Lonely in the City

1. Introduction

When I moved to New York I knew nobody. I was alone. I didn't even have a friend from college in the city. That's okay, I thought, I was young and reasonably attractive and half the population is men and someone will notice me, invite me out, and presto, the end of loneliness. And if that didn't work, there's always friendships with other women, right?

I hadn't counted on the long hours at work and my level of exhaustion when at the end of the day I would finally get to my tiny and somewhat depressing apartment, over in New Jersey. I barely had the energy to cook some ravioli for dinner and do the dishes before falling asleep in front of the television. Eventually I'd wake and haul myself off to bed.

I worked six days a week and Sundays I slept. I'm not religious so I couldn't handle going to church as a way to meet people. Besides, it would interfere with my sleep! The upshot is that I met no love interests and made no friends, women or men or otherwise (dogs? cats?). I figured I'd give it a few months and things would get better, right? Wrong.

I lived in Jersey City and I took the path train (a type of subway that went under the Hudson River) right to the World Trade Center where I worked. It was always jam packed with people just like me and sometimes some creepy guy would press a little too close, copping a quick feel of my boobs or ass depending on where he stood. I just let it go. My brother would have called it 'grazing my boobage.' Actually, copping a feel of my ass was more frequent, probably because then the jackass was behind me. I figured it was life in the big city.

One time though on a Saturday the train was mostly empty. I was wearing a summer dress that was actually fairly short. When I sat I let it ride up my thigh as much as the dress wanted to do, and when I sat with one leg over the other I was showing thigh almost all the way up to my hip. The guy across from me was enjoying the view, I could tell, and I kind of liked that he was.

I uncrossed my legs and sat straight. I let my knees drift apart just a bit. Since my thighs are thin I'm fairly sure that the guy across from me could have easily passed a quiz about my panties. What color are they? Lavender. Were they dry or wet? Mostly dry with a single wet spot in the lower middle. Were they plain cotton, silk, or lace? Plain cotton. Were they grannie panties or bikini panties? Bikini, and skimpy ones at that. Excellent my friend, you get an A+.

One more tidbit. When I left the train there's a long, steep staircase to get out of the station to the street. My voyeur lingered at the bottom as I climbed the stairs, and I'm sure he enjoyed a lovely look up my skirt. He doubtless saw my lavender panties hugging my pussy and perhaps he noticed they were now seriously wetter? You never know with these low level voyeurs.

These little anonymous teases helped to keep the blues at bay about my complete lack of a social life. I know it's ridiculous but they reassured me about my desirability. I needed the reassurance since I had yet to meet a single man outside of work! Men at work were off limits. It would be too complicated to have an affair with a colleague. I could tease them, though, and occasionally I would.

One time I wore a skirt to work that was a little shorter than usual, and I noticed Pete checking out my legs. I decided I had an itch high up on my thigh. My hand went under my skirt and I discretely pushed it up my thigh pretending nobody could see me doing it. Actually the only person who could was Pete, given where his chair was situated. Little by little my skirt went up my thigh until I found the nonexistent spot of the itch and scratched my upper thigh happily.

A little later I caught Pete's eye and smiled at him. He blushed a deep fuschia.

*********

2. My Friend Dina

Frustrated by not having furniture nor curtains or blinds, I rented a car one Sunday and I drove to the closest Ikea. I felt that I need to make my living quarters more livable. My apartment had been a bit of a dream for an exhibitionist, since I had no curtains or blinds. Pity that I'm not an exhibitionist. I'm actually quite a private person. Well, mostly I am, except for, for example, times like my subway rides when shit happens. I prefer to call those times innocent flirting.

I had one chair, a table, a chest of drawers, and a TV. For privacy I had to go to the bathroom to change, and occasionally I would be so tired I would just shed my clothes as I went to bed. If somebody saw me in my birthday suit, well, so what? It was unlikely and besides, I just didn't care anymore.

At Ikea when I was checking out the blinds and curtains I met another woman there doing the same thing. Ikea had a place for lunch so Dina and I had lunch together (Swedish meatballs - yummy!) and we hit it off. It turned out she lived in the same apartment complex as I did, and we drove back caravan style. She invited me over to her place which was in just as primitive a state as was mine.

