F is for Fucked

The F train. Or as we Brooklynites say, F is for fucked. The single-train ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan can be the longest trek of your life. Just to get to work. The only way to make it bearable is to have a good play list synched up. Or an absorbing podcast. Or in my case today, some juicy reading material from my fave erotica site, Literotica.

It's already a warm Spring day in New York City, and I'm fresh from a hot yoga class, headed to the office. Freshly showered but still faintly schvitzy from exercising in a 105-degree room for 75 minutes. I'll put on some leggings later at the office to defend against the frigid air-con, but for now I'm wearing a swingy pull-on dress that may be just a little too short without the leggings. But it's NYC so no one cares. Anyway, I'm wearing flat Chuck Taylors so not too trampy.

The wait for the train wasn't horrible this morning, and I actually get on the train -- because sometimes you have to let a train or two pass, they're that crowded. I manage to score a sparse corner at the end of the car so that I have just a couple of people beside me, instead of a clump of moist humans huddled around a pole. Every day I ask myself why I moved from beautiful Northern California to live and toil here. Oh, that's right, to make it in the big bad city. What was I thinking.

The train lurches out of the station as I switch on my phone and continue reading the story I started on the platform. I've read this one several times, but it's a good one, and well-written. I always go through the motions of scanning the new stories, but usually I end up with the ones I've favorited, predominantly anal. What can I say? I am a hard-nosed, type A, ass-sex-loving girl. In the big bad city.

In real life, I've had some decent dating experiences with guys who are smart, are successful, or at least have something going on. No guy will say no to ass sex, but it's not that common to find someone who is as comfortable and uninhibited about it as I am. It's not that a big deal, but it's where I always want to end up. Just don't gush, and don't be fumbly about it. All this to say, sometimes it's simpler to keep my anal proclivities in the literary realm. So, back to my story. Only 12 more stops on this blasted train.

"That's a good site."

I slowly turn my head towards the low, drawly male voice. Like a good city girl, I already have my hackles up, ready to tell someone off. I wasn't prepared for the owner of the voice to be quite so hot, though. Not too tall, about 5'11" -- my favorite height -- perfectly scaled to my 5'8" in my flat Chucks. Clearly coming home from somewhere... scruffy in worn-in jeans, a fitted T-shirt (but not too fitted), sneakers, and thank Christ no backpack -- really despise people with backpacks on crowded subways, just so unmanly. Good body, lightly muscular.

"How about you keep your eyes to yourself?" I'm sure I was glaring at him. At the same time, I could swear I felt my pussy twitch a bit. He is the epitome of the bad boy with the dreamy eyes your mother warned you about.

"I just recognize the blue and white template is all. From one fan to another. Good way to pass the time... No offense." He has a somewhat amused expression, and is that a little smile or a little smirk?

Despicably Brooklyn cool, but oh my God, seriously hot. Dark hair, day-old beard growth, well-defined lips, a twinkle in his dark green eyes as he regards me. My eyes flick downward to check out his hands. This is something of a deal-breaker for me. If I go on a date with a guy I meet online and his hands are no good, it will be a very short date. Well, this one has very nice hands. A little rough. Woodworker? Rock climber? Sculptor? His fingers end in squarish tips, which make me idly wonder if the head of his cock might be likewise knobby. Ladies (and gents), based on my not-modest sample size, there is definitely a correlation between fingers and cock.

I hold his gaze for a few seconds and decide not to add another word. It doesn't matter. I just want to have a smooth commute and enjoy my story. Of course, now I'm a wee bit flustered. While my eyes are on my little screen, I can feel his eyes on me slowly moving down my body, lingering on my long, well-exercised legs. By now I'm kind of regretting wearing this short dress and giving this guy an eyeful. At the same time, it's a bit of a turn-on and my pussy is definitely awake, and I can tell it will start creaming soon. It doesn't help that I just got fully waxed yesterday so my bald mound is pretty sensitive.

I'm willing my nipples to stay down, but of course, they're gonna do their thing and I see with my downcast eyes that they are perking up. Also I was anticipating wearing a cardigan at work so the bra I have on is of thin lace with no nipple coverage whatsoever. In my peripheral vision, I see the guy slowly blink and hear him quietly hiss his breath in through his teeth. And is it my imagination or do I detect his cock is more outlined inside his jeans now? Goddammit, is he getting his rocks off at my expense?? Fuck.

