he doesn't even know me, and moves down along the aisle where I can watch his tall strong back and adorable ass move from seat to seat. I take in the view, thinking about how I'll be running my hands all over that back in just a few minutes. He moves to the next car, and I watch the seconds tick by on my watch until 3 minutes have passed. I gather up my grey jacket and black leather tote and walk down the aisle as if I'm changing cars. I pull open the door and let it close behind me as I step into the area between the cars.

He's there, waiting for me, leaned up like a model against the metal wall as it shifts and sways with the rhythm of the train.

"You were later than usual. I thought you weren't going to make the train."

"What, would you miss me or something?" One corner of my mouth twitches just slightly as I ask, unable to fully hide the smile.

He doesn't answer, but one swift fluid movement and I'm up against the wall. I can feel his stubble against my jaw line as he kisses along my neck, one hand exploring behind my ear and the other just at the hemline of my skirt. The rock and sway of the train presses our bodies up against one another and pulls us apart again, jostling our kisses and grinding our bodies together. We make out like teenagers, hard and longingly. I smell his musky cologne and taste the sharpness of mint gum. His tongue is soft as it flicks in between my lips and runs itself over my teeth. His stubble is rough on my cheek, and his hands are rough on my thighs, caressing upwards underneath my skirt and running along the top of my thigh high nylons.

The train begins to slow and he kisses me once more, deeply, before pushing back from me. I'm still caught between his arms and he looks me up and down, hungrily.

"Stay here. I'll be right back." He walks off to do his job and I sink against the wall, trying to catch my breath. My skin immediately misses the touch of his hands and I fantasize about where else those hands could go, places they've never gone before. He's gone for just long enough that I have time to slip off my soaking wet panties and stash them in my bag.

Again his hands are playing at the hem of my skirt but I catch his right hand and move it to the inside of my left leg. He looks at me, surprised, but he begins to move his hand up, massaging my inner thigh. Finally he gets to the top of my leg, and he looks at me in surprise as he realizes there's nothing in between his hand and my cunt. But he doesn't waste any time slipping his thumb past my lips, catching my juices and swirling them teasingly around the outside of my clit.

"How many minutes between these stops?" I ask, breathlessly, as his rhythm begins to shift and sway with the motion of the train.

"Twelve." His voice is deeper, even gruffer than usual.

"Then you better stop teasing me." He does, immediately. He slides two fingers deep inside me and then immediately pulls them out to press them against my clit. He alternates between finger fucking me and rubbing my clit, hard, with two fingers covered in my dripping juices. I'm getting lost in the feeling but I try not to let too long go by, I have better plans. After a few minutes I start to pull at his belt buckle.

"I could get fired," he protests.

"You could. But you could also get fucked at work by a beautiful stranger in thigh high nylons." He moans just the slightest amount and doesn't put up any more of a fight as I undo his pants and reach in to pull out his cock. It's already rock hard, he doesn't need any help with that, and he pushes right into me as I slide my pencil skirt up to my hips. We both catch our breath in our throats as we try not to yell out. The movement of the train pushes him in and out of me, even as he tries to stay still for a moment. The regular sway of it is already driving me crazy, and my hand drifts down to seek out my own clit.

He pushes up against me, matching his rhythm with that of the train, shoving me up against the metallic wall of the train car. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me up so that my feet aren't even touching the ground, pounding into me. We lose the rhythm of the train, him with his desperate pounding and me with the wild rubbing against my clit. As I fall into an orgasm I start to yell out, and he immediately covers my mouth with his, moaning into me as he too loses control. He holds me there for a moment longer as we both breathe our way to stillness. Then he slides me down to the floor, letting go of my waist and stepping back. I watch him as I slide my skirt back down my legs and he smiles as he tucks in his shirt and re-buttons his pants. The train begins to slow again, this time for my stop. He straightens his tie and cap and steps back from me.

"Thanks for the ride, conductor." I say as I step past him, first in line to get off the train.