We talked and talked and talked some more as new girlfriends are wont to do, with me in her one chair and her on the floor. As diplomats would say we had a frank and wide-ranging discussion about our life histories, our jobs and our favorite ice cream flavors and yes, near the end, sex and men. We went out for dinner (that was so we'd both have chairs to sit in!) and at dinner we ended up discussing the horror of the caged children at the border. She told me of a demonstration next Sunday in the city to protest the border crisis and we decided to go to it together. Both of us were in the market for boyfriends, so we had fun planning what to wear to the demonstration.

I decided to channel the hippie period for the demonstration and wore a bandana, a T shirt without a bra, and a long flowing skirt, plus sandals. I have long hair and the bandana set it off nicely. Dina wore a T shirt that said, right across her boobs, "Good, But Not Easy," and then Daisy Duke shorts since she had dynamite legs, and why not show them off? I thought they showed off a bit more of her bare ass cheeks than would be my taste, but hey, that's just me. We made quite the pair. We made up some signs and took the path train under the river to the demonstration at Foley Square.

Dina had said that demonstrations were a great way to meet like-minded men, and damn if it didn't work for her! She picked up a great guy, I struck out, and the three of us took the path train back to Jersey City. She invited the guy, named Stew, over for pot luck. Dina was of Italian ancestry and maybe that's why whenever she touched pasta it turned out divine. I was also impressed that all of her Ikea furniture and blinds were up. Mine were still in their boxes!

My mother always said the old cliché that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I'm sure she's right in the final analysis, but the way to get a man interested in the first place is through sex. Dina and Stew wanted me to stay, but once the two of them were making out and Dina was undressed down to her shorts with her generous boobs hanging out for all to see and for Stew to caress and tweak, I quietly took my leave.

The next morning Dina called me at 6AM for breakfast. "The dress code is topless. Is that okay?" We discussed it a bit, and I went over in gym shorts and a T-shirt and nothing else. I was a little exposed walking through the complex to her apartment but at 6AM it wasn't much of a problem. Just before I rang her bell I removed my T shirt and I was topless.

Dina made delicious omelets for the three of us, since Stew had ended up spending the night and he was also topless. He had a gorgeous chest, ripped and with just the right amount of chest hair. He stared unapologetically at my boobs, which surprised me since he had just enjoyed, I felt sure, fucking his brains out with Dina all night long and her boobs were seriously bigger than mine. I did know from past experience, however, that there's something about my boobs that tends to mesmerize men. I don't know what it is.

We had our surreal topless breakfast and then I returned and dressed for work. By chance we all took the same path train into Manhattan and our jobs. During the short train ride (circa 15 minutes) Dina and Stew invited me on a blind double date with a friend of Stew's the next weekend.

Stew had a crude moment. He said that when his friend Mike saw my boobs he would fall for me like a ton of bricks. "Mike is a boobs fanatic, you see," Stew added, "and your boobs are a work of art. They're gorgeous and they make a man want to touch them forever."

"He may not see my boobs, Stew. I have to like a guy to do that, you know? We may not click," I said.

"You seemed pretty casual about your boobs this morning," Stew said.

"That was for Dina," I teased. Let him think about that! Dina giggled.

"Well, I must say that I enjoyed it, too. It's too bad we all had to leave for work. Dina and I might have enjoyed a threesome with you," Stew said.

I don't shock easily, but that remark did the trick. I was shocked, surprised, flummoxed, whatever you want to call it. I shot a glance at Dina and she was smiling, without even a trace of surprise, embarrassment, or indignation on her face. Well, she had just fucked the guy she had met only hours earlier, I realized. Dina is made of different stuff than I am. Well, I don't judge, and good for her.

I knew I had to react to what Stew had said. Not knowing what to say, I said, "I don't know either of you well enough for something like that, Stew. Group sex is not my thing."

"Have you ever tried it?" Stew asked.

"No." Okay that was a small lie, but the question about my past sex life was completely inappropriate.

"Well then, how do you know?" Dina asked. I was surprised Dina had joined in. I had thought this was all just in the perverted mind of Stew. After all, don't men like to seduce as many women as possible? Notches on their belts, and all that stuff?

