A Birthday to Remember

Zoey Pearson wondered if she might have made a mistake traveling home late in the evening when she felt someone's hand caress the cheeks of her buttocks, barely covered by the little pleated skirt she was wearing, as she was standing in the middle of a crowd of people on the London Underground. There was nothing furtive about the gesture, and Zoey knew the man who did it (she assumed it was a man but it could easily have been a woman) was about to slide his hand between her legs if she hadn't whirled round in surprise and shock, unable to spot who the mystery groper was before the train suddenly stopped and people pushed past her, moving quickly, their expressions set.

Two stops later Zoey got off and made her way up the elevator to the main line station. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw her train was waiting and found a seat in a well-lit compartment. She rummaged through her leather mini-backpack for the packet of tissues and small bottle of water she always carried, poured water onto the tissue and used it to cool her neck and the slopes of her breasts exposed by the low-necked cotton top she was wearing. She had debated whether to wear skimpy clothes before she set out but decided summer in the city would mean heat and dirt so the less she wore the better.

Zoey checked her phone and then scanned the compartment to see if anyone had left a newspaper lying around. They had and she picked it up, settled into her seat again and thought how wonderful it had been to celebrate her 21st birthday with her friends from school and how their lives had changed from the hopes and dreams they'd had when they were together.

It had been a great girl's night out, full of laughter, shrieked reminiscences, enjoyable food and a great many cocktails. All the girls screamed 'Lezzas, lezzas!' when Zoey and her BFF Michelle kissed goodbye standing in the street waiting for Michelle's taxi, their arms round each other, their tongues intertwined. Afterward Zoey walked to the nearest Tube station, looking forward to getting home, taking a quick shower and then sleeping in until late the next morning.

Still buzzed from the alcohol, Zoey started reading the paper's celebrity gossip page and it was only when the driver announced the train's doors were closing that she looked up and saw two men had sat down in the seat across from her. She wouldn't have cared but the rest of the carriage was empty and yet they'd chosen to sit opposite and Zoey drew in her legs and pulled her short skirt down. Suddenly she wished she had worn a bra, especially as kissing Michelle had brought back a great many memories of the two of them making love together and Zoey was still extremely aroused, her nipples hard against the material of her top.

Zoey chanced a quick glance at the two men. They were smartly dressed in suits, their ties undone. Listening to them talk in low voices about the state of the money markets, seeing their expensive briefcases and coats, Zoey guessed they worked in the city which she found reassuring because they would have well-paid jobs they wouldn't want to jeopardize by harassing her. The men had probably been to a bar before catching the last train home and Zoey would have relaxed except the man with blond hair, on the left, was staring at her breasts and the other one was staring at the smooth expanse of her thigh exposed by her short, pleated skirt. Determined not to feel intimidated, Zoey buried her head in the paper she was holding, her heart beating in her chest.

"Excuse me, is that seat taken?" the man on the right suddenly asked, indicating the place next to Zoey. "I hate traveling backwards."

Zoey was about to lie and say it was, her boyfriend was joining her, when the guy immediately moved and sat down. The guy on the left took his friend's vacant seat and Zoey realized the two men could check in both directions to see if anyone was coming.

Zoey knew she was acting irrationally but she felt light-headed with fear. She tried to rationalize the men's actions as innocent but she instinctively knew, from the way they stopped talking about gold movements and the dollar-pound exchange rate, that she was now the center of attention.

"Hot, isn't it?" the man opposite said as he pulled his tie off.

"Mmm, yes," Zoey said in a disinterested voice. She looked back down at the newspaper, trying to act nonchalantly.

"You look nice and cool," the man to her right said.

Zoey didn't respond.

"A lovely short skirt, thin top, no bra. Cool and sexy."

Zoey went on the attack.

"Sorry?" she said, her voice angry.

"N-i-c-e skirt," the man said slowly, as if she were retarded. Then, making Zoey jump, he reached over into her lap and flicked the hem up an inch or so, revealing more of her thighs.

"Get your fucking hands off me," Zoey snarled.

"God, Piers," the man opposite said. "You can take the woman out of the gutter, but you can't take the gutter out of the woman..."

"Too right, Toby," the man next to her said and Zoey felt sick. If these men didn't care if they used their names, real or fake, then sexual harassment was the least of her worries.

