The Commute

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Julia meets a stranger on the train who surprises her.
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Every day the same. Get ready for work, drive to the train, get on the train, ride into Manhattan, get off the train, walk to work. Rinse repeat.

And then one day, a man named Clark walked into my train car and sat down beside me, and everything changed for the better. It's hard to remember which one of us addressed the other first but it wasn't long until we had established a regular, friendly routine. We spoke about work, about our spouses, about travel, about politics. We spoke about everything and anything. Clark traveled a lot for work over seeing the regional restaurant empire of a well known chef and so there were long stretches – sometimes weeks at a time- where we didn't see each other. I found I'd grown accustomed to his company and missed him in his absence. Good friends are hard to find and good commuting friends are even harder. You spend 2 hours a day every day with the same group of people on the train but typically don't hit it off with most other passengers.

It was during one of these long stretches apart that summer turned over to autumn and the days grew colder. It's my favorite time of the year. I love the scent of wood burning in the fireplace and I love the feeling of the leaves crinkling under my feet. I especially love to wear my stockings and garter belt with high heels to work, which are perfect for the cool autumn mornings. When I wear them I feel sexy and powerful. From all outward appearances I'm wearing ordinary pantyhose like any other woman; only I know the secret hidden under my skirt. I find I hold my head up a little higher when I walk down the street and I am more confident in meetings at the office.

I was sitting in my usual spot on the LIRR one recent Monday morning in Autumn when Clark strolled my way.

"Long time no see stranger", he called to me from down the aisle.

I gave him my best smile as he moved closer to me. He sat down next to me and smiled in return. He looked great and I was glad to see him. We began to chit-chat and catch up on the latest events in our lives since we'd last spoken. Throughout our conversation though I noticed he seemed a bit distracted. I was more than a little offended because we're supposed to be friends and friends give each other due attention when conversing. It wasn't until about 20 minutes into our conversation that it dawned on me he was sneaking glances at my upper thigh. I followed his gaze and noticed that my skirt had ridden up my leg, exposing the top of my stocking and the clasp of my garter belt. Up until that moment I never considered the possibility that Clark could be sexually attracted to me. He seemed like such the straight shooter when it came to his marriage and while I often found myself fantasizing about him in those little moments alone in the bath, I never assumed he saw me as anything other than his commute companion. Over the next few minutes I watched his gaze return again and again to my thigh. It was such a turn on. He was clearly hooked on the view and I felt even more powerful than I did from wearing the sexy clothes. He wanted me. He wanted me. My smile widened as I turned this delicious reality over and over again in my mind.

A few moments later I took the strategic opportunity to turn toward him slightly; just enough to provide him a perfect viewing angle of my black lace demi bra that I wore under my low cut top. I watched with pleasure as his eyes now trailed from my thigh to my breasts and back to my face. Over and over he rotated between these views. All the while we discussed ordinary events. I was disappointed when the train pulled into Penn station and it was time to go our separate ways. It was nearly impossible to get any work done that day as I sat in my office thinking over the morning's turn of events with Clark.

Our fun was just beginning. Each day that week he appeared on the train, found his place beside me, and devoured my body with his eyes. Each day I tried to open myself up to him a little bit more. My signals and hints became more decadent. By Friday I thought nothing of casually draping my arm across his thigh mid-sentence or absentmindedly stroking my neck with the hand of my other arm. I measured my progress in seduction by how visibly difficult it became for him to focus on our banal conversations.

He remained on my mind every hour of that weekend. I lay next to my husband but when he put his hands on me I thought about Clark. I fantasized that Clark was thinking of me also as he lay with his wife.

On Monday I took the game up another level. I took more than a dozen self-portraits in lingerie on my camera phone early that morning at home and when Clark sat next to me on the train I tuned in and out of our conversation as I reviewed the photos on my phone.

"Sorry to be a bad conversationalist today. I'm working on an special intimate project.", I said to him.

I knew this would get his attention.

If he wasn't already looking over my shoulder before my remark, he was definitely doing so now. I was very slow and deliberate with my pace in moving through the pictures, rotating the images, cropping one, adjusting the lighting on another, pretending not to notice his attention on me. I could hear his breathing slowly progress to a heavier rhythm beside me. Hooked! He was absolutely hooked. I had him in the palm of my hand. My confidence swelled and I was already wet, aroused by my own sexual prowess. I grinned from ear to ear in victory, I couldn't help myself.