Luckily we reached our stop and the conversation ended. We all worked in the World Trade Center complex as it turned out. We left but arranged the blind date for the next weekend, and the three of us went to our respective jobs.

***************

3. My Blind Date with Mike

The next weekend, Saturday night to be precise, the four of us met at a watering hole near the World Trade Center, and I laid eyes on my blind date Mike for the first time. He was nice looking, nothing to write home about, but then I'm not exactly Alexandria Daddario myself, am I? My boobs however are in fact a lot like hers, and my body in general is, too. It's our faces that differ.

What I liked about Mike was his gift of gab. He was a great conversationalist and extraordinarily witty. He kept me laughing throughout the dinner as he plied me with wine. Now I can hold my liquor, but I don't weigh that much and no girl my weight could hold all the liquor and wine Mike tried to get me to drink. I got fairly drunk.

After dinner we all went to Mike's place which is in Manhattan. We all wanted to continue the evening. I confess I was not only having the most fun since I moved to Manhattan but this was one of the best evenings of my life. Mike seemed to be perfect for me in every way. I could only hope he liked me, too, and that he thought I was a good candidate to be his new girlfriend.

It was all magical, or it was that is until Stew and Dina began to make out. New York apartments tend to be tiny, and there was no place for Mike and me to go to give Stew and Dina a modicum of privacy except Mike's bedroom. I found the situation to be awkward. By the time Dina was undressed to her panties, and the half-life of her panties I estimated to be around five minutes at this point, I was too embarrassed to still be there, watching.

I took Mike's hand and led him to the bedroom. Dina and Stew protested, urging us to stay, but I just couldn't handle it. Now, however, I was in Mike's bedroom and it was, naturally enough, dominated by a bed. It all seemed quite suggestive to me. The old phrase 'Out of the frying pan, into the fire' came to mind.

Mike and I looked at each other. "It's getting late. I should probably go home now, Mike. I had a wonderful time. I hope to see you again," I said.

"If you go now, Dina and Stew will get upset, thinking they made you uncomfortable, and it will kill their fun," Mike said.

"They'll get over it. Nothing will stop them, anyway. The two of them are like a runaway train. If I leave maybe they'll ask you to join in?" I said, shocking myself. I never say nor even think things like that; it was because of that damnable conversation with Dina and Stew in the path train almost a week earlier. The conversation where Stew had proposed a threesome took hold in me and I could not get the thought out of mind for the life of me. Jeez, what does that say about me? I decided it said I was way, way too horny.

"Oh, are you into group sex?" Mike asked, as if it were a natural question to ask someone, like asking if they like eggplant.

"No, absolutely not. I'm a one man at a time kind of girl," I said.

Even as I said that I knew it was a small fib. There was that one time in college with two guys that I'll never forget for the rest of my life. My erotic fantasies return to it with a certain regularity. The problem is it just doesn't jive with my self image of being a nice girl. I think of it as being the exception that proved the rule.

I wondered if Mike saw through my emphatic denial? Mike seemed to be able to look inside my soul.

"I'd love to be that one man," Mike said.

"Really? You would? Want to kiss me then?" I said, thinking at the time Oh My God I can't believe I said that! I'm such a hussy! What's wrong with me? Then I made it worse. I said, "You haven't tried, so I thought maybe you weren't interested me in that way. Which is fine! I like you irrespective of sex," I said and then almost died of shame from my behavior. What was wrong with me??

Mike smiled and he kissed me. Ten minutes later I was naked above the waist and we were still kissing. Mike sat back to take in the sight of my boobs. "Dammit all, Stew was completely right about your boobs. They are stunning. Best I've ever seen and the best I ever hope to see!" Mike said and he caressed them lovingly. He had a gentle touch. His hands felt divine on my boobs. We resumed kissing.

I became so ashamed that Stew had told him about my boobs. I must seem like such a slut to him. I wanted him to like me, not just to use me to get his rocks off.

When he tried to take off my skirt, I pushed away from him and told him, "I'm sorry Mike. I really like you, but psychologically I can't go any farther sexually than we already have on the first date. This is our first date. I really do like you, and I want to, but I just can't do it," I said.