My morning is all turned around now. Still out of the corner of my eye -- while intently staring at my screen -- I see him discreetly shift his cock. Jesus. We just passed two stations when I realized I haven't scrolled down at all. I wonder if he notices. I've read this story several times so already know where the good bits are. But I'm totally distracted by the mini drama happening in real life. My pussy is definitely wet now. I wonder if anyone can smell me... my matching lace panty isn't terribly absorbent, either.

Screeeeeech... The train just came to a halt. As all F riders know, this is not that uncommon an occurrence on this line. We wait for the train to restart, an announcement that the train will be moving shortly... anything. Nothing for a minute, then a tinny voice that sounds like it's coming from Mars, "blah blah blah, switch problems, something something, we'll be moving shortly." Everyone starts punching furiously on their phones. Well, at least I have my story, notwithstanding the big distraction standing just behind me.

Then, the sound we all know so well and dread. The dying hum of the engine turning off and the fans turning on. Oh no. This can take a while. Then the lights shut off. Are you kidding me?? This is like so many erotica scenarios, it's almost comical. I'm not even going to pretend to read. Luckily I'm right next to the end wall. I shut off my phone; who knows, this may really be a while so I may need to conserve battery. I lean against the wall and nod the side of my head towards it. Let's all just take a moment. Meanwhile, I think I hear the hot guy exhale softly nearby. I idly wonder if he's fondling his cock in the dark thinking about my legs.

After about five minutes, the conductor comes on and announces that they are checking a switch and we should be moving within 15 to 20 minutes. Sure. That means they have no idea. A collective groan from the group. Some people settle in with their earbuds or start making small talk.

I'm trying to keep calm. I'm not prone to panic, but as you may have guessed, I'm super impatient. Suddenly, the car makes as if to move and jolts to a sudden stop again. That was actually faintly terrifying. But the net effect is the hot guy is knocked against me.

"Oh hey, sorry."

I don't answer and just heave a soft sigh. Not at him, just at the whole situation, in general. Now he is definitely standing much closer, too close, but kind of nice. Could be my imagination, but I think I can feel his breath on the back of my neck and a slight heat emanating from his body. Then, OK, not my imagination, I'm pretty sure he just leaned his face in closer to smell me. The literal balls on this guy. I'm not one to be shy about speaking out; at the same time, I am intrigued to see what will happen. I mean it's only 15-20 minutes, right?

There's no mistaking it now, he has come in even closer. I can feel the fabric of his jeans on the backs of my legs, and he is definitely breathing me in. Then, here we go, he lightly poses his calloused hands on my arms just above my elbows and brushes his face and nose along my neck.

"You smell nice..." He whispers. He lightly brushes his lips on my neck and downward where it curves into my shoulders. I am very sensitive here, and my panties are definitely wet now. He takes one hand to gently turn my chin toward him and gives me a long, wet kiss. He is an amazing kisser. Makes me imagine how he might use that tongue on my pussy and, with any luck, my ass. I sigh softly and return his kiss.

His opposite hand reaches under my arm to graze a nipple and gently squeeze a breast. Then the hand that was on my chin moves down to my other breast. He is gently yet firmly kneading my tits, running his thumb over the nipples. I hadn't noticed, but I had started pressing my ass into his crotch.

One of his hands now glides down my belly to rest on my pussy mound. The other hand slides down and reaches towards my backside and snuggles onto my ass, such that his middle finger is wedged in my crack through my thin dress and barely-there panty. He has pulled his mouth away from mine to allow more freedom of movement but keeps his face in the crook of my neck and nibbles on it. I can feel his cock is rock hard and straining through his jeans. I reach back and palpate his cock. It feels sizeable.

His front hand pulls off my mound in order to lift the short hem of my dress and returns to my mound now just over the panty. As his rough fingertips detect through the panty that my pussy is bald, he purrs, "Mmmmmm, smooth, I like..." He reaches further forward and downward to discover the wet spot in my crotch and whispers in my ear, "You're so wet... I wish I could lick your pussy. Kiss me." It's awkward, but I crank my head around to stuff my tongue in his mouth. He sucks on it hard and at the same time shoves his hand inside my panty and plunges his first two fingers inside my dripping cunt. I have to remember not to groan out loud.