"Think she's a working girl, Toby?" the man named Piers said.

"I don't know," the man next to her said. "Let's ask her. Excuse me, miss, are you a prostitute? If my friend were to flash his wallet would you be willing to get down on your knees and give him the finest blowjob money can buy?"

Zoey stood up. "You're drunk," she said, grabbing her bag and trying to move to another seat in the carriage.

The man named Toby grabbed her wrist, gripping it hard.

"No, I'm not," he said in a low, menacing voice. "I'm horny, just like my friend Piers, and we fancy a fuck. With you. Are you up for it? Both at the same time, preferably, one in your cunt and one in your ass. We'd make you scream with pleasure without a doubt..."

Zoey stared at the man who nodded his head at his friend. She glanced across and saw Piers had unzipped his flies to expose his big, fully erect cock. The head was throbbing, a drop of precum oozing from the tip showing he was highly aroused. He reached up and took hold of Zoey's free wrist and pulled her down, forcing her to close her fingers round the shaft.

"That feels nice," the man said, and Zoey realized that, of the two, Piers had drunk more or he would never have let his guard down. All she had to do was punch downward and he would be writhing in agony on the carriage floor. But was it worth it? What might Toby do?

Held captive between the two men, Zoey was powerless to resist when Toby ran his hand up under her skirt and stroked his fingers between the lips of her bare pussy. She cursed herself for being aroused after kissing Michelle because Toby let out a soft whistle of delight when his index finger slid effortlessly between her pussylips and found they were slippery with her cream.

In other circumstances, Zoey might have enjoyed being finger-fucked but now tears sprang to her eyes. She felt violated and hated that her happy night out with her friends had gone so badly wrong.

Toby was concentrating on stroking her clit, Piers on Zoey's fingers stroking his cock. Zoey was close to hyper-ventilating, frightened about what might happen in the empty compartment when a man's voice from behind her made her scream with shock and surprise.

"Is this a private party, gentlemen. or are you committing sexual assault?"

Zoey whirled round and found a tall, muscular black man standing there, a warrant card in his hand. His photo and the words 'Metropolitan Police' were clearly displayed. Instantly, the men released Zoey's wrists, Toby's hand shot from between her legs and Piers stood up, fumbling with his flies to hide his erect prick.

"We were just being friendly, officer," Toby said, his voice showing his panic he could be arrested.

"Detective Sergeant," the policeman said. He turned to Zoey. "Is that right, miss?"

"No, but I don't want to make anything of it," she said. "I just want to get home."

"Gentlemen," the policemen said in a quiet, firm voice and then paused, his eyes meeting theirs. "You will make your way into the next carriage and sit there quietly. When the train stops, get off. I don't care if it's your stop or not because if you're still on the train when it moves off, I will arrest you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, officer," said Piers, grabbing his briefcase and raincoat. Toby did the same.

"Detective sergeant," the policeman said in a weary voice, as if reminding children.

The two men scurried from the compartment and the policeman sat down, waving to the seat opposite. Zoey sat down too.

"Do you want to make a complaint, miss?" he asked her.

"No. I'm just relieved you appeared when you did. I think they had a lot more in mind than they managed to do."

"Yes, I'm sure," the policeman said and Zoey realized he was looking at her breasts.

"Thank you for rescuing me," she said.

"Just doing my job to protect young women traveling on trains alone," the man said. "It isn't safe."

The train slowed and then pulled into a station. Zoey saw Piers and Toby get off looking miserable. The stop was obviously not theirs. As soon as the train doors closed they made gestures in the black policeman's direction and yelled obscenities but he ignored them.

"It will be some time before the next stop," the man said. He leaned toward Zoey and crooked his finger, beckoning her to lean closer.

She did so and he said, "I was wondering how you were going to thank me?" and, to her astonishment, he reached up and pulled the neckline of her top down, exposing her bare breasts.

"What the -?" she started to say and then saw the look on the black guy's face. It was cold, menacing, far more frightening than Piers or Toby were ever likely to be. And then Zoey understood. The policeman had not rescued her; he had simply removed the competition.

*

Moments later, kneeling between the black policemen's legs, her mouth stuffed full of his enormous cock, Zoey found herself wondering about her confused reaction to what was happening.