Oh shit, I sounded absolutely no different than I did in high school! I had taken men to bed in college quite casually in fact. My self-image was different than reality. It was so very different.

At that moment I heard the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and I heard Dina's soft little moans. I looked at Mike. He was studying my face.

"Want to take a peek?" he asked.

"No, they should have some privacy, Mike," I said.

"Just a peek. Have you ever seen two people doing it?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. I watch Internet porn as much as the next girl," I replied.

"It's different when it's right in front of you and it's people you know and like," Mike said. "You can see it, hear it, and best of all you can smell it. You can almost feel it."

Mike kissed me and tweaked my right nipple as he did so, to the accompaniment of louder and louder moans from Dina. He took my hand and gently pulled me up and then walked me to the door which was wide open.

In front of us was a naked Dina sitting on Stew's cock on the couch, bouncing around, while Stew's nice, thick cock was imitating a piston in her pussy. Her pussy looked to be soaking wet. I had seen a porn image on the Internet which was an exact replica of the scene, only this was Dina and Stew, not two anonymous porn actors!

For some reason the face of the man doing the fucking in a porn scene is usually outside the frame of the picture. Usually (but not always) the focus is completely on the woman. Here I got to see Stew's face as he fucked my only friend. I loved seeing his expression, as it combined lust, pleasure, and thrill all at the same time. Wow, sex can really affect men, too! No wonder they always want it.

I knew I too was already wet, just from the kissing and breast fondles with Mike. I pulled Mike away from the door, already embarrassed to have seen so much. I knew the image would remain in my mind forever. Somehow, though, my attitude changed. I was hopelessly turned on. I thought to myself: Oh, what the fuck! I made a fateful decision.

I led Mike to his bed, and undressed him. I lay him on the bed and played with his cock which became hard and grew to its full length in no time. I guessed it was an average cock, but who the fuck cared? I'm the type of girl who fucks the man, not his organ.

I went down on him. Mike seemed not to have been expecting it but it was clear I was giving him a happy surprise. I guess he expected a hand job? Anyway, he seemed happy, even ecstatic.

I added my hand and pumped his cock in between bouts with my mouth. I just kept at it, relentlessly, until he announced he was ready to cum. I lay down and he squirted all over my boobs. I was glad he left my face alone, and I smiled lovingly at him.

His eyes were smiling at me with deep affection. Could it be love? Nah, we had only just met. Still, it was a promising reaction! We kissed some more and he caressed the parts of my boobs that his cum had spared. He rolled me over and unzipped the back of my skirt, and then rolled me onto my back again. He smiled at me and I smiled back. I raised my hips as he removed my skirt.

I was now wearing only my holdup stockings and panties. Remember, I had come directly from work. He looked at me. It was a look that combined lust, need, and tender affection. It was the third component that did it for me. I raised my hips again as my panties came off.

"You're already wet," he said.

"I've been wet for a long time already, Mike. As I've said, I like you."

"May I?"

"Yes, please," I said, to my own shock and surprise. There, it was done. Mike would be the first guy in history to lay me on the first date. This doesn't count all those collegiate one night stands now, does it? Why am I so damn dishonest with myself? Well anyway, good for him.

When he entered me I knew he was special. It had never before felt this good to have a man inside me. I'm not usually a noisy girl when I get fucked because in college the walls were thin and I didn't want people to hear me. Now I was no longer in college and not caring what Stew and Dina would hear as I moaned to my heart's content while Mike fucked the bejesus out of me.

On top of everything, Mike was a great fuck! I knew Stew and Dina had finished. They had been noisy. As Mike fucked me in missionary position I sensed eyes on us and I turned my head towards the doorway. There were our two naked friends, fresh from their own intimacy, watching us copulate. I'd never been watched before and I expected to be freaked out and scream if it ever happened.

Bizarrely, in contrast to being freaked out my arousal, already considerable, seemed to double! I began verbally to urge Mike on, to fuck me harder, to fuck me faster, to give me everything he had! Mike responded in kind and his previously loving, tender romp morphed into a nice, rough fuck. To my shock and disquiet I discovered I love a good rough fuck. My climax was the best of my life and I screamed it out as if it were bloody murder.