We stay like this for half a minute, swapping spit and him finger-fucking my pussy. At one point, he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks them clean, then shoves his tongue back in my mouth so we can both taste me. Then, mirroring his front hand, his other hand comes off my ass, lifts my back hem, then slips back inside my panty, with his middle finger regaining its place in the crack of my ass. He then reaches this finger along my perineum to access the cream from my cunt to bring back to my anus and starts to draw small circles on my wink.

His front hand is now alternating between working my clit and dipping into my pussy. My legs are jelly, and he is half propping me up with a hand in front and a hand in back. His hand on my backside has been slowly sweeping pussy juice onto and inside my ass. Eventually, there's enough natural lube that he can start to gradually work his middle finger up my tight hole. It's not long before he adds his ring finger. His front hand now almost exclusively works my clit.

"Can you come from just my hands?" He whispers as he nuzzles my ear.

I lean my head back onto his shoulder and whisper back, "Mmmmmm, maybe. I'm pretty turned on. Not that far off..."

My hand has been on his cock most of this time. I desperately wish I could suck or fuck his cock. I reach both hands behind my back and unbutton his jeans. I'm nearly out of my mind with lust. If I were in a different city or a foreign country right this minute, I might not care if anyone saw us. Not so, the F train, but I must touch the flesh of his cock. I just have to. I unbutton down to the third button of this jeans, enough so that I can slip my hand in and draw his cock upright.

I can tell he has a beautiful cock. From feel, it's got all kinds of definition and texture. He fills my hand nicely. He's dripping with precum which I rub in by doming my fingertips around the ridge of his cockhead and sliding them up and down. I do the best I can, given the gymnastics required.

"I wanna be inside you. In your ass. You want?" As he asks this, he pulls my panty down just below my crotch line to slip his cock between my upper thighs and is bucking back and forth, rubbing his stiff rod along my gooey pussy lips. Both his hands are still toying with my front pussy and my asshole.

"Yes, I want. No lube here though."

"Your pussy juice. My precum. Please. Help a guy out."

Fuck it. I draw both his hands off me, swing around, crouch down, work up a gob of spit and latch my slutty mouth onto his cock. My God, it's wonderful to have my mouth overstuffed with this stud's cock. I'm praying the lights don't come back on. I just need 20 seconds to get as much slobber as possible on his tool. At the same time, I shimmy my panty off, tuck it in the side pocket of my dress, and try to coax more pussy juice onto my ass hole with one hand. This was a lot of inspired mechanics! Could I be any more depraved??

Finally, his cock is as slick as I can possibly get it. I wish I could see it. I imagine it to be glorious, all veiny with a fat head and glistening with my spit. I stand up and swiftly turn around. We both feel an urgency, between not knowing when the train would come back on and just being unbearably hot for a quick fuck.

He flicks up the back of my dress, adds his spit to his fingers to slather on my asshole, then sinks his cock directly into my tight tunnel. Normally I would have liked more lube, but I'm so incredibly horny that my ass readily receives him. It stings for a quick second, then immediately intense pleasure sets in. Good God, I'm such a slut, having anal sex with a random guy on the NYC subway!

He has his face buried in my neck, one hand on my pussy working my clit, and the other hand flat on my chest plate to brace me. He's plowing into me hard and I love it, each time pulling out nearly all the way then sinking back in balls-deep. The perfect ass sex partner. No talking, no fumbling. I usually take a while to come without a vibrator, but let me tell you, this erotica cum real life situation has gotten me so hot that after barely one minute of his cock rocking my chute and his fingers working my clit, I come hard and fast.

He feels my orgasm arriving and stuffs the fingers of the hand that had been on my chest into my mouth. I bite down pretty hard on his calloused fingers as he reaches his own climax, bucking hard into my ass. His teeth sink into my shoulder to suppress his grunts. I'm definitely going to have to wear a sweater all day now. That bite mark will stay for days.

As his orgasm gradually subsides, he's panting in my ear and I hear him swallow hard to catch his breath. I'm still savoring his fingers as my ass squeezes its final pulses around his cock. I turn my head and we share a greedy, wet kiss. F is for fucked, indeed.

"Call in sick. Come back to my loft so I can suck on that pussy and tend to your ass all day," he mutters against my lips, one hand still fondling my throbbing cunt, the other now lazily caressing my breasts, his semi-hard cock still snug in my wanton ass. I do feel a bit feverish.