On the one hand, the policeman's manner was threatening and Zoey suspected if she struggled, or objected in any way, he would hurt her. Without hesitation and possibly badly. But what confused her was she didn't want to struggle or object. The prick in her mouth tasted clean and salty from the abundant precum flowing from the tip, his thick pubic hair smelled of expensive cologne and his balls were big and smooth as lemons, the skin taut to her touch as she reached her fingers into his trousers and gently caressed the twin spheres, heightening his pleasure.

Time and again Zoey bobbed her head up and down on the man's cock, taking the head into the back of her throat and then releasing the shaft, slick with saliva and sperm, until her lips ovaled round the crown and she squeezed gently, cutting off his orgasm until she was ready to start sucking hard again. She could tell from the labored breathing coming from above her the man was enjoying every second of what she was doing, and to tell the truth, so was she, the lips of her cunt slippery wet, her cream dripping from the opening and down the inside of her thighs.

Zoey had no idea if the guy wanted to climax in her mouth or take himself to the point of greatest arousal and then fuck her and she risked looking up to see the expression on his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open slightly, and she guessed he wanted her to continue so she did so and slowed her movements, savoring the warmth and thickness of the prick in her mouth, the sweet flavor of the man's cum which she had to keep swallowing every time the swollen tip entered the back of her throat, and his masculine scent which filled her senses every time she buried her nose in the silky black curls of his pubic hair.

The policeman responded by resting his hands on her head, holding her down a fraction longer when she did something he liked, letting her lift up when she needed to breathe. But then the pressure of his hands on the back of her head became more insistent. Zoey sucked harder with long, drawing pulls that gave the man such pleasure he was moaning softly deep in his chest. She could feel the skin of his balls tightening in her fingers and knew he was close to release.

The thought turned her on so much Zoey longed to reach down between her legs and stroke herself to orgasm at the same time as the man emptied his balls into her mouth but she dared not alter the rhythm of her sucking. Her breasts were heaving, her nipples taut, she longed to be fucked but she kept sucking prick, her own needs put aside until the man decided what he wanted her to do next for she had no doubt the best way to co-operate lay in pleasing him and doing whatever he demanded.

And then his hands held her head still, her lips stretched wide round the prick filling her mouth. The policeman's cock swelled and his hips jerked, a gush of semen filling Zoey's mouth which she swallowed, knowing the first spurt would be followed by a lot more. The sweet-salty liquid slid down the back of her throat, a creamy mass that felt deliciously sensual as it slid down into her belly. She loved the feeling: it was the reason she loved sucking cock, that and the power it gave her to make a man climax using her dexterous tongue and soft lips.

The prick in her mouth pumped out more and more jism, so much Zoey found it difficult to swallow fast enough and she let some of the creamy rivulets of saliva and semen escape the oval of her lips to drip down the long, thick shaft. The black policeman grunted softly, obviously enjoying the slippery friction of her lips on his spasming cock and Zoey felt relief wash through her that she had obviously pleased him by her skilled sucking.

Eventually the flow of cum eased and the man allowed Zoey to release his still-hard cock from between her lips and straighten up, her bare breasts on open display. Absurdly, she found herself wanting his praise for the skill she had shown in emptying the man's balls but Zoey suspected her ordeal was far from over.

"That was nice," the black policeman said.

"Thank you," Zoey said as she wiped her mouth with her fingers and then licked them clean.

The man sat with his long penis lying against the material of his trousers, unconcerned someone might walk past.

"Do you do that to your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Yes."

Zoey hadn't currently got a boyfriend but kept that to herself because she had no intention of telling the policeman who fucked her in every hole every day.

"Often?"

"Yes."

"Does he prefer that to fucking you?"

"No, I don't think so," Zoey said.

She wondered for a moment where the line of questioning was going and if she should be quite so truthful: if the guy was jealous he could well become dangerous out of envy. But then she also realized this was no ordinary man: he was a policeman, skilled at questioning, astute to the signs someone was lying.

"Then what does he prefer?"

The question was asked lightly but Zoey saw the flash of sexual hunger in the man's eyes.

"He likes to fuck my ass," Zoey said, blushing despite her usual lack of bashfulness when she talked about sex.

