Selecting My Mark

Selecting my mark was easy. The tall one with broad shoulders, dark hair and smouldering eyes at the far end of the platform. He was wearing faded jeans, a white shirt, well worn boots and a casual jacket with a trench coat over the top. Smart but casual, maybe an engineer or an architect.

Today I was dressed all in black, turtleneck jumper, and pencil skirt with side splits, high heeled boots and long jacket. Sexy, classic, confident. I strode purposely towards him, continuing on past to the news stand where I bent down and selected a magazine. Making sure to catch his eye as I walked past, I gave him a slight smile. I am close enough so that he can smell my perfume wafting by. He smiles and I can feel his eyes following me. I walk back past him to the edge of the platform, my eyes on the magazine cover, pretending to ignore him. Glancing up I see him staring at me, I hold his gaze. He's mine.

The train approaches and I put away my magazine. I watch as he enters the carriage and moves to the back, standing in the aisle. I follow, working my way back until I am just in front of him. The train is packed, standing room only and I am pushed back even more as the carriage swells. He is now directly behind me, one arm up, holding the strap to steady himself as the train moves off. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. The carriage becomes more and more crowded at each stop as commuters leave the city and I am pushed closer and closer to him. I am now touching him, just barely. He smells of cologne and the faint aroma of dirt, manly.

As the train jerks away from yet another platform I fall back, deliberately. Clutching his leg for support my fingers brush his crotch. I turn and smile, offering my apologies, my hand lingering. My briefcase falls over and I bend to right it, my bottom rubbing up against his jeans. I stand up, smiling to myself and wonder if he has caught on yet. The train rocks and again I steady myself, my right hand finding his crotch once more. This time I feel his burgeoning erection through the denim and I know he has caught on. I leave my hand in place, holding onto the bulge in his jeans. He doesn't protest. Instead he moves his hand to my hip, slowly sliding upwards under my jacket. Tentatively exploring, waiting for the rebuke which will never come.

His strong fingers explore, creeping up over my turtleneck to gently cup my C cup breast and flicking over my rock hard nipple. His touch is cautious, maybe in case he has misread my intentions and definitely trying not to draw anyone's attention. His jacket offers some coverage of the drama unfolding within. I push up against him, harder, rubbing against his body with mine. My breath quickens and my pussy dampens. I can feel my juices start to run. My fingers massage his inner thigh, up and over his cock. Making him squirm and push himself into me. I can feel his hardness pressing against my back. Sense his desire. Smell his lust.

I get off at the next stop.

The next day I arrive at the platform just in time. I know he will be there waiting. He smiles and looks reassured. I take up my position in front of him and immediately place my hand where I left off. He is rock hard and I smile slyly, liking the power I have over him already. I play with him for the next few kilometres, teasing his cock relentlessly as the number of people on the carriage gradually begins to thin out. I can feel his frustration and eagerness as his fingers eventually begin to edge their way under the hem of my short skirt, slowly inching higher, searching. Stopping suddenly when he realises I'm not wearing any underwear before moving on over the smooth skin on my bottom and trying to make their way between my legs. I oblige and move them apart, just slightly, allowing him access to my slippery, moist pussy lips. His touch is getting bolder as the train moves ever forward and less and less people remain in the carriage.

My fingers slide over his hardness, massaging his penis through the denim of his jeans. I brazenly begin to undo his zipper, sliding it down slowly. He pulls back slightly, unsure of where this is heading and worried about being caught but not wanting to stop. I persist, pulling him closer and reaching in to touch his throbbing skin. He groans ever so slightly in my ear and swells even more at my touch. I begin to explore, feeling his girth and the veins running along his length under my touch. His size is impressive and I want to feel him inside of me.

I gasp and my knees almost buckle as his fingers find their mark and he pushes one, then two fingers deep inside of me. I am soaked. He slides them in and out of my wet cunt and I worry that someone will hear the squishy noises emanating from deep within my loins. The fear of getting caught is pushed to the back of my mind as his fingers probe my folds looking for my clitoris. A slight movement to my left catches my attention and I look into the eyes of a man seated opposite. His eyes are transfixed and I know he realises what is going on. I smile and run my tongue over my teeth. I can see the bulge in his pants as I continue my hand action beneath the jacket. He swallows and continues to watch discreetly.

His fingers continue their assault on my swollen clit moving away to enter my hole and spread my juices up to my tight little bottom hole. I feel like I'm about to come. I pull forward and his hand slips out, removing my hand from his penis, I tuck it back into his jeans and leave him to do up the zipper before getting off the train. He looks at me with an agonised look and I mouth the word tomorrow as I pass the window.

I am deliberately late today. He is standing at the end of the platform in his usual spot. His face shows disappointment. I approach him from behind and quietly ask him if he is waiting for someone. He turns and smiles and I swear I can see his cock harden instantly under his jeans. The later train has fewer passengers and he wastes no time at all slipping his hand under my skirt to my already wet pussy lips. I pull his rock hard cock free from his jeans and place it between my legs. I really want to feel him inside of me. Fucking me for all he's worth. I tease him. Sliding my wetness over his shaft ever so slightly, almost allowing him to slip straight in. He pulls my hips back and forth slowly, almost pushing his cock into me as it passes between my legs. We continue like this until the carriage only has one other occupant. My gentleman observer sits quietly watching. The bulge in his pants is obvious for all to see. I smile and mouth "do you mind". Knowing just what the answer will be. He nods his head and rubs his cock in anticipation. The man behind me is oblivious to the fact that he is being watched so closely.

There is a tunnel approaching and I take the opportunity to move my bottom up slightly higher as he pushes his cock forward. He slides roughly into me and a surprised groan escapes his lips. I moan and push back against him harder as we enter the tunnel. Even though the lights are on the carriage becomes darker. I slide my cunt up and down his pole with more urgency. Willing him to fuck me harder. He takes the hint and rams himself into me again and again. Not caring who or what is watching at this point. He fucks me harder and harder until I explode and my wetness engulfs him. Spasms rock my body as he pushes hard and fast as far into me as he can. He comes deep inside me with a low groan and a final thrust. I can see the wet spot forming on my observer's crotch.

He waited at the station every day for a month. Not sure if it was a dream or surreal reality. I never go back.