Anal Sex with Stranger on a Train 03

* * * * *

He wondered her name yet perhaps better he didn't know her name, being that he had a wife and kids to protect, he'd rather that they just remain strangers, that is, until she was getting him off with the subtle movement and the humping motion of her ass. Oh, yeah, something he's never done before while having anal sex, he was getting ready to cum inside of her. With his other anal sex partners, whenever he was lucky enough to find one, never allowing him to finish, this would be the first time he ejaculated in a woman's ass. He's never been this far inside of a woman to get sexually excited enough to cum in a woman's ass but now he was about to do just that.

To ejaculate in a woman's beautiful behind, a woman who was so beautiful, so sexy, and so willing, was so much better than the whores and prostitutes that he hired for anal sex. Without having ejaculated in their asses, the anal sex that they briefly gave him never completely satisfied him. He recalled some of the women that he hired and tried to persuade them to give him anal sex. Specifically he recalled those women, those prostitutes, who had rejected him so vehemently. He recalled Keisha, Ruby, and Ebony.

"Get that cock out my ass honkie. Keisha don't have anal sex with anyone but her man," said Keisha waving her black, manicured, index finger in his face as if it was a metronome keeping the beat to her words. "Uh, uh, on no. You dig?"

"Say what Fool? You want to fuck Ruby up her ass? I don't think so. Not today. This ass don't fuck white men," she said. "This ass is only reserved for black cock. Unless you have a color change, they'll be no fucking Ruby up her ass today sugar."

"I beg your pardon? You want to fuck me up the ass? I don't think so," said Ebony putting her hand to her shapely hip and lifting her nose to the ceiling. "Fucking me up the ass will cost you more money than you have or will ever have," said Ebony. "What's say I just suck your cock?"

Compared to them, this beautiful woman standing before him was an angel. Compare to them, she was a model, and/or a celebrity movie stare in the way of Charlize Theron, Uma Thurman, or Robin Wright was but with tits. So close to cumming, just a little more, just a few more humps will just about do it, and he was ready to shoot a load of cum in her ass that would rival the load of cum that he routinely shot in his wife's mouth and/or pussy.

* * * * *

Wishing it was his wife he was fucking up the ass, alas that would never be. She'd never be agreeable to having anal sex. Even when she was drunk and sound asleep, as if somehow knowing that his cock was getting ready to take the anal plunge and that her ass was vulnerable to be so violated, she'd wake up. She must have incoming ass radar.

"What are you doing Peter?" Slurring her words, somehow she was lucid enough to know that he was about to fuck her up the ass.

"Nothing. I, um, lost my cough drop."

"And you thought your cough drop fell in my ass? Is that it?"

"Never mind. I found it right here on the mattress. Go back to sleep honey."

* * * * *

Only, just as he nearly reached the point of no return, the train stopped, the lights came on, the doors opened, and she pulled away from him. The suction he felt from his cock being buried in her ass before being so abruptly pulled out of her ass was as if pulling a cork from a bottle. He swore he heard a pop and looked down to make sure that his cock was still there and not stuck in her ass.

In an instant it was over. With his cock leaking pre-cum, he quickly tucked himself back in his pants and she lifted up her panties and pulled down her dress. That was really something. Totally amazing and totally unexpected, that was really something. Something he'll dream about and fantasize about for the rest of his life, he was breathless after having anal sex with a stranger on the train. He only wished he could have filled her anal cavity with his cum.

Still stunned and still reeling from the sexually excitement of finally having anal sex with a stranger on a train, he couldn't believe what just happened. He looked up at her while expecting her to be beautiful, as beautiful as Christie Brinkley was twenty years ago. If only by her beautiful ass, the best ass he's ever felt and the best ass he's ever seen, she must be beautiful. If only by the back of her beautiful head with her long, blond hair cascading down her back, and by the beautiful side profile of her beautiful face, she must be beautiful.

He couldn't wait for her to turn around. He couldn't wait to see her face so that he could dream about her tonight and every night for the rest of his life. Breaking his rule of sharing his identity with her to know her name, he had to know her name. Tonight when he dreamt of fucking her up her ass again, he needed to call her by something. Moreover, wanting anal sex with her to be a regular occurrence, he had to see her again. He needed to fuck her up her ass, just one more time, at least, in her bedroom, in her bed, and with the lights on or in the dark, whichever she preferred.

"Please, before you go. Tell me your name, just your first name. I need to know your name so that I can call you by something when I dream about you tonight," he said.

She just stood there with her back to him as if frozen in place. Now that the lights were on in the train and the doors were open, maybe the realization that she allowed a stranger to have his wicked way with her ass was too embarrassing for her now. Now that he asked her name, maybe giving out her name, even just her first name, was something too personal, even more personal than allowing him to fuck her up the ass.

"My name is Peter," he said while hoping that she'd turn around and respond in kind and give him her name too.

As the passengers alighted from the train, now with more room for them to move around, she turned to him, smiled, and offered him her hand. Only, instead of falling in love, he felt as if he was having a sudden heart attack. The sharp pain that traveled from his cock to his chest and through his brain to give him a sudden, excruciating headache felt as if he ate ice cream too fast. As if a phonograph needle went across a phonograph album and made a screeching noise with a LP width scratch, he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Robert, but my friends, especially those who fuck me up my ass, call me Roberta," he said. "That was the best train ride I've ever had, if you know what I mean," he said with a laugh, a wiggle, and a wink.

"Sorry," said Peter. "I'm so sorry. Oh, my God, you can't believe how sorry I am. With your long, blonde hair, high heels, big tits, and dress, I thought you were a woman. I didn't know you were a man."

Suddenly, the song Lola by Ray Davies of the Kinks played through his mind.

"I met her in a club in North Soho where you drink champagne and it tastes like cherry cola, See-O-L-A cola. She walked up to me and she asked me to dance. I asked her name and in a dark, brown voice she said, Lola, L-O-L-A Lola, lo, lo, lo, lo Lola. Well, I'm not the world's most physical guy but when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine, oh my Lola, lo, lo, lo, lo Lola. Well, I'm not dumb but I can't understand why she walked like a woman and talked like a man, oh, my Lola, lo, lo, lo, lo Lola.

"It's okay Honey," he said. "Apparently, that was your first time having anal sex. Am I right?" When Peter didn't answer, with Peter looking as if he was in shock and he was, he asked his question again. "Was that your first time having anal sex?"

"Yes," said Peter too shocked to apologize further, to expand on his explanation, and/or to confess his sexual fantasy of having anal sex on a train.

"Here's my number. Call me," she said with a big assed smile while raising her fingers to her mouth and ear as if she was holding the receiver of a phone. "We must do this again."

* * * * *

After fucking a man up the ass, unable to stop masturbating over the experience of having anal sex with a stranger on the train, Peter wondered if he was gay. Who knew she was a cross dressing transsexual? Wondering if her tits were real, he couldn't stop thinking about her or him, as the case may be. He couldn't stop thinking about his anal, sexual encounter. He wished he had never asked her name. He wished she had not turned around.

Strange that it took a stranger to give him anal sex and for him to have the best sex of his life, it took a man to give him such sexual pleasure. If only she was a woman instead of a man, he'd be the happiest man alive. If only she was the tall, beautiful, busty, blonde, woman that he thought she was, he'd leave his wife for her. Nonetheless, especially since he felt confident in his sexual orientation that he wasn't a gay man, assuredly, without doubt, he wasn't a gay man, unable to get her or him out of his head, he called Roberta to ask her if they could have anal sex again.

To be continued...