The black man reacted by reaching for his penis. He curled his fingers round the ebony shaft, stroking the foreskin back and forth over the big, purple glans. Then he asked, "Is he big?"

"I guess so?" Zoey said.

"Bigger than me, then?" the policeman said and Zoey cursed herself for giving the man reason to be resentful.

"A little, perhaps," she said, keeping her voice soft. "But yours is thicker."

"Some girls don't like having their assholes fucked," the guy said with a smile and Zoey saw her chance to make up lost ground.

"I do," she said, her eyes meeting his. "A lot."

Zoey opened her legs, knowing the lips of her cunt were clearly visible, glistening with her cream. She wondered whether to reach down and stroke her clit but decided to wait, aware the man took satisfaction from being totally in control. He would only give her permission to pleasure herself when he was ready.

"He doesn't hurt you?"

"Only at first, when it goes in. But it's a nice hurt."

"How often does he do it?"

"Every day. More at the weekend."

"Lucky man."

Zoey leaned across and took the black policeman's balls in her fingers, caressing them gently.

"Maybe. But he's not here now," she said. "And you are..."

The man smiled but his eyes were still cold.

Suddenly the policeman let go his prick, reached for her wrist and pulled her toward him, bending her forward at the waist as he spun her round. Caught off balance, Zoey let out a cry of surprise when the man grabbed the hem of her skirt, flipped it up to reveal her buttocks and pulled her bodily down onto his rearing cock which slid between the lips of her cunt and up into her dripping wet hole in one smooth motion. Held firmly round the waist, powerless to resist, all Zoey could do was brace herself against the back of the seat opposite as she surrendered to being fucked. Hard.

Zoey's naked breasts jiggled and bounced as the man lifted her bodily up and down on his prick, amazing her with his strength. His cock made wet slurps in her cunt as it slid in and out, the scent of her arousal filling her nostrils, the sight of his big hands gripping her round the waist intensely erotic. Whether she liked or not, Zoey was being thoroughly fucked by the black man who held her captive and she could feel every inch of his prick repeatedly filling her cunt to capacity.

But Zoey didn't want the man to spurt his cum into her pussy.

"Please," she begged. "There's lube in my backpack. I want you to fuck me in the ass."

The man responded by straightening his body, tipping Zoey forward so she had to support her head on the cushions of the opposite seat. His prick still hilted in her cunt, her breasts hanging down, she felt naked and exposed as she heard him rummage through her bag for the tube of KY she always kept there.

Zoey waited expectantly as the man squeezed the lube onto his fingers, a thrill of excitement surging in her belly when his fingers touched the sensitive opening of her anus. He kept his prick moving slowly back and forth in her cunt as he smeared the lube around and inside her rectum, working her anus open with first one and then two more of his fingers.

"You're easy," he said and Zoey smiled, knowing it was a compliment.

"Yes," she whispered. "I told you I love to be fucked back there. Yours will be the first cock I've had back there today."

Zoey moaned softly when the black policeman slowly withdrew his cock from her cunt. For a moment she felt empty, hungry for more, an intense desire the policeman satisfied immediately by taking the head of his cock in his hand and pressing it against the muscle of her asshole, forcing it to open. When it did, the man pushed until the first few inches of his prick slid into Zoey's stretched asshole, then he worked in the remainder of his shaft until his silken balls rested against the dripping lips of her cunt.

Zoey never imagined that one day she would have her ass fucked in plain sight on a train. The prospect that anyone could walk past at any moment and see her being sodomized by the ebony prick of the black policeman almost made her pass out with excitement, that and fact that the man with his cock in her ass was still applying lube to her buttocks even though his cock was now firmly lodged in her bowels.

He squeezed out more of the oily liquid, smearing it over the cheeks of her bottom and between her legs making her pubic hair sticky and the lips of her cunt slippery, and even reached down between his own legs to make his balls slick with lube so they slapped wetly against her swollen labia every time he thrust his prick deep into her rectum. The sensation was amazing, his groin making a loud slurping noise every time it pounded against the cheeks of her ass, the force of his thrusts making Zoey grunt with a mix of discomfort and ecstasy as he reached deep into her bowels. Zoey was powerless to do anything more than moan, whimper and fondle her breasts to heighten her arousal, loving what the black man was doing to her despite being fucked in the ass being something she least expected to happen on her journey home.