Clark leaned in very close to me. I suspected that he might be so far over the edge that he would try to kiss me. That wouldn't be a great idea in public. You never know who knows someone who knows someone who knows my husband or his wife. I panicked for just a moment, my smile collapsing. But he didn't try to kiss me. He leaned in even closer, brought his mouth near my ears and whispered to me these words:

"I know you're very proud of yourself Julia. I know the game you've been playing and I know you think you've won. Every day last week you thought you were controlling me, manipulating me, teasing me. You were so fucking full of yourself it never occurred to you that I saw right through you and was playing the game as well. I'm an excellent poker player and in this game of sexual poker I'm the best there ever was. And now it's my turn to show you who has really been in control this whole time."

Slowly he drew his head away from me and when I looked at his face I saw that his jaw was tightened and his eyes were steady and serious.

I was anxious and incredibly aroused at the same time. He didn't say another word to me the rest of the way into Manhattan and I didn't speak to him either. Too afraid to break the spell of the moment.

He slipped a piece of paper into my hand as we approached Penn station. I opened it to read what he had written clearly some time prior to this morning.

In case you harbor any remaining doubts as to who is steering this ship you will observe that I am calling you out on your blatant seduction schemes here in this note (which I wrote last Friday soon after I got home). You've played well, you've put up a brave front, but now we're going to do things my way. When this train stops you are going to follow me to my office. You are not going to speak until spoken to. And you are going to do what I say for the rest of the day. Is that understood? I hope you didn't begin this game without intending to finish it.

The train came to a stop in the station and the passengers in our car stood up to exit the train. Each time I made eye contact with Clark he returned my expression with that same unwavering stare. I knew I was going to follow him. Clearly he knew it as well. He was right; he was in control. We stepped off the train, him in front and me behind and then he paused to fall back beside me as we walked toward the ground floor and out onto the street. He was currently working in a new restaurant just a few blocks from the station and he led me there straightaway. Once inside he escorted me to the bar and poured us both a drink from behind the counter. A quick cocktail of my favorite (he must have remembered from our conversations) – Baileys with milk over ice. Two cocktails later without a word spoken between us he quietly signaled for me to follow him as led me to his office.

It was a small room with just a bookcase full of cookbooks and a working desk that supported his laptop, a stack of papers, and a picture of his wife and children at the beach. Touching. I thought about the kind of man I thought Clark was – innocent, shy, and a bit introverted - and then I thought about the revelations that morning that demonstrated what kind of man he really is.

"First things first princess. You are going to give me a massage."

I stood there, dumbfounded while he opened up his desk drawer and removed a bottle of massage oil. He sat it on the desk and then walked over to his door and turned the lock. He returned to the desk and asked me (for which I was appreciative and grateful) if I was ready to begin. I nodded. He relaxed a bit then and smiled as he gestured toward his pants and shrugged his shoulders.

"These pants aren't going to take themselves off princess."

I took three steps toward him and placed my hands on his waistband. I captured the top button with my fingers and deftly unbuttoned his pants before sliding the zipper down. As my hand brushed against his boxers I could feel his dick and it was very hard. That really stoked my arousal. He was hard for me. For me. As I worked his pants off his toned, tanned legs, he propped himself up on the desk, sliding his laptop, the papers, and the family photo carefully to the far end. I moved closer again, this time unbuttoning his shirt and then removing it. I quietly removed his socks next, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. I was still fully dressed and that helped me feel a bit more in control. Sitting his is office chair and facing him, I opened the bottle of oil and dribbled just a bit into my left hand. With my right hand I rubbed against my left, spreading the oil across the entire surface of my hands. I brought my hands to his chest and rubbed them up over his collarbone and then down over his nipples. I returned to the nipples and ran my fingers up and over them again. He let his head fall back just a bit as his hands found mind and pushed them lower. I worked his abs, his upper thigh and his calves, but was careful to avoid his pelvic region. I massaged his feet, leaning on the expert techniques I'd learned on my last trip to Phuket in the Thai spas. I could tell he was growing impatient.

"Don't forget that I'm in control princess."

He said so, but in that moment I felt the scales were tipped a little more evenly and I liked that.

I decided to go in for the kill. I slid my hands down inside his boxers and ran my fingers against his flesh, trailing down to the base of his dick. Once I had them there I circled the base loosely, slid my hands one after the other down along the shaft and up and over the tip. I looked up at Clark hoping to make eye contact but he'd closed his eyes. With a smooth motion I slipped his dick out over the top of his boxers and down, exposing him to me. Still his eyes remained closed. I held my breath and moved my mouth effortlessly toward his dick and gingerly took it into my mouth.

For this, he opened his eyes.

He looked at me tenderly then, with a vulnerability I found endearing. I started to work him with my mouth, taking him in deeper with each pass. He was very thick and longer than average but I have excellent control of my gag reflex so it was no problem. While I licked, sucked, and slurped his dick with my mouth I toyed with his balls with my hands. After a few more minutes of this he said to me, "As much as I love this, I don't want to peak too soon. This feels so fucking good I can only imagine how great the sex is going to be. It's time to get you ready."

