The Woman in White

I don't know if she was simply crazy or whether she was involved in some odd piece of performance art, but there, amid the bustle of people rushing from train to train at Metro Central, I saw her. She was dressed entirely in white, down to the white paint or shoe polish on her face. Even the harmonica she played was white.

I had read about her, a short snippet in the newspaper had described her. A short, middle aged woman living on the street who came down into the Metro and rode the trains. She'd play her harmonica for anyone who'd listen. Admittedly, she wasn't very good, but then she wasn't playing at Kennedy Center either. Most times she passed unnoticed, a faint apparition in the corner of your eye that you'd pass and then wonder just exactly what you saw.

Coming back from a shopping trip to a bookstore out in Bethesda, I was riding the Red Line back into the city, planning to switch over to the Yellow Line at Gallery Place -- Chinatown on my way back to Crystal City. While riding, I heard the faint strains of the harmonica that continued as we passed through the stations at Friendship Heights, Tenleytown and Van Ness. Intrigued, I moved a bit closer to the sound as I noticed some people shying away, as if a bit alarmed.

When I saw her, I could see why some of the people may have shied away from her, she wore a white skirt, with a white blouse, white socks and tennis shoes. Just as I had read, her face was decorated in white. Now the clothes were a bit grimy and her face was not the smooth white like a geisha but more just a few rough slashes of something white across her ruddy complexion.

Moving to a seat not far from her, I watched as she continued playing harmonica, not any specific songs mind you, more just random notes that never really gelled into a harmony, yet it was oddly nice. When the train stopped at Cleveland Park and then Woodley several people walked past her to leave handing her some money. She smiled shyly and nodded saying, "I wish I played better."

I quickly moved over to the seat next to her, nodding a silent, "Hello," and sat down. Ignoring the odd looks I got from the other people in the car, the ones who pulled back from this intriguing woman, I watched as she began playing the harmonica again. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed into the instrument and from where I sat I could see down her blouse a bit. Feeling a tingling in my cock I, a continued watching her, feeling a strange attraction to this woman.

She didn't stink like I thought she might, there was a distinct, strong odor about her, but it didn't seem bad to me. It reminded me of in the forest when it rained and you find yourself surrounded by that damp, leafy smell. Pungent but earthy, that was it, she had a strong earthy smell about her that, although many found it repulsive, I really didn't mind.

As the train slowed to stop at Dupont Circle, I noticed she quit playing, tucked the harmonica in a blouse pocket and scooted herself to the front of her seat. Looking over at her I said, "Getting off here?"

She nodded, smiled and then stood up, shuffling through the doors with a number of people. Once they left a number of people began moving onto the train when I jumped up, elbowed my way through the people and stepped off the train. Looking around, I spotted the woman walking away from the exits. I moved quickly and caught up to her.

Startled, she turned around quickly looking frightened, but when she saw who I was she seemed to relax a bit. "I was wondering if you were going to get off the train," she said.

"Well, it's not my stop, but... but..."

"You just couldn't help yourself," she said smiling. "You got a thing for white, or is it for the homeless."

"What are you talking about?" I asked her.

"Look, I noticed you looking down my blouse and hell, we women see that bulge you guys think you cover up so well."

Looking down at the front of my pants I said, "I don't..."

"Not here, on the train. Look, I'm not a whore, but I could use some cash. I'll give you a blow job for twenty bucks."

"But that's not why..."

Shaking her head from side to side, "Look, it's simple, something about me, or my clothes or that you think I'm homeless has turned you on. Hey I don't mind, we all have kinks, so I need some cash and you look like you could use the blow job, so we both come out ahead."

Feeling my cock harden I reached for my wallet, giving in to whatever strange obsession that was driving me. I handed her a twenty and she took my hand, leading me to a small area behind an escalator. There was a door there that had, at one time, been forced open. We ducked into a small equipment room where she kneeled down and then looked up at me expectantly.

"Oh yes," I said, unfastening my pants and pulling out my hard cock. Leaning back against the wall, I watched as she moved her mouth over it and began sucking hard. One of her hands came up and grasped the shaft and she stroked it. Looking down, it was oddly exciting to see her white painted face sliding up and down over my glistening cock

Occasionally she'd move her head back, take me out of her mouth and then run her tongue around the head of my cock. Then she'd run it up and down my shaft, sliding out onto my balls. Taking just the head in her mouth, she ran her tongue underneath it, teasing that sensitive spot just below the tip before plunging down the shaft again, sucking hard.

By then I was pumping my hips back and forth, trying to push even deeper into her. The sensation of her sucking so hard was incredible as waves of pleasure ran up and down my cock. Arching my back, I came, spurting my hot, white cum into her mouth. She swallowed quickly, but a bit dribbled out of her mouth and dripped onto her blouse. After she sucked the last droplets of cum from me, the wiped the cum from the blouse, "Well, at least you won't see the white stain."

Feeling a bit disgusted with myself for using her so, I said, "Thank you," and zipped up my pants. I then opened the door and stepped outside, heading back towards the trains. Looking back I saw her watching me.

"Thank you," she said, holding up the twenty and then provocatively tucking it into her blouse. She then closed the door and I turned and continued walking.