Little did he know I was already soaking wet. Still, the foreplay was nice. He pulled me up to stand between his legs. He nibbled my earlobes, kissed along my jawline and tongued my mouth expertly. He executed quick little bites along both sides of my neck as he massaged my breasts through my blouse with his hands. His hands moved first to my thighs and then up over the top of my stockings and to just above the parting of my thighs. He petted me through my lacy panties before working his hand underneath and stroking my clit for a good one two three count. I let out a moan and my knees trembled a bit. I wanted him inside of me now. Now!

He knew what I wanted but he wanted to remind me who was in control of this game. He grabbed me by the back of my hair and pulled my head back gently. With his right hand holding my hair and his left hand still inside my panties he leaned closer to me again and whispered in my ear, "I am GOING to fuck you Julia."

My knees buckled upon hearing this welcome news and I whimpered a bit as I was held in place by his grip on my hair. He turned us around in a fluid motion, placing me against the desk with him facing. He let go of my hair, slid his hand out from under my skirt and then used both hands to pull my skirt, garter belt, panties, and stockings off. He hoisted me up on the desk bare assed and pushed me back so that the back of my blouse and I fell against the surface of the desk. He pulled me closer to the edge of the desk with his strong arms and hoisted my legs above his shoulders. Somewhere in that process he'd also managed to remove his boxers because as I peered around my own thighs I saw he was now completely naked. He literally ripped my blouse apart, buttons flying everywhere and grabbed my breasts hard through the lacy material as he entered me. I'd like to report that he started with slow and easy motions before picking up the pace (because that sounds so fitting and erotic for this memoir) but he was in control and he fucked me hard and fast from the start. He was insatiable with lust and desire and just couldn't get enough of me. He slammed into me over and over and over again like a wild animal. This went on for a good ten minutes and I was just about to cum for him when he pulled out of my pussy and ejaculated all over my breasts and neck. There's nothing sexier than a man marking his territory on my body with his cum but I was so close to the edge without relief that I began to cry softly.

"Please.", I begged through tears that were coming faster now. "Please, finish me."

He smiled at me, a wide cocky grin.

He reached into his desk and pulled out a blindfold (who the hell keeps a blindfold in his desk?).

He placed the blindfold over my eyes and said, "This is my little souvenir from my last transpacific flight. I find it handy for blocking out the light during afternoon naps at work. Now we have put it to better use."

Clothed only in my bra and with his cum still drizzled across my chest, he led me barefoot across his office and I heard him open the door. I paused.

"Clark. Clark! Aren't your staff going to see us?", I asked in a panic.

"No, mandatory safety training today at our sister restaurant on Columbus Circle. Everyone headed over there at least 20 minutes ago."

He led me by the hand out of his office and presumably the other way down the hallway which we had originally entered through.

"You're so fucking hot right now, I think we need to cool you off."

I had no idea where this was going.

I heard a door open; it sounded like something was being unsealed. And then he was tugging on my arm again and pulling me into a room before turning me sideways.

"Fuck the floor is cold Clark".

"In the first place, of course it's cold, it's the walk in refrigerator. In the second place, didn't I tell you not to speak unless spoken to?"

He grabbed me by my hair again and said sternly, "That's the last time you disobey me princess. Do you understand?"

I didn't say a word in reply.

He told me to lean against the wall which was waiting behind me and I did. He let go of my arm. He told me to slide down the wall till I came to the ground and I did. He was already on the ground waiting for me and as I met the floor (fucking cold floor!), he slid my legs out further from the wall, pulling my whole body toward the center of the room. He spread my legs with his arms and started licking and nibbling the inside of my left thigh. He sucked and licked his way down to my vulva and just when I thought he was going to take care of me he skipped over it and started licking and nibbling the inside of my right thigh. Agony. Agony. Agony. I whimpered again and ran my fingers anxiously through his hair.

He repeated these motions at least twice more before he finally rewarded me with the best clit licking I have every experienced. Occasionally he'd pause to take my entire clitoris into his mouth, tonguing it, while probing my pussy with his fingers. It didn't take me long to go over that sweet edge and I bucked my hips and cried out as the orgasm rolled over me.

Clark and I have a standard play date now once a week on Friday mornings whenever he is in town. Sometimes we go to his office, sometimes we go to mine. I don't know how long this friends with benefits situation is going to continue but I am enjoying our naughty illicit affair for as long as it does. So far neither of our spouses suspect a thing and that's just the way we intend to keep it of course.

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